Monday, May 25, 2009


I worked all day yesterday.
After work, and a lovely scoot home I was abducted by friends with a car. I was taken to the strange nether-region of "Shadyside." If you're unfamiliar, this is yup yup wear your money on your country club approved outfit sleeve central. It is also therefor brings into the mix the usual (rather unusual) crowd particular to Pittsburgh that is what we might call an aspiring "Yupzer." I'm pretty pleased that I've finally come to a word for this. Basically the Yupzer is a Yinzer who aspires to a level of upper middle class consumer. A banana republic by work week, a gap on the casual weekend. No, I've never played golf, but I'm sure I'd love it. These are your typical over spending, American dream chasing young professionals. The difference between this group here in Pittsburgh and anywhere else though, is that these people are yinzers. They wouldn't know what a cocktail party was if it shit on their chest. But they've still got the air of self importance, sophistication, and arrogance all about them, if you can smell it beyond their cheap perfumes and cologne.

After spending some time in one bar, with famously boozy Greyhounds (though I think our loving bartenders at our local watering hole pour them stronger and for $3.50 cheaper, you've gotta shell out the money to prove you have it I guess) it was decided the only way to recover the night from it's dullness was to go venture to *gasp* a gay bar. We packed our bags, and made the quick little journey to one of
the gay bars to go to in the area. Upon first arrival and after a rude doorman the joint looked empty. After closer inspection it appeared that the party was really in the back. On the giant outdoor patio. "There are so many terrible faggots here.." I remarked. "No," Five chimes in, weak "Sangria" in hand, "There are also so many terrible fag-hags!"

It turned out to be an alright evening. I listened to Five and our friend Alex discuss idiosyncricities of radical queer movements or their lack of actual "movement." The challenges given to homos such as Five or myself, in carving out our own place within radical queer idea's or politics given the fact that "Gay Men" have already, within a grouping and "type"ing, been assimilated into a generally accepting culture. It would seem from the discussion, that it is easy to see and understand how transgendered peoples and lesbians still can be easier and seemingly more obvious areas of radical movement and organizing because they have not been assimilated to a similar (commercially viable) extent. However, this whole notion/idea/truth completely leaves out the possibility of me. Of Five. Of Eric. Of a whole slew or men I know who, even if they aren't looking to voice or act on or even entertain radical political ideas or radical sexual/ity ideas (which really? It's not that radical, it's called living), do not belong to the assimilated black and white, top or bottom, American Eagle or Abercrombie, Martini or Cosmo, flip-flops or flip-flops, red plaid button up or pink plaid button up cultural environs that are so comfortable, privledged, and blind. And therein lies the problem, our complaints, our obstacle. An unaccepted minority within it's own (american, city, etc) societally accepted minority. It is hard to get people to listen to the "But this is why it's hard for me!" when they are cutting you off with a "No, this is why it is easy for you, so shut up and listen to why it's actually way more hard for me, you self loathing needy gay man."

Now, who has a thirty foot or so long gallery space for the mural print/install I am going to make about this? I guess 15 would be do-able.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Time Past

I scanned this line of Negs in late Dec.
I shot them possibly in the spring of that year, 2008, though I can't be sure. These seem to be a result of the Mapplethorpe class and a moment of temporary insanity. It's nice to know that when the logical portions of my brain aren't working, that the mechanical and photographic portion goes into overdrive. These are straight from the scanner, unedited in any way. The prints I've made of them look just as incredible to me. Sometimes I surprise myself.