YOU'RE WRONG 

An Irregular Column

NOTE TO EMAIL/WEBSITE READERS. I shortened this column by two ENDNOTES in order to meet new MRR length requirements. Those endnotes are in brackets at the end.

[Note because of new MRR length rules, I can't include as many endnotes as I like. You can get the cut ones at my website www.freeyellow.com/members2/seidboard/. Since I'm leaving for the Orient in a few days, I don't have time to right a full- fledged hung-like-a-horse column. I'll use the extra space to catch up on some endnotes.]

I'm madder than a choirboy with anal warts. I've been out drinking with A. and M. A. is a Canukian Indian beauty that I've been boffing for the past few years. M. is an Oriental pal from the land of Kimonos and Tamagochi. We're at my place. Push is about to come to shove. The three of us lie, clothed and bare footed, on my bed. Two! Count 'em TWO tonight. Yeah. Mentally, I click into TWO mode. I drape an arm around A. Snuggle up. Press against the back in front of me. Nothing happens. My sleeping soldier forgets there's an important mission to accomplish. I stretch my body. My naked foot touches M.'s naked foot. Pop! Boing! That Vienna sausage plumps right to well- done.

A. presses back against me. I press ahead harder. I also push my foot harder behind me, toes against the other naked feet. I wait for M. to reach over and start doing me from behind. Instead, that foot pulls away, breaking the contact. Slump! I droop to no go.

A. and I struggle with each others clothes. As I turn, I make sure M. is watching us. Better than that, M.'s pants snap lies open with a Japanese hand reaching down between those Japanese legs. Whoop! I'm as hard as a calculus exam. A., naked from the waist down. Me, completely bare in my hairiness. I begin to nibble on two of my favorite nipples. Then, it's time to pay the piper. To milk the cow. To devenom the snake.

M. turns over. Away from A. and I. Blam! My little friend falls. Plunges. More Niagra than Viagra. Limp, useless. That's it for the night.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to A., "I must've had too much to drink."

The next morning, A. lies next to me, dressed. I awake in my usual state. I unzip A. and reach in diddle. "Uh, uh, oh oh oh, aahhh." That's it. Now A. reaches over and strokes my pickled tree twig. M. watches.

Watching M. watching us, my sapling hardens as the sap runs through the trunk.

"Rainbow!" yells M., when I step into the land of milk and honey.

"No, don't wipe it up!" I whisper. "Just let it sit and drip."

What happened that night and morning? Am I such an exhibitionist that I NEED a watching third party? I don't think so. I certainly do it myself often enough. In private, with the curtains drawn. It's not that.

The situationists wrote about our "society of the spectacle." Here people don't participate directly. We appreciate art, but don't make it. We're entertained, but don't entertain. We agree, but don't form our own opinions. As the situationists see it, technology (and capitalism) have separated us from our own lives. Their analysis says we don't live directly, but through a voyeuristic taking part in something or someone else. The spectacle lives in the popularity of internet porno sites, The National Enquirer, TV, professional sports, museums, and stadium rock shows. You could say that people's lives are filled with adventures and creativeness that come from outside. If that's the case, then I'm a situationist poster boy. When I go to Mount Rushmore, or The Grand Canyon, I'm more interested in the postcards, snowglobes, and fridge magnets than in the site itself. I spent hours in the gift shop, and only a few minutes marvelling at the view. Even those few minutes, I look through a camera lens.

I'd rather email a friend than speak to her over the phone. Sexually, I'm more aroused watching my sexcapades on a videotape than I am during the sex itself.

Up to here, the situationists seem to be right. But they're missing something. That is, the same technology that makes the spectacle, lets the spectators be part of it.

I'd rather be on stage than watching a band. Spoken-word bores the shit out of me, unless it's me speaking. K and I used to ball on the roof. M (another M), lets me keep the curtains open when we screw. If I have a choice, I'll BE the spectacle. it. Later, I love watching myself being the spectacle. That the spectator spectating his own spectacle.

The spectacle is a machine. Input and output. The situationists focus only on one side. Only watching the watchers. What about the performers? And, what if the performers are also the watchers?

S&M fans know about switching. Most start as masochs then move across the ladder from whippee to whipper. The same way a spectator can, if she chooses, move into the spectacle. The voyeur becomes the exhibitionist. Fucking, then jerking off to videos of yourself fucking, is no different from painting a picture and hanging it in your own room.

It doesn't stop creativity. It sparks it. You watch. You fantasize based on what you see. You create those fantasies while others watch, changing subtly, improving, creating. Others see. They change, Make something new. The spiral moves ever upward. There's nothing wrong with a society of spectacle, provided the spectator and spectacle are the same people.

ENDNOTES [Note because of new MRR length rules, I can't include as many endnotes as I'd like. You can get the complete column from my website http//www.freeyellow.com/members2/seidboard/.]

I was wrong dept Almost ten years ago, before many MRR readers were born, I wrote about how great New York was. I called it inherent anarchy. Copenhagen and Amsterdam are free, I wrote. But they're free only because freedom is tolerated. New York is free, I said, because no one can control it.

I was wrong. New York sucks! And New Yorkers suck even harder. They're wimps. Wussies. Balless yellowbacks. Just flash a nightstick, add a little PR bribery, and they're yours. Right now, people gripe about Mayor Mussolini supporting cops shoving plungers up Haitian asses. Yet what are they doing? Is there a Copwatch here? General strikes? A letter writing campaign? New York's ethnic minorities crumple like a shot squeegee man.

The Chinese? The mayor bans fireworks on Chinese New Year. Bang! The Chinese roll over and play dead. They shot off fireworks a thousand years before New York existed. And they give it up with barely a whimper. No fireworks? Ah soo! Anything you say, Mr. Mayor.

Cab drivers? Cabbies now have to buy new cars every five years. If a passenger smokes in your cab, YOU have to pay a $150 fine-- even if you ask the passenger to put it out and she refuses. There are other new rules, even worse. What do the drivers do? A one day strike! One day! You can find the cabbies' balls in the lost-not-found department at the taxi commission.

The Italians? Every year, there's a street festival, celebrating Saint Genaro. The mayor says no more games of chance. No more throw the hoop or spin the wheel. It's gambling, he says. That could bring in the mafia. We wouldn't want the mafia at an Italian festival, would we? Roll over, Itals. Just serve your canoli and shut up.

Homos? Close the clubs, prohibit dancing ONLY in gay bars. It's all ok, because there's a domestic partnership bill. Now homos, too, can live a life of dual chains. Whoopie! You won't hear a squeal of complaint from them.

Negroes? Punks? Hispanics? Hardly a peep. Just roll over and play dead.

The only folks with balls are the mom of Anthony Baez (killed by a cop), Norman Seigel of the NYCLU, Rev. Al Sharpton, and Rev. Calvin Butz (sometimes). One unknown, a Jew, and two Christian ministers. You know a city has sunk pretty low when the only people fighting are clerics!

--> Save the whales... then eat em dept Dave, an email correspondent sent me the following information. I've edited it a bit.

The local SPCA (San Diego?) is run by some militant animal rights people. When you go to the pound for a pet cat, you have to fill out a detailed questionnaire that lets them determine if you are proper enough to deserve a pet of theirs. One of the things they ask, is whether your house is on a busy street, fenced, and if you're willing to keep the cat indoors all the time. They don't want to give cats to people who might let them be hit by a passing car. They don't seem to care that cats like being outdoors. Meanwhile, they have way more cats than people who want to adopt them. They kill the extra cats all the time. The bottom line is that they would rather kill a cat than give it to someone who might let the cat be killed by a car. Go figure. This reminds me of animal rightists who put down countries like Mexico and Thailand. Those places don't kill their strays. They let 'em roam free to forage or die. The animists call those countries "cruel." Death, of course, is more humane. Who asked the animals?

--> Too bad I missed it dept Though I'm not an atheist, it sure sounds like fun A FESTIVAL OF ATHEISTS lead by the Rev. Joey Shithead and his DOA band of atheists. Two other bands, DOG EAT DOGMA and VICTORIA'S PIGMENT VEHICLE joined in the project. The project was to last from Sept 26 to October 31. A multi- city pro-atheist tour. Unfortunately, as soon as the bands assembled for the tour, lightening struck out of nowhere, killing all members. Then came a great earthquake. The ground opened up. All equipment, corpses and traces of the crew were swallowed in one fell swoop.

--> They know they're bad dept There is a Federal law called The Uniform Commercial Code. It provides states with guidelines for warranties. Until recently, this code forbade vendors from taking away consumer rights in the fine print of their contracts. A proposed revision, Article 2B, exempts software companies. Under its terms, they can write up any contract they want including one that forbids you from suing them for damages. All they have to do is print a warning in small letters on the outside of their packages.

Time to write your representative.

--> Did George mention this already dept Matt, from the NY DICK ARMY writes asking for help. He reports that Dawn Black, the guitar player from YUM YUM TREE, was mugged on her way home from work. Someone slashed her with a bottle, cut her face open, and severed a nerve and artery in her left hand. Her left eye was also seriously damaged. She's hospitalized at Bellview. I expect the cops, at the time, were shooting squeegee men or shoving plungers up Haitian asses.

In any case, Dawn has no health insurance and no way to pay for all the treatment she'll need.

This is where you come in. Matt wants like to hear from anyone out there who can help set up benefit shows. Also, let him know if your willing to play at the shows.

He's also working on a benefit CD. The contribution of tracks by anyone receiving this message would be appreciated. Obviously, the bigger the bands involved (Ben, Joey, Norb?) the quicker they can sell them and the more money they can raise. Matt would also like to hear from people with labels or distros that could help to get rid of the thing (VML?/Recess?/MRR?/Bulge?, Etc.) Let him know what you can do to help You can call him at (718) 832-3989. For those of you wanting to send flowers or whatever, Dawn is in room 7N50, Bellview Hospital. NYC, NY.

--> Time to move to England? dept The British House of Commons voted overwhelmingly to lower the age of consent for homosexuals to 16.

The motion was supported by Prime Minister Tony Blair, William Hague, the leader of the opposition Conservatives, and Paddy Ashdown, the head of Britain's third major party, the Liberal Democrats. The Church of England opposed the change. The only serious dispute centered on an amendment to make it an illegal for adults in charge of youngsters under 18 to have sex with them. Parliament defeated the amendment.

Nicholas Winterton, a Conservative, was disappointed in the results. He said, "If the Lord Almighty had meant men to commit sodomy with other men, their bodies would have been built differently." Anybody got any design ideas?

(Late note, don't move yet It appears the British upper house, the House of Lords, has defeated this bill. I don't know for sure. Please email updates to me at MykelB@ix.netcom.com.)

--> The same job for 2000 years dept Prostitution has always been called "The World's Oldest Profession," but I never believed it. What about that guy who paid the first prostitute? How'd HE get his money? THAT must be the world's oldest profession. Anyway, a bi-list member emailed me this archeological note, taken from The Guardian

The first home of the world's oldest profession could not be better placed. From a dank, dark world four feet below the ground, Salonika's 2,000-year-old brothel faces a wig shop and a bus station, and looks on to the biggest and busiest square in northern Greece.

At first nothing gave the ancient sex shop away-- not even during extensive excavation of the exquisite Roman forum under which it nestles. Nothing, that is, until archaeologists began unearthing all manner of sex toys in a find that made the most outrageous romp on the most explicit classical Greek vase seem tame.

Among the rich pickings were a clay dildo, several erotic figurines and a red pitcher with a phallic spout. Innumerable offerings to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, were also dug up. But I say, just 'cause they found this, doesn't mean it's "the first home." Lotsa prosties take pains not to leave artifacts lying around. You never know which archaeologists are working undercover.

--> It ain't what you got that makes you who you are dept A buncha people wrote me about a recent endnote. There was a "guy" who was circumcised "too far." He went on to live, in grooved bliss, as a woman. The writers said this was not correct. Some enclosed articles, including a long one from Rolling Stone! (What MRR reader reads Rolling Stone?). These reports tell about a too- clipped guy who was extremely UNHAPPY to be raised as a girl. Was I wrong? Not this time. These are TWO different cases. The one I wrote about is the second. Scientists were extremely interested in it because it contradicted the first. Here's my take on it:

Plenty of folks don't like things about their body. Some feel they're too small, fat, bald, hairy, wrinkly, and wrong gendered. Reasons vary, but most come from either trying to match a social image-- or trying to get laid.

You can find the desire to be a man in both biological women and "accidental" women. So it's not strange that an accidental woman should want to be a man. What IS strange (if you believe that biology determines gender), is that another accidental woman is perfectly happy as a woman. If biological gender were involved, this wouldn't happen.

--> More help needed dept My pal Masayo, singer/guitar player for THE STALLIONS and THE PLUNGERS needs a green card. In order to get i,t she needs fanmail. This won't cost you more than a stamp! Just write a letter about how good she and her band are. Send it to THE PLUNGERS, PO Box 205, Canal St. Station, NYC 10013. Or via email to fwab@interport.net. Do it now!

[--> They know they're bad dept There is a Federal law called The Uniform Commercial Code. It provides states with guidelines for warranties. Until recently, this code forbade vendors from taking away consumer rights in the fine print of their contracts. A proposed revision, Article 2B, exempts software companies. Under its terms, they can write up any contract they want including one that forbids you from suing them for damages. All they have to do is print a warning in small letters on the outside of their packages.

Time to write your representative.

--> Can you really win? dept Remember the Negativland scandal I wrote about last month. In that case, the evil Recording Industry Association of America went to a CD pressing plant with veiled threats about the Neggies sampling. The plant, afraid of a lawsuit, did not press their CD. RIAA guidelines warned against lawsuits for ALL sampling. The didn't mentioning "fair use" rules which exempt small samples used in a creative new way.

After a long anti-RIAA campaign, the industry giant is bending-- a bit. Negativland fans and the music press put pressure on the RIAA. Their new rules read:

These guidelines are intended to address piracy. Some recordings presented for manufacture may contain-- as part of an artist's work-- identifiable "samples" or small pieces of other artists' well-known songs. In some instances this sampling may qualify as "fair use" under copyright law, and in other instances it may constitute copyright infringement. There are no hard and fast rules in this area and judgments on both "fair use" and indemnification must be made on a case-by-case basis. RIAA, therefore, recommends that you decide how to handle such situations in consultation with your own attorneys.

Not great, but a slight improvement. More important, it shows that folks can make a difference-- with corporations. They can't afford to loose customers. Government, on the other hand, CAN afford to loose customers. After all, if you don't like it, just try to take your business elsewhere.

[Thanks to John Heisel for the info. You can find out more from Negativland's website www.negativland.com. Remember, there's no final "e" in Negativ!]

--> Adding irony to (partial) victory dept John also sent me this tidbit. Negativland is apparently having music its "own" music, used in a Coke commercial. No one asked them for permission. Adding irony, Negetivland sampled that music from a right-wing Christian propaganda record. The path is circuitous, but hilarious. You can find the details of the copyright infringement... er... fair use at the Negativland website.]

--Mykel (mykelB@ix.netcom.com)

http://www.freeyellow.com/members2/seidboard/

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