During the recovery, Morgan realized a lot of things. He'd always felt uncomfortable as a man. Although he liked being an ironworker, it was one of numerous ways he'd overcompensated for the innate sense that he really should be a woman. Before the accident, he had considered making the transition but ruled it out because of age and physical appearance. In the hospital, however, Morgan found a new rationale: "I said to myself, 'There are plenty of ugly fucking women out there -- so I'm doing this!'"
Meet Morgan the woman, who appears Friday at the Dark Room.
Talking about politics is like anchovies on pizza: a small, strange portion of the population claims to enjoy it, but most of us can't quite stomach it.
But Cecile Richards, president of the Planned Parenthood Federation of America, managed it elegantly last night at the Commonwealth Club, where she discussed her life, her mission, and recent congressional actions that Planned Parenthood has called the "most devastating assault on women's health in American history."
Besides all that, her poise inspired me to try talking politics again and see whether it still make me want to barf. More on that -- and the curious state of Planned Parenthood in San Francisco -- below.
Last Thursday morning, with nothing less than a few hours to lose before work, I managed to snag an interview with one of SFs biggest queens, Heklina.
When I say 'big', I am not referring to big, as in size, because as she is proud to flaunt, she recently lost 25lbs, and no, not by the removal of her head. (Trust me, as you will find out, her 'head' is still intact).
She is preparing for her birthday celebration this Friday night at DNA Lounge (375 Eleventh Street). It's a "Best of Trannyshack" show with great performances from the past year and a special appearance from J. Vivian Bond.
So I jauntily walked (ran) to her palatial (small) Pacific Heights (Lower Haight) condo (studio). I was graciously greeted by her doorman (a sneer from her possessive cat, Einar) and handed over my housewarming gift to the hostess (non-fat milk for our coffee.)
I didn't want to write about Tracy Morgan. I wanted to write about how last week Marc Maron invited me to L.A. to be in his TV pilot. I wanted to write about how I hung out with the pilot's director, the super chill and Academy Award-winning Luke Matheny. And how Luke realized we had met before and that I had yelled some advice at him. But somehow along the way Tracy Morgan did something that comics know him to do on a regular basis; he said something outrageously offensive. In Nashville he let loose with many derogatory and hateful things about gay people, and not in a funny way like an old-school Andrew "Dice" Clay cassette.
Obviously what he said is horrible. I'm not going to be like many of my fellow comedians and say, "Hey! He's a comic! Can't you take a joke?" Well no, people don't have to take jokes. Offending people is in fact an occupational hazard. And Morgan is in the school of comedy where the offense is an inherent part of the joke. So if you are an offensive comic, you can't be surprised when the rare occasion comes where people are actually offended. Same argument I had when Don Imus got fired.
For those uninitiated, Go Fug Yourself has been in the fashion blogging game since 2004, making it as close to an august institution as you'll find in the blog world. In 2005 it was named one of the 50 Coolest Websites by Time, in 2006 Entertainment Weekly pegged it as one of its 25 favorite entertainment sites, and in 2008 The Guardian (no, not that "The Guardian," the one in Britain) named it one of the 50 Most Powerful Blogs. So, yeah, it's a Pretty Big Deal.
Beyond making the word "fugly" part of the lexicon, Cocks and Morgan also helped popularize a certain online tone that is omnipresent now. It's a style that's heavy on the exclamation point, slightly scattered, and very funny. Take this post from way back in 2005, gleefully tearing apart an unfortunate Macy Gray dress:
It doesn't fit! The shoes don't match! The dress itself may, in fact, be composed entirely of a cast-off set of drawing room curtains from the set of Scarlett: The Sequel to Gone With the Wind, starring Timothy Dalton! It's certainly totally flammable. And for that, Macy Gray, we the Fug Girls salute you. Anyone who shows up to an awards show looking both baked and bake-able is okay by us.
Naked Girls Reading is a group of beautiful ladies who love to read without a stitch of clothing, save for a pair of rainbow knee-highs or a belly dancer's belt shimmying and jangling up to the mic. It originated in Chicago two years ago as a spontaneous moment between founder Michelle L'amour and her partner Franky Vivid where the husband caught the wife naked in repose with book in hand. The two agreed that there was something powerful and beautiful about the breast beside the book.
Now the event has expanded to more than 10 cities, with famed burlesque performer Lady Monster heading the San Francisco chapter. June's event took place at the Center for Sex and Culture where each performer read their favorite selections from queer literature in honor of PRIDE.
An empowering event amongst a supportive audience, Naked Girls Reading allowed the audience to connect with the performers intimately without the pretensions of, say, articles of clothing. The nudity was nearly overlooked, normalized, as it was secondary to the works the performers presented, and any sense of vulnerability lifted, from both the naked readers baring all and clothed spectators bearing witness.
