Tuesday, October 31, 2006

This is sorta what it looked like

This "Plasma Mothership" is somewhat similar to what we saw, only it wasn't a defined shape and there were two circling eachother.

Also it changed colour somewhat similar to what this one is doing.

We're going out tonight, my friend's really tired so I hope she perks up by the time we go out. I also have to do some scripty things before this deadline coming up.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Still jumpy as all hell

If Laurel hadn't been with me I would have seriously thought I was going crazy. And I still think about it and it totally fuckin' boggles me. Eee, I'm getting shivers! Sometimes I still can't even believe I saw what I saw. I'm just like, nah, never happened, that could never happen!! But it did.

And then I found out someone else in my family saw the same thing over 8th street. What the hell is going on in Saskatoon?

It's so weird, the most supernatural things happen in Saskatchewan, more than any other place I've lived.

The weird part is, I wish I'd watched it for longer.

My friend and I are driving out there again on Halloween night after 9 to see if it shows up. Or if it left any visitors behind. Eeeeek! God, it still scares the bejeezus out of me. I don't know how the hell I'm going to survive our deeply troubled and unprofessional UFO hunt.

I just read the greatest description of these, which so far sounds like the most rational label. "Electrical Plasma Lifeforms." I have a hard time believing it was a rock solid spaceship, just because of the bizarre way it manifested and then transformed over hours. Anyway, I'm HOPING to buy a camera tomorrow and go out and shoot whatever may happen. I found the cutest little digital camera that will probably work, and takes video too, so hmm. We'll see. It's about time I got a freakin' digital camera anyway, since I am reduced to the photobooth in malls for self portraits. So sad, to have all your pictures be from a photobooth.

Aside from that DRAMA, I just got the graphic novel of V for Vendetta. I wonder if it will make me reminisce life with Maggie Thatcher and Ronald Regan. Oh the times we had, the hilarity. Seriously dudes, whenever anyone waxes nostalgic about the eighties and new wave and big hair, I'm like fuck, did you miss the eighties? It was all cold war and state oppression. Even Canada sucked, and that's saying something. What I find interesting is that a decade later this story is still a completely relevant allegory.

Wud else? I'm going to quit smoking. I chain smoked during the Sighting and it fucked my throat up. Plus I have a persistent cough.

I am getting my teeth cleaned on Thursday.

Okay, I've failed you all! I was going to post a continuous source of fear and supernatural mayham until I got wrapped up in Republicans and Electrical Plasma Lifeforms. Well, when we go out UFO hunting tomorrow I will be armed with a camera. And if I get pictures, they will be posted on November 1. Other than that, we're also going out on the long weekend looking, so we'll see if something turns up. God, my hands are fucking sweating just thinking about going out TWO MORE TIMES!!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

"What the fuck is that?!" UFO Sighting Oct 28 -10pm -1am

Laurel and I didn't have a Halloween party to go to last night, so we decided to drive out to Cranberry Flats to sit in the parking lot and tell ghost stories. We turned south towards the flats when I saw two very dark objects speed over us. I ignored them, thought they were birds (maybe they were). Then I started noticing streams of light going over the road, at first they looked like falling stars and kept going from left to right. Then they starting sort of going back and forth, like two of them swirling, but I rationalized it as the reflection of our headlights against power lines. They also kept changing colour, the ones we noticed were purple, green, orange, blue, yellow, and white. I should also say they started out very thin, and slowly swelled up into the size of ovals. The further we got to Cranberry Flats, the brighter they got, two white ovals slowly circling each other. At this point I was trying to rationalize it as spotlights. Neither Laurel or I were saying anything to each other, I didn't want to say something in case I was totally hallucinating, and I didn't mind it if I was hallucinating. Anyway, the further out of town we get the brighter it is. Total silence, we miss the turn off to Cranberry Flats and she pulls into a side road to turn around to go back to the Flats. At this point I notice that the lights hovering and swirling in the sky are staying in one place. I think at this point I said to Laurel "What are those?"

"You noticed them too."

We FREAK! We're fifteen minutes outside of town with thingies in the sky and we have NO friggin idea what they are except UFO's. And I immediately start worrying about being abducted, and I think so does she because we keep checking the time. We turn around and start driving back into town, neither of us wants to look back. This time back into town I realize: There are no power lines going across the road. They are all along the side of the road. We're starting to compare notes and realizing we've seen exactly the same thing. Both of us are terrified. Then Laurel stops along the roadside to get out and see if they're still there, and they are, so she freaks out and jumps into the car. We keep driving until the turn off going east, and we look back and they are still there, still glowing white ovals.

We're finally in town, I'm still freaked out, and we go to Diefenbaker to see if we can see them from there. Sure enough, there's those two swirling lights.

She drives me home and then after much debate convinces me to go out there with her again. And so I do, but I was terrified and tried to put on a diaper in case I shit myself.

I shit you not.

Anyway, we get back to Diefenbaker and they've changed. They're still swirling, but this time they're green and acting somewhat like northern lights, just the way you see energy ripple off them. Some other people in the park seemed to be seeing them too.

We drive to a couple other places in the city to see if we can see them from there, nada.

Then we get some binoculars and go back out to look at them. This is about three hours after they first appeared, about 1 in the morning. This time, they're more like green ovally lights, but they're moving COMPLETELY differently. Sometimes they swirl, sometimes they flash on and off. Sometimes they just speed past each other. Sometimes they change direction, sometimes they drive bomb, and just as we were driving away I also noticed them leap frogging and chasing each other.

Also twice during our sightings they went from just a glow to a solid light. I should mention it was cloudy so they might have been in the clouds.

So what was it? UFO? Spirits? Some other phenomenon? I'll be checking to see if anyone else saw them. There was a guy who was flashing his high beams on and off at us on our way out to Cranberry Flats.

Has anyone out there seen or heard about a UFO sighting like this? I really want to know.

And I'm glad I had someone else who saw it with me, because y'all would be calling me a big crazy liar otherwise.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Video Artists! Activists! Anyone with a video camera in America!

My earlier post mentioned the problems with voting in America. Right now an organization is calling for anyone with a video camera to Video The Vote. Get footage of voters being turned away, polls opening late, long line ups, intimidation, and machine breakdowns. Check it out.

Connecting the dots

Currently major television stations are refusing to run this ad for
the target=new>Dixie Chicks documentary Shut up and Sing. There think
it's wrong to disparage a president.

Also absent from television is the ad for the fictional documentary
Death of a President which won the International Critics award in
Toronto and is opening in the theatres here this weekend. href="http://www.deathofapresident.com/" target=new>See the preview
here. People are pissed severe about this film and think it's
unethical to depict a fictional assasination of a sitting president.

After installing a dictatorship in Nazi German, Goebbels took control
over newspapers, magazines, books, public meetings, and rallies, art,
music, movies, and radio. Any critisms of the government were

Habeas Corpus, the right of an individual to a trial, legal
representation, and a court process determining the legality of
imprisonment, has currently been revoked in the US in regards to
"Enemy Combatants." The last time Habeas Corpus was revoked was
during the Civil War. "On 29 September 2006, the U.S. House and
Senate approved the Military Commissions Act of 2006, a bill which
would suspend habeas corpus for any alien (noncitizen) determined to
be an "unlawful enemy combatant engaged in hostilities or having
supported hostilities against the United States"" Yep, that
terminology is pretty vague. For instance, I hope the citizens of the
US overthrow their government and try them for war crimes. HOWEVER,
now that I have just written that on my blog, I could fall into this
category and get thrown into a contemporary American gulag.

Not only that, but unless you've been living under a rock you're
probably aware that the US has rewritten their laws on torture,
completely overturning the Geneva Conventions which were written in a
direct response to Nazi atrocities. Besides giving the US power to
seriously injure and harm their detainees without being subject to
criminal charges, this completely opens up the other nations to
interpret, twist, or ignore the Geneva conventions. I'm not going to
say that governments have obediently followed the laws of the Geneva
Conventions (because a lot haven't, including pre-911 America), but at
least there was more of a solid foundation for trying war criminals.
In December of 2001, the US also changed a law so that in the event
the Hague tried a US soldier with war crimes, they would use force to
"rescue" them.

The current war in Iraq, which lost all it's appeal to the American
populace after no WMD's were found, is now being supported by Saddam's
genocide of 400 000 people. The current deaths of Iraqi civilians
during the US war is about 650 000. More US troops have now died than
the total of people who died on Sept 11.

Technically the US is still operating as a democratic nation, but
underhanded tricks by the Republican party and constant reports of the
unreliability of electronic voting machines make it obvious that with
enough power an election can go anyway the government desires. It's
genius really, let the America people continue to think they have a
voice while basically tossing away democratic voting practices.

Recently my cousin told me that US helicopters are patrolling the
borders along Manitoba and Saskatchewan. The deportation of Marc
Emery also indicates that Canadian citizens are now falling under the
jurisdiction of America. Workers for CSIS are complaining that
American government agencies like the CIA and FBI are routinely coming
into Canada to investigate our citizens. And there's also a rumour
that in the event a missile from the Middle East (or elsewhere) is
heading towards the US over Canada, it will be deflected and impact in
Canada, most likely Saskatchewan or Manitoba.

I remember a lot of us started talking about the Reichstag fire just
after September 11. If you haven't read about this, go look it up.
Nazi's used it to win unquestioning support for the events which
transpired involving the war and the holocaust. It was a planned
terrorist attack used to justify the invasion of Poland. I don't know
that Sept 11 was planned by the government (I wouldn't be surprised),
but when it happened a lot of people could see that it would be used
against people both around the world and in the States.

They're always joking about invading Canada, but I'm starting to
wonder if they will. We have gay marriage and socialized medicine,
which is evil to America, and a puny army. We also have a shit load
of resources, including water, power, and uranium.

Some people wonder why I care so much. I guess, at this juncture in
history we can't afford to be complacent. Just consider the vast
changes which have happened in the last five years. I also have a
personal connection to Nazism, and while it might sound "flaky" or
"crazy", I'm pretty sure I was killed during the Third Reich. I can't
say I was killed in a concentration camp. I have a lot of memories,
dreams, fears about that time, but none of them have involved actually
being inside a camp. I'm not totally sure who I was, I once thought I
might have been Jewish, but recently I had a dream I was Arayan but
persecuted for some other reason. And while people get pissed off, I
do see a lot of parallels. My memories are more emotional, but
because of them I've spent about twenty years researching everything
about Nazism that I could get my hands on, so I'm not just making a
judgement call.

If none of that scares you, consider this. After the Nazi's were
defeated, the US actively recruited Nazi scientists, doctors,
engineers and the like for their own government in an initiative
called Project Paperclip (again, google it if you want to know more).
In fact, NASA owes a lot to Nazi scientists like Werner Von Braun.

So if that don't scare you dudes for Halloween, I don't know what will!

My cuz sent me this great video of George Bush singing Sunday Bloody
Sunday. I hope it cheers ya'll up after reading that depressing

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Thursday, October 26, 2006

Temporal Lobe Epilepsy and Me

It's been nearly four years since my bipolar diagnosis, when a wee little issue has cropped up. Mainly, that I have been having seizures ever since I was seven, and that I wasn't screened for epilepsy when I was hospitalized, and that in fact Temporal Lobe Epilepsy is often misdiagnosed as a psychiatric disorder because among a whole host of symptoms it affects mood, emotions, behaviour, etc etc. The more I read about it, the more sense it makes. I'm called bipolar because I have a specific set of symptoms, but when taken into context of my entire body, the seizures, and other cognitive and physical effects, it's becoming clear that I was most likely completely misdiagnosed. I know what you're going to say "But you had manic psychosis, that's not epilepsy." Oh contraire! The fact was I was taking a high dose of antidepressants, which lower a person's seizure threshold and I most likely had a cluster of seizures which kicked of several weeks of mania. Yep, epileptics can go into long stretches of mania. And between seizures, we can have intense depressions with suicidal features.

The weird symptoms I have which are particular to temporal lobe epilepsy (TLE) includes incontinence, tingling in my hands, uncontrollable jerking of muscles, butterflies in my stomach, gastrointestinal problems, sudden (how did they say it), basically I suddenly have to shit immediately without warning of more than thirty seconds. I often have a runny nose (and this makes sense because I have between ten to twenty seizures a day) which is indicative of temporal lobe epilepsy and what happens after a seizure. I've had a runny nose for years and years and years, and I wipe it with my right hand which points to the possiblity that it's my right temporal lobe with the issues. At this point in my life it's progressed to the point that I have difficulties remembering instructions (which lost me a job). Hallucinations, delusions, anxiety, racing thoughts, intrusive thoughts, waves of fear, are all symptoms of temporal lobe epilepsy. People with TLE also report religious transcendance.

Considering my seizures and my occasional grand mal, I'm pretty sure it's epilepsy. However I also think that bipolar disorder itself is a form of non-convulsive epilepsy, and some research is pointing that way. It's pretty suspicious that some of the best drugs out there for BD are anticonvulsants originally designed for epilepsy. I've been reading all kinds of crap on the internet, epileptics have a high chance of getting psychiatric disorders, psychiatric patients have a high chance of getting epilepsy. What if the vast majority of mental illnesses are in fact forms of epilepsy? After all, epilepsy does have some tests which can be done to diagnose it, although they might prove inconclusive, while mental illnesses have NO clear test or diagnostic technique beyond someone's opinion who isn't well educated on other medical illnesses which could cause psychiatric symptoms.

Some people even say that the DSM IV needs to be completely overhauled so that each illness is preceeded by a list of treatable medical conditions which may mimic these disorders. I've been reading about misdiagnosis and you would not believe how many people with brain tumors are just put on psych drugs and ignored until their tumors literally begin to deform their skull after years.

I was never referred to a neurologist. I was never given a CAT scan, EEG, or MRI. I wasn't even asked if I had a history of seizures. The only thing they wanted from me in the hospital was to change my behaviour so that it wouldn't bother or annoy anyone anymore. Essentially I was having a psychic equivalent to weeks of an unceasing grand mal seizure without appropriate care. Some of the meds I was on and continued to be on until recently lowered my seizure threshold, making me worse than before.

Before I ever started taking psychiatric medicine, I had issues, I won't deny it. But the worst ones, hallucinations, delusions, psychosis, confusion, memory impairment, those began after I started with medication.

Currently the two medications I'm on now which are working really well for me are Epival and Lamictal, which were originally designed and are still used for epilepsy. There are also a few other medications I could take which might allieviate most of my symptoms. If medication doesn't work I could get a Vagus Nerve Stimulator implanted, and if that doesn't work I could have surgery on my temporal lobe which would cut either a small portion out or part of my brain the size of a fist.

Sooo, it's a lot to figure out all at once. I'm getting a referral to a neurologist and I hope to see him at the end of November or early December. Also epilepsy qualifies me to apply for medical marijuana exemption under category 2, which is definitely cool!

It's kinda sad, when I contested my diagnosis EVERYBODY got so fucking pissed off at me and told me I had to blindly accept it because I was crazy while they were sane. They didn't know anything about me except a mere fraction of what I was experiencing and have experienced. And I think of how many people out there are diagnosed with mental illnesses when really we should be getting a much higher quality of care and actually examined for other possible causes.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

You won't believe me anyway

I have always had a keen interest in the paranormal. Cryptozoology, UFO's, inter dimensional beings, demonology, possessions, ghosts from residual hauntings to lost souls to poltergeists, life after death, basically if there is something unexplainable I'll be into it. I spent years whiling away my insomnia listening to Coast to Coast AM and freaking the fuck out of myself. Highlights would include The Sounds of Hell, Bigfoot screams, and the sounds of an exorcism being performed.

I've also had some encounters with the paranormal, pretty much all ghosts. Some orb action, some poltergeists, and for some reason ghosts often knock for me to let them in. Freaks the fuck out of me. Although being manic depressive, I know most people discount things I experience. Fuck em. I'll tell you anyway.

The most recent one was a few weeks ago. I was sitting at the computer at about 11:30 at night when I could hear something start knock on the window. I instantly got chills down my back and decided to ignore it. It kept knocking. I did not want to look at it, and the dog wasn't around for me to do my check in re:hallucination. Knock again, and I glanced over my shoulder. I saw it for an instant and looked away because I did not want to know what it looked like. I'd been trying to rationalize it as a bird. It was big, about the size of a human head, and it was white. The sound wasn't like knuckles knocking, more like something slightly harder but the same size as a hand. I told my mom about it the next day after I had run out of the computer room and she tried to say it was a bush. Yeah, a big white bush. We do have bushes around the window, but they are trimmed completely clear of the window and the ones underneath it don't have the reach to hit the window.

So, Halloween is coming up!!! Which means my focus for you readers for the lead up will be trying to scare the bloody beejezus out of you. This will be my first halloween away from Vancouver for some time. I'm going to miss Vancouver halloweens. They set off firecrackers all night, and fireworks (it's kinda freaky to be drunk and dodging roman candles, which they DO aim at people). Last halloween a friend summoned the dark lord with the skull of a POW, the Dark Lord just said "Hey, what are you guys doing!?"

And yes, there was the halloween I took shrooms and ended up in emergency.

So, I will now show you one of the most FREAKY ghost videos I have seen on Youtube. Some soldiers doing patrol work are goofing off when a shrieking woman scares the hell out of them. Watch closely because in the second screaming part you can actually see a white figure.

This is one of my all time favorite Bigfoot films. I first saw it on the Coast to Coast website. The story behind it is some film students were shooting on Prince Edward Island when this creature comes running out of the bush and goes behind them. The original video I saw showed it more clearly, you can see it running out on four legs and then STANDING UP and running the rest of the way.

Another favorite ghost video: This was surveillance footage of a parking garage. Watch the wall behind the black car between the two pillars.

I've never seen this UFO footage before, but if it's a fake it's pretty good!

And my fav UFO video, a UFO crashing in the desert. I have no idea what happened to the wreckage. I think the most interesting part is that when it crashes it bursts into individual bursts of light.

I also once heard a great audio file from a police scanner of some cops watching a UFO. I shall continue this theme in the next post.

Oooh oooh oooh!!! Any readers who want to tell a story of their own supernatural/paranormal experiences, please post!!! I will try to change my posting options so you don't need a blogger account.

Discerning Hallucinations

My little dog Mister is not a fully licensed service dog, but he is quite adept at doing some of the things I needed in a psychiatric service dog. The most basic would be calming me down. If I get freaked out I can hug him and pet him and he calms me down. He saved me from a near suicide attempt by constantly licking my face one night until I calmed down enough to go to sleep. And he helps me discern hallucinations.

This might seem strange. How can a dog tell you if you are hallucinating or not? It's really simple, if I hear something I can see if Mister hears it too, either by him looking around, cocking his head, or barking. I hadn't had a chance to test it out until last night.

I was hearing people run around yelling outside. I wasn't sure if it was real or not so I was watching Mister, who was definitely hearing them. Sometimes I have to ignore things to appear sane (I often hear people call my name who aren't there) and it can cause me to be oblivious to things which might be dangerous. Luckily they really were just running around yelling and then went away.

About a half hour later I was trying to go to sleep and I was thinking of a question (which I have now forgotten because I was too startled to remember) when a womans voice whispered No. In one ear, my right ear. Mister didn't hear it. Definitely a hallucination. I was relieved, and because I knew it was just a voice I didn't have to worry.

Something I read today which was interesting is that scientists have discovered during auditory hallucinations there is increased blood flow in the thalamus and not the neocortex itself. This means auditory hallucinations are peripheral impuses funneled up through the thalamus.

I'd really like to know more about tactile hallucinations, something I have experienced once during my psychosis. It's barely ever talked about, but it's there.

Having hallucinations doesn't necessarily mean you have to believe them or your life will be affected by them, especially if you have a good dog and enough skepticism to tell a voice to fuck off.

Monday, October 16, 2006

From Cello to Kazoo

I was chatting to my friend Robin yesterday from my kleenex strewn bed hacking and coughing. "Your voice!" she said "You used to be a cello and now you're a kazoo!" It's true. I still sound shitty and horrid and awful, but at least I have a sense of humour about it.

I now have a subscription to Coast To Coast am, and am waiting for my iPod to return so I can load it up and listen to freaked out shit when I'm going to bed.

It snowed here. People are driving ridiculously. The streets were covered in a sheet of ice and people kept sliding backwards on hills. I hate walking on ice, teeny steps, wriggly moves to correct balance. Ugh. But I actually quite like snow, I think it's sort of romantic in a way. Some of my most beautiful moments have involved gorgeous women and snow.

I've been considering this Celebrities Come Out campaign I want to start. Outing is tempting, I must agree, but unless you have photographic proof of a guy with a cock in his mouth or leading lady with a fist up her cunt, there's really no one who will believe you. Even if you had your tongue in Marcia Cross's mouth in a lezzie bar people will tell you you're making it up. Trust me, as someone who has an occasionally interesting life, people tend to be disbelieving about a lot of things. My god, in high school a flaming queen told me no way was Ellen Degeneres a lesbian. ( think I fucked her last name but I'm too lazy to care today.)

So I am rethinking this whole thing. Celebrities do drop hairpins to the gay community (ie, stars who appear at GLAAD awards and neck with same sex people, folks who go to events like Outfest, people who only have mega onscreen chemistry with other men/women, mentioning well known gay bars in conversations, saying "I'm happy" when asked if they are gay.) ANYWAY, I think in order to completely upset the applecart of Hollywood, ALL QUEERS must come out ALL AT ONCE. Imagine the glory of watching the Oscars and suddenly every homo/bi/trans folk stands up in solidarity. That would be like, half of Hollywood.

Okay, maybe the awards ceremony folks would freak, the orchestra would play, and the cameras would pan to Billy Crystal with a terrified look on his face. Hmm, something else.

A union? The LGBT Screen Guild? Something that ensures equal rights for queer performers so that they don't lose jobs? Affirmative action in casting so that a specific number of out queers can perform in both queer and non-queer roles?

No, it has to be something GLAMOUROUS. OMG, a major talk show or investigative journalist could host a three hour bonanza of queer actors and actresses all coming out, and then at the very end the talk show host in question could come out!

Oooh, how about a glittery awards show filled with celebrity queers that gives out various awards for "Most believable hetero" or "Best cover up PR" or "Most blatantly homo yet unsuspected by hetero public!" And even "Longest and most well hidden relationship." Maybe they would be more appreciative of it if it was celebrating them for their ability to stay in the deep dark of the closet.

I know it would turn into a spat though. For one thing, if they tried to all stand up at once, there would be much screaming and shouting across the floor. "Goddammit John, I've had group sex with you and those porn stars, get that loose asshole of yours off your seat!" And "Nicole, if you don't stand up I am NEVER giving you head again!"

Okay, so maybe they still don't want heteros to know that they're queer, but could they at least let us know? Like say some secret sign or a strange word. I mean, I guess they do have a few code words, like "longtime friend." I have no longtime friends, I have best friends. But maybe that's because I'm cantankerous and my personality bucks off best friends (except for the brave).

Well, I'm sleepy so that's all, and now I'm listening to stories of reincarnation. I hope celebrity queers reincarnate with some backbone.

Sunday, October 15, 2006


I got paid on Friday so I enjoyed a bout of shopping, which actually wasn't as far out as one would imagine. I got Absinth, Thomas Waugh's new book The Romance of Transgression in Canada, and a ticket to see Scott Thompson perform last night.

Scott's best lines of the night:
"Blood on my face is death, semen on my face is love, and life. And when a man puts his semen in another man's rectum, it makes a baby."
On going to ground zero days after the attacks:
"It smelled like barbecue, with the barbecue cooked. And since then I've never eaten human flesh. Not even a scab."
He also informed us that he had a menage a trois with a woman and a man in Edmonton. "Every 25 years I have sex with a woman."

Anyway, now I am ONLINE SHOPPING!!!

Oh wait, before that I wanted to update you on my cold. I have now made my mother and grandmother sick, and countless others are falling sick around me. Nearly everyone I know here is sick. But not to worry, we haven't had blood pouring out of orifices or anything really scary, except for when I puked a cup of plegm. Yeah, that was a bit of a Linda Blair moment. But I have progessed to a stuffed up nose, and it was so congested yesterday that everytime I blew it AIR CAME OUT OF MY EYES!!!! MY EYES!!! I knew a girl who could blow bubbles out of her eyeballs, but I had never experienced it myself. It dried my eyes out. Luckily there's a Visine for that.

Okay, back to online shopping.

The main reason is that I no longer live in a big city where I could traverse around the downtown core hitting every shop for alternative/queer/esoteric items. But there is no Virgin Megastore in Saskatoon, or Little Sisters, or even Urban Empire for small wind up sushi's. And the malls are full of unrepentant heterosexual teenagers lured by Bootlegger, Claires, and Roots stores. Le sigh. So I am forced to make do with things on the internet.

The first two things I intend to purchase are Hk 119's self titled album and the DVD for Metrosexuality, a hilarious queer brit mini series. Other things on my list include a subscription to Coast to Coast AM (since I can only get limited reception from a station in Omaha and then only if there's an expanse of snow between here and Omaha) and the Trannyfags video by Morty Diamond. I would also like to become a primetime member of Datalounge, because everytime I go there I can't get onto the forum since they have to cut down on visitors to keep their server from crashing. OH yah, and I intend to get a dildo with VixSkin from Vixen creations, but I haven't figured out which one. There's one with balls I'm kind of curious about, but I worry my harness would hide them anyway and then what's the point of having balls? Mostly I'm curious about this new silicone they are using that feels like skin. But the only colours they come in are "Cream soda" and "Root Beer." I'm having some anxiety about choosing a color. Obviously I am a cream soda, but I feel brown inside. So should I go with Root Beer? "If I can't be brown, I'm going to at least have a brown penis!" I dunno. It's a quandary to be sure.

And I am finally getting the battery on my iPod replaced. 65 bucks, but it is so worth it, oh little iPod, you mean the world to me!!! I love you, never leave me again. Plus I'll be able to listen to Coast to Coast on it while I'm toodling around.

The sad thing is that Metrosexuality and Hk 119 are to be found no where in Canada. Which means they go through customs. Which means I pay 15 bucks more. Which means I'll be paying the same people who rifle through my mail from queer fests and deny me high quality hardcore lesbian porn. It's most unfair.

I was also going to get my Industrial done, but I'm sick and bleh, so I think I'll wait until my next paycheque.

I think I might get Coast to Coast actually, first, because I can listen to it right away, and because every halloween they do Ghost To Ghost, my favorite annual episode because they have open lines all night and listeners call in with their real life ghost stories. And you know I love ghost stories.

I think I like online shopping so much because I have to get my mom to agree to let me use her credit card, and I have to really find a place to get something, and so it cuts down on impulse buying. Which for manic depressives is a big thing. I have bought so much CRAP over my life. I nearly bought an 80 dollar sock monkey. Once I bought a techno version of the Singing Nun. I got a lunch kit with monster women on it even though I never used it at all. I've bought dresses that I never wear because I never wear dresses. The only big purchases I've gotten and have been happy about have been leather items costing 200 or more including a flogger and a jacket. I can't imagine what would happen if I was hypomanic, had just recieved a grant, and wandered into Mr S. Holy shit, tons of sm gear and no one to use it on. "Date me! I have a cock shaped gag at home!" Yeh, anyway. So sensible things. I must buy sensible things and be sensible with my money and also be able to afford marijuana. It's all so difficult.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Closeted Celebrity Hilarity

I've been sick and lurking on Datalounge, which is probably the best queer gossip board I've ever read. Sometimes there's insider knowledge of various queer celebs doing very queer things (like an actress declaring "Well, I'm off to eat pussy!" as she left a set). And sometimes you even get closet celebs posting like little meek mice asking the general queer public to do all the coming out because we're better role models. Bizarre. I was queer in high school but I think Scott Thompson being openly gay on Kids In The Hall made more of an impact on teens in my school who tuned in every week. I heard them struggling with their own homophobia and the fact that they were fans of his brilliant comedy. And maybe it made me seem a little more palatable to teen culture in Aden Bowman Collegiate, I don't know, but I did have an easier time of it than some, I'd like to believe Scott had something to do with it.

And sometimes studio execs post saying queer actors would impact box office sales. It's really interesting and appeals to my own gossip mongering personality. And then straight girls come along and get upset and say that their favorite stars are not gay.

Anyway, I found some hilarious stuff on DataLounge. This one's a photoshop, but it's still hilarious.

Rad photoshop skills dude!!

And this link is not photoshopped at all. It's Nicomi! The Nicole Kidman and Naomi Watts relationship as revealed in an EXTREME number of paparazzi photos. I mean, you can not look at these and tell me they are just best friends. I have best friends and I'm not clinging all over them or checking out their boobs or holding their hands all the time (unless I really do want to mack on them). It brings a whole new level of meaning to Naomi Watts in Mullholland Drive. Maybe she was working through some catharsis about the closet during that role.

Oh man, and sometimes you hear from people who work on set or other insiders. So cool. I'm a nerd, a fangirl, and a wannabe star fucker. I admit it. But mostly I just like knowing if someone I watch is in the family, on our team, in the life, and all those other euphemisms.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Paranoia's Origin: The Half Used Pencil

Some people don't know when their paranoia started, it just sneaks up over time. I remember when it first began.

It was grade three. I was one of two Natives in an all white school, and therefore we had no friends. I was sitting in class working on Phonetics (which by the way is a stupid system). I overheard a boy talking to a girl about some girl he didn't like, he just kept listing off all these attributes he despised.

"She only uses her pencils halfway!"

I glanced in my desk at my three discarded pencils. All halfway used. Why would I use them down to the eraser? It cramped my hand. It was uncomfortable and stupid. Besides, while we were working class, pencil's weren't in short supply. Beans and weiners was, and I ate all of those.

"And she never uses her erasers all the way!"

Again, true. Three Pink Pearls, all carefully drawn with pen to look like dogs or kitty cats. I often redrew the markings after a few erasures. And I rotating their usage so that their oblong shape wasn't destroyed beyond the point of anthropomorphism, the only thing getting me through White Power Elementary.

Why was White Boy picking on me? I had done nothing wrong to him besides my improper use of my writing utensils. Perhaps he asertained that I was a useless Indian squandering my stationary which was no doubt paid for by his taxpaying father. (It was paid for by my mother, who incidentally also pays taxes).

Either way, ever since then whispering or talking in another room freaks me the fuck out cause it triggers my paranoia. Being crazy or Indian or Queer or Fat doesn't impede my ability to hear.

However being mostly deaf in one ear does, so when I say "WHAT!?" it's usually because I really can't hear you.

Also having a name like Thirza, it starts off the same as Thursday, an oft used word. Oh the panic that would strike when someone said Thursday. Seriously. Don't fucking start a sentence with Thursday around me.

Those half used pencils came back to haunt me in the psych ward because the only pencils allowed were half sized, like library pencils.

Because you can't shank someone with a half used pencil.

Oh SURE, I could have hidden a half used pencil and asked for another one and gotten the elastic band that the old man was always trying to use as a cockring and then I might have had a serviceable shank. But I didn't want to shank anyone. I just wanted to watch English Television, the impossible dream. One day when I was really upset a nurse said "Okay, we'll put on Air Force One." WTF? I did finally get to watch a made for tv movie about the underground railroad. Nobody watched it with me, they fled to the safe harbour of Radio Canada.

Another funny thing about paranoia, WHITE paranoia, is this. White people have never confronted me the numerous times I've smoked marijuana in semi public, but on NUMEROUS occasions outraged white people have stormed aboriginal ceremonies burning sweetgrass/sage/cedar claiming to have smelled reefer.

Now, do they really think it's pot? Have they never smoked or smelled pot? Or are they just harrassing us because those strange Injun ways are a menace to youth?

Look Out Everyone for Sweetgrass Madness! They speak in languages that should be dead. They use parts of endangered animals! They're BROWN! They're a fire hazard, and they're in your COMMUNITIES!!!

Hi Mum, before you meet my girlfriend could you sign this non-disclosure agreement?

I did a VERY silly thing during this cold. I didn't take my meds for two days. Why? Anna Nicole Smith's dead son. Killed by anti-deps and methadone in a tragic accident. And I thought it would be just my luck to croak. I can see the headline. "Obscure Lesbian Video Artist Killed by Psych Meds and Cough Suppressants." It's even more ignoble than my fear of being run over by the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile.

Yes, now I understand that methadone is very different than a cough suppressant.

So what happened? Well, I woke myself up several times one night by constantly talking in my sleep, but my voice was fucked by plegm so I was talking in mainly vowel sounds that loosely mimicked english speech patterns. The next day I trolled the internet for hours looking for lesbian celebrity gossip (fueled by my need for the perfect coming out blog, and, er, that I haven't had a girlfriend for years). Then last night NO SLEEP!!! These are senseless voyages into the dark world of nothingness and infocommercials. I gave up on the infocommercials ages ago (when you think a spatula thrown into the 19.95 price is a steal, it's time to turn it off). Luckily I had hypomania to keep me company.

I recently read that one out of 24 people has a voice in their head on a regular basis and it improves their lives, they're healthy, normal people. My voices used to be mean, but now they're quite intellectual, philosophical, comical and little cheerleaders. Anyway, they entertained me last night as I mused on the notion of dating a closeted or semi closeted celebrity. What would a non-disclosure agreement entail? And what would my conversations with my friends be like? I'd have to refer to her as Miss X. I don't think a closeted celeb would date me, I have Big Dyke written all over me. Of course, so do some of them. And then my long wintery wasteland of celebacy would make me run around all over going "I have a girlfriend!" and then people would ask me about her and stuff and I wouldn't be able to say her name or anything. "Uh, she's tall, white, has brunette hair, starts giggling when you whip her." She'd become the Snuffalopagos girlfriend that no one would see, except for the sad fact they would see her, all the time, macking on a closeted gay man for the tabloids.

And what about introducing her to your family? Would my mom have to sign a non-disclosure agreement?

But even better, what about the possibilities of being a kept woman to a glamourous forty something sugar momma!? Quiet evenings alone in a penthouse, occasional jaunts to third world countries to go window shopping for babies to adopt. Hearing gossip about other closeted lesbians. Getting rip roaring drunk on her $600 bottle of Cognac and barfing sushi all over her $20 000 carpet. And the hopeful outcome of being passed on to another glamourous closeted forty something celebrity after the romance has faded and her carpet cleaning bill comes in.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Coming Out Day

It's coming out day. I blew my wad describing my teenage coming out experience, so enough about me. And I'm not soliciting other people's coming out stories eiether, because they're only so interesting and then everything sounds the same. There's a formula, ya know. It goes like this:

I always suspected ever since I was __ and got a crush on/really liked _____________.
When I was __ I fell in love with a girl/boy.
I told ________ and they _________
I realized _________ hated queers.
I rented Desert of The Heart/Auntie Mame over and over.
I told my mum and she _________.

Anyway, none of that. I'm falling asleep remembering.

I'd rather this be a visionary type blog about coming out. I want to talk about all the sexy babes I want to come out of the closet, not because I think they'll be good role models for the LGBT community or because they'll improve the lot of the LGBT community. I want them to come out so I can sleep with them. Come on, hot lesbian starfucker sex where you don't have to sign a legal document declaring you will never out them, or being the anonymous gal pal, or sleeping in the same house as the *husband*. That is hot. Relationships and sex without fear and oppression is sexy as hell, especially if you get to escort some hottie down a red carpet, even if your name is misspelled in all the captions (which mine definitely would be). I know some people would say secrecy and mystery is sexy, and in a way it is, but think of the practicalities, it is a pain in the ass.

Okay, so here is who I want to come out already.

#1 Jorja Fox

This image alone should seal the deal. But an even funnier quote from a message board says it all:
"Fox's cunt-lapping proclivities has been on this forum many times. She plays in an all-lesbian band, her best friends are all lesbians, and she has never denied being a lesbian, and has appeared in various gay and lesbian magazines. "
I also read that she and her long time girlfriend broke up. ooh la la.

#2 Marcia Cross

Okay, so consider this. In real life she meets a guy and in six months they're engaged, soon after they're married, and now she's pregnant. In the show she meets a guy, six months later they are engaged, and soon after they are married. That's kind of bizarre. And it was such a coverup type marriage. I mean, I could go find a scared little gay boy to marry from a Craigslist posting. Whatev. Anyway, everyone heard about all the coming out frou fra, it's kind of old news now. She allegedly has a girlfriend (do you think I could break them up?). Some anonymous folks in the life have mentioned seeing her at LA Dyke Bars (why have I never been to these bars? :( ), and she kissed Felicity Huffman and pinched Eva Longoria's butt during the infamous Vanity Fair Shoot. Which brings me to # 3, who rumour has it is also a regular at LA Dyke Bars.

#3 Nicole Kidman

God, OBVIOUSLY I need to get a Canada Council grant to research the celebrity demographics of LA dyke bars, with lots of field research and hands on experimentation. I forget my good gossip on her, except that she seemed awfully snuggly with Naomi Watts and went to stay with her after the Cruise breakup (which was supposedly orchestrated in their prenumptials to take place after a certain period of time. OMG, but listen to this: "Jane Campion came to my school and wanted to cast me in her student film, but she wanted me to wear a shower cap on my head and kiss another girl" I don't find shower caps sexy either.

#4 Jodie Foster

Like the famous Leonard Cohen song, Everybody Knows. I mean, COME ON! Why can she not come out? Why won't she? It's not like people would be surprised.

Okay, so to end this Coming Out Day blog, here is a classic scene from Ellen's coming out episode. Take CAREFUL note of the celebrity cameo in here.


So now North Korea is itching for war. Crumbs. I don't know what to say about all of this, except that it reminds me of a sad conversation I've been having with various people I know. This summer a friend told me she thought the Americans would get nuked. I'm not sure, I've just been thinking something really bad will happen down there to a lot of Americans who don't believe in their government either. So strange, what a strange world. And if they do nuke the US, I wonder if Vancouver will get hit. Or any other countries.

Oh, and a tiny plane flew into a building in New York.

News is weird.

The Doomsday Clock is still at 7 minutes to midnight.

Okay this is funny. The following is a direct paragraph from Wikipedia. Bear in mind that people can edit at any time.


Acute bronchitis usually lasts approximately 10 or 11 days. It may accompany or closely follow a cold or the flu, or it may arrive unaccompanied by any other condition. It is contagious, and it starts out with a dry cough, frequently waking the sufferer up at night. After a few days, it progresses to a wetter, productive cough, which may be accompanied by a low grade fever, fatigue, and headache. The fever, fatigue, and malaise may last only a few days, but the wet cough may last up to several weeks. For some people, the cough may last as long as a few months as the bronchial tubes heal slowly.
Should the cough last longer than a month, some doctors may issue a referral to an ENT Doctor to see if a cause other than bronchitis is causing the irritation. It is possible that having irritated bronchial tubes for as long as a few months may inspire asthmatic conditions in some patients.
In addition, if one starts coughing up mucus tinged with blood, one should see a doctor. In rare cases, doctors may conduct tests to see if the cause is a serious condition such as tuberculosis or lung cancer.
The prognosis for patients with severe chronic bronchitis varies, but recovery is harder for those patients with additional severe illnesses (lung diseases or heart conditions). Pulmonary hypertension, cor pulmonale, and chronic respiratory failure are possible complications from chronic bronchitis.
oh my god!"

The irony is after I read all this I too thought Oh my god because it sounds suspiciously like what I have.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


Someone rang the doorbell so I went to go look. The big dog was in the backyard, and I couldn't see who this guy was. Then I went and let in my mom's rather ferocious sounding huge ass dog, opened the door, and some skeezy looking guy walked away as the dog barked his huge bark. Ewwww. Creepy!! WTF?

Cough Cough Blorgg!

I'm REALLY REALLY sick right now, I think I have to see the doctor actually. I'd had this low frade cough for over two weeks and then last night after Thanksgiving dinner I was smoking with two cousins when I started coughing so hard I BARFED out a huge glob of plegm. And I mean HUGE! I did that a few more times that evening before going to bed, where I have stayed until half an hour ago.

Sooo, yeah, had to call in sick to work. Had some REALLY weird dreams. My little dog kept coming around to see what was wrong with me.

Anyway, I wanted to write a more uplifting goofy post. I also found it it is Aboriginal Women's History Month and since Halloween is ALSO coming up, I have to start on my scary posts. And I have ten days to get an application in. Eeee! Deadlines are scary enough in and of themselves.

So since I'm sick I can't post much funny stuff. We looked at possessions on Sunday to freak us out, but this was the best one (btw it's quite short).

It's Tickle Me Elmo with audio from the Exorcism of Emily Rose over top.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

The Myth of Violence Among the Mentally Ill

Sooo, I guess I should start this with a recap of me.

Bipolar Disorder (aka Manic Depression) with possible Schizoaffective Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Anxiety Disorder (generalized and social)
Attention Deficit Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (after hospitalization)

Onset of illness:
First suicide attempt age 7
First Manic Psychosis age 24

Psychiatric Medicines:
Paxil, Imovane, Wellbutrin, Celexa, Zyprexa, Effexor, Lithium, Epival, Serzone, Lamictal. Currently on Epival, Celexa, and Lamictal.

It's strange to start with such a basic reduced profile of who I am. It's really not the whole picture in anyway what so ever. I was an honour roll student, I have a bachelors degree, I'm a filmmaker/video artist, I took care of my mentally handicapped sister while growing up, I read all kinds of stuff, from fiction to comics to academic theory. I watched foreign and independent films since my teen years. I've been a feminist ever since I could use the word. I try to keep abreast of current politics and connect it to history. I've spent my whole life being involved in my culture as a Cree woman. I was out in high school. I've had hamsters, turtles, rats, dogs and cats. I consider my art practice to be political in nature. I'm involved in my communities.

But the fact is, once I tell people my diagnosis, none of the rest of it matters. Suddenly I am Bipolar, a mental patient. I am distilled down to the tiniest essence. Certainly my disorders have shaped my view of the world, my experiences, my beliefs. I've tried since my hospitalization to be outspoken on the rights of the mentally ill. It's hard. The saddest for me is when I'm speaking out about abuse in the psychiatric system and someone else is too, but they distance themselves from me by stating emphatically that they are not crazy. Therefore, they do not deserve the treatment that they got because they're one of the normals. Another peeve I have is when friends insist I am not mentally ill, when I know I am. I finally accept it. But they can't accept that about me, because I don't fit in with what they believe about the mentally ill.

But what I really want to talk about is the myth that we are more violent than the rest of society, what we call the normals. I recently had a squabble with a commenter on another blog about the way the killer of those Amish girls was termed mentally ill by everybody writing on him. She said that schizophrenics were inherantly more violent than regular people. I told her she was prejudiced and should go meet people with mental illnesses. Anyway, it got me thinking. Sometimes when people find out about my illness, they do really weird things, like edge away from me in case I flip and try to kill them. They cut off friendships, I've been discriminated against on the job, lovers ditch me because they think I'm high maintanence.

Because people think we're violent, we start to believe it. A lot of people can't handle accepting their diagnosis because they've been brainwashed with stigma. I know that was a big issue for me. We don't want to take our meds, we try to handle things on our own, we end up denied housing and living on the street.

Why do people think such bad things about us? A few reasons. People are scared of difference, and what they don't understand. People generally are not educated about mental illnesses. Take schizophrenia for an example. People CONSISTENTLY think schizophrenia means having a split personality. It is totally different. That's more like Dissociative Identity Disorder (AKA Multiple Personality Disorder). Also certain symptoms of our illnesses scare the beezus out of people, such as delusions and hallucinations (visual, auditory, and tactile, which is a lesser known hallucination). Some of our symptoms are actually side effects of our meds (shuffling, tics, and shakes).

But probably the worst contributor to stigma towards the mentally ill is the media. Television shows, movies, and news. We're killers, stalkers, etc etc. And a lot of times a violent criminal who's a normal will get slapped with the psycho label just to ease people's comfort levels. As long as it's THOSE people doing this shit, they don't have to worry. The fact is since normal people make up the majority, and since violence is the same among sane/insane populations, the majority of violent crime is committed by normals. Also consider that the crimes committed by people with mental health issues get more sensationalized press time. People eat up stories about the looney tune who flipped compared to the methodical killer who amassed an aresenal of guns over a few years.

Since my diagnosis of Manic Depression I've spent more time among others of my ilk, people with schizophrenia, DID, OCD, Anxiety, etc etc. Even in the hospital, I have never seen one of us become violent. In fact, the few times in my life I've actually been scared for my life has been around normals. I'd much rather have tea with a group of schizophrenics than have beers with a group of normals.

Incidentally, I haven't assaulted anyone. I have been assaulted five times.

Interesting side note: My shakes. Since getting on psychiatric drugs (particularily anti-psychotic/anti-manic drugs) I've had the shakes at certain times, when I'm scared, nervous, upset, doing public speaking, etc. Spilling hot coffee on my hand is the worst. I was trying to figure out where it came from, since I'd never had them B.D. (before drugs). I have a theory now. All of those situations involve rushes of adrenaline, which obviously goes through your brain. It's probable that medication and adrenaline interacts and produces the shakes. It would be nice if they could get rid of that side effect, because it's really hard to cover up fear/nervousness when everyone can see you shaking. Whatever. They should just get over it anyway.

Back to Queer Month (or whatever they called it)

So anyway, back to Queer History month.

Hollywood is crawling with queers. I mean, you would not believe how many. The best one i heard was Julie Andrews and her partner Carol Burnett.

Anyway, here is a sweet video I found on Youtube about successful queers (a lot in Hollywood)

Um, hmm, I have some other non related things to talk about.

Last night I broke my bed. I'd started my period in the middle of the night and was getting out to put on a pad, when I had all my weight on one knee and the slat beneath me snapped and I plunged! Half a foot. Luckily the other part of the slat rested on a board in the middle of the bed, so I could inch over that way.

I've got some stuff on my mind right now. Actually, maybe I will post this and then come back and post my other one on it's own.

Friday, October 06, 2006


I was sitting outside having a smoke with my coworker when we noticed a little white string flying around. That's weird. Then she noticed a tiny spider on me. I brushed it off. More kept showing up. Before I knew it I had about fifteen black spiderlings all over my head and shoulders. It drove me crazy for the next half hour as wee babes kept crawling around in my hair. ARG! They were really cute when I finally saw one, a chubby shiny black body with teeny weeny legs, completely out of proportion like most babies are. Anyway, remember that scene in Charlottes Web with all her babies flying away on webby parachutes saying "Goodbye, goodbye!" That's what these little dudes were doing. And evidently I was downwind from their nest.

I have a strange history with spiders. Once a spider was on me at the Grunt and I freaked and smacked it off and demanded my friend Elaine kill it. She refused and began to carefully escort it out of the opening, following it's slow spider progress. Finally she gave up and got it on an invite and dropped it outside. She was lauded for her compassion towards arachnids and I felt like an attempted murderer.

Currently we have three orb spiders living in our backyard, the most celebrated one being the ingenious tan spider who built her web over the sunporch light fixture. As you can imagine, she's living pretty large. We've had to save her from visitors numerous times. My cousin wanted to kill her by spraying her down with Pledge, but I pointed out that it would only polish her and make her nice and shiny. Since then she's resigned herself to hurling verbal abuse at the spider, whom she has named The Bitch.

Ever since today's fiasco with the spiderlings, I've grown concerned about The Bitch and her potential offspring. Certainly she must have had suitors this summer considering the explosion of orb spiders in Saskatchewan. And the sunporch is completely encased in glass and screens. So this weekend, to save the babies, and our sunporch, and our sanity, we have to construct some kind of mosquito netting holding pen for the orb spiderlings, while still taking care to ensure that she can have her food flying to the web. It's going to be tricky.

And finally a Public Spider Announcement. This is your web:

This is your web on caffeine:

Any questions?

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Bree Van De Kamp's First Orgasm EVER!

If you missed the premiere of Desperate Housewives last night you missed a fuckin' CLASSIC Bree moment. Remember the sex scene that was gossiped about when it was released on Youtube and then taken down? Well, as it turns out it was oral sex, which made Bree squeal, jump out of bed, and run to the doctor convinced she had a stroke, describing this pleasurable spasm she felt. When the doctor said it was probably an orgasm she said "Oh no, I've had those lots of times, that warm tingly feeling, the relief that it's over." Oh man Bree, this explains SO much about you. Yup, her first orgasm, and it's with a murdering murderer. (He killed his wife! He killed her parakeet! He ran over MIKE!) Damn. I don't want her to date yet ANOTHER murderer, but now that Orson's given her an orgasm she's gonna be hooked!! Aw, maybe Gabby will buy Bree a Hitachi Magic Wand to save her from a disasterous marriage.

Anyway, this clip isn't Bree's first orgasm (I'm waiting for it to get posted, believe me), but it's a pretty juicy promo music video of this whole next season.

Oooh, and I also heard a rumour Bree's gay son Andrew is coming back (yay!) and it will turn out he's been supporting himself as a gay porn star since his mom left him by the side of the road.

I feel badly for women who have never orgasmed. I had my first orgasm at an embarrassingly young age (self induced ya perv), I wonder why it's so hard for women to learn how to come. And why are heterosexual men so stupid that so many have no clue how to satisfy a woman? Questions questions.

So the moral of the blog is, go have an orgasm tonight and send loving orgasm energy out to women like Bree Van De Kamp.

****MEH! This came in TODAY from Youtube. It took like, a week and a half!!! WTF. Anyway, update, Andrew will be coming back as a hustler (so the rumour goes) this Sunday. I have no other DH news. And a bazillion other posts I sent from Youtube showed up today, but since I already posted them I deleted them all. So if you came here and saw a great big mess, blame Youtube.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Girls < Boys

I still remember watching the National (with Barbara Frum) on December 6, 1989. Marc Lepine had just murdered fourteen women at Ecole Polytechnique in Montreal because he hated feminists. The women who died were Geneviève Bergeron, Hélène Colgan, Nathalie Croteau, Barbara Daigneault, Anne-Marie Edward, Maud Haviernick, Maryse Laganière, Maryse Leclair, Anne-Marie Lemay, Sonia Pelletier, Michèle Richard, Annie St-Arneault, Annie Turcotte, and Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz. I still remember that cold shaking fear I felt that night, that men could hate women so much. I was eleven, a girl, and already a feminist, and it made me realize how much power men exerted over women, or how much they wanted power. Even how much people hate feminists, men AND women alike. It wasn't feminists who stopped him getting into engineering school. He was rejected because he hadn't completed his prerequisites.

We all said it would never happen again, we all did annual marches, we all tried to raise awareness of violence towards women. Did we succeed? Women are still beaten, raped, and murdered. Aboriginal women go missing or are targeted by serial killers at an alarming rate.

And now, within the space of two weeks, two male gun men have entered two different American schools and taken girls hostage and either sexually assaulted them or planned to, and murdered them. Both men killed themselves. So did Marc Lepine. And in the beginning of September a man went on a rampage in a college in Montreal which killed one woman, he also killed himself. Throughout this the media have focused on the topic of school shootings, in generalized terms. But these weren't ordinary school shootings. The gunmen weren't students. They were adult men preying on girls. Girls specifically. And yet the American mass media won't touch the gender issue, won't look at the role of misogyny in any of these recent shootings.

One news report I read talked about the rope, board with eye holes, and lubricant that the killer at the Amish school brought with him. They said "Something worse could have happened to them than what did." Five girls are dead, shot point blank in the head. Five other girls are in critical care, and will probably die. I don't think rape and murder should be compared, it's too weird. Both are awful things in their own seperate distinct way. But this line implies that a woman's virginity is more important than her life. And it sickens me.

I can't say the Montreal Massacre opened all Canadian's eyes to violence against women, but we did ask each other a lot of tough questions, we were confronted with it, news reporters discussed the issue.

The other creepy thing about American media is the coverage on these shootings compared to the coverage on Rep. Foley's explicit emails and text messages to male pages. TONS of stories are published every day on this issue, people are outraged, people are using it as an excuse to bash homosexuals, people want an investigation. But the lives of girls are merely a footnote. While people frantically try to ensure the protection of male pages, few people are concerned about the safety of females of any age. Think about how many sexual harrassment issues women in Washington deal with continually. Would people be upset if these pages were women instead of men? I doubt it.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Survey Says

Some interesting surveys came out this past week. So far it's been confirmed; lesbians have better and more frequent orgasms than straight women; liberals have more imaginative and sexual dreams than conservatives; napping makes you smarter; people blog as therapy; women are aroused just as fast as men; Christians are more likely to have unprotected sex; and Thirza Cuthand is undoubtedly the most beautiful butch on the planet. Ha ha, I made that last one up. But really, two of those things I could have told the researchers. I don't know where this whole bullshit came from women having to be "in the mood," although in romantic situations, yeah, we'd want it timed right and stuff, but more for various relationship goals or in the interest of self protection than because we're not wet as a waterslide. Sometimes I've walked home from people/situations with drenched panties but that didn't mean I wanted to do it. And porn turns me on really fast, erotica takes a little while longer because there's character development or some form of a plot. Even some of the amateur erotica has like, three paragraphs describing some blondie's butt, boobs, measurements, age, etc etc. BORING! Plus the average dick size goes from 7.5 to 15 inches, HA! In reality average is about five inches.

As for the lesbians have better sex, FER SURE! And I don't think it's that men can't please women just as well, it's that a lot of them are sadly lazy. They think penetration is enough and totally forget the all important little nubbly bit that's the size of a pencil eraser (well, for some, other's have huge schlongy clits). And I think women fake it a lot because they just give up all hope of coming because it's getting late and they're getting tired and he's all sweaty and smelly and it's just not going to happen with the old in out. Poor ladies. There needs to be some kind of clitoral outreach program for straight men, vans that travel around handing out pamphletes and showing where the clit is on a little rubber model of a vag.

As for the Christians, I suspect there is going to be an HIV/AIDS outbreak in Christian communities that their church leaders are going to have to deal with, and sadly then I think we'll finally see real progress in research and prevention.

The Hays Code and it's Continuing Influence on Queer Subtext in Media

I'm bookish, so I always wanted to write about this.

Very briefly, the Hays Code (or Production Code) was imposed on American cinema in 1930 by the MPPDA, which is now know as the MPAA. Basically it restricted what could be shown, talked about, or eluded to. It envisioned motion pictures as upholding the morals of puritan descendants. No sex, nudity, violence, interracial relationships, lustful kissing, homosexuality, disrespecting the flag, etc. Films made during this period alluded to homosexuality, inferences that sometimes only other Queers could catch on. Sometimes the responsibility for the implied queerness came from the writer, sometimes from the directors, and sometimes from the actors. Sometimes the other actor would be totally clueless that this is what was going on in their scene. Literally, the Hays Code fostered a hidden code for queer spectators to see tinges of their lives briefly appear on screen. This became subtext, think Spartacus, or Dave and Hal in 2001 a Space Odyssey, or a slew of Hitchcock films. The Hays Code officially died in 1967, and became the MPAA ratings system. Although one might think that's a positive step, consider how often queer films have been given the dreaded NC17 label, effectively hampering it's distribution and audience. Some out there directors (ie Todd Haynes) still shoot alternate scenes in case they need to squeak under to an R rating.

Anyway, back to subtext. I was an avid subtextual audience member. I loved subtext, and I have to admit I still do. Oh sure, I love blatantly queer work for sure, but in uber mainstream stuff subtext cranks my nipples. The last great subtextual lesbian relationship I was obsessed with was Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine. It was a great plot, starship captain meets borg, liberates her, and succumbs to her feelings. Only that's not what really happened. But I liked to live in a world where it did happen, and so did lots of other lesbians.

Which brings me to slash, or fan fic. It was a natural progression from subtextual readings. Some of the most popular slash is Kirk/Spock, Xena/Gabrielle, and Janeway/Seven. A billion other pairings exist out there from shows such as CSI, Buffy, all Star Treks, Lord of The Rings, Batman/Robin, etc. Some of it's romantic, some of it's sexual, and some of it is violent. What I like about slash is how people were able to interact and engage with mainstream characters and make them more complex, more queer, sometimes even tell WAY better stories than the originals. These iconic figures are our modern day folk heros, and like any good stories, people change them, people retell them differently, they grow and evolve. This is a natural occurance in all cultures with story telling traditions. Of course now we have things called copyright and trademarks and so forth. But it's hard to send someone a cease and desist for sending out photocopies of stories or posting writing on message boards under pseodonyms.

Another interesting thing somewhat related to the Hays Code and the later MPAA is the rise of Queer Film Festivals. The need was obviously there, film and video equipment was becoming more available to the public and experimental films were being created. People wanted to see their lives depicted by people from their communities, we wanted our own stories told. So voila, film festival. If their films were screened for the MPAA ratings board (which was a must in all films being screened), too many films would be censored. So the smart thing to do was for the festivals to require the audience to buy a membership. You can screen whatever you like to members of your society. A lot of festivals do this nowadays, even the big international festivals. Sadly, I think the hayday of the Queer film festival is fading. Programmers are making more conservative choices, shorts aren't being screened as often, and the audiences are demanding films and videos that are more slick and Hollywood, even though we were shunned out of Hollywood all those years ago and still are. There's a lack of decent funding for queer work, and yet DIY work is kind of poo poohed, even though it's the medium for the most marginalized voices.

Anyway, I have one more thing somewhat related. My first video was being screened at The Fire I've Become, a queer film fest at the Glenbow in Calgary. I had just turned a squeaky clean seventeen. I wasn't out at school. Some people knew, but not a lot. I still had another year to go. The title of my video was Lessons In Baby Dyke Theory. I thought it was a funny title. The cast were some pipe cleaner dolls and a monologue of me wondering where all the other teenage lesbians were. Well, the Ratings Board in Alberta got a hold of it. Basically it was rated so that even if I was at the screening I wouldn't be allowed admission because I was underage to see my own video. Not only that, but I got outed by Alberta MP's and MLA's. It's true. One sleepy morning my mom showed me the paper and there was my name, along with a whole lot of garbage about how it was a recruiting film targeting children. The irony of all of this was that my friend Christopher was being kicked out of his MFA program for outing Sylvia Fedoruk, the then Lieutenant Governor of Saskatchewan. She was a prominent official and if word got out she was a rug muncher she could have problems. Whereas I was just a teenage lesbian in a redneck city in a teeny closeminded high school subject to bullying, harrassment, and violence, and my life didn't mean much.

Yup. And that's my story of how the Hays code came to bite me in the ass when I was a teen.

Oh yah, and to illustrate subtext from my fav pairing, check out Captain Janeway checking out Seven's breasts. I too noticed she kept checking out that bust.

Monday, October 02, 2006

LGBTTQ History Month (Or Queer, as I will refer to it)

I just found out it is Queer History month. I didn't really have time to prepare a blog for this, so I'm going to totally wing it and take you back, back, to 1993. It is Saskatoon in midwinter. I had just hugged a girl with breasts and realized a) I liked breasts and b) I was a lesbian. I was fourteen years old. I did not have the internet. We had the Teenage Body Book, so I looked for the section on homosexuality (what a dry clinical word). Basically it said that LOTS of teenagers had these same sex feelings but most everybody moved on to happy heterosexual relationships, and not to pin a label on yourself at such a young age, of course pinning a heterosexual label is fine at ANY age.

Fast forward to coming out, Mum took it well but she said two things which she has denied saying ever since, "Are you sure?" and "Can't you just be bisexual?" Anyway, she went to Ottawa and crashed the women's bookstore for me to buy volumes of lesbian literature, some adolescent stuff, some sex books (no pictures), some comics, I forget what else. Her friend gave me two dozen roses to celebrate. And life pretty much continued like that for a while. I carefully selected people to come out to, I read everything I could get my hands on, I started buying the Advocate and learning politics, I rented Desert of The Heart over and over until I found Madchen in Uniform which I watched over and over. And I found the local queer youth group.

Finding the youth group was a fluke. I'd actually gone down to AIDS Saskatoon because I realized my safe sex knowledge was woefully inadequate with my sexuality. Use a condom. Hmmm. I mean, I had no dildos, I didn't know anyone else my age with dildos, and I knew I'd do other things (I still wasn't totally sure what). So I ended up at AIDS Saskatoon with a ziplock bag of dental dams, finger cots, and a latex glove and a wee pamphlete on Safer Lesbian Sex. Remember, this was the early Nineties. The AIDS epidemic was still HUGELY on peoples minds and all the people my age were getting drilled with safer sex messages (I believe this has sadly fallen by the wayside). Anyway, I noticed a pamphelete for a group called QYSS (pronounced Kiss). It stood for Queer Youth Support Service or something like that. And I was underage to go. By then I was fifteen, and you had to be sixteen (I later sucessfully lobbied for this to change to twelve). Anyway, I went to my first meeting on a chilly winter day and met a sweet boy who is now a well known DJ, and a round lesbian. Nobody else was there. Attendance was always erratic and dependant on infighting and who had just broke up with who. Anyway, they took my for french fries and the boy kept saying Mary and I was so green I thought the lesbian's name was Mary.

I kept going, we met in a tacky tiny boardroom with wood panelling and went through circle check. Everybody talked about how they were doing. That was mostly all we did, and then go for fries and dish. One boy told the round lesbian her peanut buster parfait looked like a bad rim job. I had to learn all these terms really quick or they could zing me and I wouldn't know it. Gay boys taught me how to dish, be catty, look good, and be generally flamboyant. They were great. We learned about a lot of things but the gay community really wasn't interested in giving much to us. Mostly we were an exploitable labour force for the annual Pride Dance decorating community. God, blowing up fucking balloons, hanging garlands off those ridiculous heads at the Ukrainian Hall. It was pretty boring. But we all did it because there was nothing else to do.

Oh yeah, and we changed QYSS to OPY, Out And Proud Youth, which seemed happier. But then a facilitator wanted us to be more mature, and a smart ass gay boy said "So what should we call ourselves then? MOPY?"

A drag queen tried to seduce me while we watched Egoyan's Exotica.

I met my first lover in art class. We'd been at high school in the same grade ever since grade nine, but even though she was cute I never paid much attention to her. I think she just sat down at my table because there was no where else to sit. The other person sitting with us was my friend the cutter, but she's not really relevant to the story. Anyway, we started chatting, I started getting crushed out, my best friend told me to forget it because she had to be straight to look like that. (Ha! My first introduction to high femmes!) Anyway, flirt flirt flirt, we'd flirt all over. I gushed about her to the queer youth group. Then my friend the bisexual man met her and fell in love. ARGGGG! This happened just after I came home from my second ever screening of my first ever video at Out On Screen in Vancouver (about 1995). They went on a date and I was heartbroken and seethed.

And then we had a threesome. (And her nails were really long)

And then we all had a fight.

And then his house burnt down.

And then . . . it was grade twelve by then. People had cottoned on to the fact they had a budding bulldagger roaming the halls, so I'd get shoved or have epithets yelled at me, people threw cans from moving cars, that sort of thing. I was really hating Saskatoon by this point and kept reading the catalogue for Emily Carr to get through the year. I tried to start a GSA at my school but no one was very interested in the meetings on the front lawn even though I brought chips. We all knew who we were at the school, the queers I mean. Mostly bisexuals and a couple gay boys. And I guess the five of us felt conspicuous to all sit together, some were quite stealth.

I went to my grad with two dates who were women, one of whom has since died. And then I swirled out of high school and by the end of the summer I was on a plane to Vancouver.

I've seen a couple people from high school since then, one of my best friends, my first lover, a girl who since came out, I know one of my high school pals is a 911 operator now. I've been tempted to dial those three numbers just to find her, but that's too much trouble. I found a guy I was sure was gay and yeah, he's come out since then.

And that's about it for my queer teen history. I wish there was more salacious stuff in there, like wild nights of lesbian debauchery, but I didn't get much play.