Adventures of a First Time Player - (Part 2) The Tour

The entryway had been made into a hallway, most likely so that entrants couldn’t see into the club right away.  Useful for wayward shoppers and travelers looking for a place to use the bathroom.  What I could see was a tall counter lining the wall to my right and a folding table at the far end of the hall.  As our ids were checked, we were handed waiver forms with a list of center rules.  We giggled as we checked all of the boxes swearing that we weren’t currently intoxicated or carrying any secret recording equipment or a federal employee (I guess postal workers can’t play).  We paid our $20 and turned the corner into a large open area.

I didn’t see much of the room at first because I became immediately fixated on a scene happening right in front of me.  On the floor next to a massage table was a trans gui* propped up on his elbows, ass in the air, dressed in jeans, leather chaps and matching vest.  Standing over him was a gorgeously androgynous person wearing strong black boots and a tight 50’s boy style t-shirt.  As I stared, ze stood over his kneeling partner, reeled back, and kicked him as hard as ze could in the ass.  Over and over again.  I became instantly aware of my lack of sex club etiquette.  Do I stop my mouth from hanging open?

Slowly, more of the room came into focus.  The place was sparsely populated; it was most likely still early in the evening for this kind of scene to be in full swing.  To my left, partitioned from the main room by a set of bars was a sitting area furnished with sturdy coffee tables and comfy yet questionable looking couches.  At the far end I could see a standard-type folding table laden with snack foods.  A small group of scantily clad individuals huddled around, talking and laughing.  I stepped a little further inside, skirting the kicking scene, which for the moment had turned intriguingly tender.  The whole place looked a little like a department store only instead of shelves of clothing I saw St. Andrews crosses, heavy benches, walls lined with chain link.  Certain areas of the floor were covered in soft mats, the kind that grocery store clerks sometimes stood on.  Condoms and lube and gloves were everywhere, clumped on low tables by every fixture.  I was standing in a sex club.  All of the images I had been toying with previously quickly left my head.  I focused on the new image and tried to adjust my face so it looked less awestruck and more casual.  I wanted to play it cool.  Front like I knew what I was doing.  But I knew I looked too bright eyed and bushy tailed to pass as anything but a virgin.

We were called into a huddle by the same young butch half of the veteran couple I had marveled at during the GQ social earlier in the week.  Perfect.  Ze explained that the open room was a voyeur zone; people could play and watch freely but it was suggested that we ask permission before watching a scene in progress.  How delightfully submissive, she thought blushing.  The rooms on our right were small and themed.  The first was non-descript but apparently flame-retardant, for fire play.  The second was decorated like a doctors office complete with stirrups and anatomy posters and was used for blood play.  Ze pointed out that people brought their own equipment, not just for blood play but their own floggers, whips, ropes, and anything else they might need.  Further down the hall on the left ze pulled aside a rainbow flag to show a dimly lit room with three or four beds separated by hanging sheets.  Just inside the door was an imposing sex swing.  This room was for fornicators and invited voyeurs only.  Ze pointed to a shelf – be sure to use clean sheets and put a towel between your nakedness and the equipment. 

We walked back across the main room, which was a bit fuller, and our guide pointed out more things as we went.  No sex in the bathrooms.  Let a guide know when you want to use a room.  Showers on the left.  I vaguely remember them saying something about a more private dungeon area behind a bear flag on the right but my eyes were busy jumping between the trans gui being flogged on one side of a st. Andrew's cross and the trans womyn on the other.  Then when the andro kicker from before took off their shirt to reveal a sexy genderfucking chest, I forgot I was even part of a tour.   As they handed their bottom a bottle of water I was taken through a door into a chilly breezeway that seemed to be used for storage.  It looked like good place for some back alley type play…note to self. 

The next room was smaller and brighter than the first but had many of the same fixtures.  There was an intimidating torture chair in one corner next to a human sized birdcage but the biggest difference was the one whole corner of the room was covered in wrestling mats apparently for takedowns and more aggressive scenes.  Before wishing us happy playing, the guide reminded us to look for people with name tags if we had any questions or needs.  Ze led one the more vocal newbies from the bus ride towards some lockers and a place where he could change. 

Feeling suddenly very much on my own and fairly overwhelmed I kind of froze.  I don’t think I even knew what diving in would entail, even if I wanted to.  I took a deep breath and looked at M.  I must have been smiling because she smiled back at me with the same excited look she gets whenever I experience something new for the first time. 

“Do you want to watch something?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to find a place to sit for a minute?”

“Those guys were so hot.”

Of course she knew whom I meant.  We walked back towards the main room and found a couch off to the side but still close enough to the kicking and kicked to be useful.  I hunkered into a corner seat and just watched, waiting for my nerves to subside.  A new group had arrived and started the tour.

*I don’t know how anyone in the club identified so these identities are based only on my personal readings of bodies and gendered visibilities.  


Bo(nnie)

thinking about math:

Patriots for a Moral Utah and The Final Solution

I was involved in the Utah Fair Solutions Initiative farce that took place at the capitol building this month.  I was brought in fairly late in the game to organize a counter-protest.  Much of the discourse in the news media and among community members focused on comparisons between the proposal and Nazi Germany.  In fact, a friend of mine expressed dismay at the use of the phrase “final solution” in the initiative.  Her concern was that comparing the experiences of modern Queer folks in the United States to the experiences of Jews in Nazi Germany was not only disrespectful but also that The Final Solution referred to imprisoning and murdering Jews, not relocating or reeducating them as UFSI suggests doing to homosexuals in Utah.  It took me quite a while to decompress after the protest at the capitol so I only recently responded to these concerns.  Here’s my take on it.

So when this all went down I read the initiative and talked to the people who wrote it (since I wasn't involved in that part).  The initiative is referred to as a fair solution almost exclusively both in writing and speech with the exception of one time in the actual wording of the document that says “a final solution” (never THE final solution).  The person who wrote this says that the use of the phrase “final solution” was completely unintentional and expressed dismay that links to Nazism or the holocaust were made at all.  The only historical references made throughout the entire campaign on the part of the organizers (from my perspective anyway) were references to relocation and reeducation within the US, namely those involving Native Americans and the internment of the Japanese and Japanese Americans during WWII. 

Personally, while I think cautions can be drawn from Nazi trajectories during the 30's and 40's, and while I think that too often the unique experiences of Queer people under Nazi regimes are intentionally marginalized, I agree that equating the modern struggle of Queer people in the United States to Nazi Germany is wholly unnecessary and mostly inappropriate given the abundance of more applicable, more similar, historical and cultural examples of oppression and discrimination.  

However, I certainly can acknowledge that media as well as community discourse revolved around the final solution reference, presenting it as a focal point.  I believe that the forcing of this aspect of the initiative and the protest is indicative of several things. 

Firstly, it represents the santaclausification of the Holocaust in this country.  You’re right the holocaust isn’t talked about enough.  But more importantly, it isn’t talked about in its totally complexity.  I think that similarly to the way the Civil Rights movement is invoked by so many White gay people, the unidimensional way the Holocaust is talked about leads to the simplified, slippery slope, tag-line, colonizing way the Holocaust is invoked in reference to anything that has to do with taking rights away, as evident by this situation.  Therefore, I think the forced comparison to this initiative to the Holocaust by media and community members is a considerably more offensive and more harmful privileged expression than the actual final solution reference. 

Secondly, colonizing the Holocaust means that we as a society don’t have to engage the abundance of examples of civil and political atrocities committed within our borders.  If we exoticizing the Holocaust then we get to be the heros of the downtrodden instead of the one’s wearing the boots.  Taking any kind of responsibility or accountability for our own history is common-place in this country and is representative in the discourse around the farce and the final solution. 

  

Finally, the straw-man focus on this element represents strategic methods of domination utilized under oppressive paradigms in order to propagate their continued rule.  Throughout this process, there was a concerted effort to debase and demonize the farce.  It was inappropriate.  It was ineffective. It was offensive.  It was unplanned.  I’m not defending what we did as a pillar of civic virtue.  Of course we struggled with a lot of intended and unintended consequences just as anyone does in the planning and execution of any protest.  I believe, however, that simplifying it in terms of the Holocaust is a fairly effective way to delegitimize our efforts ensuring that any of the social, political, and cultural dialogue intended by the farce be suppressed.  This country touts political participation as a paramount value but structurally and culturally alienates certain groups from the political process.  This alienation is imperative for maintaining hegemonic control.  This form of protest isn’t common in Utah.  But as confusing or enraging as it was for many community members and members of the press, it was also threatening to stakeholders in power.

So in closing, I 100 percent validate your discomfort at flippant comparisons being made between modern Queer struggles and the experiences of Jews in Nazi Germany.  I take responsibility for the consequences you’ve brought up of the use of the term “final solution” in the initiative.  I recognize that its use is most likely a product of privileged oversight.  However, I stand behind the farce completely.  As a group, the Patriots for a Moral Utah, were incredibly mindful in their planning and execution of this event and I’m proud to have been a part of something so innovative and challenging to the status quo. 

*I really want to thank my friend for caring enough about the farce and about their perspectives to put themself outthere, and question me about it.

Bo(nnie)

The Adventures of a First Time Player - (Part One) Play?

Last October I went to Seattle for Gender Odyssey, an annual Transgender community conference.  Upon receiving the schedule I saw that on one of the last nights there was going to be a Trans positive play party.  I hadn’t ever heard of a play party before and the description left me guessing between something like a slumber party (like a tupperware party but with sex toys) and a straight up sex party.  The only reference I have for sex parties are sparse cinematic and literary images of somewhat gross and desperate people engaging in rather filthy acts.  Safety and fun didn’t immediately jump to mind. 

At the opening social I made an uncharacteristically bold decision to ask some random but very friendly Trans folks what this party business was all about.  They confirmed that it was, for all intents and purposes, a sex party and explained to me that some people go to watch, others to participate.  Later at the GenderQueer social, I listened in on a conversation between several inquisitive young minds and two veteran players.  I was initially captivated by the interracial, inter-age, inter-gender and general Queerness (and hotness) of these two players but was eager to hear more details about the party.  They answered the question on the collective tip our disbelieving minds, “Yeah but to people actually have sex?”

I spent the rest of the conference days leading up to the play party discussing attendance with my fellow Utah travelers.  My friend (w/benefits :), M, from Washington was definitely going, the super-Queer couple in our midst was in, some were too young, some were too bashful, and one particularly tragic guy was intrigued but caught up in the trappings of monogamy. 

On the night of the party, M and I waited for the shuttle from the hotel to the "Center" ***name ommitted due to legal waiver***.  The name conjured up images of community centers and resource spaces I have always frequented.  I imagined these spaces temporarily manipulated, possibly cordoned off for one night to accommodate 100 or so Queer Trans folk.  Riding the shuttle felt kind of like getting strapped in to a really exciting but really intimidating roller coaster.  Everyone who had ridden before exuding calming energy to those of us trying to slow our breathing.  Boasting in the kind of way that makes you grateful instead of violent.  I was glad there were other first timers going.  The short ride transformed our motley crew into a united cohort.  Nervous talkers asked for introductions.  The bold started flirting, not with anyone in particular but more like throwing some flirt into the air and just letting it sprinkle down onto the rest of the riders. 

Tension mounted as we pulled into the parking lot.  I recognized the collective intake of breath that precedes the falling scream on roller coasters.  I stepped out of the van and instinctively took one final deep breath knowing that the taste buds in my lungs would soon be breathing in unknown flavors.  Holding onto M’s hand tighter than I probably intended, a bright-eyed-bushy-tailed smile on my face, I followed my cohort through the door…

(to be continued)...

Bo(nnie)

hegemonic spaces

it could be said that there's nothing illegal with what the church is doing with this city. it has billions of dollars in assets and it spends those dollars with a goal of maximum benefit. like any major profiteering corporation. but as the church continues to purchase land in downtown salt lake alternative businesses and agendas will continue to be marginalized. as city creek rises to bring the rich mormon tourists back to zion, the white male head of the church plans its next urban takeover. rest assured that god is an excellent businessman.

http://www.sltrib.com/realestate/ci_14142357

Church buys prime downtown real estate

Salt Lake City » LDS official calls 13 acres a long-term investment.

By Lesley Mitchell

The Salt Lake Tribune

Updated: 01/08/2010 07:05:45 AM MST

In an abrupt about-face, the LDS Church has vastly expanded its presence in downtown Salt Lake City with the purchase of 13 acres of prime real estate, including one entire city block.

The church, which is active in real-estate development, purchased a 10-acre block between 400 South and 500 South and West Temple and Main streets from the Sinclair Cos., controlled by oil magnate Earl Holding. The block is directly north of the Little America Hotel, which is owned by Holding.

The church also purchased a 2- to 3-acre parcel to the east of that 10-acre block across Main Street, said Sinclair spokesman Clint Ensign, who declined further comment. That parcel is directly north of the Grand America hotel, which also is owned by Holding.

LDS Church spokesman Scott Trotter confirmed the purchase by the church's Property Reserve Inc.

"The land was purchased as a long-term investment with no immediate plans for development," he said in a statement. Purchase price was not disclosed, although estimates value the deal around $25 million.

The purchase, announced Thursday, runs counter to the church's statements over the years that it does not want to keep expanding its downtown real-estate empire, which already consists of the equivalent of more than six city blocks.

In a 2004 interview, LDS Church Presiding Bishop H. David Burton said the church does not want to own more property south of 100 South or north of 200 North.

"We don't want to, in any way, have a situation where it can be said that the church is trying to control the city," Burton said at the time. "What we're trying to do is control that part of our destiny that is immediately adjacent to the most important, sacred parts of the property owned by the church."

Brandon Smith, a land broker with NAI Utah in Salt Lake City, said he believes the church eventually will build a mixed-use development on the site, a project that probably would have a hotel component to it. But unlike other developers who must finance the acquisition of land and construction, the LDS Church most likely can afford to wait -- years if it wants -- before officials even begin to plan what to do with the property. Smith said that 10 contiguous acres could accommodate most any type of development.

The church already is developing the massive City Creek Center project four blocks to the north in downtown Salt Lake City, which will include retail, office and residential space.

The church did go beyond its self-imposed central business district boundaries years ago when it bought the Old Navy building, south of 100 South on Main Street, and later, when it purchased the former Newspaper Agency Corp. offices at 135. S. Main St. But both were fairly small purchases compared with the purchase announced Thursday.

Much of the 13-acre parcel being sold to the church by Sinclair comprises surface parking lots used by various tenants downtown. Ensign said the Holding family still owns about 14 acres south of their two hotels.

Over the years, various uses have been proposed for the 10-acre property. It was a possible site for the Real Salt Lake soccer stadium, but that project ultimately was built in Sandy. In June of last year, Holding offered up some of the property for a new convention center, a proposal that went nowhere.

Salt Lake City Councilman Luke Garrott on Thursday said the lack of development of that land has been a detriment to the downtown area.

"It's been a dead zone. If this [sale] spurs good development in the south part of downtown, I'm all for it."

A (Slam)Poem About Words

(A work in progress.  But progressed enough to share) - Bo(nnie)

I don’t give a fuck about marriage.

I said I don’t give a fuck about marriage.

Because marriage is a noun made proper.  An M capitalized by those who can’t remember how to spell the word safety.  Who feel free to walk down the streets without flaunting.  Trivial to those wanting to write discreet on their bodies in permanent marker before touching foot to concrete, a seemingly simple act, a pact that we make with our neighbors and friends, asking please don’t end my life tonight.  Clenched with fright, our muscles aching and our hands shaking turns every step worth taking from a seemingly simple act of touching our feet to the street to one that causes our heat to rise and our hearts to beat, faster and faster until the letters that spell the word fear start to look like the letters that spell our own names.  So that every declaration we make comes out sounding like shame. 

So yeah talk about marriage if these problems aren’t yours.  But to us they sound like before.  Before Stonewall, when a drag queen spelled her name in the dried blood above her lip.  Who cries when she thinks of the word drip, because with every drop she thinks of the voice of the cop who forgot how to pronounce the word protect.  You can’t expect a big M to mean marriage when to a big part of this community it means marked.

I could use the word marked to write you a history of a people hoping.  Yes groping for meaning in the dark.  Stark definitions sometimes just out of our reach.  They teach us that hope is a verb but only how to spell it with rope.  Hope, it’s letters etched with razor blades.  Hope sounded out through mouthfuls of pills it’s meaning caught in our throats.  We know that hope is a verb because Transgender teens write it neatly between the lines of their suicide notes. 

But we are on the brink of a redefinition.  The ink that flows from our hands stamps Trans over your capital M version of hope.  Because the truth is, being trans is the shit!  It brings with it the urge to rebel, our history is full of people who wouldn’t submit.  It splits the gender binary and carries the power to turn I into we.

We are a boy who writes love songs to his chest and all the lyrics rhyme with T.

We’re a young woman who feels her breasts and knows why exclamation starts with E.

And we’re weirdo’s in between who spell gender with a Z.

Our bodies have been strengthened by history. 

Do you really think a ring on my finger is what we need?

birthday post-venting: a strategy

inspired by the epic tag team that is lisa duggan and kathryn bond stockton, we started drinking. and talking. which led to more drinking. when talking turned to ranting we decided to start transcribing:

“the problem is that you and I, and people like us, are forced to deal with drastic change. drastic cultural shifts that would cause male-identified men not to be associated with privilege. …can I imagine a utopia?...yes! but do I have any idea how to manipulate the current system we’re in to get there? no! all I can do is fucking vent. it’s kind of like strategy. but anti-strategy having an effect. so instead of picking a strategy and arguing I’m going to convince these people that manhood isn’t the be all end all, I’m going to create a moratorium between lgb’s and republicans. so you and I have to deal with unrecognized, unredeemable discussions of drastic cultural shifts. In 20 years, in 40 years when lisa duggan’s progeny is giving a speech and people like you and i….(you know we see how) gay use to be queer! the plane we occupy has a lineage we can’t imagine. we don’t know how we’re going to affect lineage. we don’t know how we’re going to affect history. we only know we’re on the right side of history. and we only know because of those who came before us. Hopefully those connections will be seen in 40 years.”