Elaine Miller
The Collected "Opinions By Joe" Articles - Appeared in Diversity Magazine 1994 - 1997.
The Collected "Opinions By Joe" Articles
Appeared in Diversity Magazine 1994 - 1997.
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I've got a bit of a habit of doing drag, and a similar one of writing, and it was only natural to combine the two into a series of opinion pieces from the point of view of my drag character Joe Craig, the Opinionated Scotsman. Brevity, a chatty style, and humour were the key. As they were written for Diversity, an alternative lifestyles magazine, they are all adult/kinky/queer oriented. |
Monogamy
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 1)
It was during my search for the meaning of life, the universe and everything (Douglas Adams is a wierd sot, ain’t he?) that it suddenly occurred to me that ‘monogamy’ and ‘monotony’ sound much the same. When I pointed this out to a casual aquaintance, I was whacked upside the stubble at my temples and forced to chant; "I am searching for my One True Love, I am searching for my One True Love....." until I passed out from anoxia - or obnoxia.
Whelmed by this seeming overresponse to mere lexigraphical trivia, I sauntered forthwith unto a conversational sparring partner of long standing and ventured the same whimsical titbit. At the instant the words "... lot like monotony, doesn’t it?" passed my lips, I was greeted with a look seen most often on the faces of small children with sidewalk-resident ice cream.
Hours later, my throat still raw from intoning "One is all I need. It is greedy to want more..." over and over, I retired to a private spot to review my own feelings on the matter.
Monogamy - Are you supposed to mate for life; like swans and Catholics? And if serial monogamy is the answer, what’s to stop me from saying "OK, now I’m in a relationship with you....And now I’m in one with you.... OK, now you..." If I’m in a three-way relationship, is it bigamy? Or is that only with a partner of over 200 lbs? I know that trigamy is a branch of mathematics, and isn’t polygamy something you do with parrots? What about safe-sex agreements - Condomonogamy? And sex with a bisexual: Bi-Bi-gamy? Sounds like an Elvis movie. Hmm. This is harder than defining ‘kinky’ to my mother.
I feel an OPINION coming... it’s coming.... coming....
The subject, if not the state, of monogamy is anything but monotonous. As for entering into it, (the state of ‘monogamousness’, I mean!) it looks like you’d have to have some fairly serious discussions with your intended ‘gamous’ to define what you mean by the Dreaded Word. The potential for misunderstanding makes your average Three’s Company* episode look tame.
*Obscure cultural reference. Ask your grandmother.
Pin One on Me! or: Gender Blender
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 2)
- with thanks to Ivan for some very funny imagery.
I’m going to indulge in a bit of labelling, now. (Horrors!) Recently I’ve been debating the irony of being labelled and then accused of not being ‘true’ to that label. I understand: the principles of taxonomy demand that we classify all those things that we see, as the known and named thing holds no terrors for our vestigial early-primate brain. If I name a few things for people, perhaps their mistrust and sexism/genderism might disappear back into the first Pre-Cambrian dawn. Follow my reasoning and history lesson and forgive my loose definition of the word Gender - but, the sacred law of IMO* stands.
Around the 1950’s (which I pick on because it is my parents’ coming-of-age), we had three popularily understood genders: Hetero male (boy loves girl) and Hetero female (girl loves boy) and Otherwise. All Otherwises were deemed mentally ill and/or physically handicapped, so in order to avoid being forcibly ‘fixed’, most people pretended to one of the former classifications.
Some even believed in them.
Around the 1970’s, after an enormous amount of suffering on the part of some Otherwises, there were more recognised genders. Hetero male, Hetero female, Homo male (boy loves boy), Otherwise, and Women In Sensible Shoes (girl loves girl? But who plays the man?). See, a lot of people hadn’t got a handle on the ‘L’ word yet. Never mind all the people still stuck in the catch-all category.
Now it’s the 90’s, and people are much more knowledgeable. (*ahem*) Now popular culture recognises (Here we go again...) Heterosexual male (why is this always at the front of the list? Go figure), Heterosexual female, Homosexual male, Homosexual female, Bisexual male (must be a closet case), Bi-curious female ("come meet me and sleep with my boyfriend"), Male-to-Female (Hetero)Transexual (confused? - was born a boy, is now a woman, seeks relationships with men) and People Who Appear On Talk Shows.
We’ve come a long way, baby. (?) (Help me.)
Hmm. Forgive me for seeming picky, but this set of definitions seems far too limited - even to describe myself and my modest set of friends and aquaintances. What about all the incredibly rich gender-within-biology matrices lived by: various people who are transgendered, (pre-operative, post-operative, never-want-the-operatives, female-to-male, male-to-female... ) tops, bottoms, switches, daddies and adult boys, butch, leathermen, femme, queen, bi, In-a-state-of-flux, submissive, dominant, fetishists, cross dressers, transvestites, drag queens. asexual people, adult babies, narciccists, and more!
Never mind labelling others, what gender are you, if you are in love with a dyke daddy who likes to wear garters and panty-hose underneath her strap-on? Or a California beach-bum type with a fetish for foot worship while being peed on by his latex-wearing girlfriend (who is a vegetarian and is wearing a butt plug.)? Does it matter what gender you identify as? Does it matter if s/he fucks you or you fuck her/him? Or if they do it for money, too?
I can’t even remember all the words I have heard to describe gender and gender preference. I’m certainly missing over half of the main ones. But, really, what we are trying to describe is very puzzling to me. A self-called Exasperated Bisexual for many years, I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’ve never felt ‘like’ a gender (a product of my socialization, sure.) and I’ve never held gender against someone when I want to fuck them, or even hold their hand in a restaurant line-up. I’ve developed a label that fits me and explains some stuff to people.
I am a Sexual. Now there’s something I’d wear on a T-shirt. Would you?
Halt! Friend or Fuck-Buddy?
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 3)
Here’s a topic that has been puzzling the ancients for longer than the "What are all those twinkly things in the night sky?" question. Can friends be lovers? Or: Can they have sex without changing the ‘friend’ status?
I’ve been working on it myself for about ten years, since the first time I innocently approached a friend for a quick tumble and got it — then almost lost the friendship.
"Oh, my god, I can’t believe we did that... We were such good friends... and now..."
Huh? I thought at first it was an accolade to my superior skills and marked enthusiasm, but — no. I then thought it was a derogatory comment. Perhaps I’d been so clumsy as to be insulting?
Soon it was made clear. Friends can’t fuck, because they are "friends". Someone I knew so well that I could finish their sentences (I never claimed to be without bad habits) was not an acceptable target for my lustful intentions. It is taken as a truism — One may be either be a lover/romantic interest, or friend material.
This stems, I believe, from the commonly held idiocy that Sexual Desire is synonymous with Romantic Love (eww, that word!).
Uh-huh. So this fire in my loins is actually my heartfelt desire to give you flowers, shack up and have kids with you? Until death. Which may occur sooner than you think. Especially with all those long walks on the beach, quiet nights by the fireside, and candlelit dinners.(Fer chrissake, honey, can’t we see the food for once? And will you quit tracking sand all over the fucking house?) ‘Til death do us part is a phrase surely responsible for more homicides in the history of relating-ships ….
Maybe the trouble here is that many people are not aware that there are more options than Romance. Let me further divide the word ‘love’, then, into a few more categories. Like, umm, food-love (chocolate), sex-love (lust), friend-love, family-love, pet-love, mother-love, car-love (auto-eroticism), and love-love (for purists). There’s a lot more, but these will do for my purposes.
Some loves even mix together well. Food/sex-love, car/sex-love, friend/sex-love, even romantic/sex-capital-’L’-Love work for me.
Some mixes, though, are just asking for trouble. We’ve all seen the poodle-like children of mother/pet-love. And I can’t even think about pet/sex-love (all that fur...). But I digress.
I, personally, won’t fuck someone unless I like them a real whole bunch. And yeah, I gotta feel desire for that person. But it doesn’t have to be romantic Love, not by a long shot. Friend/sex-love is a tasty mix, IMO.*
If that physical chemistry is there, how can you be blind to great sex with a person you’d donate a kidney for? How can sex damage a friendship that has lasted through your seven weeks of whining about your last relationship? Or the time your friend fell in Love and forgot to call for three months?
One caveat: The only barrier to fuck-buddyism is that of unbalanced values.** If you are playing with someone who has that strong "sex equals Love" thing, you may suddenly find yourself in the aforementioned relationship. (Aw, snookums, we’re wearing a hole in the bearskin rug at the fireside!)
What a mess that can be if you’re not in Romance with her/him. Sticky broken hearts, a naughty reputation, custody battles over the Nintendo... the list goes on.
My point? My Opinion, even? Taking a bold leap into the twenty-first century, leaving the bowels of the Victorian age:
You can fuck someone you don’t "Love".
And: A good friend can make a great lover.
And: Watch out for Romance. It’s sneaky.
*in my opinion. (of course)
*Actually, unbalanced people can be quite a problem, too.
Joe's Suicide Pact
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 4)
I've made a suicide pact with some friends. If the thing I am most afraid of happens, they will (hopefully) have my help in making my mercy killing look like a suicide. That is, unless I have reached the terminal stages of the condition. "Problem? What problem, worm!? Kneel and worship my DaytonTM Steel-Toed Engineer Boots!"
Yes, it's the tendency to Speak In Capitalized Words: Tops' Disease. And it's my greatest fear in this life. Every other disease I can and do take precautions against contracting--but how to guard against a disease that comes from within?
What's that? Not familiar with Tops' Disease (or TD as I affectionately dubbed it)? You've all seen it. Some of you may suffer from it unwittingly. It is the end product of years of being flattered, worshipped and obeyed in a scene or play context for so long that one begins to Take Oneself Seriously. Gaah.
With the onset of Lack of Humour, TD is ready to spill into your everyday life, causing you to mistreat innocent bystanders in the callous manner formerly reserved to thrill your bottom in a consensual humiliation scene. This mistreatment is rarely physical in nature, yet no-one can deny the sadism of reducing a busboy to tears on his first day on the job. In its extreme form, TD affects love, business and play relationships adversely. Sneakily, it disguises itself as confidence, righteous anger, assertiveness. I'm terrified of contracting a case.
Often I check in with myself. Am I too overbearing? Did I get what I wanted or did I merely send a shopboy off to weep in the stockroom? Can my friends safely disagree with me, or have they given up? Do I have friends? Do I ask -- or announce my wishes? When was the last time I apologised? For anything? And when did my personality go from powerful to smug? Am I labouring under the delusion that I know what you're thinking better than you do? Do I sometimes marvel at my Godlike powers? Aughhh!
An opinion? (Don't imagine that you weren't expecting one. I know you were.) Beware Tops' Disease. It sneaks up on you. (Except Me. It could never get Me.) Watch closely for the signs.
Beware, I Say. (I Know What's Good For You, After All.) And It's a Good thing That I'm Immune--Isn't It?
"I’ve Axed You Nicely…"
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 5)
Where we have Joe teetering on a soapbox—-with an axe to grind, yet!
This is the phrase I overheard:
"I have been in the scene for about ten years now, and it seems to me that the people who are just coming into it are getting stupider and stupider...."
Ooooh, I have long battled the impatience I feel; the overwhelming desire to go out and open minds with an axe if necessary. I keep saying to myself. "Violent mind-opening is only a temporary pleasure, and is bound to get you talked about..."* But when I hear these same things over and over —"Young/new/novice people don’t know anything"— I take a fresh grip on my axe handle and pray for more patience.
So people are stupid? Misguided? Yeah, and whose fault is that? Have you tried to teach them or have you ignored a newcomer because they did not know all the elements of etiquette? Did you spring from the womb fully versed in all the intricacies of human interaction?
People everywhere seem to be abdicating the responsibility for teaching, both the new generation of people coming into the scene — and yeah, out there in the big world, too.
— pause for Rant—
F’rinstance, what about your straight friends? Have you communicated your joy in yourself and your hobbies and passions or have you hidden it away like something of which you should be ashamed? If you, yourself, feel that your desires are sick, it merely reinforces others’ ideas that the things you do are wrong, and that you should be saved from yourself. (This is the paternalistic, big brother view: we are conditioned to believe that alternative sex is psychologically unhealthy; therefore, by definition, all those people who enjoy alternative sex are ill, and can be cured—and pitied.)(That’s you, by the way. Reading disgusting pornography. For shame.)
Yeah, I do admit that some people might be better off not knowing that many details about you. I’d guess your boss shouldn’t be hearing that much about your personal life anyhow; and while Mom may not need to know the number and location of your welts, the quiet statement that you see nothing wrong with SM sexuality may go a long way towards flavouring her ideas on the subject.
Many people are not equipped with the ability to deal with a new concept on its own terms, and will persist in slotting your "aberrant" behavior into the closest cubbyhole they know of. For most everyday people, SM means abuse, insanity, criminality. You — as a voice of reason — are our best defense against ignorance, bigotry and small-mindedness. Shine a light into these dark tunnels; add your voice to those already standing out in the cultural/social firing zone!
—end Rant (whew!)—
It is very important to extend a welcome to the people who are coming in to explore, to enjoy, and even to gawk. Remember that these are the people who in a few years will be seasoned players — your friends — and will be welcoming others in turn. (At the very least, you don’t want to give them a chance to be smug about how much more reasonable they are than the community that once snubbed them. Nooo, the moral high ground is where you want to be!)
And spreading information, experience & knowledge is simply the best way to keep our scenes hot and safe, our eyes twinkling, our businesses stable and the government out of our bedrooms. Share, damnit.
My absolutely inevitable Opinions: Knowledge is power. Education is a sacred duty — and it is long past time to do just that little bit, both to open the channels of communication within, and lessen that fear from without.
And while you’re at it: Open some minds!
Just don’t forget to leave the axe at home.
* thx to RAH
Opinion-hated.
Wherein Our Columnist dabbles in the occult—channeling the spirits of the Truly Annoyed.
Warning: May contain sarcasm.
Opinions By Joe (Diversity Issue 6)
This issue I am channeling the spirits (only a few of many!) of those brave souls who are on the forefront of dealing with the general public. Here’s what they are really thinking when they smile tightly and say "Well, it’s not quite like that, let me explain…"
"Hey, I couldn’t help noticing that you’re black! I’ve got an ex-girlfriend who’s black, and that gives me the perfect right to talk to you as if we’re buddies. Aren’t I cool? Here’s a nifty joke. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before…"
Ommm…
Sigh. Having a friend/lover who is Black, Asian, Irish, Female, Queer, or whatever does not bestow license to tell off-colour jokes, make comparisons, or become best friends with the next person of that group/type/nationality/race that you see. S/he just doesn’t care. Don’t try to tell that racist joke. You’re still a stranger, only now you’re an offensive stranger. Shut up and go away.
"Gays in the Military? No way. Ya can’t trust a fag next to ya in the foxhole. Ya gotta (snigger, elbow) watch yer ass, y’know what I mean?"
Ommm…
Oh, yes, like anyone would want your flabby, spotted straight-boy ass, bozo. If any fag or dyke wants to endure the mud, those haircuts and your company for the dubious privilege of dying for their country, I say let ‘em. Their presence may also encourage the huge percentage of queers already in the military to come out of the closet. (This is known as the Better Latent than Never policy) Maybe the uniforms might become a little snappier. Maybe soldiers might be a little less interested in… ah… sublimated violence. A brave new world, n’est ce pas? Brings a new meaning to the concept of new recruit.
"I didn’t want to be alone with that gay person. S/he might try to touch me! Icky poo"
Ommm…
By this dubious logic, any het male and het female alone in a room together will fall on each other, snorting with lust, at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps they’re doomed by hormones to fuck the first person of the ‘attractive sex’ that they meet? Although perhaps this explains your existence, as doubtless your parents couldn’t possibly have been truly attracted to each other… I mean, look at them! Why do you imagine yourself so hot, Mr. Disco Inferno, that any gay male will beg to twiddle your nipples?
"Why do all lesbians hate men? And why do they all want to look like men? And why are all fags so girly?"
Ommm…
This one’s easy.
The dykes I know love women. This does not mean that they hate men—just that they aren’t forced to hang out with men by virtue of glandular pressure, and do so only by choice. On the other hand, most of the dykes I know (like most of the people I know) hate assholes. You pick your category and come up with your own answer.
Lesbians who have a ‘masculine’ appearance aren’t trying to look like men, idiot. They are trying to look like butch dykes. Why? They want to look on the outside, the way they feel on the inside… and they want to attract women who are attracted to butch dykes. (Duh.) She wouldn’t get many dates if she looked like your mother. (see previous) Ditto for femmy fags.
And… not all lesbians are butch and not all gays are femme. You only see the ones who are obvious enough for even your untutored eye to pick them out of a crowd. Don’t ever forget about the huge percentage who just don’t fit your prejudices.
"If you really loved me, you’d change."
Ommm…
Fuck off.
(Sorry folks, that’s all that channeled through)
(Special request coming through…)
Ommm…
We all wish the sadists (physical, sexual and emotional) would all come out of the closet right now, start getting responsible for their actions and using those energies sanely to make some consenting masochist happy or build skyscrapers or something. Stop practicing on your kids and spouses! They didn’t sign up to be hurt and fucked up. This one’s not even remotely funny.
"I know what you said, but I assumed you meant…"
Ommm…
(sound of thousands of outraged growls)
Polyamourous people get this one a lot, as do kinky folks, as do any set of people who have examined themselves, their lives and loves in order to come up with careful statements about themselves. Listen, if I had spent hours explaining myself and my life-patterns to someone close to me, I’d be tempted to brand them an imbecile if they went ahead and thought I was just kidding when I said I was a sadist, or non-monogamous, or bisexual. That’s right, sister. Just hum softly to yourself and repeat after me. "Your information makes me uncomfortable, therefore I will pretend it isn’t true." Recto-cranial inversion, indeed!
Ommm…Ommm…Ommm…
OK, OK, calm down, I can’t channel any faster - I’m new at this kind of PSI-kick stuff. I’m typing as fast as I can! I know there so many more things to say but I’m running out of room! Hey! Get out of my head! Hey! Leggo the keyboard! Hey....
Assumptions—we all make them. Pity.
-Joe, May ‘97
