YOU'RE WRONG
An Irregular Column
by Mykel Board
Dick and Jane fuck. Dick is on top. Jane lies on her back. Her eyes are closed. She feels Dick's body rough and heavy against her.
"It's Sally," Jane says to herself. "I can do this if I think it's really Sally. That hairy belly is her smoothness. That hideous thrusting between my legs is her fingers, her tongue, probing, reaching, looking for just the right spots."
Dick, unaware of Jane's thoughts, keeps thrusting. Sweat lands from his chin onto her lips. She licks them lightly. Squeezing her eyes tighter.
"It's her sweat." she thinks. "I can do this. I know I can. I just have to imagine her face in front of me. I want to be normal. I can do it. As long as I don't have to suck his cock. I can do it."
The thrusting between her legs stops. The weight on top of her shifts. A tap comes to her lips. She opens her eyes. The six inches of hard tube touches her chin. Her two eyes focus on the one-eyed monster. It's the last straw. The final blow. The end of pretending.
She struggles. Thrusts upward. Pushes the hapless Dick off her body.
"I CAN'T. I CAN'T," she screams. "I'm a lesbian."
Dick's jaw drops in amazement.
"There! I said it." screams Jane, "I'm gay. Gay! A lesbo! A carpet-munching, muff-diving, pussy bumping lesbian! Get it? Now get out of here!"
Quickly Dick dresses and leaves. Tears come to Jane's eyes. They're tears of relief as much as tears of pain. Jane has come out-- at least to herself. Soon, it'll be to everyone she knows.
I've written before about the sadness-- and uselessness-- of coming out. I've told you about the evils of identifying yourself with a group and limiting yourself to that identity. But there is something about the coming out process that is liberating. Something that lets you breathe easier and makes you less afraid of words caste your way.
In this column, I'm going to come out. Not sexually, of course. My sex preferences are no secret. (Much to the dismay of many readers.) I'm secure in my sexuality without naming it. Instead, I want to come out in a very different way.
Let's go back a few years, maybe ten. I'm driving from Cleveland to New York. I've just returned from the Anarchist Convention in Toronto. I was amused at the idiocy there.
Sharing expenses and thoughts with me is Seth Tobacman. For the multitude of you who have not fully grown in your pubic hair, Seth is a writer/illustrator. He is co-editor of World War III Comics and did a book for Martin Sprouse's Pressure Drop Press. Seth called the book YOU DON'T HAVE TO FUCK PEOPLE OVER TO SURVIVE. I've known him since the late 70s. But I never knew him well.
"Mykel," says Seth, "now that you didn't like the Anarchist Convention, are you still an anarchist?"
"Me, an anarchist?" I ask. "Are you kidding? I want the government to give everyone money. How can I be an anarchist when I want government handouts?"
Seth smiles at the humor.
"What exactly IS your political philosophy then?" he asks.
"I believe in maximum civil liberties and a government that will insure people can use those liberties."
"You mean, you want personal freedom?"
"I mean real freedom." I tell him. "It's no worse to suffer the shackles of government jails than it is to suffer the shackles of hunger. The job of the moral government is to see that people suffer neither."
"Oh I see," he says, "You're a liberal."
"NO!" I shout. "Not that. Liberals are people who want to censor speech and violent movies. Liberals want to make cigarettes and pornography illegal. Liberals want to jail people who say 'girl' instead of 'woman. Oh no! I'm no liberal."
Seth smiles and shakes his head.
"Mykel, Mykel, Mykel," he says. "That's just people who call themselves liberals. Or people who others call liberals. They're not really liberal at all. You are."
I've never been one to give much credence to dictionaries. Word meanings change and dictionaries often don't get it right in the first place. But I'm so shaken by the accusation that I run for help to any place I can.
I am not helped.
Liberal: says American Heritage, Having, expressing or following views or policies that favor the freedom of individuals to act or express themselves in a manner of their own choosing...having, expressing or following social or political views or policies that favor non-revolutionary progress and reform.
Whoops! That comes too close for comfort.
That was 1980-something. Since then, I've tried to fool myself into thinking, I'm not one of them. I joke about liberals as much as the next guy. I complain about Political Correctness and feminists. I toss them all together in the great liberal swamp. Didn't Jello Biafra do a cover version of Phil Ochs' "Love Me, I'm a Liberal." He even changed the words to show that liberals were as bad in the nineties as they were in the sixties. Me? A liberal? Hah!
But then I began to realize. Most people others call liberal, don't call themselves liberals. Who does? Teddy Kennedy? That's about all in 1995. There is a Liberal party here in New York, but it's about as liberal as Newt Gingrich. They supported Gulliani for mayor!
Liberal? It's the L-word. As evil in polite company as FUCK. Worse, it's even evil in impolite company.
Realizing that liberals are universally despised gave me courage. After all, if everybody hates a particular group, they must be doing something right.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided that I could no longer hide from the truth.
So I'm with Jeff Bale, Donny The Punk, Chuck Young (the only writer for ROLLING STONE who liked punk rock BEFORE Green Day). We're having our weekly salon-- discussion group. I explain how I think there should be a guaranteed minimum wage. Everybody is entitled to it, able-bodied or not.
"What kind of whacked-out liberal idea is that, Mykel?" asks Jeff.
It's the last straw, the final blow, the end of pretending.
"I can't go I." I shout. "I've had enough. I AM a liberal. Get it A LIBERAL! I've had enough pretending. I'M A LIBERAL!!!!" I rest my head in my arms. Tears come to my eyes, as much in relief as in pain. My secret is out. I no longer have to hide.
Check the date on the cover. This isn't the April issue. This is real. I am a liberal.
Of course, I still reject the fake liberals. The antis-- smokers, booze, sex, pornography. I reject the linguistic totalitarians who demand everyone use their language and call people by what they want them called. These aren't liberals.
Everything you think about liberals is wrong. Here's the truth: Liberals are open minded. They're compassionate. They care about right and wrong-- not just economics. They look for a just society, free from coercion by the government, hunger and poverty, and by totalitarians of the left or right.
Want credentials? Wanna see how liberal I am? OK here's a NY adventure. A pair of 'em actually.
I'm with Marvin. He's white. He lives on the Upper East Side. Fancy apartment, doorman, sunken livingroom, a place where you can actually leave one room and enter another-- in the same apartment! We're going to his place to get drunk on Aas Boch beer. It's imported from Norway. Not cheap, but it's his money.
On our way, one of those limos passes us. It's not a tasteless rented limo, but a subtle, very expensive one. The windows are tinted black. As we walk down York Avenue, it follows us. I wonder what up? Marvin doesn't notice it.
Honk!
Marvin and I look back simultaneously. He smiles and raises his hands in recognition. He runs into the street and bangs on the back window. The door opens. Out comes this girl. She's about 20. Long slightly off-blonde hair. She's tanned, with fresh healthclub muscles. I'm surprised at her dress. No fancy clothes, not even an expensive jogging suit. Just jeans and a t-shirt with some French name on it.
"Julie" shouts Marvin.
"Marvin" shouts Julie.
They hug. Marvin looks over her shoulder at me. He's trying to gauge my reaction.
The two talk for awhile. Then Marvin motions for me to come over. He introduces me. We shake hands. I look at her breasts, unbraed, showing through the t-shirt. After introductions (first names only) and promises to call, Julie gets back in the limo and is driven off.
"Don't you know who that was?" asks Marvin.
I shake my head.
"That was Julie Vanderbuilt. Gloria's niece!" He expects me to be impressed. I'm not.
Fast forward two weeks. It would be more poetic if I were with Marvin, this time in my neighborhood. Unfortunately, poetry doesn't rule the world. So, I'm with Stephen, a German pal of mine.
It's about 10 o'clock. We've just left my $400 a month apartment. We walk down Bleecker Street toward CBGBs. In a particularly dark part of the street, a guy lays in a doorway. His head rests on an old book. A mess of fresh vomit jiggles on the sidewalk next to him. His down jacket is so torn and caked with filth that its impossible to tell it's original color.
A cup with some change in it sits in the doorway, protected by his body. He's not quite passed out, but certainly unable to rise to even a sitting position.
In the light from a window in the building, I can see his half open eyes. I take a quarter from my pocket and drop it in the cup.
"Thanks Mykel," says the drunk.
"Hi, Kirt," I answer, glancing over my shoulder to Stephen. I expect him to be impressed.
"That was pretty punk." he says.
I smile. But now I know that was NOT pretty punk, but pretty liberal.
The rightists hate the liberals because they... no we... won't allow them to be selfish. Their rich mom and dad or college education does not entitle them to two Mercedes when people have no shoes. Their free market isn't free if it poisons some people and works other to death.
The lefties hate the liberals because we value freedom over sensitivity. Go ahead. Use that bad word. Your right to do that is more important than any random person's right not to be offended. You want multi-culturalism? Okay, but don't take away MY culture or that of white people. We're not bad because its white.
The anarchists hate the liberals because we prefer not to make omelets if it means breaking eggs. Especially if those omelets are vague utopian ideas, some of which don't sound very utopian. We don't support killers, just because they claim to be killing people "on the other side."
(In Mexico, I saw pamphlets in support of Hamas, an Arab terrorist group, at a lefty literature table. Hamas is a fundamentalist Islamic group that believes homos should be hanged and women should wear veils. Why would lefties support them? They're against Israel and the US, of course. Makes sense. Huh?
Nietzsche once said, "The biography of a great man, if he is truly great, should not read 'So-And-So and His Times', but should read 'So-And-So against His Times'." Here, in 1995, what could be more against the times than being a liberal.
ENDNOTES:
-->Forgot last month dept: When I wrote about labels and distributors that were successful on their own terms I forgot to mention ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES. They not only do well by their bands, but are willing to take chances with bands that are way off the mainstream-- like the great NY/Japan band ULTRA BIDET. 10 points AT!
-->Speaking of previous columns dept: A few folks DID believe my April Fools prank. You know, where MTV hired me as a VJ. There's one born every minute, I guess.
The bullfight and the mugging story were true, though. Most of the endnotes were also true-- except the one about the Triple K Cafe in Baton Rouge. It was ironic that in that same issue came a letter from folks complaining about the lack of clubs in Baton Rouge. That added spice to my prank. God spreads her tricks in many ways.
-->I love scientific research dept: A recent study, done at the University of Chicago, shows that the best aphrodisiac smells to attract males are a combination of pumpkin pie and lavender. Donuts and black licorice came in at number 2 and donuts and pumpkin pie at number 3. Now where did I put that pumpkin...
-->Get off AOL dept: For some reason a lot of punk rockers and others are joining AMERICA ON-LINE. I can see taking the ten free hours, but then you should get on Panix, or Netcom or even Delphi. AOL is evil. Here are a few cases involving censorship:
(Taken from the usenet group alt.aol-sucks):
This usenet group, alt.aol-sucks, appears on AOL as "Flames and complaints about AOL." Why? Because AOL didn't like the word "sucks," right?
Nope. It's because they didn't like the content of the name. AOL didn't touch the names of five other newsgroups with 'sucks' in their name.
A newsgroup with the name alt.aol.rejects also had the AOL in its name concealed. AOL changed it to "Why We Don't Play by the Rules." Ironically, people created that newsgroup to try to get around AOL interference.
Other censorship: AOL frequently pulls messages from public posting areas. Your service can be revoked if you say certain words in public chat rooms. Anyone seeing you use such a word can page an AOL Guide. He will then appear in the room to monitor it's content.
(This has been used by homophobes who taunt gay users into using profanity, then summon a guide to get their access revoked.)
The New York Times ran a story about AOL shutting down any public chat room with "Riot Grrl" in its name.
The American Library Association felt so strongly about the issue, they reprinted the article in their newsletter, "Intellectual Freedom."
Andrew Kantor reported in Internet World that AOL even edits the results of their Gopher (general Internet) searches.
AOL's membership agreement limits what it's own members can discuss: Specifically members must not submit, publish, or display on America Online any defamatory, inaccurate, abusive, obscene, profane, sexually oriented, threatening, racially offensive, or illegal material; nor shall Member encourage the use of controlled substances.
So, folks. It's time to get off AOL and on to some REAL netstuff.
--> This year there will again be the UNDERGROUND PRESS CONFERENCE, hosted by DePaul University in Chicago. I was at the last one and glad I went, though there was plenty of room for improvement. This year I won't be able to make it, because of my plans to go to Mongolia. If YOU'RE interested in getting there, then write to: Mary Kuntz Press, PO Box 476617, Chicago IL 60647-6617 for info. Or send email to Mkunz@aol.com. Aol.com???? Jeezus!! When are the good folks gonna stop supporting that censoring sucker!
--> Back from obscurity dept: It's good to know that Roger Armstrong is back doing video distribution-- and still with some of the best Japanese and other weird stuff. He's trying to raise the bucks to get a full video/audio production facility-- mighty big thinking. You can get his catalog from: Straight Time Productions, c/o Roger Armstrong, 8546 North 108th St., Peoria AZ 85435.
--> Missing folks dept: John A, formerly(?) of MERRIL (not the stockbroker). I tried to write you but my card came back. You still in Brooklyn? Also, I sent some CDs (the $2 CD offer still goes) to Matt Lipke and "Steve" in Kirkland WA. Both packages came back. Did I have the right addresses?
--> Battle of the coasts dept: As if we needed another reason why the East coast has got it all over the West. Take the academy awards-- please. The New York Film Critics gave Pulp Fiction the best picture aware, along with best screen play. And Hollywood? Why Forest Gump, of course. The sappiest most predictable bore of the decade. But, it's a perfect barometer. If you liked Forest Gump better than Pulp Fiction, you DESERVE to be in California.
--> It must be something in the water dept: Another reason to keep away from the West Coast is the insular, back-stabbing super-gossip, PCer-than-thou attitude that has the population in its grip.
The latest example was when I checked in with my favorite BBS's, COOL BEANS. (Have your modem call 415-648-7865 to join.) Someone on the internet PUNK-LIST complained about the buckaroos in PANSEY DIVISION. They said that the group was getting a big head after touring with GREEN DAY.
I found that hard to believe. I've known PD's John Ginoli since 1977 when I took pictures for his High School punk zine. The guys have always been nice and have gone out of their way to treat people well. Maybe they had a bad day and were in a bad mood once. That's happened to all of us.
So I call into COOL BEANS and see messages posted on the QUEER subboard about PANSEY DIVISION. What better place to check out the facts? These guys know the group. They can get the info right from the horses mouth.
I post a message saying what I just told you.
The answers:
"How dare you accuse Pansey Division of becoming big headed?"
"You're sly, in the way you can make your accusations, aren't you?"
"You love spreading false rumors." "We know your tricks!"
So I figure something in the water must cause that paranoia. My advice: Get out now! While you still have a chance. What? You say you never hurt anyone? What exactly did you MEAN by that?
-->Wow dept: Beth Johnson is getting the kind of mail I dream about. Tim won't let me comment on the content of her column, but with that kind of response... congratulations!
--> New channels dept: I love it when more alternatives to MTV come around. Now there's a new music TV cable distribution company that's trying to get indie music into those hotel channels. You would usually turn them for Rear Entry or The Young and the Hung. Now they'll offer more.
This is national distribution and plenty of touring bands and other cool folks end up in hotel rooms. (They're not just for business, you know.) Anyway, you can get more information from Curtis at 1-800-489-0877. I don't know the deal, but you might wanna check it out and report back.
--> Question of the week dept: At a recent MRR fanclub meeting, someone called me and the Rev Norb, "The Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern of punk."
What I wanna know is who's who? Am I Rush Limbaugh because I'm older and use reasoned arguments, while Norb rants like Howard Stern? Or, am I Howard Stern because I talk about sex a lot? And Norb is Rush Limbaugh because he talks about 'fags' and evil females. Answers, and personal sex videos, to me at: PO Box 137, Prince St. Station, New York NY 10012. My email address remains: mykel@wps.com.
-end-
