Category Archives: Gay and Lesbian stuff
We’re excited, at long last, to feature Christopher Zeischegg at A Rrose in a Prose tomorrow!
Christopher Zeischegg spent eight years working in the adult film industry as performer Danny Wylde. He’s been a contributor to The Feminist Porn Book, Best Sex Writing of the Year, Coming Out Like a Porn Star, and a variety of online publications such as Somesuch and Nerve. He recently published his second novel, The Wolves that Live in Skin and Space, through Rare Bird Books.
Come see Christopher read, along with a slew of other authors, poets, and performers such as Rick Lupert, lucifer sam, Jason Lynn, Carolina Hoyos, Sean Carnage, and Nikol Hasler!
And bring your leftovers (whatever that might mean to you), because we’ll be eating them at our potluck… followed by a pun contest, judged by celebs such as Anna Ureña (DRYLAND) and Rich Yap (PLANET QUEER).
As always, the cats will be herded, and hosted, by D. M. Collins. Things start at 2 p.m. at Stories Books (in the back).
Are you still in a food coma? Or maybe you’re sick of your extended family’s disapproval, mild racism, and vicious heartburn? Come join OUR literary family, and bring (and/or enjoy) some delicious eats!
This Sunday’s A Rrose in a Prose is going to be a real “meat and greet,” a a chance to take “stock” of things, and no “bones” about it–a chance to really “buckle” down with our “mash” up of poets, writers, performers, and musicians! We’ll be having a potluck of leftovers, and yes, there will be a pun contest that YOU can compete in! So show up on time and sign up (or get ahead of the game and email us now at email@example.com that you want to compete!)
Compared to the food and the puns, the rest is “gravy!” But we think you’ll really “relish” a chance to hear works new and old by our amazing lineup of talents:
Carolina Hoyos (The Mayflower Welcoming Committee)
Rick Lupert (Poetry Super Highway)
Nikol Hasler (Sex: An Uncensored Introduction)
lucifer sam (Dee-Are Records)
Jason Lynn (Act of Love, with Hans-Joachim Roedelius)
Christopher Zeischegg (The Wolves That Live in Skin and Space)
Sean Carnage (Whaaaat? Who doesn’t know about Sean Carnage?!?)
And there will be even more surprises we haven’t even told you about, because we’re secretive and tricky and evil and stuff. Just like the Puritans.
As always, the event is hosted by D. M. Collins.
See you there.
We are so excited to bring a brand new face to today’s A Rrose in a Prose (among many new faces): Corey Saucier!
Corey Saucier is a Lyrical Philosopher and a Black Queer Christian Poet, Author, and Playwright. He is a Los Angeles Native and was a Lambda Literary Emerging LGBT Voices Fellow in Non-Fiction (2011) and Fiction Genre (2014); and was awarded the UCLA’s Writers Program Scholarship in 2012-2013.
In addition to being an active member of the performing arts community, he is currently a featured columnist in A&U Magazine. Corey is penning his first novel tentatively titled:“Clover” – A dark speculative fiction piece about Fairies, Homosexuals, and God…
He also has a Tumblr (@www.Justwords.tumblr.com), but it’s mostly just filled with naked pictures.
Come see Corey, and all the below stars, at 2 p.m. SHARP at Stories Books and Cafe in Echo Park!
… plus surprise guests that will AMAZE and TERRIFY you!
We meet in the back, and you can enjoy delicious syrupy POPSICCKLLLES absolutely free, as well as all the Halloween candy that you’re not already sick of! It’s gonna be a humdinger of epic proportions, and to miss it is akin to missing your own mother’s birth! (See? Already we’re throwing out mind-bending metaphor and stick-it-in-your-eye analogies! Come see more!)
JEKYLL AND HYDE: A RROSE IN A PROSE LITERARY SALON
OCT. 18, 2 P.M.
HOSTED BY ART CURRIM AND D. M. COLLINS
@ STORIES BOOKS
1716 W Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles, California 90026
Hi Guys/Gals/Groovy Ghouls,
It’s funny how you can care so much about the world yet not even know what’s up with your own soul.
It wasn’t that long ago at all that I confessed my unease with being considered “queer.” That wasn’t because I would be ashamed of being part of the LGBT world, but because I didn’t think my behavior and emotions, which run juuuust straight-of-center on the Kinsey Scale, qualified me to put myself in the same grouping as gay, lesbian, and trans people. Historically they have been marginalized in ways far harsher than anything I would ever experience, and I knew I could always “hide out” in heterodom if the Nazis or Christian Fundamentalists ever retake power.
I also knew that, while I loved to perform sexual acts with people of more than one gender (and yes, I’m good enough to use the word “performance”), I didn’t want to be defined primarily by that part of me. And I hated the binarism of “bisexual,” and the muddiness of “pansexual” or “polysexual,” and didn’t feel like certain behaviors or inclinations meant I had a right to join a movement.
You know those guys who say they can wear Native American headbands because they are 3% Cherokee? I didn’t want to be them. I felt alone and bereft in many ways, but I didn’t want to steal an identity that wasn’t mine.
I’m glad I started that conversation, though, because it led me to finally meeting others who have similar backgrounds and inclinations. And that led to my learning a lot about myself. I found, first of all, that I do belong to an identity, and I’m not the only one. I am part of a group that, perhaps more than other groups, has such a wide variety of feelings and emotions incorporated within it.
Perhaps that’s why so few bi people are out? We don’t feel a kinship with each other, much less with gays and lesbians or straights. And so there’s no sense of unity to help us feel strong, or brave? Compared to gays and lesbians in “America,” we’re the only group that still has its majority in the closet. And the schism is vast:
I’ve heard gay guys talk about coming out as “coming home,” but my experience felt like the opposite, like going out onto an empty stage. Even when you do come out as bi, recognizing that about yourself can feel a bit lonely compared to what, from the outside, it looks like to be fully straight, gay, or lesbian. “Bi” contain such a spectrum of people, e.g. men who mostly like other men and pass for gay but also like some vagina now and then, e.g. women who love other women but whose “straight” look traps them in a straight world most of the time, e.g. men like me, who like to feel androgynous and find receiving vigorous, tooth-rattling anal sex from other men is somehow much easier than forming relationships with them like the kinds we form with women.
And it is gendered. Aside from trans people, who face a prejudice still sharper than almost anything out there, bisexual men tend to have it the worst:
There are so many distinct ways to be bi that really, by comparison, “gay” looks like a large nation state, and “straight” looks like a whole continent, but “bi” is sort of like a sexual Micronesia.
And yes, I do now identify as bisexual because I want this to end! I want us to be seen as real, and I want not to tiptoe around my relationships and loves. And the only way to do that is through showing off our numbers.
With that in mind, I now see “bi” as a blanket term that includes the more specific terms and inclinations, basically anyone who does not fit info the gay or straight slots (in fact, Vee Ritchie has a great video explaining why “bisexual” actually means both “same” and “not the same” which actually does NOT imply a binary of merely two genders, and even though that may sound like loophole logic, it helped me feel at ease with the term a great deal).
At first even saying “I’m a bisexual activist” felt so antiquated, like saying the phrase “American Indian Movement,” or “United Negro College Fund.” But like those organizations’ names, the phrase “bisexual” contains all the history of the “B” in LGBT, our forefathers and foremothers, people such as Brenda Howard who was not only a pioneer in 20th Century bisexual awareness, but was at Stonewall and was a radical activist for queer folk in general. And who cares if the straight world thinks “bisexual” means we have to love women the exact same as we love men, or if they just think it means we’re gay. They were never going to understand anyway … but then again, if they want to understand, I want to make sure we’re represented, that we’re seen as real, that our true numbers are reflected–far from being rare, by some measures our numbers rival or exceed those of gays and lesbians:
So yes, I’m bisexual, and if you feel you are not a 1 or a 0 in the digital game of gay/straight, you could be, too!
I want to talk about this more, but I have to get in the bimobile and go do some bi things tonight… I feel like I’m rambling, so maybe re-watch this video I did for #StillBisexual a few months ago, open up your hearts and minds, and … I dunno, call me for a hot threesome.
-D. M. Collins
P.S. Did I say threesome? I meant “orgy.”
If you don’t enjoy seeing giant cocks explain to you why the Screamers and Buzzcocks are in the same sticky stream of history as Ma Rainey and Lesley Gore and Schubert and Little Richard and ancient cross-dressing shamanic rituals of our pagan past, then you are not fucking punk rock. And you probably deserve to be smothered to death by Donald Trump’s wig.
And so you better stay far fucking away from Spirit Studio tomorrow night, Saturday August 29th, at 8:30 p.m.
Wait, actually you should come. COME!
Ian MacKinnon is a theatrical genius who can play Jobriath songs on piano as good as the original (practically in the middle of a costume change), and he performs an incredible, video-heavy multi-media one man play that I co-wrote TOMORROW night (Saturday, August 29).
Unless you are doing something CRUCIAL, like playing your own show or experimenting with knives, I better see you there, you fucking cads! Or else I will evoke the disco spirit of Sylvester and have him pump jism into your prudish, homophobic hearts.
You don’t own me.
-D. M. Collins
P.S. Here are the details, darlings:
The Gay Music Revolution is back for one night only!
August 29th, 2015
$20 / $15 students & seniors
3711 Evans Street
Los Angeles, California 90027
P.P.S. Full disclosure: I co-wrote the script. I realized my friend’s play had a small but prominent hole in the backstory, and I stuffed a meaty chunk of the Germs and Buzzcocks and Screamers into it.
P.P.P.S. I have sex with men.
I made a video for the #StillBisexual Twitter-y YouTube video campaign thingie. The music is by the delightful Kyle Souza.
Mom, please don’t watch. There’s sex stuff mentioned.
If you don’t love at least a little bit of Erasure, you deserve to be dragged into the street and chopped into tiny pieces by mannequin babies that have been wished into life by satanists and now wield dull hatchet blades…
P.S. This was the first version of “Take a Chance on Me” I ever heard!
P.P.S. This was the first version of “S.O.S.” I ever heard:
Okay, so let’s talk about the term “queer.” How do you feel about its use as a self-identifier, as the “Q” in LGBTQ?
I’ve noticed that it’s gendered: many of my female friends identify as queer, whether or not they seem to date other women. Yet guys like myself who are generally straight but occasionally date (read: sleep with, make out with) other men don’t use that term to define it. Or maybe some guys do?
I actually don’t know very many guys like me. We don’t really have a community. Despite the last 20-40 years of broadening acceptance of homosexuality, passing between sexual gender preferences still seems far less acceptable for guys. We’re supposed to be straight, or openly gay, or secretly gay (“come on, just admit you’re gay/straight!”), but not bisexual. Actually, I like the term “bisexual” even less. It sounds too polarizing and falsely egalitarian at the same time. Who really is evenly ambidextrous with their preferences?
But I feel almost as uneasy identifying as “queer,” and not because I’m ashamed of people putting their gay-ass prejudice on me. It feels kind of false to claim such solidarity with my gay friends just because I occasionally have sex with them. I do not truly suffer from the same oppression. When push comes to shove, if the fundamentalists take over and anti-gay bigotry returns, I could always bunker down in a nice safe relationship with someone of the opposite sex, and my gay friends can’t. Calling myself “queer” feels a bit like the awkwardness of the MC5 in the 60s trying to appropriate the righteousness of black nationalism with their sympathetic “White Panther Party.”
That sounds harsh, and I don’t mean to be offensive to anyone regardless of how they identify. But I think we need another word. Hell, maybe we should navigate without a need for taxonomy, for specific words identifying people by the ratio of penises versus vaginas in their lives.
What’s your opinion? If you’re 110% gay, how do you feel about people who identify as “queer” but date primarily from the opposite sex? If you identify as “queer” but aren’t a full time, card-carrying homosexual, what about the term do you find useful or empowering? And does anyone feel comfortable identifying as “bisexual?”
POST SXSW: DAN KROHA, GAY BI GAY GAY, KING TUFF, DEAD SHIPS, CRACK PIPES, UGLY BEATS, FOREVER CHANGES
My long-overdue chronicle of the day after SXSW, including Gay Bi Gay Gay, Dan Kroha, King Tuff, and seeing John Cameron Mitchell, is up on L.A. RECORD.
Vermont legalized gay marriage today! And they were the first state to do it in the legislature. They even garnered enough votes to override any potential veto by their Rethuglican governor:
The House recorded a dramatic 100-49 vote, the minimum needed, to override Gov. Jim Douglas’ veto. Its vote followed a much easier override vote in the Senate, which rebuffed the Republican governor with a vote of 23-5.
On the one hand, this makes me mad at Californians, who went to the polls in droves to vote for Obama, yet turned to the next page in the election booklet and punched a hole for hate. But on the other hand… I’m even MORE mad that California received the brunt of the anti-gay agenda’s money! I’m no research journalist, but I imagine that the funds from such organizations as Focus on the Family were so drained by our losing battle in California, that they had no more funds to spend limiting gay rights in the heartland. And the anti-gay marriage crowd seems to back that up:
Craig Bensen, a gay marriage opponent who had lobbied unsuccessfully for a nonbinding referendum on the question, said he was disappointed but believed gay marriage opponents were outspent by supporters by a 20-1 margin.
“The other side had a highly funded, extremely well-oiled machine with all the political leadership except the governor pushing to make this happen,” he said.
Just days ago, Iowa legalized gay marriage, and now Vermont’s historic win proves that gay marriage is growing in popularity as Gen X and Gen Y rise up in the spirit of “eh, why not?” We love our gay friends and don’t see what the big fuss from the religious right is all about. Actually we DO see it, and we’re beginning to call it out for the stupidity it is.