Art practice, Catastrophe, Sex

Anal Sex, Nukes, and Montreal Pick up lines

I had a weird night last night where I couldn’t really sleep, one of those thinking too much nights. Then I had some fuckin’ WEIRD dreams!

First I dreamt I was hanging out with some gay men and suddenly I was having anal sex and I was all “Holy shit! I’m having anal for the first time!” And then I was “Holy shit, this is amazing!” And then it was all “Oh fuck, is he wearing a condom? He had better be wearing a condom. I don’t think he is. Woah that was nice. Oh shit, what do I do? Should I risk it this one time? He hasn’t come yet, if he pulls out will it be okay? I don’t want this to stop, oh what a quandry!” I’m hazy as to the particulars of my gender in my dream. I think I was a boy, but I don’t know if I was a bio boy or a trans boy.

Then I was in Montreal and I was a visiting artist, and all these beautiful femme women kept doing these sly pick up lines with me. But I swear to fucking god, it was the exact same line all the time, and they were saying them in front of each other, it was like they were all scheduling in a sex session with me before I left town. I think I even ordered a drink with some francophone name that was especially for slutty visiting anglos.

A side note, how come Montreal is the epicentre of beautiful femmes? Paris is the same. And it’s not that all the femmes are Montreal natives, it’s like there’s some femme magnet pulling them there. Kind of like Vancouver is the butch epicentre of Canada. I heard it had something to do with French feminism, but I don’t really believe Luce Irigaray is what convinced gorgeous women to converge on Montreal and Paris.

And then suddenly I was in snowy mountains all dressed in guard gear with some other guy and we saw a plane go over head and started talking about the goddamn Americans and what they were doing to the world when I glanced up and saw a mushroom cloud. I sat up and yelled “They’re bombing us!” and my friend said “What the hell are you doing, get down!” and he jumped on top of me and held me to the ground while nuke charges started heading down the hill towards us. Boom boom boom boom and just when I was wondering how much it would hurt I felt this intense heat and then the sensation of being dematerialized. It felt so real that I woke up right away and tried to figure out if I was dead.

The anal sex part felt real too but I didn’t wake up to see if there was really a dick up my butt.

Art practice, Censorship, Criminal System, Politics, Queer, Sexuality

Child Sexuality (or: Thirza’s Vagina Shot)

This is something I’ve thought about for a long time, especially when I was making teenage lesbian videos and the fucking Alberta government outed me in high school because I was supposedly making a child porn recruiting video. Whatever. Then I was still thinking about it when I was nineteen only with the additional issue of chasing older lesbians who were running away for fear of the pedophile label attaching itself to them. But mostly I wanted to talk about teenagers wanting to fuck and why the hell is that wrong? Thus came “Untouchable.”

So I went as far as I could for someone with no sexual partner at the time and flashed my pierced vulva for the camera in what has become the one defining image people remember when they think of my work.

Why? It’s just a vag. Honestly, I think compositionally I’ve come up with more lush lyrical imagery. It’s practically at the point where it’s Thirza’s Vagina Shot, like you could write a queer videos of the 90’s essay on it. In fact someone did.

Then I tried to stick the final nail in the “queer youth” coffin with “Helpless Maiden Makes An ‘I’ Statement” where I juxtaposed a break up monologue with Disney Witch footage. On one angle it was a commentary on BDSM relationships, on another it was about sexualized images in children’s entertainment.

I got into shit for my early work, mostly because I was young and talking about the homosex. I was considered an anomaly in the queer community for coming out at fourteen. Shit, now we have queers coming out when they’re nine. The queer community has to do outreach to these folks, even at risk of being called pedophiles. I don’t mean slippery dick outreach, I mean having safehouses for youth who are running away from homophobic homes, and alternative schools for queers (there are some but not enough).

But child sexuality of all types is criminalized in our society, ironically under the guise of protecting children. I will get to why I think that is a fallacy in a moment.

Currently an issue of Blackflash is coming out where yours truly did a small artwork for (it’s a postcard, send it to your friends!) and it was the Sex/Love issue. One of the articles was about Child Sexuality and featured artwork from luminary folks such as Robert Mapplethorpe. Work which could be found in various galleries around the world. I was going to post a link to it here but probably because of child porn laws on the internet no one can publish it online anymore. It was of a little girl where you could see up her skirt. Nothing ultra provocative, nothing more scandalous than any pics most people have of themselves as children (yes, remember all your bathtub pictures you hide from your friends!). In fact, Diva magazine caught up with the little girl now all grown up (and a lesbian btw) who says it’s her favorite photo of herself as a child.

ANYWAY, Blackflash was set to publish when all the publishers got snippy and refused to reprint the images. Everyone was upset, including myself when I heard. I have in fact had the vice squad run off with my videos to inspect them for child porn (yes, police have seen the vag shot image which has defined my career). There was some rabble rousing, but I think in the end everyone felt pretty powerless to put up a fight. I mean, how long did the Eli Langer case drag on?

Child Porn laws always sound like a good idea on paper, but when new parents are being dragged away from the local one hour photo store for taking pictures of the twins having a bath, you start to notice how the lines are blurry.

I knew it was going to happen, but it didn’t make me less sad. A thirteen year old girl had sex with a twelve year old boy, and currently they are trying to decide how to try her since by law she is both a perpetrator and a victim. Her boyfriend is also considered guilty of being a sex crime perpetrator. People would say “Dear lord, she was thirteen! That’s too young these kids nowadays blah blah blah.” Actually, if you get people drunk/stoned and ask them when they lost their virginity, you’d be surprised how many will say a number between seven and thirteen. And not just people in my age group either, I know people much older than me who lost it at a really young age.

I’m not going to debate when the “proper” age to lose one’s virginity is, truth be told I felt a bit long in the tooth when I lost mine. But the fact is kids are doing sexual things and then turning pink and saying “nothing” when you ask them what they’re doing. I mean, under the law this girl’s being prosecuted, a kid can be charged for MASTURBATING! I’m serious. That means I was a criminal for 11 years of my life!!!

“Protecting” children, doesn’t. It criminalizes natural child behaviour. It criminalizes art work. It criminalizes child sexuality at a time when children are just naturally going about their sexual development. It keeps kids from being able to learn about safe and healthy sexuality, or even engaging with communities they belong to, namely the Queer community. Sexual predators hunting children still get around it. They don’t have to go ogle the local exhibition of Mapplethorpe or Langer, they can just hop on Myspace and write up a bogus profile. They can just wander back and forth along a playground. They can just offer to babysit to help out a frazzled single mother.

People always support laws “protecting” children, until they get caught in a loophole.

Now I really must go and have a shower and wash this famous vulva of mine.


(This is me at nineteen in Untouchable, my vulva is lower down, as is the fashion.)

Humour, Linkage

I am 20 Year old Megan!!

If you hadn’t noticed, I filled the sidebar up with links of sites I like. One is my friend Megan Morman’s site LadyLady Helping. She and her lady Cindy Baker come over on Thursdays to watch Survivor and sit in the hot tub. Sometimes two arguments go on at once, it’s always exciting. Anyway, I hope you like the links, it should be good for at least a day of surfing if you really really really need to procrastinate.

A comic from the excellent site marriedtothesea.com.

Married To The Sea
marriedtothesea.com

BDSM, Ex Girlfriends, Filmmaking, Popular Culture, Queer, Transphobia

That’s not love! That’s Stockholm Syndrome!

I wanted a really cool blog to go along with this title, but then I started writing a tired ex girlfriend tirade again and felt dumb so I laid it to rest. But I still like the title. It can stand really well on it’s own. And I think everyone can understand the experience of confusing the Stockholm Syndrome with love.

I felt like a dork today. I’ve been searching for a song from the Shortbus soundtrack for the last two days on Gnutella only to find out I’ve had the damn song this whole time. It’s not like I have THAT many songs, only 1455. And I used to have 80 cds but I have no idea what happened to them.

A deadline I missed in October is coming up again already this January, so I’m hoping to have my shit together. At least the screenplay looks sort of normal now. It has more of a flow and dramatic tension and character development. Actually that’s not true, one character is still pathetically 2 dimensional. He’s practically a prop. I’m considering killing him off. I don’t know what to do with him. I think I fucked myself over by trying to put an ensemble of queer identities all together in an intimate drama. And then I further fucked myself over by pressuring myself to do something stupid like present only “positive representations.”

Positive representations. It’s what organizations like GLAAD are all about. It’s some LA femme getting snarky and bashing bulldaggers as negative stereotypes. It’s what gave us a medley of L Word characters who look the same. It’s what makes queers whisper to each other “Actually I really liked Cruising.”

Pacino and Poppers – Good Times Combination

It’s what leads to obnoxious lesbians in Michigan chasing away girls in leather and transgendered women. Fuck positive representation. I know we have a miniscule number of queer characters/movies and out actors, but god, sometimes you just need a queer villain. I’m not talking Put the Lotion in the Fucking Basket villain, but someone nasty and yet complex. That being said, I really love Silence of the Lambs.

Do you still hear the lambs screaming Clarice?

Some queer filmmakers are breathing a sigh of relief already though because we’re not tied to the positive representations shit anymore. God, isn’t Oprah enough of a positive representation for us all to get by on? Now the rest of us can be dramatic fuck ups while she and Ellen improve the daytime living of bored housewives everywhere.

Queer, Saskatoon

Convoluted Connections

Saskatoon is a weird fuckin’ city to be queer in. I have always thought so. Even weirder is the fact that anytime a queer issue, excuse me, “gay and lesbian” issue is brought up in the newspaper, there is always the stock quote from Gens Helquist.

He’s been providing the stock quotes for years and leading this backwater community towards really weird decisions. Back when a friend of mine tried to organize the first Pride parade, Gens said we couldn’t do that because it would be rude. Back when the same friend held Saskatoon’s first (and only) gay and lesbian film festival, Gens and his cronies advised most of the queer community to avoid it.

If Gens was at Stonewall he would be telling everyone “Now now, let’s not be hasty, these nice policemen are just doing their job.”

Another teenage friend of mine got a long lecture from Gens about being a pedophile because my teenage friend *gasp* liked other teenage boys. The end result being my friend got so convinced by this pedo label that he did go on to be a pedophile.

Anyway, enough about that, I just don’t see why he always gets to speak for Saskatoon’s “gay and lesbian” community.

I also don’t like when people say “gay and lesbian” as a community, because it cuts out at least three other identities that form our community. Namely bisexuals, transgendered folks, and intersexed people. I don’t like the idea that gays and lesbians will get rights and then tell other people in our community they can fuck off. And there are some monosexual queers who will tell trans/bi/intersex people to fuck off. Besides that, if I remember my queer history correctly it was a bunch of trannies who threw the bricks at stonewall.

God, this morning in my sleepy state I was convinced Ellen Degeneres wrote Stone Butch Blues, and I was trying to figure out how someone with such a sad story went on to be a comedian with a talk show. Oh my god, what would life be like if Leslie Feinberg went on to be a comedian?? I love hir, no disrespect, but imagine it. Wow.

My copy of Stone Butch Blues got water damage, I think because my shower wasn’t constrained by the curtain and spewed onto a pile of books. It also soaked my only copy of an ex lover’s porn spread in On Our Backs. Ironically that is the same spread which has my other ex lover’s ex lover in it. Yes, it is just, a teeny community, even for big city queers.

Here’s another weird story about how small this community is. My friend Robin met my first ex girlfriend through her friend in Toronto. I met Robin’s first ex girlfriend at a film festival in San Francisco. Robin and I met in Montreal when we were working in the same weird call centre. I think Vancouver was mixed in there somehow too. Oh yeah, and I was in a porno where Robin’s ex was the camera person. It’s a weird weird weird community.

God, I could think of other convoluted connections, but now I’m tired of that game. It’s only mildly interesting as an L Word narrative device.

Okay, one more. My best friend/neighbor from down the hall used to bake bread for the L Word.

It’s weird but true.

News

The Dinner

I have to tell this story because it is a classic bad date story. I had been seeing a certain someone when I got a rather large artist fee. Officially we were NOT girlfriends, something she always got tetchy about if I suggested we were, even though she called me to talk every night.

One day I asked her if she wanted to go for dinner. I would treat (since as I already mentioned I had an artist fee in my pocket). I was envisioning something akin to a moderately upscale diner like Hamburger Mary’s, or even Havana. You know, nice food but casual. A basic date. Well she suggests a particular restaurant she likes that she never gets to go to, and I had never been there so I thought oh sure, whatever. We get there and I open the menu only to find entrees start at $50. I nearly fell out of my chair but being the suave butch dyke I am I supressed all shock and tried to carry this expenditure off with aplomb. So we ate and drank and chatted and she was being cute and then the bill came and I watched a goodly chunk of my artist fee vanish. Goodbye money!!! I will miss the groceries I could have bought.

Then we necked at a bus stop, but she started acting weird and then after all of that wouldn’t go home with me. Maybe it is sleazy to expect some romping because of an expensive dinner, but maybe it is also sleazy to take your lover for a dinner she’s paying for to a restaurant that is ridiculously pricey without giving a heads up. I wasn’t terribly put out yet because I did like her a lot.

The story doesn’t end there though. Not long after we had our break up squabble. I don’t know how you can break up with someone who’s not your girlfriend, but whatever. It was a break up. Several mean things were said, but the most shocking was when she announced “It all started with that dinner. I should have known, Ooooh, it’s the dinner where things get serious” and then went off about how I was trying to weasle her into a serious relationship by buying her an expensive dinner. I was so shocked now that I couldn’t say anything. I took her to dinner just because I thought it would be fun to eat hamburgers together. Suddenly I was the evil sugar mama trying to buy her ass with a $150 dinner. And I’m not even a sugar mama, she was the considerably older one!!! And she was the one who picked the goddamn expensive restaurant.

She’d never bought me dinner or lunch or breakfast. I think once she gave me some sweet blob of red beans from China town.

Luckily my next girlfriend took me to dinner and lunch a lot. And it was often casual dining in chinese restaurants with cheap burgers. She even made me gnocci one day.

But I had never known that buying a lover a lovely dinner was so offensive. Luckily since then I’ve had sweeties who are much more appreciative of nice things I do and don’t throw it back in my face.

She was so not a sugar mama. A moochie mama, maybe.

News

Katamari Damacy

I bought a video game for a console I don’t even own yet. I’m buying the console next paycheque. The game I bought is actually the sequel to the game I wanted, this one titled We Love Katamari. The original, Katamari Damacy, is one of those weird cult hits arising from Japan. I might have to order Damacy in.

The story is that the King of The Cosmos went on a bender and accidentally destroyed all of the celestial bodies. He sends the Prince to go roll a Katamari around and collect as many objects as possible to make each star. A katamari as near as I can tell is a small sticky ball which continues to be sticky even with every additional layer of objects.

The intro alone shows the true mad genius of Katamari Damacy:

It’s addictive, to be sure. People have been known to play it for hours and hours. In fact I’m sure when I get the console my mom is going to be parked in front of the tv happily rolling up polygonal japanese people and drinking a beer.

Once I was chatting with a guy who had a Katamari fetish, literally playing the game turned him on.

Not as bad as the guy I read of who can only get an erection when he sees a safety pin.

(Living in sin with a safety pin.)

Katamari has spawned a consumer frenzy of related memorablia and wares. Including t-shirts, katamari shaped knitted touques, and a large green tubular hat simulating the Prince’s head.

News

Industrial

Today I got my industrial. I’ve been babbling about it on here for a while so I thought I’d let you know how it went.

I totally have to do a plug for Schmatta, of all the piercing shops I’ve been to I’ve liked their style the best. Somehow it’s not as ridiculously painful. They have pretty sure hands.

And they don’t mince around with Ylang Ylang and three deep breaths. I guess for me that involves too much anticipation and it makes me have a harder time with pain.

So I was freaked out about the pain, especially after hearing that the industrial is one of the most painful piercings. It was painful, I won’t lie, but it wasn’t ungodly awful. It was a slow sharp pinchy pain. The most painful body mod I did was getting the inside of my upper arm tattooed, which felt like getting slowly skinned alive.

And now I have a pretty, spikey bar going through my upper ear.

The downside to this piercing is that I’ve been told sometimes they can take up to eight months to heal. Oy!

It probably bled a lot too but I didn’t see that. I did drink a lot last night, so my blood is probably still pretty thin. And lucky for me I was the second Industrial of the day, which made me feel a bit better that he knew what he was doing.

I hope I can get a few of my tattoos done soon too. I also have another piercing I want, but most people won’t get to see it anyway.

News

I’m a Piggy Big and Chubby

If you’re allergic to cuteness (and some people are) then don’t click on this link for the Guinea Pig Way. I’ve been trying to learn Flash for a while but I keep getting distracted or lose the manual and tutorials. I understand the theory behind it, in theory it’s pretty simple. I know I would secretly be the source of ridicuously adorable nonsensical animations. When I was in beginner’s animation at Emily Carr I made a funny animation about suicide. I guess you had to understand me at the time.

No way could I make anything touching the black comedy of Salad Fingers though. He creeps some people out. I like him in a twisted way.

I have a favorite video game called Katamari Damacy. The plot is that you are a small green man with a tubular head rolling a ball to which things stick and you need to get enough objects on your ball to create a celestial object. Here’s a claymation Katamari.

You take the good you take the bad you take them both and there you have . . . Tootie’s bong?

Have a good friday night bitches.

News

Same Sex Marriage

The only thing I hate about Same Sex Marriage is the term. It sounds suspiciously akin to Lesbian Bed Death (ugh). I imagine it referring to a union where both partners got tired of sexually experimenting and have now fallen into the rut of Same Sex. Not no sex, just tirelessly, relentlessly, unceasingly boring routine sex.

Blerg, that would suck ass. Thank god there are Pro Dom/mes in the world.

On a side note, you would be surprised how many female sex workers will take on female clients.

Back to Same Sex Marriage. I used to not care, seriously, I was all who the fuck cares if I can get married, but probably a lot of that was due to some cynicism about romance and the fact that there are nuns more sexually active than me. Anyway, then I started thinking about it. I have always had kind of a soft spot for marriage. I know some people really hate the idea of marriage because “it’s all about ownership!”

I know. *smile* Why do you think I get off on it?

I’m not much for the idea of standing in front of a bunch of people who are just waiting for the free sandwiches and necking with a girl in front of my mum and grandma. Mostly I hate the idea because I have terrible stage fright and I’m scared I’ll embarrass myself by fainting, farting, having a seizure, peeing my pants, getting tremors, bleh bleh bleh. Also I don’t like the idea of spending so much money on one day.

I have a better idea for my wedding. I want to get married at a courthouse, have diamond rings, and then go to Paris for two weeks. I mean, my god, I feel embarrassed even having to go on stage to accept an award. Or being paranoid there will be hecklers.

I’ve been keen on the diamond ring idea for a while though. I’m even considering buying myself a diamond ring just because. I also want a cashmere sweater. I’m one of those people with pricey desires, and at this point in life no one can make me feel guilty about it anymore. I’ve even developed a fetish for femmes in full length fur coats.

My mom doesn’t understand this desire for diamonds. My friend Naufus also wants cashmere and diamonds, we think it’s something about being Emily Carr alumni.

I had a dream I was getting married and when they asked if anyone had a reason I shouldn’t get married my mum yelled out “She’s only doing it for the ring!”

The real reason I’m into Queer marriage though is that it affords our relationships legal rights which straight people (even in common law marriages) take for granted. It means my partner would have a legally recognized position in my life. For example, if I was in a hospital again and unable to give consent to a procedure, my partner could decide, like if someone needed to pull the plug but my mom insisted they keep my mushy liquidy brain alive, then I would have someone to bat for me. Or if I was in the psych ward and they wanted to do ECT just because they got tired of trying out pharms, then I’d have someone who would say fuck off with your electricity, I’m the only one she lets electrocute her.