October 31, 20022

Halloween costume idea for open-carry states: strap on an AR-15 between your legs and go as white male grievance.

 

 

 

 

 

[Source: https://www.reddit.com/r/CursedGuns/comments/pqmpow/ar_15_with_penis/]

October 23, 2022

I spent the past couple of days on the road driving up to Maine, where I'll be helping my mom out with house-related stuff for the next couple of weeks. Age c/w the lingering effects of the pandemic have made me more aware of the risks of long trips, so they feel less like adventures than they used to. Both days featured postcard-worthy fall weather, though, and knowing the sum of our time together is dwindling, I was thankful for them.

 

(1) Somewhere on I-80, PA, Friday

(2) Near my mom's place, late yesterday afternoon

 

 

 

 

October 17, 2022

This showed up in my FB feed this morning: one of the grifting hatemongers spreading utter BS about us ("mutilating children," &c &c &c). I have no fucking idea what the flame thrower is for, or why he needed to be flanked by an ersatz Nazi dominatrix to light shit on fire. QAnon style fever dreams for the blow-up-stuff-you-hate crowd.

 

October 15, 2022

Sounding off on Twitter again.

Background: a completely made-up story about gender nonconforming youth -- schools providing litter boxes for students who identify as cats -- has turned into a popular far-right attack line.  (Click on image to go to Collins' story.)

 

October 10, 2022

Sounding off on Twitter (to little fanfare):

 

 

 

 

 

Background: Jon Stewart recently did a program on The War Over Gender, which includes an interview with the current Arkansas AG that is, to put it charitably, jaw dropping.

October 3, 2022

When I went in this morning for my annual boob squish (which should be the medical term, though "mammogram" is still favored by the medical establishment for some reason), I not only endured some numbing muzak in the waiting room, but was also subjected to some proselytizing. This annoyed me, but I didn't think it was worth speaking to someone about it (I suspect another patient left this pamphlet there). Instead, I tucked the pamphlet in that black plastic thing on the left, in the tray facing the wall. And turned it so the cover was facing in. So there.

 

On a separate note, I'll express how thankful I am to live in a place where I don't feel I have to lie to the provider when asked when my last period was to increase my chances of being treated with dignity.

 

 

October 1, 2022

 

My writing projects have their source in strong emotions, which typically take one of the following two forms.  Shorter pieces (mainly poems) start with a feeling attached to an experience or memory or image or even phrase, that is, they're "lyrical" in the traditional sense of that word, though they not infrequently have a sociopolitical focus.  Longer pieces (mainly essays) tend to begin with a hunch that something I'm drawn to is worth exploring.  Why do I collect vinyl records?  Why does Greek mythology resonate so strongly for me?  Why was I so drawn for so long to Conrad's Heart of Darkness?  What might I discover about myself in those boxes of memorabilia from my 20s?

 

A new hunch-based project has been constellating in my mind for a while now based on Pierrot Lunaire.  At first, I was drawn to Schönberg's famous suite for vocalist and small ensemble, ironically called a "melodrama" -- its emotional timbre is detached and mocking, anything but melodramatic.  I recently purchased a vinyl copy of an older recording conducted by Pierre Boulez, and learned from the liner notes on the back cover that the Commedia dell'Arte figure of Pierrot became a sort of analogue for the artist in the 19th century, the period that was the focus of my doctoral work.  And just like that, my emotional response to Schönberg's piece acquired a subject that was near and dear to me, and the possibility of updating and queering the artist's plight was birthed.  And then I learned of the piece's source, an 1884 collection of 50 poems (fewer than half of which Schönberg set to music) by the Belgian poet Albert Giraud.  Amazon search: an affordable bilingual edition was available (I read French, sort of).  Et voilà!  Surely reading Giraud would give me some ideas for a queered response, which could be in dialogue with it as well as Schönberg.  I just started reading Giraud's collection today.  Beyond a few vague ideas, I'm not sure where this project will go, or even if it will take off.  But I feel certain that at the very least it will be an interesting journey.