Veg

Am I vegetarian or vegan or pescatarian or flexitarian or what? I cut out meat officially from my diet over a year ago, except I would eat fish on occasion. I loved it. I immediately felt lighter and fresher, and I enjoyed food more. Then two months ago around the year mark, I suddenly had a massive craving for fried chicken seeming to come from nowhere. Even after a year of pretty strictly eliminating meat from my diet, I wanted it. Bad. I admit, I had gotten a little lazy with frozen foods and food that while was technically vegetarian, also wasn't the healthiest, and I also hadn't been running like I used to. But, the way those kinds of chemicals in that fried chicken have been ingrained over the course of years and affected what my body was telling me is a little disturbing. I refrained though and re-read research and got back to the reason I went meatless. And, it even inspired me to start eliminating animal byproducts to make more vegan choices. I thought about it pretty hard, but as I've started eating more plant based than I ever have before, I've felt revitalized and healthy. Better than ever. As the way I've eaten has evolved, I've felt the need to defend myself and my eating choices. While there are the idiots out there who only consider a meal "real food" if it has meat, most of it is my insecurity. Vegetarian/Vegan eating has always seemed taboo and extreme, at least this is the attitude I've gotten, and once held myself. I'm surprised to find it's really not that unusual or difficult, and I've loved what I've been eating lately, so I wanted to share.

Sorry for the blur on this. It's a pretty simple pasta, but so good. Whole wheat penne with roasted asparagus, a store bought Simple Truth Tomato Basil marinara sauce, and white cannellini beans (these guys are great for health). A side of garlic spinach I cooked. That sheen isn't grease but some balsamic vinegar since I lacked a lemon. And garlic bread. I love garlic! I add it to most of what I cook.

 

I made a delicious stir fry in my cast iron skillet a few weeks back. Cast iron is beneficial to cook in because it increases the amount of iron in foods rich with it (so, take that people who says vegetarians don't get enough iron! Fruits and veggies have plenty). This has Rainbow swiss chard, red bell pepper, mushrooms, and tempeh (which is similar to tofu except the soy is fermented, which makes it more abundant in protein, calcium, and fiber, and the flavor is sharper and texture firmer). Cooked in a thick Korean stir fry sauce with ginger and garlic. 

I couldn't resist topping with avocado and also added some peanuts and Nutritional Yeast, which is a much more nutritious addition than cheese. And put over a bed of quinoa. This is probably the most hippie thing I've ever made. Damn was it good. And the best part is that all of these foods blended together are packed with all vitamins and nutrients needed in a meal.

A classic vegan scramble packed with flavorful spices. It gave me a chance to use the leftover swiss chard and mushrooms. A key ingredient is that Nutritional Yeast I mentioned, which is a good source of amino acids. Not pictured is the obligatory avocado and tomato I topped it with.

These are amazing! Probably the best food I've made in a long time. Roasted chickpea and broccoli burritos. I wish I could take credit, but it all goes to Thug Kitchen, my new favorite food blog. I put the filling with kale, cilantro, and avocado in a whole wheat tortilla.

For breakfast I've been eating oatmeal. I don't usually get this fancy with it, but here I put in some mango and walnuts and a scoop of peanut butter. The warmth is nice in the morning, it leaves me feeling fuller longer, and the health benefits are too good not to eat. Have you read about them? Low in fat but filling, low in cholesterol, omega 3 fatty acids, antioxidants. Get you some oats!

I outdid myself with this one. It's a lentil loaf -- like meat loaf but vegan.

I ate it first with crispy kale and skillet potatoes, but it's given me leftovers for days. A slice on a sandwich makes a good lunch. It's like vegan comfort food.

Speaking of comfort foods, who doesn't love a lasagna fresh out of the oven? Well, they can be plant based too. And just as good if not better. This one has kale I needed to use up. I ate it with cooked lentils and will continue to eat on the leftovers all week. This was inspired by the Hungry Hungry Hippie, another blog I love.

Well, this is my defense. To show the way I eat isn't deficient in nutrients but is the opposite. Vegetables, grains, beans, and nuts contain everything needed to be healthy. Or, to quote the Thug Kitchen, "I'M SO TIRED OF MOTHER FUCKERS asking, 'Where do you get your protein?' All you simple minded bastards better read up some. I eat shit like whole grains, beans, nuts, lentils, tempeh... I mean hell, where the fuck are YOU getting your protein?" I hold my tongue at this question but admire how the TK let loose. And, I don't say anything, because I don't judge the way other people eat. It isn't my place. But, it's a little difficult sometimes when I fear I will be in the position to defend the way I do. There's a difference between someone who asks the reasons for my eating habits -- that's legitimate, respectful curiosity opening up to a genuine discussion on food -- and someone criticizing or challenging out of a place of ignorance. 

I'm not sure what I would call myself at this point. Not vegan. That would be too much of an affront to people who legitimately adhere to strict tenants of non-animal based living. Because, I'm not that strict about it. I know those green beans at Cheddars or hash browns at Waffle House I ordered are cooked on food contact surfaces and cookware with leftover animal byproduct residue like grease. That's not the core of what's important to me. I also can't say that if I'm out at my parents house or with friends and we're ordering pizza, I will turn it down. But, my goal is to be more plant based in the way I eat, because that's what works for me.

Memorial Day weekend family cookout is coming up, and not to toot my own horn, but I make a mean black bean burger I can't wait for!

Vegetarian (or Vegan if you want) Black Bean Tacos

The black bean tacos I make are delicious. I'm no cook. I mean, I cook, but it's usually following the instructions of a recipe, obsessively re-checking measurements to make sure I get them correct, and nervously hoping it turns out. Only recently have I started blending what I've learned from different recipes to get creative. These tacos are an exception. I've made many variations in the last year. And, that's the best part. The main filling I make is versatile to fit mood, taste, and preference. Lately, I've been opting to cook for myself while reducing restaurant outings during the week in the interest of both saving money and being healthier -- I know what I'm consuming better. I never used to think I would be so bold to claim that what I make is as good as a decent restaurant, until these tacos. Have any Louisville readers had Taco Punk's black bean tacos? Now, I love this place. Their veggie mole and salsas are some of my favorite local food in town. But, the black bean tacos are a sad excuse. You could toss some black beans and shredded cheese in a tortilla at home, and it would be the same. But, don't do that. There are probably similar vegetarian recipes like this out there, but here's what I do:

Filling:

1 can black beans (15 oz.)

½ Onion, chopped

½ Bell pepper (red or green or yellow, whatever you want – red will be sweeter), chopped

2-3 garlic cloves, chopped/minced/pressed

Whatever other veggie(s) you want (recommended: chopped mushrooms, diced jalapeno for spice, spinach or any other kind of green you like – rainbow swiss chard is good – potatoes)

1 tbsp olive oil (or some water if cooking w/o oils)

Generous chili powder (maybe a tbsp.)

Even more generous cumin (maybe a tbsp.)

Optional: Some cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes if spice is desired (I’ll use this if I want spice but lack a jalapeno)

Salt (to taste)

Topping:

An avocado, diced or sliced or smashed (however you like)

½ tomato, diced

juice of 1 lime

Salt (to taste)

Some reserved garlic if you want (I recommend b/c I love garlic)

Cilantro, roughly chopped

Corn tortillas

Add oil or water to a pan -- I prefer cast iron, but any will do -- to coat. Add veggies (But, if using potatoes, reserve them). Sautee until onion becomes tender and translucent. If adding greens, until they’re wilted and bright green. 3-5 mins or so (If using red pepper flakes, this is a good time to add them). Drain off the black beans but leave enough juice for moisture. Add to pan. Add garlic. Add spices. If using potatoes, they should be cooked separately and added to the mixture at this point. Let simmer and stir/toss around occasionally until moisture is absorbed (I like to mash the beans a little with the spatula). Consistency will be sort of like a dried, lumpy paste.

Topping is easy. Add avocado, tomato, lime juice, salt, and leftover garlic to a bowl. Stir. Make the taco. Add the filling to tortillas and top with the avo/tomato mix and cilantro, or whatever other fresh veggies you want (carrot, red onion, cabbage, celery, good store bought salsa, greens, etc. Instead of cooking fresh greens or jalapeno into the filling, can use as topping instead.) You can do whatever you want! They're vegan up until this point, but if you want cheese, go for it (I’ve used sharp cheddar, Mexican blend, even feta).

Makes 4-6, depending on how full you pack them.

These will do you better than Taco Bell, or even -- I'll say it! -- any gourmet taco place. If anything, it'll be cheaper. So, save a buck, have fun with it, and enjoy a more flavorful and healthier taco.



Base filling cooked with red bell, mushrooms, and a few dashes of red pepper flakes.



WARNING: This Isn't Your Modern Family

 I considered making this post about the banning of Travis Matthews’ 2012 film I Want Your Love to evaluate on a larger scope the overall climate of LGBT media content's distribution, revealing why it's so shunned and limited. But, that analysis is maybe a little too much to take on in a simple blog post. Let’s go off the assumption that it’s pretty bad. My friends hear me griping about it all the time, almost to the point of bitterness, so I’ll try to refrain from my usual diatribe. This film is great. I enjoyed it. The ban in Australia of all places, a relatively modern, major area is ridiculous. Yes, it’s explicit. But, even the word “explicit” has an unnecessary taboo meaning. I like that it’s explicit. Too often filmmakers shy away from depicting sex or do it in a sanitized, staged, and unrealistic way. My favorite is hearing someone who thinks he's a movie critic because he's seen Wes Anderson or Darren Aronofsky or Wachowski films make the charge that certain sex scenes are gratuitous. Those “critics” usually come from a prudish place. All the more reason to explore sex in an artistic way to analyze these reservations. What I love about the film is that those scenes aren’t extraneous to the narrative. They are seemingly small but important moments for these characters – scenes that explore them psychologically and propel their lives to change. Travis Matthews could defend the necessity of these scenes in the film to the point of exhaustion, but that would be missing the point. People -- straight, anyway -- are afraid of gay sex. This ban is a clear indication in the huge double standard (i.e. the counterexamples of straight sex scenes just as explicit receiving an exemption). An exciting movement in queer cinema is happening right now – honest, realistic, and nuanced portrayals of modern gay lives -- that won’t reach the audience it could. Lack of circulation and offensive official bans like this reinforce the conditioned wincing at real intimacy between gay people.

This ban is outright censorship. But, aren’t films like this tacitly censored to an extent even without an official block? Some comments have expressed dismay that Australians are denied this film. Those who want to see it and own a computer can see it though. And, even though I luckily don’t live somewhere it’s prohibited by law, I admittedly saw it from an online download. Louisville – a city in the shallow South that’s fairly progressive with an ample arts scene – didn’t screen it anywhere I knew of. And, if they did, it was probably somewhere small for one night only and wasn’t widely advertised. This film only circulates in the festivals, specifically queer/LGBT ones, a niche. For instance, I highly doubt Baxter or Village 8 would ever carry this even for a week given the production company and unrated status. The way the industry is set up is unofficial censorship.

Does this push the boundaries for straight audiences? I can't play coy by saying it won’t for many. I’ve recommended Weekend – a film I love so much – to most everyone I know, and gauging those reactions has been interesting. One friend I know said that it was definitely extreme in its sex scenes, not in a bad way, but compared to a movie like Brokeback Mountain or A Single Man. Well, I Want Your Love is a good deal more graphic. But, at the same time, the tone is subdued, a chamber piece about a quiet character going through a reevaluation of himself with his sexual identity, his place in the world, his artistic ambitions, and what his life has meant up until that point as he prepares for a life altering move. It may fall into navel gazing territory, but it’s allowed to b/c gay people can finally navel gaze on screen just as much as someone like Woody Allen does. It’s a beautiful, artful, and poignant piece. I shouldn't have to say this, but feel the need to because I know people: Straights who are curious, you will absolutely need to go into it with the most open mind you’ve ever had viewing LGBT content, but I encourage it.

Burdens

As usual, I'm late to respond here to a current event, because I've had a debate with myself about whether or not I should blog it. But after dithering, I needed to, because I find myself angry after President Obama's current stance on gay marriage. I feel badly for being so critical of what many view as a major landmark for LGBT rights. Firstly, I'm disappointed it has taken him this long. This is a statement that had to be lured out of him. A response anyone may give me is the classic "better late than never" rote optimism. But, I'm sorry I can't focus on the now of the situation. A main source of my spite isn't so much at Obama himself, but at what this is politically -- a move. He waited until it was safe. The hateful anti-gay bombs have been disarmed by public opinion lately, and so it's all right for him to come out from the bunker and into the dust. It gives me a queasy feeling, realizing that this apparent public "evolution" is basically strategy for a broken but powerful political machine.

Not only is this supposed new position not all that revolutionary, it's also not marriage equality. For all my mixed feelings about marriage, one aspect I stand firm on is how necessary gay marriage is for LGBT liberation. He has made a clear delineation. He is for same sex marriage only on a state level. Some may need this outlined for them, others not, so I'm going to reiterate what's been outlined in all kinds of studies, articles, and blogs. A gay marriage within a state is not equal to a heterosexual marriage on a national level. Over 1100 benefits are still denied to ALL same sex couples -- married in an individual state or not -- under the federal government. And anyway, putting rights for minorities to a vote by the majority is flawed -- a nail in the coffin. Human rights are not conferred to the disadvantaged by the masses. They are inherent. If only five hetero US citizens supported same sex marriage, that should not be a deciding factor in whether or not it should be put into law. As an outlandish example, if I didn't want Guatemalans, and Guatemalans only, to become legally documented equal citizens to me, it would not matter. Their rights are not for me to decide. So, excuse me if I'm not leaping for joy at Obama and lauding him with, "Oh, thank you SOOO much my hetero President! for helping me get my rights. Give yourself that pat on the back!"

I realize arguments about how change has to happen slowly and on an individual level are circulating out there on the internets. And, there are the well intentioned, honorable, and courageous battle cries about not giving up the fight, but I can't find the motivation to be rallied, and I'm truly sorry about that. Maybe it's because I'm weak willed. Among all of the cultural divide, I'm more so filled with disillusion that being treated equally is something I have to fight for in the first place. When I'm surrounded by the swarm of heterosexism -- even the small things like those dumb stick figure family bumpers to obnoxious Facebook man, wife, and kids picture posts toting them as the "perfect family" to subtextual hints from family members that I should date a girl, even though I am out -- I'm sorry my natural reaction is feeling disheartened and bitter. Similarly, others may argue to me that I need to be an example, a testament for change. When did it become my responsibility to educate the ignorant? Seriously, why is it my job to change the prejudice of the outright hateful grandpa voting against positive gay legislation, or even the soft homophobia of any random dude on the street with a head full of stereotypes and fear of anything feminine in masculinity? Yet somehow I feel like that has become my burden to bear, and it makes me want to say, "Screw it" and live my second class citizen life in my curtained room away from those kinds of people while the political opportunists and analysts use me as a wedge issue.

HE-MAN: The Secret of the...

Some amazing Netflix logic here!

1. Family Feature Animation is directly after Steamy Movies
2. HE-MAN!!!
3. If N-Flix knew me at all, wouldn't they base The Secret of the Sword recommendation on this tour-de-force I unashamedly viewed the other week.
4. Or maybe they are subliminally putting it in the Family Animation for me, like a wink and nudge.
5. Do they think I'm a muscle worshiper?

Netflix!

Horrific: My Response to The Cabin in the Woods (No Spoilers in Here)

When I was about eight or nine, I walked home in the dark from a childhood friend's house to my own only five houses down. Except in this particular case we had just seen IT, Stephen King's clown-demon, terrorize kids through unsuspected sinks, shower nozzles, sewer systems, and caves. Surrounded by menacing suburban trees shaking in the darkness' wind, my whole body was wrapped in fear. Irrational. Even then I knew this clown wasn't real, but for some reason, I still rushed past the water drain in the street court of my upbringing, and on a path I tread over and over growing up, knowing it was perfectly safe. But watching this, my first horror movie, made me feel like I wasn't, that something horrific could easily enter my life. I didn't want to go near a bathroom for a solid month. Horror as a genre is often looked down upon, and understandably at times. Yet it can be one of the most powerful types of movies in that, if it gets everything right and immerses someone in the story, it has the ability to alter the viewers' consciousness to the point their lives no longer feel secure.

After I got over it -- still question whether I really did fully -- and was able to bathe without fear of a balloon full of blood blowing up out of the drain, I was a glutton for punishment. On weekend movie rental nights, while being able to sneak away from my mom's radar, I crept into the forbidden Horror section and eyed the VHS covers with fearful glee, and sometimes, before checking on both sides and with ears tuned in to make sure no one else was around to catch nine-year old me in a treasure trove of R ratings, I would swipe a read of a back cover, engrossed with the then-titillating melodramatic plot description, and maybe catch a frightening picture, like the glint of a Jason Voorhes machete, evil bump faced Leprachaun peering through a dimly lit door, the creepy blank stares of the Children of the Corn kids, or sharp Freddy Krueger claws coming down on a victim's head. My fascination was partly due to the off limits status set by my parents, and rightly so. But, the other part was the need to experience an intoxicating thrill of unease and trepidation, of witnessing seemingly real terror in the comfort of a spectator's role, and the unreasonable feeling the monstrosity could enter into my own life. I eventually was able to see some of these movies, of course, and sneaking Scream at eleven only made me more interested. I would imagine if I were to watch a few again, I would probably LOL forever at some of the god-awfulness. And, by laughing at the movies, I would be laughing at myself for allowing them to scare me. There comes a transition period, though I can't identify a clear time frame for when mine happened, where we realize the movie, like our fear, was silly. The bubble bursts.

After seeing Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard's The Cabin in the Woods this weekend, I've been dwelling on the nostalgia for my relationship with the genre. I recommend it to anyone who has ever enjoyed any horror movie. Without spoiling anything, all I will say is that it is a horror movie about horror movies. Yeah, yeah, I know. Movies like Scream and Drag Me to Hell had the meta self awareness going for them too. The difference here is that it's self-aware while also taking that knowledge to create something original. We all know how flawed the genre can be at times -- misogyny, pointless gore, the dehumanization as a result, lack of any character work, triteness, unintentional camp, plot structures with more holes in it that Pinhead's needles, and the list could go on. But, horror wouldn't exist if the masses didn't create it by consuming it. And, who knows what kind of primal need that taps in to. The monsters represent the real-life kind, or more likely it's not so much metaphor, but that the made up Hollywood creatures provide a popcorn distraction from our true fears. Or maybe a little bit of both.

Readers

Last night, while re-reading and skimming sections of one of my favorite books, A Boy's Own Story by Edmund White -- in anticipation of reading his newest, Jack Holmes and His Friend -- the inevitable finally happened. The spine of the pink cover's front edge had already detached from the pages on the side a few years ago, yet still held on in the back. With a turn of about page 12, the chunk of pages 1-40 fell out. As you can imagine, I was crestfallen. Sure, poke fun, or think, a hashtag of "firstworldproblems" could easily accompany relaying this in a tweet. But, I cherish this book and had been refusing to get a new one despite its decrepitude . It's the copy I had in college, bought because a writing professor and mentor recommended it to me to discover White's illuminating and still-relevant prose, the copy I used in my American Novel class to lead a two day discussion on its first three chapters, the copy with my marginal notes and underlines -- in pencil, I promise! And, of course the first chapter -- an example of some of my favorite writing ever, and the best part of the whole book -- has to be the problem. In the midst of e-readers' increasing popularity, I couldn't help but think of my claws-in-the-dirt stance to refuse them in a sea of recent discussions about DRM and the environmental impact of print versus digital. Some may tell me condescendingly with their marketing and/or computer science/tech degrees, "This wouldn't happen if it was on a tablet." But, despite the way one of my favorite hard copy print books fell apart on me, I still resist a tablet reader, and here are the reasons:

1. I like numerical assignments to pages and despise percentages. The percent system makes it much more difficult to go back and re-read (what would one say during a class discussion or book club meeting? Let's all go to about 12% in?)
2. I cannot sell a digital book back.
3 I cannot lend a digital book to a friend. I know the different companies are working on lending features, but believe it will only be limited to that device within the company (i.e. Kindle users can lend to Kindle users only). And, even if they make lending broader, the personal quality of what lending is all about to me is lost. I recently put two of my Margaret Atwood hard copies on lend, both of which I enjoyed in Florida at different times in my life, and both of which I associate these memories with, and to me, passing them on is also like passing on that part of myself.
4. What about author signings? Two books I hold dear the most are signed by the author.
5. I cannot indulge in the pleasure of perusing used bookstores like A Reader's Corner for an hour and stumbling upon good cheap finds I ordinarily wouldn’t have thought about reading before. I cannot support local shops like Carmichaels. Even if they offer the option of purchasing e-books on their website, part of the local book shop experience is going to the shop itself, getting recommendations from the clerks or talking about books with them.

While I'm sure I can think of more, these are the primary reasons. In the boom of social media and ipads, writers are responding differently from the Margaret Atwood full embrace to the T.C. Boyle fear over what may become of such a plugged in culture. I fall somewhere in the middle. But, I know this much: I will take reading those first 40 pages in a hunk outside the bound book over caving and buying something like a Nook.

Or maybe I can duct tape the spine! I'm sure the dark gray would provide a poignant chiaroscuro against the book's hot pink front. At least better than the disappointing cover of the new edition in its boring, nasty brown and tan hues. That's for sure.

Gay Flicks

Straight people don't care about gay stuff. At least this is the general impression I get. Yet, I have to be inundated with and am demanded to care about movies, TV shows, music, art work, and news with hetero-centric focus. It's a double standard expressed by a character in my favorite movie last year. He makes the ironic and funny, yet true point that people will praise and welcome art work with images of war, violence, poverty, etc. but anything with gay sex, and it is immediately taboo and shunned. LGBT material has been placed in a small niche market in pretty much every media form. Especially as a writer and reader of fiction, my hope is for a transition where it will be accepted in to the main cadre of the respective format (i.e. a well written and layered book classified as gay literature will be seen as good literature in general, and accepted as such within the literary community.) With the buzz of Oscar season, recently I've been thinking more about the discrepancy and gap in movies. Straights can find themselves represented in film easily. The majority are made for you. If you give Brokeback Mountain as a counter-example, I will throttle you. It's more difficult for us gays. They're either these cheesy, campy romps often a nudge-and-wink parody of a mainstream non gay movie but with cheeky exploitative stereotypes or seedy underground films that are essentially softcore porn under the veil of being edgy (look no further than 90% of the selection in the Netflix Gay and Lesbian section, like this one or this one) The similarity between these two categories is awful acting, fake dialogue, and no real characters. The third category is the Hollywood movie pre-packaged for a safe portrayal to cater to heteros -- don't want to push their limits too much! -- that is an opportunistic way for a straight actor to be lauded for playing gay while gay actors themselves struggle getting roles, and new actors in the biz are forced to remain closeted (think A Single Man and Milk, both of which I like but still take issue with). A number of great counter-examples are out there though. I watched a good deal of LGBT movies in the past year -- many of which occupy the realm of the gay genre and haven't gained much audience outside of gay people, which is why I feel the need to share my top 3 (note these are movies I saw for the first time last year, not necessarily with a 2011 release date but made within the last 10 years):

3. Strapped (2010) rating: 9/10 - Some may find this plot a little gimmicky and unrealistic, but it worked for me. If you suspend your disbelief enough, it may for you. A young gay hustler -- don't walk away yet!, I know you may be thinking "Again?!" or "Typical," but I beg you to look past this routinely used character type -- finds himself in an apartment complex after a trick. But, he can't seem to find his way out, as the complex becomes almost maze-like. On his journey to find the exit, he encounters about 5 different types of gay men. I like the way this one is structured in arcs, each exchange a different act in itself. I also like how it plays on stereotypes but then breaks them by peeling back the layers to reveal authentic people.

2. Red Without Blue (2007) rating: 9/10, instant streaming on Netflix - An excellent documentary. I could've picked a great political one exploring aspects of the struggle for gay rights, because there are many out there, but I chose this one because of the personal quality of it. It's about one family --specially two twins, Mark and Alex Farley. They grew up in the typical fake cookie-cutter nuclear family, but in the onset of their parents' divorce, they both came out. The film explores their struggles: Mark's depression, substance abuse, suicidal thoughts, Alex's identity as transgender in her transition to become Claire, the way their parents handle their sexuality, and the connection that both of them have to one another despite their recent decision to live apart. I also picked this one because it not only explores gay issues, but gender and identity overall.

1. Weekend (2011) rating: 10/10, instant streaming on Netflix - Real, raw, and honest, Andrew Haigh's Weekend is now my favorite LGBT film, and beyond that, my favorite movie period of 2011, and definitely my favorite love story in the past 5 years. The review over at Slate can probably do a better job outlining for you, but I'll give you the basics if you don't want to read the whole thing (also a bit of a spoiler alert in their review). It's main character is Russell, an average, ordinary gay guy in Nottingham. Haigh's aim was to depict gay culture in Nottingham specifically, so it has a regional flare, but this depiction will easily resonate with any gay community in a city. We're put in to his POV immediately -- please note this, Darren Aronofsky as an example of how to effectively follow your main character with a shaky cam shot without giving the unsettling feeling that we're stalking them as viewers -- as he goes to a gathering at his straight friends' place (a sequence shot in a way that's coated with the very real feeling of outsidership as a gay man). He leaves early and heads to a local gay club, where he meets Glen. What starts as a one night stand slowly becomes something more neither of them wants to admit. Glen is an artist and records Russell as part of a project he's working on, the catalyst for a gradual weekend long exploration they go on with each other. Their conversations address the gay struggle in one of the most apt and contemporary ways I've seen. Glen is a bit of a radical who is angered by oppression and thinks gay marriage is conformist to heteronormative power structures, whereas Russell is shy, sweet, and is looking for a monogamous relationship eventually. I see myself and my outlook in both. It embraces the tropes of romance dramas in a self-aware way, but turns them on their head by breathing new life in to them within a gay love story. What is so refreshing about this movie is the intense attention to the specifics of character and what it's like to connect with someone, whether gay or straight, providing a gleaming, novel view of what love can be. (Advice: may want to turn on subtitles at times. We're dealing with British low talking mumblers, here)

I'm hoping with movies like Weekend, gay cinema is headed in a great new direction, and maybe it has to be the indie scene to break the barriers. In his recent Salon review of Keep the Lights On, an upcoming similar film which currently made the Sundance rounds, Andrew O'hehir predicts something comparable to New Queer Cinema of the early 90's, except hopefully a turn away from that to something more expansive, something that resonates not just with the LGBT genre, but with open movie goers willing to experience another perspective than their own and discover the reason for the differences while identifying with the similaries of a shared human existence. And, in the end realize a good movie is a good movie. Also, if I can sit through Katherine Heigle trying to find a boyfriend while being a bridesmaid for the 34th time, Micky Rourk trying to date a stripper, Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon Levitt going through a break up set to the tunes of The Smiths, or Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhal screw and sit around naked while she's dying, you can sit through a gay sex scene.

What Have I Been Up To?

Should I come up with a clever first line for my post after an unintentional blog hiatus? One that is self-reflective, poignant, and tugs at the heart strings of my imaginary blog audience? Nah. I didn't mean to go this long without any post. I could say it may have something to do with "writer's block." But that's not true. I have had many FEEEEELINGS I could've blogged over the past 6 months. I could excuse it as blog fatigue. But that's not true either. Or, I could say I wanted the adorably atrotious Purple Hat Willow to be the first gracing anyone's presence upon visiting this page. That may be closer to the truth. But, I can part with PHW on mutually good terms in favor of future posts.


What Have I Been Up To?, Why I Thought You Would Never Ask (In No Particular Order):

I have read 6 books. My favorite was The Year of the Flood. My least favorite was The Art of Racing in the Rain
-Dived off a rock quarry... twice.
-Sneered at an episode of Glee.
-Went on a beach vacation.
-Developed a crush (that was developing previously)
-Saw many movies. My favorite was Weekend. My least favorite was The Wrestler.
-Celebrated a birthday.
-Tried some restaurants that made me go, "YUM!"
-Tried some restaurants that made me go, "Bleck!"
-Watched all of Mad Men. I am team Peggy.
-Listened to much music. To give an idea of my diverse taste, 3 examples are Nero, Bon Iver, Stevie Nicks.
-Injured my foot... twice. Because I am dumb and lazy and refuse to get new running shoes.
-Got new running shoes.
-Sneered at a Lady Gaga television appearance.
-Watched all of Breaking Bad and can report that it's overrated.
-Wiped out in the middle of an engagement party, spilling 2 creamy milk based drinks all over me, and no one cared.
-Stared at a computer screen 40+ hours a week.
-Got over a crush.
-Bought a new -- to me -- car
-Sneered at Zooey Deschanel approximately 38 times.
-Bought 2 cardigan sweaters.
-Realized that Modern Family is not as good as I thought it was.
-Got writing done!
-Was overcome with extreme self doubt at said writing.
-Watched all of Twin Peaks and discovered the owls really AREN'T what they seem.

All of these could have been blog topics in the past months, but they are all bullet pointed here for you to impose whatever you think I may have explored and pontificated on in them. And, that's why this post is just soooooooooooooo... META!

Purple Hat Willow!

Whenever I've had one of those days that is shitty-as-hell, I want to punch twenty babies, and every moment is laden with a silent gloom and disillusion, I just think of purple floppy hat Willow, and all is right with the world again.

But, what if the talking thing becomes the awkward silence thing?

I think you guys sound good.

I bet you have a lot of groupies.

Oh no! Buffy's party!

Hehe. I said "date."

Flannery

I recently found a link to download a talk with The Fiction Master. She gave a lecture at Notre Dame about a year before she died in 1964, and also gave a reading of "A Good Man is Hard to Find." The person who posted it is probably violating copyright laws, because it's only available through the university's archives at a somewhat expensive fee, which is why the part of her reading was removed, but her talk is still up. Listen to it while you can, if interested. It's a rare treat and something you won't come across every day. In it, she comments on the grotesque in her writing and in Southern writing, along with the relationship both have to her Catholicism. Great stuff, and it's here.

(Source)

Read to Write

What's the word? Apparently, writers like Cormac McCarthy and Philip Roth have given up on the word -- at least the made up word. Over at Salon, Laura Miller dedicates an entire article to it. First, I was angry and defensive. What blatant hypocrisy. Then, equal parts disappointed. So, even literary giants like these men don't like to read fiction, which for the most part, the vast majority of people in the world don't read anymore. Philip Roth reads, but in his statement, he claims he now prefers books about history, science, or politics, and goes on to say that he turned away from fiction, because he "wised up." To what exactly, Phil? Because this statement seems to very much bolster the pervading notion that if something isn't true, it isn't valid, and that fiction is frivolous and a waste of time. The overwhelming advice that any aspiring writer gets from the more successful, the advice I've gotten the most of, is to read. Read like mad. But, apparently if you've become a McCarthy or a Roth, you can give it all up after you're successful? You just read to get published, and win Pulitzers, and be a part of Oprah's book club, and then that's it? Miller brings up the appropriate argument that reading too much can actually constrain a writer. I've even heard similar quotes from Alice Munro. I remember reading in an interview with her that she felt reading too much can leave a writer stifled. This is a valid point, because the main goal of a budding writer is to find his or her own unique voice. I think the difference with Munro is that she was warning against reading to the point of imitation, not giving up reading stories altogether.

The reverse ageism underlying in all of the arguments or excuses can't be felt more, coupled with questioning the use for fiction. So, people who have had more experience in life shouldn't indulge in stories? According to this article, they have "reached a saturation point," but then goes on to admit that the novel is perhaps the single most intimate art form revealing the inner life of another person. And, old people shouldn't have this relationship with a story, because they've already met enough people in real life? Huh? What kind of logic is this? The beauty of fiction is in the access of a different consciousness than one's own, and if it's good fiction, the resonance of having this access shouldn't depend on age. Philip Roth may learn facts by reading about science or anthropology, and as Laura Miller notes that staunch proponents of nonfiction proclaim, even if it's poorly written, he will "come away from it having learned something about the world." But, within fiction is just as much truth, only a different kind -- the truth of someone else's experience. The personal truth attests a universal, more transcendent truth. McCarthy or Roth, while were once eighteen, for instance, don't know what it's like to be eighteen now. They don't know what it's like to be a lower class woman living paycheck to paycheck. They don't know what it's like to be a gay teenager kicked out of their parent's home. They don't know what it's like to have survived a rape. They don't know what it's like to be an undocumented U.S. immigrant afraid of law enforcement. They don't know what it's like to fight in Iraq or Afghanistan. And, the list could go on. And on. And, while they may have read stories about people like this before, or even written about people in similar situations, it still won't be the same character who's affected in a different way than the particular story they happen to read at the time. Much respect for both of them, much more for McCarthy than Roth, I'll admit, but the central question I can't get over is this: How can any writer expect their work to be read or respected and not consume and support the art they produce?

He Doesn't Sound Like Someone Who Would Have a Hairy Back

The printed page is obsolete. Information isn't bound up anymore. It's an entity. The only reality is virtual. If you're not jacked in you're not alive. - "I, Robot... You Jane," S1, Ep. 8 of The TV Show

I'm not a person. See me not exist? I'm not on the book of faces, and I don't tweet like a bird. Deleting my Facebook about eight or nine months ago was liberating, and a good number of people have asked me if I miss it, which usually causes me to pause. I think about it, and realize that I haven't even thought about it until they've asked me, so I can say that's a no. I'm broadcasting it in the months after that October post I wrote when I first started this blog that I don't at all. I promised myself I wouldn't write about it anymore, and this post won't be about Facebook. Okay, okay. It is, but it's more about something larger, which is the digital world. Obviously I still live and participate in it without being a part of much social media. I e-mail, text, work a job that glues me to a computer screen for eight hours a day and sometimes more, and read my news mainly on the internet. I'm a cafeteria follower of the digital world. I pick and choose what aspects of it I want to be a part of. And, I've been trying to figure out where I draw the lines. I don't own a TV, which is similarly liberating, but I indulge in a good deal of streaming Netflix and DVDs. I have a laptop and find myself using it for everything, which is part of what I fear about our current technology, especially with that ipad2 commercial where it espouses the greatness of it by showing how it's everything in one device. No, thank you. I still don't know what technologies I find acceptable for myself and which ones I'll pass on. I just recently got a smart phone. Since it was a free upgrade, and the plan was comparable to what I was paying anyway, I figured why not. I hardly use the internet on it though. The only difference is that I'm now updated every time I get an email, which I don't even like and have been meaning to change the settings to disallow that. The week before I got it, I was out at Wick's for the weekly Team Trivia I've been doing for about two years now, and at one point, I scanned my friends, and every single person in our large booth had their head down, crouched over their phones, tapping their screens in silence. I turned to my friend, Alex. "Exhibit A of why I don't want a smart phone." Do we now come out with friends to sit and look at our phones? Is that facebook status, tweet, or Angry Birds game more important than having a conversation in person? Yet, I still caved and got one when I said I never would. Was part of it peer pressure? A response to the jokes I received with my old phone? I'm sad to admit, yes, partly. But, it's scared me into thinking if I gave in to that -- something I never said I would -- what other technology I adamantly refuse will I gradually and inevitably embrace?

At times, I feel like a paranoid lunatic, or think that's how I'm being perceived by some people. Either as someone who's needlessly cautious or someone who's a snob. The issue I'm questioning is one that's been around for quite some time. While thinking about it the past few months, I felt like being conflicted with the digitalization of information and interaction was something specific to the last five years or so. I recently watched an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the campy and self-aware 90'stastic first season, and it hit the same mark I'm writing about now. I found myself falling into the same stance as Giles, the dry but wry British librarian, who outright resists computers altogether, instead of Jenny Calendar, another teacher, who thinks he's a snob for it. He explains at the end of the episode that he doesn't like computers because they don't smell, and as he bumbles, "books smell musty and-and-and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is a - it, uh, it has no-no texture, no-no context. It's-it's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then-then the getting of knowledge should be, uh, tangible, it should be, um, smelly." I've also wondered how prescient the last chapter of Jennifer Egan's A Visit from the Goon Squad is. It thrusts forward to a future world in which people have "hand sets," which I assume is some device like a phone attached to one's hand, people T, meaning text. There was some law passed to protect personal digital information, because it's implied that certain companies somehow exploited people's personal information for marketing purposes, though specific names like Google, Facebook, or Twitter never appear.  Language has changed, and words like "freedom," "democracy," and "story" are all written with quotes around them, because they no longer have any meaning. Text language is ubiquitous and is characterized by abbreviating everything while taking out all vowels. In my experience with the way some people in my life email and text, I can see this shift happening, which is sad. Language evolves, and I'm a strong supporter, but not to the extent of wiping out core elements of what makes our language artful and intelligent. If someone texted or emailed me in this way, I probably wouldn't respond. Or would I have to if everyone in my life did? The hashtags and @reply symbols I sometimes use in emails with my friends ironically, and partly to poke fun at how base digital communication is would no longer be ironic. It would be how I would have to communicate. This gets at the core reason of my resistance to some digital media: it was supposed to make people smarter, but it's seemed to do the opposite, clearly evidenced by the way our language has been dumbed down by it.

Personal interaction. This is the reason I give when asked about why I don't participate in social media. "Because I value personal interaction more," I'll say. It's an easy answer to give, and I've given that same rote response so much I've lost what it even means at times. I also say it's to free myself of distractions. I'm distracted enough as it is to the point where I now put my phone in another room and close the door during activities like a good Saturday morning writing session, and even then I'm on my computer with Gmail or Youtube just a few key strokes away. I often wonder how I get any reading or writing done. That's not to say I don't enjoy what digital media has given me. I like that I can cultivate my own media experience. I can watch the TV shows and movies I want to on Hulu or Netflix without having to own a TV and bring in what I don't want into my home. I can email with a friend who's currently teaching English in Vietnam and follow the blog of her daily events. I can find any previous This American Life podcast I remembered from three years ago and want to re-listen to. I can indulge my love of pop culture while particularly bored at work by texting cast parties back forth with Alex. My ipod is pretty convenient, another technology I once resisted and now have come to accept. Although, I'm guilty of itunes purchases instead of buying from Ear-x-tacy, the local music store in town, and also downloading music in torrents. But, I draw the line at e-readers. And another major line is when it comes to something like real human interaction, which can't be replaced by media. Once, I skyped and was crept out by it. Not just by the audio and visual delay, because even if that glitch was fixed, which I'm sure has been by now, it would still be unsettling to have an interaction with this computer screen, pretending as if it's the loved one. I'm someone who likes to think before I express an idea, who chooses his words carefully. Sometimes this is why I may be a little quiet in social settings, apart from some shyness. This quality I have is part of what makes me want to text or write an email or message instead of speaking in person. It's more controlled. It's not chaotic and free-flowing. I can ponder. So, it's not always easy for me. And maybe this why I'm afraid I'll eventually give in to what I say I won't now. But, I keep in mind that placing more emphasis on written communication as opposed to real time isn't authentic, and that's been my goal by taking out some digital communication in the last almost-year, to experience people in all their quirks and personality more authentically. In that Buffy episode, Willow dates someone over the internet (who yes, in true Buffy fashion, turns out to be a demon), and Buffy is leery, pointing out that she can't know him based on what he writes in messages, saying "he could be a circus freak -- he's probably a circus freak!" and says, jokingly but with a hint of seriousness to Willow, "He could have a hairy back." And, she responds, "Well... he doesn't sound like someone who would have a hairy back." As silly as this point is garnered from the show, Willow's reaction is similar to how people now view interactions with people online, as genuine and wrapped in the illusion of connection, when true connection can't be replaced by the cold, unfeeling, visual field of the computer or phone screen.

What about you? What is your relationship with how you interact with the people in your life and technology? Does such a heavy reliance on digital communication bother you like it does me, at times? Do you ever make an effort to limit it? Or not? Do you think that anything that helps being connected to more people is something good? Do you really think things like social media connect us to the world more? I've been telling myself my smart phone purchase can be offset by lack of FB or twitter. I guess in the end, it's all about a balance. And, I've been doing well in the last few months. I have noticed a difference in the way I value the real communication I have with people, even if they are status updating at the dinner table just a pizza or burrito away.

Not to sound racist/homophobic/misogynistic, but...

Whenever someone makes this offhanded preface as a stipulation for what they're about to say, believe what comes out of their mouth next is exactly what they claim it's not. I can say for certain this is true 9/10 times. Just an FYI I want to share, especially in light of Tracy Morgan's recent rant, and the following insincere PR BS.

Call Your Girlfriend

I watched Robyn's new video last night, then went about my life, and then the more I thought about it, the brilliance of it started to resonate slowly. It's one long single shot, she dances, lights flash. What's the big deal? It's the simplicity. In a culture of pop music in which videos are ADD central, and each shot is quick and the cuts sharp, most feel like a visual assault. So, that's why this is so refreshing to me. I watched it again when I got off work, and again, and then a fourth time. It's mesmerizing, demanding that the viewer focus without realizing that's what's being demanded. For the most part, I don't listen to much pop music, and for the acts I do, I usually deem them my "guilty pleasures" and won't admit to liking save for around a select few people. Robyn is my exception. I feel like she's everything Lady Gaga should be but isn't. She's unique. Just look at those dance moves and 80's wear! The difference is that she's just herself without the contrived image. This video re-affirms my opinion, and I wanted to share. I started listening to her Body Talk series in January, fell in love with it, also wrote this post in which Robyn was a part of my discussion, and she's been blowing up my ipod for a solid 5 months now, and I'm going to see her on Sunday, which I feel is like the culmination.

This Weekend in Quotes

Even though it's Saturday night and there's a whole other day and rest of the night ahead of me -- why yes, I'm putting up a blog post at 10pm on a Saturday night, because I'm the most popular -- I've encountered a few life-affirming quotes so far this weekend. Here's a few examples:

"I really hope they put off the Rapture until after the Preakness. I kind of want to see it." - my dad

"I wish I was Facebook friends with him so I could de-friend him." - Meg

Preface: My mom bought that "fantabulis" red couch (see this post as a reference) she's been dying for. Except with Gracer (see this post as a reference) she doesn't want to get it ruined, so she put a plain white cover over it. She sits down on it, crosses her legs, throws her head back, and sinks into it with both arms sprawled and cusping the top of the cushions. "Oooh, I just love sitting on my new couch. Too bad I can't see it."

My mom hadn't heard about all the Rapture hoopla. When my sister and I told her about it. "No, He'll come like a thief in the night. No one will know the time nor day."

Poll time. Who do you think my mom was referring to when she used the vague patriarchal heavy, gender-biased "He"?

A. Yahweh
B. The Flying Spaghetti Monster
C. Scott Peterson
D. Jeebus
E. Mithra
F. Sharktopus

Plath!

Making Up The Rules

I've been confused lately about what it is I actually want. And I mean in the way of my life and how I live it. I'm not really sure how I would categorize my lifestyle. I tend to shy away from anything too personal on this blog. I'm pretty selective about my online presence (No FB, remember, and a big yeah, right to tweets), out of fear that I'll look back on it and regret divulging intimate details and feelings I had. I consider myself a private person. I suddenly feel the need to get a bit personal, though. I don't know why. Maybe because I've been wrestling with these questions and conflicting feelings lately.

When I first came out -- not the arduous process of self-acceptance that took years to gain, but the point at which I was comfortable to tell people close to me -- I had this ideal of eventually finding the right guy to have a big gay wedding with, legal or not, and that would be that. I would be settled and happy. Of course, over time I got jaded, and my experiences and attempts at finding this chipped away at the ideal, even to the point that I stopped believing in romantic love. I still don't to a certain extent. But, lately for some reason, I'm starting to gain back this vision for my life, though not with the same naivete as a teenager, and I wouldn't call it an ideal anymore, but more like opening myself up to the possibility of settling down and sharing a life with someone. Companionship.

This troubles me. I can't help but feel like one big sell out for it. I believe gay marriage will eventually be legalized on a national level in my lifetime, at least I hope. It won't happen overnight or without activists willing to take a stand. Strides are being made. DADT was repealed, and Obama states the Justice Department will no longer defend DOMA. But then, people like John Boehner plan on digging their claws in the traditionalist dirt to counteract and spend huge amounts of money in a shitty economy in the process. It could be in a year, or it could be in another ten to twenty. Who knows? But as progress on marriage equality continues to slowly advance, I ask myself, even if it were legal, would I even want to get married? My go to answer is no, absolutely not. But as I stated in the preceding paragraph, my beliefs for my future are eroding somewhat. Some may claim this is typical of most people in my generation -- sowing their wild oats in their early twenties and then reforming later and getting married with white picket fences and little ones to pass on your own emotional issues to. Some may tell me, it's called growing up and being responsible. Thanks for the condescension, and for the gross generalizing. The issue I'm dealing with seems to be what many LGBT people are questioning now I imagine: Is getting gay married conforming to the heteronormative power structure that's disgustingly oppressive or does it subvert it?

My answer is that it's most likely a little bit of both. But, I'm here to tell you my experience as a gay man who is denied the option to get married on a federal level gives me a perspective on how deeply flawed the institution of marriage is in general. Don't get me wrong, I've encountered many lovely married couples. I'm not criticizing anyone who is married or who wants to get married on any personal level. I just take issue with the massive importance that's placed on it. I never understood why Christianist right wingers claim gay marriage will destroy the institution. If anything, wouldn't allowing more types of people to enter into it fortify it? Logic would dictate people like me would be the "crusaders who are going to tear marriage apart." Of course, this isn't the case. I don't care if people want to get married, I just question whether or not it's for me. I'll give my opinion of what I would like to see our country do with marriage. To me, marriage is a religious institution that should be separate from the government. Civil unions between consenting adults with equal benefits for all under the government would be my ideal. It goes without saying that there wouldn't be restrictions based on gender, race, religion, etc. Churches could deny same sex couples marriage within them, bigoted as they are, because they are separate from the state. Those who are religious would be married in their church, and then their partnership would be recognized on a federal level as a civil union, along with all other partnerships under the government. Fat chance at this ever happening though. Whatever way it eventually happens, I can't stress how important it is that gay unions be on a federal level. Marriages that occur in the six states, while they are wonderful in the course of gay rights, are not equal. All federal benefits are still denied (which I won't explicate on here).

Maybe this re-evaluation and consideration of eventual marriage for myself could be from all the political debate on the issue or maybe it's part of living where I do. Kentucky is traditionalist central, among the others. Louisville isn't too much of an exception. People always say Louisville is where people grow up, move, and then come back to raise their families. I'm definitely generalizing, but people here tend to hold fairly traditional values. A woman in my office this week told me that I need to have kids soon, like within the next year, so my parents can enjoy grand kids. I mean, really? Why are marriage and kids the end all and be all? I've thought maybe I would get married eventually only if it was on a federal level, but then I recently read this, which re-affirmed my former skepticism. I like the point that, of course, marriage equality for same sex couples needs to happen, but for me, it's mainly because of the principle, the way it's discrimination, not necessarily because I plan on marrying. I've imagined what it would be like if I got married. It would be even more conflicting. What kind of a relationship would I want? Certainly not an imitation of straight couples. The main problem I have, among the others, but the one that really gives me an uneasy feeling is the implicit shackles of ownership of another person. I don't want to be owned, and I would never want to own anyone else. But then alternately, I know I wouldn't want something like an open relationship. Not because of morality, but because I know I wouldn't be able to handle it emotionally. Many straight couples getting married have relationships that defy and challenge former traditions, especially with gender roles. Gay couples similarly forge new values and ways of living, but to me, more obstacles abound, because more is at stake. Straight couples don't deal with the hurdles of prejudice or a political lens, and different gender boundaries are crossed. As a gay man, I've always felt I walk between two worlds of what's masculine and what's feminine. I identify with the boys' club and groups of females while also being excluded from both, and really not fitting in to either. That issue would be a whole other post, but the point I'm trying to make is that self-identified LGBT people have more gender issues to contend with that resonate in the relationship. Whichever I decide, and I'm currently waiting on this Puritanical country to even give me the choice, I'm ready to make up my own rules and values as I go along.

The homophobia I'm increasingly surrounded with doesn't help too much. It can get pretty disheartening and spirit breaking. The little slights and comments that don't seemingly mean much act as the subtext for greater issues. Like when someone tells me my opinion as a man on something as frivolous as Sex and the City or buffalo wings doesn't matter because I'm not a hetero man or when someone makes a cheesy one-liner directed at me when the concept of flame wars or hot dogs come up in conversation or when a grown man still uses one of those infantile phrases in which "gay" means "stupid" or "lame." The prejudice I notice is becoming less and less subtle. I think there are more people like this lovely gentleman out there than some realize:

Sufferin' Monkeytails!

Opinion:

Should I do a monkey tail? What do you think? Pick one of these options:

1. Absolutely
2. No. You're already a fool.
3. Maybe. Only if you color it to make it striped

It's Infiltrating!

This is clearly a direct result of the Don't Ask, Don't Tell repeal.

OMG! Is this what Tony Perkins and Maggie Gallagher were warning us about!?