After reblogging a post about the homophobia of straight men, it reminded me of last night which was spoilt, yet again, by straight blokes. Mostly, it was them perving on my girl mates. They do this thing where they pretend they know me, to try and get in with my mate(s). It’s pitiful, they are such dregs.
And the other thing: the touching. Why is it that men I do not know insist on touching / fondling me in that HILARIOUS “hey, look, I’m gay, isn’t this just sooooo amazingly humorous” way?
I don’t know you, I don’t want you feeling my balls or tweaking my nipples or trying to fucking kiss me.
And then they turn round and come out with some homophobic bullshit about an actual gay couple on the dancefloor.
My brain is fucking melting from the stupidity it has to witness.
I’m home and I’m listening to the new Belle And Sebastian album
And it’s good and it reminds me of you.
And I was okay cos I was in town with Emma and distracted
Probably talking shit about something or someone.
And I was okay because I’ve learned how to not see you
There, at the edge, don’t look, don’t think.
When I’m distracted enough.
And then I get this wave crash over me
Always shocking, always smothering
Like, NO no NO NO NO!
Trying to wake myself out of a nightmare
But then I realise I’m awake
And that I can’t wake up any more than I am.
Do you remember when my eye got injured in Norwich?
I had to walk to the hospital and back on my own
We were both really worried
I didn’t lose my eye
I lost you.
I wish it was the other way around.
I know, in some universe, that it is
I lost my eye but you stayed with me
I am so envious of that me
He probably thinks he’s unlucky
But if he could see my life:
He’d hold you And kiss you And hug you forever And never let you go He’d tuck your hair behind your ear And listen to your beautiful voice As you made the world beautiful.
Back in this universe,
Nothing means anything
Nothing has any flavour
So I eat and eat and eat
And then I sleep,
Hoping to see you smile again.
I’m quite used to being the only non-white person at alt clubnights. Whether it’s indiepop, pop punk, hxc or whatever, these are mainly white, middle-class scenes. Well, you can tell that if you look at my clubbing pics.
Last night this State Champs song came on in the Basement at Rock City, around 4.15am and I saw a small black girl singing along to all the lyrics.
This made me insanely happy so I kind of pointed at her and started singing along too. I know, corny but I just wanted to connect.
So, we sang the song to each other, dancing all the time and then high-fived at the end before she left.
It was such a lovely little moment and sooo nice to be loving a pop punk tune with another non-white person, to feel a little less weird and out-of-place.
My dream would be to see a black or Asian woman at a straight-edge gig but that really would be asking for the moon on a stick.
There’s a moral ambiugity here that reminds me of Continuum and that’s lovely to see in mainstream anime.
Also, every episode feels like a full-blown film, the backgrounds, the character animation, the integration of CGI-modelled and human-drawn elements. And the soundtrack by Yoko Kanno perfectly matches and heightens the drama, she never intrudes, always enhances.
Amongst my mates, there’s a divide. Some only watch serial anime, some only watch feature-length films. Anything less than Tekkonkinkreet or Paprika, they turn their noses up at. If you’re in that camp, give Terror In Resonance a go, I think you’ll like it. You’ll feel at home in its cinematic sumptuousness.
This is my life now. Just House Of Cards. House Of Cards forever.
S3 is undulating along, so many plots, counter-plots, subtexts, infratexts, metaphors, allegories and outright “HEY, THIS IS WHAT OBAMA IS DOING, GEDDIT? GEDDDDDITTTT?”
Will there ever be any better dramatic television than this?
Again, House of Cards is an embarassment of riches. There is not a single weak performance or unconsidered line. Obviously, you can read it as Macbeth and that’s valid because, in all honesty, what’s changed since then and now? Sex and addiction, power, corruption and lies? No, they’re the same.
The immediacy of setting, the fact that so many of us are familiar with US politics because the US is the dominant cultural and military force in the world today, this closeness is what makes the blade all the sharper. We can draw on all the old tropes; Jackie O. and Watergate, LBJ and scumbag Nixon. We can be smug and feel like insiders on the joke, getting the sly references the equally geeky writers throw in to tease us.
Moreover, even if the specifics of House of Cards seem melodramatic, we know the generalities are true. In fact, one could make a case that this drama underplays sex in the Oval Office, government money being siphoned for covert ops, US involvement in “regime change” compared to actual, documented fact.
Well, it’s 3.45am now. I paused it to write this. I’ve just cooked some sausages, fuck knows why. Perhaps because I haven’t eaten for hours and I’m hungry, I don’t really know any more. This job in Underwood’s office… the things I’ve seen, man. I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m cut out for it?
Sometimes it feels like it’s not even real. Like I’m just a robot or somebody watching it all on a screen from miles away.