03-29-02 dean: live from SF
I actually just had to look up the date--that is how unemployed I am. You gotta love that.
It's true. I'm in SF, taking a break from ny and writing my grants and baking spinach-brusselsprout pies and hanging out with a lot of people who really know how to dress themselves. Last night I heard a rumor about an upcoming anti-capitalist fashion show that I'll be sure to report about in full detail to you. For now, read this to get totally freaked out about the sci-fi lockdown dissent-free nightmare we're facing/living (I can't believe I'm supposed to carry medical documentation about my transness in order to get through the airport?!?), and read this to recover from it all.
I'm hungover and bored, as usual, at my shitty day job where I've been misclassified as a temp and get no paid time off. Kinda funny, considering the supposed line of work they're in, though not surprising in the world of corporate non-profits. I suppose if I felt more with it I could say something sharp about the replication of racist/classist capitalist models of competition and "professionalism" in the paid-to-be-a-liberal marketplace of Social Justice Inc., but instead I'll just say I daydream of disappearing from this dump and finding better ways to waste my time.
I've been hungover quite a bit lately: the tired, achey days a reasonable price to pay for the blurry, dulled, easy nights. Too much is going on now, everyone I know has something to say about feeling too busy and overextended; and I repeat the same weak line, that for a bunch of so-called anti-capitalist slackers, we've got quite the overdeveloped work ethic. Can you live a slower life and get shit done?
Thinking about responses to posts over the past several months, and thinking about live encounters with folks who know me first through this website, I'm wondering about the efficacy and uses of theoretical-biographical fiction. Editing and re-writing these dispatches, I struggle with an interest in writing out of (my) situated experiences without falling back on a too simple reference to "the personal is political." Other people tracing lines of flight through cyberspace have written of similar struggles: the "I" projected on this screen is never complete, never real, but also never only lies. I'm necessarily and intimately bound up in the production of subjectivity writing entails.
What's the point? I'm not sure. I don't have much of a point these days, I'm kinda rubbed down to smooth, tired edges. I'm just thinking about responsible ways of living, and I don't mean cleaning house and paying bills on time (accomplishments which will always elude me, I fear.) How is my time best used? And better yet, how can I think of time outside its commodification, such that the formation of it in terms of utility breaks down? Am I hiding too much behind elliptical phrases and the kind of rhetorical questions a professor of mine always said were cheap ways out? Dunno....
After Maria said good-bye at Penn Station yesterday, on her way back to Copenhagen after a delightful but short week, I rode alone in a corner seat, crying to myself. Missing her in anticipation, and sad that days of heady conversation always must give way to days and days of living life.
You probably haven't heard much about Matthew Limon because, as LGNY points out, he has been abandoned by the mainstream national gay rights groups. 18 years old, Limon has been sentenced to 17 years in prison for having consensual oral sex with a 14 year old boy. Though a new law in Limon's homestate of Kansas limits sentences for illegal but consensual sex between teenagers, the law specifically prohibits "homosexuals" from its protection. If Limon had oral sex with a girl, he would have gotten a maximum of 15 months. Legistlators point to Kansas's anti-sodomy laws as justification for the disparate treatment.
I can't help but connect this to Bush's specious wartalk that promises to "free" Afghanis from the apparently backwards, sexually-repressive laws of the Taliban. Not to posit a progressive view of history, but what the fuck century are we living in?
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Unrelated things I can't stop thinking about: A tape of Usher performing at some recent awards hoopla, where he dances alone and tears his t-shirt to shreds. He is so the new M.J. Also, the Amazing Wau Wau Sister who dazzled us Monday night with their homemade matchy outfits, hilarious songs and incredible trapeze artistry. No kidding.
On Saturday Colby, Blake and I went over to some of the JATO conference about organizing against the occupation of Palestine. I learned about some interesting events and groups that you should know about too. First, Women in Black protests every Thursday at Broadway and 14th street (NYC) from 5:30-6:30pm. This week, on Wednesday 3/6, join people protesting a meeting between Ehud Olmert, "mayor" of Jerusalem and Rudolf Giuliani, Craig's boyfriend (long-term, committed, but still sexy). We also learned about the International Solidarity Movement, which brings people from around the world to occupied areas to do direct action work with Palestinians. Other resources to check out: SUSTAIN (Stop US Tax Aid to Israel Now!), Colorado Campaign for Middle East Peace, Adalah (the Legal Center for Arab Minority Rights in Israel), Azmi Bishara (International Committee for the Defense of Azmi Bishara and Palestinian Minority Rights in Israel), International Campaign for Justice for the Victims of Sabra and Shatila. Dig in!
Also, in case you didn't know, we're going to criminal court for our arrests tomorow morning, 3/6, 930 am at 100 Centre Street. Come by if you're in the area and you want to show your disgust at the NYPD's harassment of trans people.
Grainne sent the following email alert around: