Friday, May 9, 2008

Random Thoughts 1: Love, Love is Boring, So Much More Boring Than Hate

Okay, I haven't really had much to say lately, so for the 7 people who might actually read this blog, sorry. I have a couple good excuses: Coachella, which I talked about here, and here, and here, and then some vacation time that ended up being work time in a hotel room, and some SoCal gigs. Plus, more seriously, what the hell is the point of this thing? I set up this blog as an easier way to post some updates while I was on tour in Europe, but I've never been a fan of the "here's what I had for lunch today" blog universe, and have always restricted my real website to a) music I've made, b) gigs I have, c) press or amusing encounters resulting from my music or gigs, and d) my self-indulgent year-end best-of lists. Oh yeah, and e) adorable kittens. Then I've got the Riff to jabber about cultural products of interest (although I don't get the feeling that's really working out so well either; I know there are staff members of the Mother Jones who consider any and all arts coverage to be a waste of time for their esteemed magazine, and moreover, I feel a little bit at sea being their only real arts-and-music-focused columnist, since I can't exactly be a one-man Idolator. Well I could, but not with my schedule, and not for what they're paying me). So, what is this little blog for, exactly? Just stuff I'm thinking about? Writing practice? Linking to the Emergency Party Button? Oh, I know, howabout complaining?

I suppose there's little to complain about: I'm making money, doing fun DJ gigs, seeing the world; I've got my health (and, so my doctor says, a record-low cholesterol level--who knows how that happened, I mean, it's not like I'm shoving steak into my mouth for every meal but I'm no vegan... maybe it's all the oatmeal, scrubbing away my veins like a crack team of those Scrubbing Bubbles I used to love). But you know what bugs me? People. Humans. "Bugs" isn't the right word: Confuses, howabout. I just don't understand people. People you think are friends mock you bitterly behind your back, friends who proclaim their absolute adoration of you also do so much annoying crap you can barely stand to be around them, people take your attempts at the tiptoe-iest "I feel x, y, and z"-style expressions of disappointment as huge insults, and guys you go on dates with, and say lots of nice stuff on the dates, never call you again. Okay, sure, that last one is probably another expression of the rule I tell all my friends who date men: "Guys Say Stuff." Indeed we do, and sure, I've been as guilty as anyone in feigning interest in, I dunno, fashion or business or cats, just to try and, um, how do you say, "score." I mean, hell, I've even managed to go on dates with guys who turn out to be Republicans, and I'll pretend that doesn't make me hurl just long enough to maybe get some makeouts. But, I thought I could see through it, myself, right?

Really, I just realized I don't know how to "woo," in the gay world. I find the Neil Strauss "game" stuff fascinating, actually -- as someone who's never had a natural ability to chat people up, and stumbles horribly at small talk or official meetings, I'm attracted to the idea that there are lessons, rules, things you can practice that can at least open the door for someone to pay attention to you. Unfortunately, The Game's heterosexual focus makes it kind of inapplicable. For instance, Strauss talks about managing to snag Britney Spears' phone number after engaging her in a conversation about what he calls "Chick Crack," i.e., horoscopes and personality tests and Cosmo-style gobbledygook. Unfortunately, I just don't get the feeling that would work on most guys, even gay guys.

Then there's one of the most basic tenets of The Game: act disinterested, give backhanded compliments, be, for all intents and purposes, a bit of a jerk. Sure, I can do the jokey "yeah you're okay looking" wink-wink stuff, but I'm not sure how much farther I can take that. Say you get "in there," you get the date, you get the nookie, and you really like the guy; what next? How do you keep up the "jerk" facade without just completely losing touch? Do you have to just wait for them to call you? When can you just be yourself, and call up and say "Hey, I'd like to see you again?" Because clearly I'm doing that all wrong, since the answer is generally "sorry I'm out of town," or something. And there's no obvious signs to me that the date went horribly wrong, other than, you know, the flatulence, and the inevitable revelation of my sex-change scars.

Or is it just that no gay dudes are interested in second dates? I mean, at age 37, I'm no spring chicken, and I get the feeling that any guy out there who really wants anything more than a one-night-stand has probably already found it, so maybe by this point there just aren't any guys out there looking for, er, Lurv.

Whatever. Considering how many of my friends spend time complaining about their significant others' annoyingly pointless stories or ridiculous shirts or tendency to treat their lives like an etch-a-sketch and shake away everything when they get a little freaked out, perhaps I should be happy to be single, and as a bit of a loner (and noted curmudgeon) I usually am. But I dunno, I guess it'd be nice sometime to meet somebody I don't feel like I have to fight for/act like a jerk to so they like me/figure out what the hell.

Of course, all this could be moot, since as Pete Burns says, gay relationships don't work:

Burns, 49, who was wed to stylist Lynne Corlett for 28 years, claimed there were too much "promiscuity" in the gay community for civil partnerships to thrive. He told The Mail on Sunday he had been "optimistic" about his civil partnership, but now he says: "I learned the hard way. It's a total joke." Burns said: "I view marriage as a sacred institution. I think two men naturally are predators. Gay relationships are a commercial break, not a whole movie. The relationships I'm aware of, apart from one ... it's as though there's some kind of emotional inadequacy or narcissism, where they feel emotionally inadequate and need more validation, from either a father figure or a mirror image of themselves. I'm not condemning it, I think it needs researching and help. There's a lot of promiscuity in the gay community. I don't understand why they take that union. How low is their self-esteem? One's on Hampstead Heath meeting men, the other one's hiring rent boys. Surely marriage is throwing anchor and saying, 'This is where I'm staying, I've made my choice and this is all I want because I've been on the up and down escalator, through the revolving door and I want to stand still.' That's what I expected."

He added: "I don't know what goes on in many heterosexual marriages but I know mine was 28 years.

Of course, the fact that you dressed up as a magical geisha and used the mystical sword of Fantasia to confirm your wedding vows wouldn't have anything to do with how this didn't work out. Word:

Actually, that guy is kind of cute, even with the terrible haircut. Maybe if I put on my geisha dress he'll go out with me? Anyway, you hear this a lot, that gay relationships are intrinsically flawed since they're either some sort of outwardly expressed narcissism or a doomed quest for a father figure or whatever. Well, jeez, good thing there's no creepy parental issues or narcissistic searching for mirror images happening in hetero relationships, am I right? Am I right? Is this thing on?

In fact there's probably something to that mirror theory, but in a less nefarious way: I think you look for someone who mirrors you, but in a way where they seem to have solved questions or answered mysteries you can't figure out; the lucky part is when you do the same thing for them. Of course, the question of how you get them to get over their slow-burning internalized homophobia and alcohol-salved self-hatred long enough to actually see that, that's a whole other question. Not that I won't join you for that drink.