The Secret

Forget "the Secret."  Here is the real secret to living a successful and fulfilling life.  

1. Let go of your suffering and your desire...in short,  "Let it be."
2. Laugh and dance and sing and laugh.  You can't do too much of any of these things....especially the laughing part.
3. While on your journey, help as many people as you can.  And remember to do it without revealing your secret identity to anyone....sort of like Batman. 

These rules are of course extremely hard to do, especially the letting go part.  Think of them as goals to strive for. 

Surviving the Total Perspective Vortex

In “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe” Douglas Adams describes a torture device called the Total Perspective Vortex. Victims placed inside the device are shown their infinitesimal place within the immensity of the universe. The minds of nearly everyone who is thrown into the TPV are completely crushed by the experience.

Recently, I experienced a series of soul-crushing events that were so extreme and happened so closely together that it was very much like being thrown into the TPV. The experience caused me to back away from nearly all interactions with people until I could reassess my life and my relative position in the universe. 

One ding to my self-actualization came when I discovered that I was forbidden from going to my own granddaughter’s birthday party….again. I knew right away (and had this later confirmed by said granddaughter) that I was not allowed to go because the LDS side of the family “does not like me.” (i.e. I am a freak and a danger to children.) It was a perfect example of irrational bigotry (as opposed to reasoned and rational bigotry.)

I was hurt. I was angry. My rage was justified, but lashing out to that bigotry with unreasoned bigotry of my own was not. My comments on this thread were out of line. I offer no excuses but simply and humbly apologize to my Mormon friends (if I have any left) for my words. 

Another soul-crushing to my well-being occurred when several comedians came together to criticize “burners.” They called them dirty and disgusting and that they should just get a job. Every insult that used to be hurled at hippies was now re-hashed and hurled at people who are dear friends of mine …including my own daughter.

I attempted (perhaps too zealously) to explain that they were being bigoted and prejudiced against people they didn’t know. That’s when the shit storm hit. Suddenly all their ire turned directly at me. My attempts to defend myself only gave them more ammunition. It ended up with personal attacks on my character…that I didn’t know what humor was and that I was a hypocrite. They meant it to sting and it worked. I was in tears.

I did nothing wrong and will not apologize for my words. But in hindsight, my mistake was to get involved in the conversation in the first place. They were comedians after all. Being snarky is what they do. What did I expect? It was like plopping down into a pit of scorpions and saying “say, did you guys ever think about NOT being scorpions for a while?” That sort of thing rarely ends well.
Lesson learned. In the future I will do my best to stay out of any thread that is insulting to me or anyone I love. No more trying to teach a pig to sing.

One word from those that commented on this thread…if someone is already dizzy and reeling from personal attacks and criticism, it’s probably not a good idea …however well-meaning it may be…to add more criticism on top of it.

Several of my critics accused me of being a “narcissist.” This is particularly troubling as several people in the past, independently of each other, have referred to me in this way.

It is doubtful that many of my “comforters” are aware of the clinical definition of narcissism. A narcissist is not just someone who is in love with themselves. They are abusively so. They seek out victims (called the “Narcissistic Supply”) who can provide the narcissist someone to dump on and belittle. A large part of my reassessment consisted of trying to figure out if I was one of these people after all…if the criticism of “malignant self-love” could accurately describe me. I didn’t think I was abusive but I wondered if it is possible to be abusive and not be aware of it. I actively avoided people because I didn’t want to take a chance that I really was a narcissist and seeking out a new supply.
I think now, though, that what my critics were actually accusing me of was something more akin to being “self-absorbed,” and there is some truth in this. Yes, I am quick to take offense. We “People of Trans” live in a state of nearly constant denigration of our very existence, and we cope with it in different ways. Some hide from the criticism and go completely stealth. They pretend that they aren’t trans at all or insist that they are no longer trans. Those that choose to be out about their affliction often have their sense of humor completely burned out of them. Some retreat into themselves and have a difficult time considering anyone’s pain but their own. Almost all develop hair-trigger anger responses to criticism.

Pain ennobles no one.

I think it is unlikely that I am narcissistic in this clinical sense.  Narcissists do not respond to criticism well. They dismiss the criticism out of hand and personally attack the ones that dared to criticize them. I DO NOT DO THAT...so I can completely dismiss anything those fucking idiots said about me.

I’m sure a large part of the accusations come from my tendency to assume that if anyone is angry at all or expressing anger, it must assuredly be because of something I did. This is a family legacy. Paranoia runs deep in our tribe. (I say this not as an excuse for the behavior but as way of explanation.) The important thing is that this week, when I was trying to fit the shattered shards of my life back into something resembling a human being, I discovered that this was my mother’s energy, not mine. Consequently, it was the one thing I wanted very much NOT to reintegrate.
It will be a difficult struggle since I am fighting against my biology, but I very much hope to be able to accomplish this. I have lived with the fear of becoming as certifiably insane as my mother for many years. Perhaps, if I can be free of this, I will be free of that fear once and for all.

In the meantime, I deeply apologize to anyone that my familial paranoia has alienated or offended.

Spotlight: Out of this world

After a couple of disappointing shows, I am pleased to report that the Spotlight show is back on track and better than ever.  This is not your typical drag show.  What started out as a drag king show has become a showcase for kings, queens, femmes, male leads, and burlesque…an avalanche of alternative performance.   This show proves that lip-synching can absolutely be an art. 

The theme for this night’s show was “Out of this world” and most of the performers had acts based on that theme.  Interestingly, it was these acts, going beyond drag and burlesque clichés, that were  the most successful. 

No one typifies this artistic sensibility more than Mr. Eddie C. Broadway.  He, probably more than any other performer in the show, knows that drag is primarily a visual medium.    His Avatar and Mad Max outfits could stand as works of art on their own.   But it was not just about the costumes.  His choreography was uniquely tied to the outfit.   His subtle twitching during the Mad Max act was a particularly nice touch. 

I haven’t spoken much about Melody Broadway in the past.  To be honest, her acts were disappointing.   Last night, however, she easily won the most stylized and interesting act award for the evening.   Her first act was an odd Kabuki inspired number.  It may have referenced some pop culture that I am unaware of but it didn’t matter.  It was quirky and ineffable and I loved it.

The guest performers,  Symphonie von Liebe and Dix E. Tracy, in keeping with the Science Fiction theme, did an amazingly sensual meeting of Kirk and Spock.  As much fun as it was to see the beloved Science Fiction icons portrayed by beautiful woman, it was much more fun to see those same icons ruin each other’s makeup with passionate, on stage making out.   Oh yeah, and the choreography was nice too.   Sorry, I’m still having flashbacks to that lipstick besmirching kiss. 

Freddie Prinze Charming, the presenter of the show, served as MC and had one act.  He was painted silver from head to toe and sported a large silver “F” on his chest.  The effect was very entertaining.  He displayed a raw masculine power that is missing from a lot of king acts, who while dressed as men, still often display feminine gesturing. 


The various queen acts were for the most part disappointing.   Rather than follow the general theme of the show, they chose to stick with traditional drag routines  (if the word “traditional” can be ascribed to a drag act.)  Felicia Minor, while staying in the drag milieu, was energetic and fresh.  Seeing her interact with the audience is always fun.   Some of the other queen acts started off interesting enough, but ultimately degenerated into simply collecting tips…to the point of leaving the stage empty for an awkwardly long time.       

If you’ve never seen a Spotlight show, you are truly missing out on an experience.   This is not just the best queer show in town.  It’s the best show. 

Th-th-th-th-that's all folks

I could not think of a more fitting place to have the swan song to my comedy career than at Gunner Daimon Gatlyn's fund raiser for ....well, for whatever MI title he doesn't already have.   The one set I was expecting to do went very well.  Lots of appreciative compliments both on the act and how awesome I looked.  (Not sure which compliment I appreciated more.)  

The second, unexpected set did not go well and I cut it short.  I should have known better.  One of the rules I learned over the years is that after 10pm, the audience will not respond to an intelligent set.  They are usually so drunk by that time that the only thing they will laugh at is how often you say the word "fuck."   I once testing this hypothesis by doing a set after 10pm entirely in Middle English heroic couplets.  The difference was that I ended every line with some form of profanity.  I absolutely killed.

But it was particularly fitting that my last appearance on stage should have ended with the audience not really listening to me.  The words of Eliot came to mind:

This is how the world ends
This is how the world ends
This is how the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

Schadenfreude

I had to pick Kenny up from school the other day. When I showed up, the nurse was confused. She was expecting a Jimmye Winburn to pick him up. I told her that I was Jimmye Winburn. More confusion. She asked if she could see my ID. I presented it to her. She looked at her computer screen and now looked especially confused. "Oh, I'm sorry. We have you down as Kenny's grandfather." 

"Yes," I said. "I AM his grandfather." 

Her confusion turned to pained perplexity. 

I let her delicious confusion stew for a bit before releasing her from her torment. "I'm transgender."
"Oh!" she said, "I am so sorry. So Sorry."

"It's OK."

"I am so sorry."

When you're trans, you take whatever schadenfreude you can. I am SO going to hell.

I'm out

I have been asked if I am actually retiring from comedy.  I can say now that I am. 

With very few exceptions, the comedy world has made it abundantly clear that my presence is not welcome.  And since the vast majority of comedians are terrible people that I wouldn't want to hang out with anyway, I am not really losing anything. 

There are other trans comedians...sure.  Some of them have even managed to thrive in the community.  I can't...or I just don't have the moxy... or too old... or simply too tired.  I'm tired of being played off the stage in the middle of my act and having the host tell people that the performer up after me is a "real woman."  I'm tired of a host stopping me in mid act and saying that no one wants to hear five minutes of body stuff after he just did fifteen minutes about farting.  I'm tired of getting helpful advice that I should do something other than trans comedy because it makes people uncomfortable.  (i.e. it made HIM uncomfortable.)   And I'm tired of being passed up for gigs...even for shows that feature other LGBT performers... because I "just don't fit in." 

A while back I unfriended most of the performers I knew on Facebook.  They had clearly only friended me to be able advertise their shows anyway.  I may have to unfriend a few more soon and for the same reason.  If you are a performer and have never commented on any of my stuff,  you will soon find yourself with one less person to invite to your show....not that you would notice.   I doubt if any of you have even bothered to read this blog entry.  

Another trans performer once told me that every time I go up on stage and do my transgender shtick, I make life a little better for all of us.  I followed that advice for five years and just got a lot of heartache for my trouble.  Doesn't matter.  The schmagekkes have won.  I'm out. 

I am so out that I don't even want to SEE any more comedy or drag shows.   Don't bother inviting me.

This is the healthy thing for me to do.

Finally, this is my advice to other comedians who are trans but have not made it part of their act.  STAY STEALTHY.  Do not come out.  All you will do is make trouble for yourself. 

A manifesto of sorts

Please bear this in mind when you are conversing with me:
1) I do not "like" men.  In truth I can barely tolerate them.  I spent fifty years and a lot of money trying to escape having to see a penis every day.  The last thing I want is to bring another one into the picture.  So guys (cis-men, trans-men, pseudo-men, demi-pseudo-trans men, and everything in between,) fucking give up.  I'm not going to date you no matter how attractive you think I am.
2) I am not your damned therapist.  My life is not "all together."  When you come to me out of the blue and detail just how badly your life sucks, all you are going to do is push me into the corner weeping piteously as I remember just how badly MY life sucks.  So much loss.  So much loss.
3) Do not give me helpful advice on what I COULD do to be a better producer/capitalist.  My brain is hard-wired to screen out any talk about money matters.  *I* can't do anything and your comments on "why can't you see this?  It's so easy." feel like you're whipping me.  Don't fucking whip me. I will cut you.
4) No, I probably do not know your friend who also a) is gay b) is trans c) lives in Arizona.
5) Yes, I am a liberal, a Socialist, anti-gun, and (as far as Christians can see) an atheist.  Fucking stop trying to convince me to be otherwise.   And if you feed me a line of conservative, plutocratic, pro-gun, and Christian shit, expect that I will call you on it as surely as I make the Jehovah's Witnesses sorry they ever walked up to my door and tried to convert me.  Let's make a deal.  You don't try to convince me to believe any of your crap, and I will do likewise. 
6) I am not an elitist just because you can't understand half the words I say.  I'm not going to debase my lexicon.  Fucking find out what those words mean yourselves.  You don't even have to crack open a book.  Just fucking google it.
7) I am not going to fucking clean up my language.  As Mark Twain said, "There is some comfort to swearing ...a comfort denied even to prayer."