Shaun Industry™

I have a new comedy series I'm starting that consists of a short, fake, news-style story just for fun, called This Just In... Check out my blog for more details and tell a friend, y'all!

So, whaddya think of my header? Not bad for someone that sucks at Photoshop, eh?

Here’s a transcript of the recent interview I did for SCENE magazine.

An Industrial-Sized Dose of Shaun Industry

From SCENE Underground Magazine, Written By Mike Nguyen

When I asked Blaine how I would know who Shaun Industry was when he met me at the coffee shop today, Blaine said, “Oh, you’ll know him. Just look for the guy that looks like Pete Wentz with green eyes.” That definitely had my interest – a cute gay writer with awesome taste in music? Sign me up!

I arrived about fifteen minutes early to Little City on Congress and sat toward the front waiting for Shaun to show. This particular coffee shop is known for its hip, trendy and often gay crowd. I was checking out the hot little barista when I spotted a handsome guy with a green cap on his way to the bar. He was wearing a lime green Trailer polo and ripped jeans. His green eyes were shining emerald, complimented by his shirt. I thought, could this be the infamous Shaun Industry? Then, he smiled. It was a smile I believed to be patented by Pete Wentz himself and I knew that this must be “the Industry.”

I waved him over and he brought his mocha, decaffeinated latte and sat down. After the introduction, Shaun went straight to business with the interview.

SI: Well, I guess it must be a slow news day for Blaine to want you to interview me. (laughs)

MN: Not at all! Blaine and some of the other guys talk about you all the time. He did warn me that you are painfully sarcastic, though.

SI: ME? NEVER!

MN: Blaine also mentioned that you look a lot like Pete Wentz.

SI: Yeah, I’ve gotten that a lot. I was in LA not too long ago and was greeted by a crowd of screaming teenage girls. At first, I thought that somehow they knew who I was, but I was confused. Then one of them screamed, “I love you, Pete” and I knew what was going on. Frankly, I wonder how many people pay attention – firstly, I have no tattoos and Pete has two sleeves. Secondly, Wentz is pretty short and I’m 6’1”.

MN: Well, there is a major resemblance in the face.

SI: It’s the teeth and the smile.

MN: There’s a rumor that you’re related to him going around locally.

SI: Is there? Well, I haven’t heard it.

MN: There’s something you aren’t telling me.

SI: No. (smiles) See, that’s the first rule of self-promotion: don’t deny any rumor, just remain silent. (laughs)

MN: There’re rules about that sort of thing?

SI: Oh yeah, I’m writing a blog about it soon. You’ll have to look for it online; you know, like take a time machine to the early nineties when Al Gore invented the Internet.

MN: Hey, buddy!

I prod him a bit for his jibe.

SI: Sorry, sorry. Next question.

MN: So, are you ready for Internet celebrity?

SI: (laughs) No, no, I have no delusions of grandeur. I mean, the Internet is a media outlet, for sure, but all I’m trying to do is get my voice heard. I’m doing a lot of work now and collaborating on a lot of projects and I just really want to reach as many people as I can. Speaking of which, when is SCENE getting a web site?

MN: We’re not getting one. There’s a big split in philosophy between some of the guys working on the magazine about whether or not we should go online, but the bulk just want to stay ‘underground.’

SI: Yeah, I know… but what about a Myspace page?

MN: Oh, Myspace is way too mainstream. They’re owned by the big ‘M’ now!

SI: McDonalds?

Shaun gives me a clever little smirk.

MN: (laughs) No, Microsoft.

SI: Oh, ‘Micro-slut’! Well, are you going to have to type this all up and telegraph it to the future?

MN: (laughs) No, I’ll type it up and send it to the editorial desk.

SI: And where’s that, 1984?

MN: Okay, back to your web presence…

SI: Okay, back to that.

MN: What do you think of some of the other weblebrities out there: Matthew Lush, Jeffery Star, Perez Hilton, Chris Crocker, etcetera?

SI: I’ve haven’t met any of them yet, so I really haven’t formed an opinion. They seem to all be doing what they want to do and I really wish them the best.

MN: Oh, come on, you can dish a little!

SI: There’s really nothing to dish. I mean, I don’t agree with the message or persona of every web-queer, but I’m not going to dish anyone in print – I’ve read my James St. James.

MN: At least, can you tell me what you think of this web-war between Matthew Lush and Jeffery Star?

SI: I heard about that. All I can really say is that the web’s a lot like alcohol: it subtracts a good decade or so off some peoples’ maturity level, plus they are both really young… I think Matthew’s heart is in the right place most of time, but his ideals aren’t really all that realistic. And, well, you can’t shove your ideals down everyone’s throat. The most you can do is encourage and inspire people to be better.

MN: So, what are you working on now?

SI: A lot! Really, I’m having a great time. I’m working on a graphic novel with an unbelievable artist named Ben Beaty, called Lucid:Ragnarok and I’m working on my novel, A Million Ways To Be Cruel and my blog, of course. I’ve also been approached about adapting a one-act play I wrote for a young-adult audience in a book format.

MN: So, I know what A Million Ways… is about, but tell me about Lucid.

SI: Most of it is pretty hush-hush at the moment, but basically it’s about an epic battle between ancient gods that are, in fact, living dreams.

MN: Sounds awesome! When’s it due out?

SI: Well, soon, hopefully. I was actually working on it with another artist who had some personal troubles and had to leave the project. But Ben is onboard now and I couldn’t be happier with the way things are going.

MN: Wow, you’re doing a lot! So what’s next for “the Industry.”

SI: Well, a friend of mine suggested that I make some T-shirts with some quotes from my writing on them.

MN: Ah, so could a clothing line be in order?

SI: It’s a possibility. I’ve always wanted an underwear line. I love underwear!

Shaun gets up at this point and shows me his underwear – a cute red boxer-brief with drawings of a cartoon turtle.

MN: You’re not too shy, I see.

SI: I KNOW! I used to be really shy. It was hard to talk to new people or even look them in the eye. That’s one of the really great things about reinventing yourself: you get to define who you’ll be and you don’t feel obligated to act any certain way. Really, it’s been a great experience for me.

At that point, we decided to end our interview. The story? Shaun Industry is a class-act… with a cute butt! I snuck a little peek as he was leaving and I’m alright with that.

Well, the interview went well last night. I still can't believe that SCENE has no web presence at all! Holy crap, Batman, even my Grandmother has e-mail! Mike, the interviewer, just kept telling me that they're "an underground thing" and didn't want to be "mainstream". How is owning a website mainstream? Is everyone there wearing foil hats to work to avoid the CIA from reading their brainwaves? Oh well, I guess I'll drop it. The thing is, I like to understand things and when I don't it bugs the living cabbage patch outta me.

Mike said he'll e-mail me a copy to post when he finishes typing it up - another contradiction... They'll type something up on a computer and e-mail it, but they won't post it online? I guess they just have to do everything with a little added thorn for realism - takin' that bold step toward the early nineties.

Alright, I'm over it. So over it. Moving on now...

I went on a shopping spree this morning online. You know what? Why are all the coolest graphic Tees made only for women? I don't get it! I mean, I'm probably going to make somebody some money when I say this and they steal the idea, but a company could make some greenbacks by printing typical women's Tees in men's fits and sizes.

For example, I really want this Blondie Tee:

And it's not just gay men that would buy it! I know plenty of metros who would rock a Blondie Tee.

Then I get uber pissed when I see that there is a super-dope Wonder Woman Tee, also only for ladies.

But I did get a coolio Wonder Woman Belt Buckle.

And I also got, my favorite ('cause I love the color green and Kyle Rainer was drawn effin hot!), a Green Lantern Tee.

I also love Astro Boy, so I got this one too:

You know what folks? I have some awesome friends - online and off! I know so many wonderful and talented people, it's amazing to think how blessed I am to know you all. Thank you for your support!!!

In other news, Blaine has asked me to do a full interview with one of his reporters for SCENE. It must be a SLOW news day. Oh, well, it sounds like fun - even if they are just underground and have a very limited distribution, it's still cool to be asked.

Not that I don't like Gwenith, but I think they should get Anne Heche to play Pepper in the next Iron Man, just to add to the crazy-things-we've-done-while-under-the-influence factor.

The cost of food is soaring due to the overwhelming demand placed on production by China and India. In fact, just about every commodity is subject to the recent high demand, limited supply and Americans are further crunched by inflation and the weak dollar. So, I’ve developed this not-so-modest proposal: let’s eat people.

 

 

Jonathan Swift Flakes ‘O Human now has real Irish Baby Marshmallows! Swift Flakes are PEOPLE – delicious people!

 

 

 Mikey doesn’t like it, because it’s made of Mikey’s Mommie.

 

Don’t get into a tizzy PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals?), Kentucky Fried Human only serves free range people.

 

 It’s so good you’ll lick other peoples' fingers!

 

And that’s not all! Did you know that urine can be recycled by the body up to three times? That’s right - you can drink your own urine. With all the fresh water shortages we are sure to encounter in the future, you’re gonna need to drink something.

 

 

We’re here in this posh New York suburb and we’ve replaced little Cindy’s lemonade with urine. Will little Tina be able to taste the difference? Let’s watch!

How To Bake A Savory Savior

(A Play In One Act)

by

Shaun Industry

Lights up. We open on a dimly lit bedroom, sparsely decorated. The room is almost without cheer and certainly without charm. We happen upon Salvador slumping, saggy-shouldered and bent-backed on his bed. Shadows taunt him on the stage while he remains montionless. His breathing is steady and rhythmic – it’s the only sign of life.

Archivist

Excerpt from the Dade County Newletter.

Salvador

On July 4th, 1998, Maria Conception Reyes past away of a cancer related illness leaving behind her parents Teresa and Julio Cuevas (estranged), her husband Anthony Renaldo Reyes, and her son Salvador (fifteen).

Archvist

Journal of Salvador Reyes, October 2, 1996.

Salvador

Mi madre, Maria, was a child of Christ. She sang songs about the virgin, about the love of Christ, about Saint Teresa and Miguel and Juan. Her heart was pregnant with fire, a devotion that burned in her eyes. She lit candles and prayed every night for a better life for her family. Then when she was sixteeen, Christ fufilled her greatest prayer. Her family came to America on June 12th, 1983. None of the family spoke even a word of English, and only Maria’s back was unbroken by the heavy life of Mexico. Maria was the sole source of income for the underpriviledged family of five immigrants. She worked nights at the Spanish market, picking up a word or two of English while sacking groceries for the market’s abuelitas. She spent her days taking English classes at the Hispanic Community Center, where she met her first love Patrick and my father, Francisco. Patrick was a volunteer at the center, a graduate student at the local university, and my mother’s tutor. He was Irish. He was tall, with wavy brown hair, and hazel eyes... he was pale perfection. As mi madre described him: ‘white gold.’ Mama speaks of him fondly and often. The way she speaks, even I am in love with him. She carries a picture of him in her handbag and kisses it every night before she goes to sleep. He was going to be her salvation; he was going to be her life. She doesn’t talk much about the last night of her classes though. I know only that, as she was cutting her way through the icy wind of that autumn night, Francisco offered her a ride. Patrick refused to see her afterward. My mother refused to pray. So cold was that night that the fire in her heart soon leapt to her womb. She gave birth to fire: conception.

Again the lights go down and we see only Salvador’s shadow menacing the room. The air is arctic and the feeling is distressing. We see this shadow remove a revolver from underneath the pillow. Salvador spins the chamber of the gun after locking it; a sharp click follows. He raises the the revolver to his temple. His index finger fidgets on the trigger. His resolve builds and thought becomes action. When the hammer strikes, there is no resulting spark. The corresponding chamber does not house a bullet. The remaining light left on stage is lowered, quivering as darkness envelopes the room.

(Lights up)

SALVADOR (as MARIA) 

A soft Mexican accent now marks Salvador’s speech.

Salvador, Salvador... please wake up, hijo! Please! We can’t stay here. you have to come with me, hijo. Papa won’t let us stay. Please, Salvador! You have to come with me. Antonio is waiting for us. He will let us be with him. We can’t stay here. We can’t stay. They forbid it. They will not talk to me. Papa... papa called me a puta! I am not a whore! I am not... What? Salvador, I am not! Do not believe your abuelo! You... you... (Reluctant and defeated, Salvador (as Maria) halts his frantic persuasion and lets his head fall to the floor. His anger swells suddenly and he is simmering with rage, he holds his hand high above him and delivers a blow to what would be Salvador’s face.) Basta! You would be borned Salvador. You would be... It was not... not free... choice, not my choice to sleep with Francisco. Don’t ever say that again. (Salvador (as Maria) swats at the bed to halt the imaginary writhing of Salvador. As his composure returns, his hand covers his face, covering his regret. He scans the room and sits at the corner of the bed. He takes a glance back at Salvador. Shaken, he continues.) Par... pardon, Salvador. I am sorry. (pause) Salvador, you know, when you was a baby, you was really small. Los medicos said you was gonna die, they say you was just born too early. (smiling) I think it was the last time you ever gonna be early, hijo. (nevously laughs). You had little feet and little toes. You just look and look around you. It like you owned the world. It like you give life to me. You was so small, so helpless. You would be so quiet, but the other babies: they cry and cry, but no you. I think you never cry. Mi madre thought you was born without a soul. She think all kids born in America have no soul. I know better, hijo. You have fire, hijo. You have a soul. (Catching a glimpse of Salvador’s eyes, a shiver tickes Salvador (as Maria)’s spine. He trembles in a fearful motion. Salvador (as Maria) remembers his purpose, collects himself and rises from the bed.) We have to go now. In the morning Papa will be awake to watch us leave. I try to say goodbye, but that isn’t what he want. You think I plan this? You think I want to leave? You think I ever want to leave, hijo? I don’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice, but I want you. You are the only thing I want! Tu eres un milagro maravilloso! I didn’t want to sleep with Francisco, he force me. After all he took from me, he gave you to me. Tu eres un milagro! (another dramatic switch) Antonio needed money, Salvador. Tu abeulo called me a puta, no Antonio. He likes you a lot Salvador. Come with me, please.

The frantic pace slows. A gruff voice calls from outside.

Man

Maria! (pauses) Maria! (louder)

Slavador (as Maria) turns to look at the door, then turns back to look at his mother’s son. He crosses toward the bed and plants an imaginary kiss on what would have been his own forehead. Lost in the moment, we catch a glimpse of the real Salvador as he brings his hand to his head in remembrance of the gentle moment.

Salvador (as Maria)

Te amo, hijo.

He stops for a moment. He rushes toward, and out the door. Door slam.

Blackout.

Another slam.

Salvador

Mama, I want to go with you mama.

Again we see the shadow of Salvador on the stage. The revolver is becoming more comfortable in his hand.

Archivist

Argument of the deputy prosecutor Jonathan Weeks of Dade County, December 17th, 1999.

Salvador

It is the confession of these two juveniles that on the night of November 25th, they did unlawfully enter the courtyard of Saint Francis Chrurch. It is also their confession, your Honor, that they did take - with intent to deface -the statue of the baby Jesus from his manger display area. This case is cut and dry, your honor. The only thing left is the sentencing. We cannot allow such blasphemous acts of brutality towards a public display of church property to go unpunished, even if two juveniles commit such a crime. It is disturbing that one of these boys is of the Jewish faith. It is even further disturbing that one of the perpetrators is a Catholic himself. This act is beyond criminal, it is sociopathic (pause) No, your honor, I do not believe I am going overboard. I recommend that these two boys be placed under psychological observation.

Archivist

Sentence delivered by the Honorable Harrison Parks, 417th Presinct Judge

Salvador

Due to the age of the defendants, and in light of their confessions, I hereby order Salvador Reyes and David Gold be placed under immediate house arrest for a period of three months, followed by six months of probation. Furthermore, I order both guilty parties to be subject to psychiatric observation. The boys are to have no contact with each other during the duration of their sentence. This hearing is adjourned.

He pauses for a moment, and then loads another bullet. The chamber spins in a dance of terror. Salvador uses he temple as a ledge for the barrel. Another click follow, still no spark - no fire. Lights down.

Lights up. We see Salvador with a tie around his neck, over his T-shirt. His posture is much improved.

Salvador (as Dr. Rich)

Alright Sal, I apologize for the wait. I am pretty new to this so, let’s just cut right to the chase, shall we? I am concerned Sal; the court is concerned. You were found guilty of some pretty serious crimes for a boy your age: theft, destruction of private property, vandalism. This is hardly the sort of act I would expect out of an honor student. Even the brightest of young people sometimes lose their way, or are led astray. Is that what happened to you Sal? did you lose your way, or did someone lead you astray? (pause, waiting for a response that clearly doesn’t come) You’re not talking to me Sal. That is your choice, but remeber that is what we are talking about here: choices. You do have choices, don’t you Sal? (pause) That’s alright Sal. You don’t want to talk to me? You can nod your head, be monosyllabic, but I am paid to do a job here. I’m here to find out what has gone wrong in your life, as of late. (beat) Well, obviously something has gone wrong Sal. People who are doing well don’t steal from chuch courtyards, or burn holy icons. What kind of action was this Sal? Burning the baby Jesus in a gas oven? You have to help me on this one. Why would you do such a thing? (pause, irritated) Sal, you can beat whatever it is that is bothering you; you just have to focus in on what is right. Now don’t tell me you think what you did was right. (annoyed, but still without any significant loss of control) Don’t turn away from me. I didn’t come here to talk to myself. You’re still not talking to me Sal. Well, then I will talk to you. Salvador, I live by that church. I just moved there a week before you and your friend decided to terrorize my new neighborhood. My children play in that courtyard. What can I tell them when they want to go see the nativity scene they helped to set-up? Should I tell them that some very disturbed young men saw fit to put the baby Jesus in a gas oven to exact some sort of derranged vengance on life, or religion, or death? That is what this is about, isn’t it Slavador? You’re mad about your mother’s death. You have that right. You have every right to be mad at whoever you want. But you don’t have the right to take away the rights of others. You don’t have the right to put God on trial! Keeping silent isn’t helping anyone Salvador. I know what it is like to lose a loved one. You feel trapped, you feel helpless, you feel like no one and nothing around you is permanent. You think that someday, you are going to lose everything and everyone. You feel like a martyr. You’re willing to turn to anything or anyone who will make you feel alive again. Am I right Salvador? I am, aren’t I? I am here Salvador. I am here, and you can talk to me. I can help you.

Salvador (as Dr. Rich) pulls his chair close to Salvador’s own. The distance between them is no longer comfortable and Salvador (as Dr.Rich) reaches a hand out to touch upon the arm of the chair and the hand of the invisable Salvador. As he speaks, he moves his hand from the arm of the chair to place it on Salvador’s knee. Salvador (as Dr. Rich) begins to pull the conversation away from the saftey of before.

Who was the boy you stole the staute with? A boy from school? A Neighbor? Who? (pause) And was it this David’s idea to take the statue, or yours? You can tell me, Sal. We are going to keep our session completely confidential. (pause) It was your idea then? But why? (pause) Why did David want to do that Sal? Why did David what to disfigure the statue? (pause) I am confused as to what Joan of Arc had to do with this; I thought that David was Jewish. (pause) That is very interesting, Sal. Do you think his interest in saints is somehow connected to you being Catholic? Sal, do you think that this David is attracted to you? (pause) I don’t see why not Sal, you are a very handsome boy. (lecherous now) Are you attracted to David? Are you attracted to boys? (pause) Sal, it is alright to be attracted to other boys. (Salvador (as Dr. Rich) continues prudently, careful to conceal his motive) I am attracted to you, for instance. There is nothing wrong with being physically attracted to another human being - it’s healthy. It is not healthy, however, to get caught up with someone who does you harm. Do you understand Sal? (standing behind Salvador’s chair, Salvador (as Dr. Rich) begins to massage invisable shoulders) I know that this is difficult for you. You and David must have been pretty close to risk this kind of punishment. Tell me Salvador, (Salvador (as Dr. Rich) begins to move his hands lower to Salvador’s chest) has David ever kissed you? I want to kiss you. (leans in) You know Sal, I could make things a lot easier for you. I like things to be nice for my friends. You are my friend, right Sal? I thought so. In exchange sometimes my friends make things nice for me. (Salvador (as Dr. Rich) unzips his pants, pulling a grasping hand toward his crotch.) Oh, that’s a good boy. That is a very good boy.

Lights down. Salvador has a bullet ready. He spins the chamber. He swallows the barrel of the gun. Salvador jerks the trigger yet again, fruitlessly.

Lights up.


Archivist

Journal of Salvador Reyes, October 3rd, 1999

Salvador

There’s a new boy in class. His name is David, and he is beautiful. He doesn’t look like any other beautiful boy I have ever seen. He looks nothing like Juan or Jacob, but he is beautiful. His skin is pale, and his nose is kinda long. His black hair is glossy and curled in ringlets that hang over his forehead, and occasionally fall over his eyes. When Ms. Baker introduced him to the class she made it a point to mention that David’s family is Jewish. I am not entirely sure what Jews believe. My foster parents say that Jews don’t believe in America or Jesus. If you ask me, I don’t think that Jesus believes much in America. He wears a Jewish star around his neck. I was embarrassed, but he looked so lonely at lunch today that I asked him what the star was called. He laughed and tugged at the silver. He said it was the “Star of David.” David’s star.

David and Salvador have just returned from their pillage of the church courtyard. They have burned the statue to a nice crisp and are relaxing from the earlier strain. They are anything but remorseful.

Salvador (as David)

I can’t believe is Salvador, I have never even been to a church before. If my father ever finds out, he’ll disown me. Stealing is one thing, but blasphemy is a whole ‘nother can of worms. (laughs) Man, it melted quick! So much for my theory: I guess even holy things can burn. Even Joan of Arc burned in the end. Do you know she united the entire kingdom of France. She made a man a king. I guess she was like (singing badly) “the yellow rose of Texas.” Except of course, Joan actually fought... with a sword. (pause) Oi, listen to me! I guess I’m not much of a Jew after all. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I mean, I like hotdogs, real hotdogs, not that Hebrew National shit. Pork: it’s the food of kings... and lumberjacks, bowling alley workers, baseball players, and dont forget the destitute. (laughs) (Salvador (as David) stops in preponderance of a question) It wasn’t always cooked right, a lot of people died from instestinal parasites in the old days. Yeah, I guess it doesn’t make a lot of sense nowadays. My mom always says: “if it made sense, it wouldn’t be a religion.” I think that mom doesn’t think a lot of God. Oh, she is Jewish to the core, but she barely listens when the Rabbis speak. I guess that it doesn’t really matter what people say. Words are just words. The Bible, the Torah: just words. Why do people think that just because something was written a long time ago that it’s automatically filled with truth, or wisdom, or some sort of mysterious knowledge from a lost sage like Solomon? (beat) Hey, come to think of it, we are a lot like Solomon, you and I. Except we decided to burn the damn baby instead of cutting it in half. Who would suggest cutting a REAL baby in half, anyways? That’s a lot like Marry Poppins making the kids dance on rooftops. Or those damn Von Trapp’s making their kids sing to Nazis. There’s a fine line between entertainment and child abuse. (pause) Yeah, you like it? Mom made me cut it shorter in the back then last time. I used to have really long hair in the back before my friend at my old school, Rosalie Moravik, told my I had a Jewish mullet. No really! Wanna see? (Salvador (as David) produces a wallet from his back pocket and hands it to the left) This is my old school ID. Look, look at the curls popping over my shirt collar. That... that... is a friend of mine from Pickett. He... uh... he was just a friend. I don’t know why I drew the heart over his face. I guess I just miss him is all. (Salvador (as David) takes a pensive glance to his left, then a sorrowful look at the picture in the wallet.) Stop looking at you hands, they’re not red! No one could have seen us. The light was probably just someone getting a glass of milk before bed. Someone new must have moved in. I saw a lot of boxes stacked outside and a moving van out front. I think I’ve seen that car somewhere else though, the medical park maybe. Anyway, they were probably too tired to care. (Unable to contain the emotions about to overflow, Salvador (as David) continues almost breathlessly) I... Iike you... a lot, Salvador. (pausing) You are so cute!

Salvador (as David) bows forward in a tender, uncertain attempt to steal just one kiss. He inhales the scent of the scene, and then jumps at the opportunity. For one moment, Salvador is locked in the remembrance of that fragile moment. He would, if he could, live in it forever. Startled by a motivation so monstrous in proportion to this happenstance, Salvador (as David) rockets from his place next to the imaginary Salvador and yells back at him.

Salvador (as David)

I can’t! Not again! My dad will never forgive me! I won’t go back. I won’t go back to see another damn psychiatrist. I won’t! (Salvador (as David) dissolves from the scene and leave Salvador with a deadly resolve.)

Lights down.

Lights up. There is just enought light to see Salvador in the beginning. Slowly, more and more light pours in, until we spy Salvador, gun in hand and pointed to his head. He spins the chamber one last time.

Salvador

This is the decision. Uncertainty is a decision, you see. He asked me if I had a choice! That goddamn child molester asked me if I had choices in life. All choices in this life have the same possibilities: freedom, boredom, life, or death. Choices and probabilities. Coincidences and certainties. (to audience) Can I ask you something? What are you afraid of? Nudity? Public Speaking? Love? Death? Life? Living death? Are you afraid to stop dreaming? Are you afraid to leave an American dream (hurriedly) I don’t have answers! (frustrated) For every question, I only have another question; until the last question...

With a renewed, yet nervous vigor, Salvador returns the gun to its place at the side of his brow. Darkness rushes over his body and the audience. In the darkness, the air freezes to a solid mass. When the startling effect begins to drop, we hear a shot ring out. Thought has become action.

There is silence on the stage for a few agonizing moments. Then, over the span of seconds, a small sound begins to nest in our ears. It is the sound of a ringing phone. It becomes clearer, moment by moment until a voice answers. In the complete darkness, the drama continues.

David

Hello?

Salvador

David? David, is that you?

David

Salvador? I thought that we couldn’t talk anymore? We shouldn’t be talking.

Salvador

Our sentence is almost up. Besides, I’m in the hospital, no one can could possibly know I am talking to you now.

David

I heard that you tried to... hurt yourself? Are you alright, Salvador?

Salvador

I think so. Trick of fate, really. The bullet got stuck in the barrel, created a small explosion. I have some powder burns, a light concussion maybe. I’ll be fine.

David

I’m glad. I am so sorry for what I said. God, I wish I could see you now. Hey Salvador? I really miss you

END.

So, uhmmm... If I have a message, why does it say I don't. Huh?

 

I've decided I'm buy-sexual: buy me something pretty and I'll get real sexual!

People who read my journal regularly know just how much I love exposing – myself – NO, no, I mean exposing people to new things. The greatest thing about the Internet is its ability to connect people to new ideas, new artists, new musicians, new writers and new personalities that they might not otherwise have known. So, here’s a list to give you a taste of people you’ll like if you dig the work of some of the more well-known artists.

 

If you like Bjork, then you’ll love Venus Hum.

 

Photo Credit: Unknown, Courtesy of Venus Hum Myspace

  

Like Bjork, Venus Hum’s sound is unique, entrancing and intriguing as a peek into the mind of an autistic savant. With sounds as vibrant as colors, lyrics that form vivid word-pictures and a tongue-in-cheek satirical song writing technique that will leave their songs to vibrate with your soul, Venus hum is sure to delight you for hours on end. For your more metaphysical moods, try Humming Birds from Venus Hum’s first album. If you want something smart and dancey with industrial flair (complete with the sounds of closing doors, bubbling champagne, sipping, party chatter, and lilting laughs), check Pink Champagne.

 

 

If you like David Sedaris, then you’ll love Michael Downing's Breakfast with Scot.

 

Downing’s Breakfast with Scot was recently made into a feature film, but one can easily assume that no film could translate Downing’s literary wit and panache. With clever one-liners like “… it was an ambidextrous cry for help for help” and “she spent her humor on her shoes”, Downing’s Breakfast will have you LOLing in no time. Meanwhile, Downing’s protagonist, Ed, will work his way into your heart with his totally open and often sarcastic honesty and his enduring analysis of the beautiful, yet imperfect nature of our society as seen through the eyes of its outcasts. Breakfast’s message is one of acceptance, because nobody fits in perfectly all time.

 

Here's a trailer for the 2007 movie adaptation.

 

 

If you like Junior Vasquez, then you’ll love The Misshapes.

 

Photo Credit: Unknown, Courtesy of The Misshapes Myspace

 

A trio of uber-hip DJs from the NYC, The Misshapes have crashed onto the scene as one of the coolest music making machines to reinvent the club/house sound. In only a few short years after their formation The Misshapes are already in high demand from clubs starting in their native NYC, to old London and even the hipster capitol of the world, my beloved Austin. Of course, you all know that I’m partial to their mix of Shorti by V.I.P with Pink Enemy, but they have also done a rockin’ remix of Madonna’s Jump.

 

 

If you liked The X-Files, then you’ll love Torchwood.

 

 

Photo Credit: Unknown, Courtesy of Wikipedia Entry - Torchwood

 

Okay, so the show’s technically sci-fi, but truly there’s only a little bit of science that is pushed aside easily for creativity, humor and – most importantly – sex. Don’t just think it’s the straight boys and girls getting all the action here. Captain Jack, a former time-traveler from the future who just so happens to be immortal, is a notorious flirt with an eye for girls and boys. One of the show’s most popular side-plots is a semi-secret love affair between Jack and Torchwood’s honorary butler, Ianto Jones. In the first series, the techie of the group, Toshiko, is involved in a lesbian fling with a malicious alien exile and Owen uses an alien super-pheromone to bed a woman and her boyfriend. As for the show’s immense popularity, it can be explained in-part by the show’s executive producer, Russell T. Davies who masterminded the Doctor Who comeback and the other part to the writers of fan fiction! Yes, that’s right, the show's producers have admitted to reading and incorporating some of the most popular themes of fan fiction into the show, including the show’s now notorious romantic/sexual subplots.

One can never have too many of either.     

                                                      

Yes, the picture is a shoe for prostitutes - it has a GPS system, an audible alarm and a panic button to alert emergency agencies nearby.

I'm not sure when or why I took this picture. It just seemed rather harmonious in a way - very wabi-sabi. I think it's a little ironic that the white cup is from a place called Zen.

Just thought I'd share.

Sorry, About.com, but I don't think bigger man-boobies is gonna give you a washboard tummy.

 

He can fire a gun without pulling the trigger! Observe:

Ein Cop. Eine Stadt. Eine Sorcerer.

Burn him! He's a WITCH!

Sorry, I don't know the German for sorcerer.

Look, so I used some slurs in a poem about calling people names. I was not attempting in any way to advocate hate speech. In fact, the opposite was my intention. If the entity that chose to delete my post had ascertained the context of the poem, they would have seen that the intention was to illustrate that those who use hate speech against others often do so as a defense mechanism, but that doesn't make it right.

We can't just start censoring things because we don't like one or two words. I'm a writer; I love words! What we have to realize, as a society, is that words are simply tools. They have no intentions of their own. The only good or evil lies within the heart of the writer or speaker. Even nasty, hateful little words can be used for good. Censoring words we don't like may seem like a good idea, until everyone in the world begins to delete every word from every language and we have no more speeches, no more books, no more plays or movies, no more media at all...

Here's the post and the poem:

I'm not much of a poet, but after recently getting in an disagreement over my use of the word 'queer' - for those that don't know, the word 'queer' is used in many gay groups as an all-encompassing term for alternate sexualities: gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, asexual and transsexual - I was inspired to write this poem about how people that are hurt use hurtful words against others.

Word Weaponry

 

I couldn’t finish my homework

So my Dad came in and hit me last night

A Jewish girl named Raquel noticed the scars

So I called her a kike.

 

Johnny’s such a jerk

This morning, in gym class, he called me an asswipe

I hate being taunted on the court

So I called his girlfriend a dyke.

 

Mike always sits so close to me in History

It’s just a mystery

Today, when he walked by, he kicked my bag

So I called him fag.

 

Michelle won’t go out to the dance with me

She’s all over my buddy Skip and it’s so hard for me to see

Yesterday, Mrs. Palmer saw me crying and watched my shoulders sag

So I called her a stupid old hag.

 

Words can be such a wonderful thing

Without them we could talk, or write, or sing

But when we use them as weapons in a fight

Everyone’s wrong and no one’s right.

I've only been on Buzznet for a few days now and I've gotta say that the journal featues are so much better than Myspace. All the Myspace journals look alike - dull blue and grey Windows riffs. They've got no personality and you really can't show off your style like you can with Buzznet. Not to mention, no one reads Myspace blogs, mostly because they are so poorly written and all "what-I-had-for-lunch" diaries. Adding photos and videos to your posts is so much easier than Myspace (it always tends to mangle my HTML) and it's even easier than LiveJournal - which is pretty much a ghost town now that the only ones left are the die-hard originals. I kept two journals there for a total of about five years - I deleted my old one once I decided to reinvent myself and my personal style - and I'm thinking of phasing-out my newest one. A lot of my old LJ friends are just shipping Twitters and writing no real posts and most of the others don't check or update their journals very often at all.

I wish blogging would make a come back. I have a feeling that it very well may do just that shortly with all the happenings in the world, the economy, the war in Iraq, etc. What we need is a brilliant idea to revolutionize blogging forever, to change the way we think about online journaling. Where's a revolutionary when you need one, eh?

According to Buzznet, I should meet myself(?) Huh? I'm not sure, but I think that's still illegal in some states.

I’ve always been the curious, courageous explorer-type. I’m always in shock when people don’t want to try something new: a new type of food, a new book, a new band, etc. Life IS a banquet after all and there are some people out there doing some amazing sh#t, y’all! In that spirit, I bring you a list of ten people (bands, writers, photographers and generally fabulous personalities) that you probably don’t know, but you should.

 

      V.I.P (Party Boys)

 

I tried to like Pansy Division, I really did. The problem was that the songs were all too obvious. Yes, some of the coolest artists can make-up for bad songwriting with a good sound, solid vocals and a steady beat, but Pansy Division just lacks all of that in my eyes ears. My ex-boyfriend loved PD, so every time he put one of their CDs on I had to find somewhere else to be: hmmm… no trash to take out? Let me make some – I’ve been meaning to get started on my life-sized Madonna statue made entirely out of popsicle sticks.

 

These rap all-stars with a Lil' Kim beat, a Missy Elliot hip-hop jive are coming ya with an always fabulous queer slant.V.I.P. is the real Feminem with their uncommon rhyming raps – and, as my name suggests, you should know how much I love industrial – sound that makes you want to dance till you just can’t dance no more. If you've ever wondered what a queer Beastie Boys would sound like, check out the electrotastic Misshapes mix of Shorti.

 

 

Photo Credit: Tyler Goosey, Courtesy of Chris Yarber Myspace   

 

Chris Yarber

 

With a sound like an audio-orgasm (an eargasm, if you will) Chris Yarber’s music will instantly conjure images of Duran Duran and Depech Mode. His deep vocals set on top of a steady, pulse-pounding melody will get your head bobbing and your feet moving. Let’s face it, sometimes the mood calls for total honesty, no matter how dark and Yarber’s track, A Reason To Lust is perfect for that emo-vampire goth orgy you’ve been planning.

 

Photo Credit: Unknown, Courtesy of Amazon.com   

     

    Meg Hentges

 

Brompton’s Cocktail, Hentges' 1998 album may be ten years old, but it was light years ahead of its time with fancy keyboard work, strong beats and queer-friendly (sometimes outright queer) lyrics. The first single released (This Kind Of Love) for radio play on Austin’s famous, The Next Big Thing with Andy Langer was not well received by the mostly straight audience. While many listeners agreed she had a great sound (something akin to the industrial electropop DJ bands we hear out of NYC these days), they refused to swallow and chose to spit out the new-New Wave Hentges style.

 

But, if you have an open mind, you’ll love the retro sound of Hentges’ Brompton’s Cocktail. ‘Cause "girl and girl and boy and boy and girl and boy are workin’!"

 

Photo Credit: Jeffery Walls, Courtesy of MattildaBersteinSycamore.com and The Austin Chronicle  

 

    Matt Berstein-Sycamore

 

Matt isn’t your ordinary ‘mo – he’s been an advocate for the anti-assimilation camp among us new ‘radical fairies’ for a while now, just trying to keep us all from becoming dollar signs in the eyes of big-wig corporate types that are willing to market and sell to the gay community, but not willing to do anything else to support us.

 

His partially-autobiographical novel, Pulling Taffy, explores the non-assimilation stance in the queer community, the dangers of being a sex worker and the heartbreaking search for a place to call home. He's also released several other compilations and anthologies, including: That’s Revolting: Queer Strategies For Resisting Assimilation, Nobody Passes: Rejecting the Rules of Gender and Conformity and Dangerous Families: Queer Writing on Surviving.

 

Photo Credit: Unknown, Courtesy of Gabe Lopez Myspace   

 

     Gabe Lopez

 

So you’re looking for a little more of a pop rather than the punk, the electro, the techno and the industrial, huh? I’ve got the solution for you with Gabe Lopez and his Indie-rocker tunes. Lopez has written songs for American Idol alum Jim Verraros and his skill with writing a catchy little song shows. His sound is mellow and his pitch is always perfect. Imagine that: a gay man that can write songs and sing them in the correct key! Okay, so there are some of them out there, but they can be few and far between. My favorite track? Check out Red Queen and strut your stuff, roughcuff!

 

       Photo Credit: Michael Zavus, Courtesy of IceCreamTruck Myspace   

 

IceCreamTruck

 

He’s like ice cream on hot summer day, that much is evident, but this humpy guy is not just eye-candy, he’s a talented photographer and great philosopher with a terrific message for empowering the queer community. He’s launching a new GLBT dating website, GetSteady.com: Get Ready To Get Steady!

 

Photo Credit: Anonymous, Courtesy of SOR Myspace   

 

    Streets of Rage

 

I know you, you need a little bubblegum in your punk. If you think Ween meets Nada Surf with a little bit of a HelloandGoodbye highschool confessional feel, you've got SOR.

 

They’re like Fall Out Boy with a little more street cred. Check out their track, Let’s Flip A Coin for a dancey little ditty about unrequited teenage love and spin around your room humming the song till the ‘rents tell you to stop. You can download their EP free off their Myspace page.

 

Photo Credit: Jorgey, Courtesy of Mitchell's Myspace

 

    Mitchell and OutWithMe.com

 

When I was in high school, I remember how all the kids would come back from long weekends with story after story of their drunken debauchery. Of course, you would never believe them about what a good time they'd had. No mater how good they said it was, you knew you could top it. You needed the photographic evidence. Like magic, photos of uber-cool scensters, hipsters and emos came pouring out of their backpacks and purses.

 

Mitchell and OutWithMe.com have capitalized on this overwhelming need to make the scene and be seen with candid event photography helping to put Austin on top of the list of tragihip world destinations. And why not? Austin's the live music capitol of the world, after all. Where there’s music, there are the music makers and their legions of inspired fans. So go and check the guylinered prettyboys with foppish hair and the made-up mollies' kissy-faced candids.

 

Photo Credit: Anonymous, Courtesy of Leslie Cochran Myspace   

 

    Leslie Cochran

 

He’s run for mayor of Austin two times and by some fluke, he’s never won. He’s Austin’s favorite (honorary) son, a homeless advocate who now lives in a mansion and transvestite dynamo with his own magnetic “dress me” doll!  Well, sure he has a beard and it can be frightening to see him crossing Congress Avenue in high heels, or hanging out on Sixth Street in his catholic schoolgirl uniform, but he helps to Keep Austin Weird.  

 

Photo Credit: Anonymous, Courtesy of Captain Badass Myspace   

 

    Captain Badass

 

We’re in a recession here people; some superheroes can't afford a steady gym membership! So, his only power is being a total and complete badass, but you don’t want to get on his bad side, ‘cause he’s got plenty of them. He’s the original badass and an Austinite with flair.