tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90601786703182976202024-02-19T08:41:20.130-08:00Greg Mitchell's MusingsA disparate set of ramblings from a gay man who has been around, and done most things, I've been an actor, singer, dancer and model, and now I'm a writer and tantric masseur. As I get older, there's one tenet I live by. If you want to do something, then do it, because tomorrow may be too late.
Most of my writing is also viewable on www.thegayuk.comGregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-28838556180948946172017-05-27T04:23:00.000-07:002018-01-10T05:29:02.832-08:00Love moves in mysterious waysSome of you will have noticed that the person you know as Greg Mitchell doesn't post so much on here these days, and that his activity, both on Facebook and Twitter, has considerably died down. Some of you might also be aware that Greg Mitchell is a persona, the name I adopted for the adult entertainment side of my life, a part of my life that is gradually coming to an end. Though I continue to offer my services as a tantric masseur, I have pretty much retired from the adult world (the porn, the escorting and the modelling) to return to what I used to do. Admittedly tantric massage is on the peripheries of that adult world, but everything else has stopped, and I have to admit that I would probably not be as good at what I do now without my previous experiences in looking after people in a slightly different way.<br />
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My recent silence is directly attributable to something that happened just over two years ago now, when I met someone and truly fell in love. When I say truly, this might be because it's the first time I've really understood what it is to completely love someone; to love every wonderful, crazy part of them, and to know that I am truly loved in return.<br />
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I am not going to divulge who the object of my affections is, because he is an intensely private person who mistrusts technology and the internet, even though he is almost 30 years my junior. Those who know the real me know who he is, and that is enough for me.</div>
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When I first met my partner, I believed I was happy being single and I believed that I would probably remain so for the rest of my life. After all, I was over 60, set in my ways and just not looking. But there was a yawning emptiness in the centre of my life which I didn't, or wouldn't, acknowledge. I felt dead inside, and I began to wonder if I would, or could, ever really <i>feel</i> something again. I don't mean this in any fatalistic sense. I wasn't depressed, and I certainly wasn't suicidal. I just had a sort of calm acceptance of what the rest of my life would be. Maybe that in itself was a kind of happiness.<br />
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But then my partner came along. We first saw each other at XXL over 5 years ago, and I can remember quite specifically the moment. My best friend noticed it too. "See that young guy over there. He <i>really</i> likes you!" But I was being Mr Sensible that night. I was tired and I decided to go home.<br />
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After that he cropped up on various dating sites at fairly spaced out intervals (I later found out this was because he was working abroad and was only occasionally in London), but the time was never right, and each time he asked to meet me, I wasn't available. However he was not one to give up easily, and, just over two years ago now, having relocated back to the UK, he got in touch again. Serendipitously I just happened to have two VIP tickets to a friend's birthday celebration, and I asked him if he would like to come with me. We've hardly spent more than a few days apart since.<br />
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I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do remember that shining, smiling face in the crowd at XXL, and that sense of regret when I got home. Little did I know that that night sealed my destiny. <br />
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There is nothing idealistic about the love I feel now, by the way. We have not been living in a state of continuous bliss. There has been rough as well as smooth. How could it be otherwise? My partner is funny, amazingly creative (probably the most creative person I've ever met), and sometimes just bat shit crazy. He is massively intelligent (genius IQ), and delights in solving the unsolvable. He excels at just about everything he sets his mind to, whether it's sport or inventing things or training dogs. Living with him is not always easy, but living with a genius was never going to be easy. <br />
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Before I met him, my flat was, if I'm honest, a terrible living space, and no reflection of the person I am. Over the years, I had completely neglected it. I hated it, felt embarrassed to invite people into it, knew it needed a major makeover, but didn't know where to start. My partner has completely changed it, but not just into a perfect designer image. His genius was to make it a space that reflected my personality and my own creativity. We had no budget, so almost everything in the place has been upcycled. He has created bookshelves out of cheese boxes and made CD storage into a work of art. The desk I am writing this on is made from half a wooden table and motorbike exhaust pipes, the table top covered with pages from the programmes of some of the shows we've seen together. Everywhere you look there are little quirks, like a hand bursting through the wall holding a large clock in the shape of a padlock, a tower of CDs being held up by a tiny strong man, crannies for plants among the book boxes. <br />
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Nor are we finished yet. The bathroom is next on the agenda. The light fitting is an inverted rainbow umbrella, the shower curtain displays a rainforest on the inside and a beautiful beach scene on the other. The walls are to be covered in colourful maps of the world. The kitchen is to have an apothecary theme. He is not really one for words, but, in all this, he has shown me how much he loves me.<br />
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Best of all, my Christmas present last year was a magnificent large painting of my father, which he created in a flash of inspiration in 48 hours. My father died, at the age of 47, when I was 18, but he has been a huge influence on my life, and not a day goes by when I don't regret his early death. This painting of him is the best Christmas present I've ever had. In an ingenious twist, it hides the TV, sliding up to reveal it on the rare occasions we sit down and watch it.<br />
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But here is the thing, and something some of my friends have not understood. Though our relationship can veer with startling suddenness from the harmonious to the tempestuous, though there have been times when I have wondered momentarily if I was better off single, I actually feel alive again. I am <i>feeling</i> again. Sometimes the feelings are painful, but most of the time they're the opposite; and surely feeling <i>something</i> is better than feeling nothing at all. It can certainly be said that he has turned my life upside down, but that's not a bad thing. A life that was becoming rather grey is now full of vibrant colour. <br />
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He has reawakened my dreams, and given me the permission to dream again. I've gone back to dancing, re-discovered many of my friends from my theatre days, and realised how much I missed that life. <br />
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We share an antipathy for this new world that we live in, a world in which liberal has become a dirty word, intellectuals are derided and experts ignored, where anything that departs from the norm is suspect, and creativity, in so many walks of life, at an all time low. <br />
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Truth be told, he is a little bit weird, but then so am I, so is anyone who is creative. He has reminded me that I like weird people, and that I feel most comfortable around them. He has reminded me that it is the weird people who give us hope, that it is the weird people who will change the world. Furthermore, he has made me realise I am so much more than Greg Mitchell, the character I invented when I started doubting myself. As I start to believe in myself again, then Greg can start to fade away.<br />
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I still provide a tantric massage service, and I will continue to practice under the name of Greg Mitchell, for that is the name most of my clients know me by, but the other Greg Mitchell is ready to retire and let the real me take centre stage again.<br />
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-15319865917171625042017-01-15T06:34:00.001-08:002017-01-15T06:58:21.565-08:00Will we ever be truly equal?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yesterday I decided to have a sauna after my gym workout. I'm suffering a bit from osteoarthritis in my left hand, and had read that dry saunas could offer relief. There was only one other person in the sauna, a very overweight Indian guy of indeterminate age, though, as he mentioned that his father was my age, I'm assuming he was in his 30s. We started chatting, just small talk, and then he asked me if had any children.<br />
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"No," I said.<br />
"Married?" "No."<br />
"Why you not married?" he asked.<br />
"So far I never wanted to get married," I replied.<br />
"You gay?"<br />
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And there it was, that moment when I considered briefly evading the issue, not telling the truth. Why? Because I was worried about his reaction? I've been out to friends and family for the best part of 40 years now. You'd think I wouldn't have a problem anymore, but still there was the briefest of pauses (and it really annoys me) before I replied,<br />
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"Yes".<br />
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He was a little taken aback. <br />
"In my country you would be shot," he grunted.<br />
"And if you did that in my country, the one you're in at the moment, you'd go to prison - for a very long time."<br />
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He accepted that with equanimity and oddly enough the conversation didn't end there. By his own admission he was pretty uneducated, and I ended up giving him a short history lesson about the Second World War. (He thought the Nazis were Jewish and American!) The question of my sexuality was soon forgotten. When my time was up and I headed for the shower, he wished me well and that was that.<br />
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However, afterwards I pondered my hesitance in telling him I was gay. It bothered me. Haven't we, haven't I, moved on from the attitudes of previous generations? After all, in this country, and quite a few others around the world now, we can even get married. Surely we've reached a stage in society where one can reveal one's sexuality without fear of reproval. <br />
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Well only recently, our new right wing, UKIP influenced, Tory government voted to block compulsory LGBT-inclusive sex education. Religious sensibilities, it seems, are more important than teaching children it's ok to be gay, more important than tackling the bullying so many LGBT children suffer on a daily basis. So we haven't come that far since Section 28 after all. It might be legal for us to get married now, but let's not talk about it, or at least if we do, only in the abstract. The fact that LGBT couples actually have sex is something we'd rather not think about.<br />
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As a hard Brexit becomes increasingly likely, as the UK isolates itself more and more from the rest of Europe, and as the UK removes itself from the jurisdiction of the European Court of Justice, then we will need to be ever alert to the possibility that freedoms so recently won can be taken away. Look at what's happening in the USA. Trump isn't even in the White House yet, but already steps are being taken to repeal the Affordable Care Act, and millions who were given hope will now be left without any form of health insurance.<br />
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We are living in a different world now from the one I thought I lived in, a post truth world. Liberal is now a dirty word. Intellectuals and experts are mistrusted, education (in the old sense of acquiring knowledge) derided, and ignorance applauded, and, in this climate, maybe it isn't so strange that I should mark that slight pause before acknowledging my sexuality.<br />
<br />GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-2296923344841393552016-06-16T10:22:00.000-07:002016-06-16T10:22:00.530-07:00Authentic tantric massage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdsmGipWXkL-kEAX2htFzz5ljwrAjSFEajdgJE23x6f1UgnrD9Mmax-oy0hfPjKXuRmrlxkaUFpNzEUrvAq3j9uT22CqNxOOO1bms1F_PqWHA09HZ-gSXUO7liORD2kHIbmw_sWRQUAVo/s1600/CD127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdsmGipWXkL-kEAX2htFzz5ljwrAjSFEajdgJE23x6f1UgnrD9Mmax-oy0hfPjKXuRmrlxkaUFpNzEUrvAq3j9uT22CqNxOOO1bms1F_PqWHA09HZ-gSXUO7liORD2kHIbmw_sWRQUAVo/s400/CD127.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Since I started offering tantric erotic massage around five
years ago now, there has been a proliferation of glossy ads on the internet
offering what professes to be tantric massage, but I wonder how many of these
are offering a genuine experience. How many are providing a straightforward
massage with a quick hand job at the end, and how many are offering other
sexual services that have little to do with tantra and the spiritual? I wonder
because I used to offer such services myself, and because I know that what I do
now is very different from what I used to do when I was escorting. </div>
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So what is tantric massage, and what might a new client
expect? Well Tantra, in its purest form, goes back to at least the 8<sup>th</sup>
century. In its original form it is a
mystical pathway, an accumulation of practices that have in common extensive
use of ritual and of psycho-experiential techniques such as yoga,
visualisation, and meditation. In its modern form, Tantra has a slightly
different meaning, referring to both new age and modern western interpretations
of traditional Tantra, brought forward by pioneers of the so-called Neo-tantra
since the 1970s. These teachings consider sex as a sacred act which is capable
of elevating its participants to a higher spiritual plane. They all show how
sexual energy can be transformed into ecstatic experiences. To reach this aim,
they offer a wide range of techniques, containing elements originating from
fields such as bodywork, breath work, yoga, and meditation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In short tantra is,
or can be, the perfect fusion of spirituality and sexual energy. Recipients of
tantric massage have been known to have full body orgasms without actually
ejaculating (ejaculation and orgasm are not the same thing, though one usually
accompanies the other). This is when each of the seven chakras in our body
vibrates at the same time, and can only happen when the recipient totally
commits to the experience they are being offered, not as easy as it sounds. </div>
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I can’t of course guarantee that this will happen to every
single one of my clients, as, in essence, I act as a facilitator, but I can
guarantee that you will feel nurtured, healed and rejuvenated. I create the environment
and setting in which such circumstances are possible.</div>
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For this reason, I only work from home, because atmosphere
is extremely important, and that means a nurturing space that the client can
walk into. I like to make sure that the room is properly prepared; warm enough
to feel comfortable naked, with soft candlelight and my choice of music playing
(music is a very important part of the massage). </div>
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Preparing the client for what is to follow is also very
important, so you will not immediately be asked to take your clothes off and
get on the table. We will have a brief chat about what and what not to expect.
I will check on your personal boundaries, and get a better picture of what you
are looking for. We will then, whilst still clothed, do a few simple breathing
exercises together, which help to relax both of us, and also create a
connection between us. We then undress each other before I invite you to get
onto the massage table. From now on the key is to <i>allow </i>yourself to be taken care of. Nothing is expected of you, and
though you may touch and hold me, you are not expected to reciprocate in any
way. Just lie back and let me take care of you. Give in to the sensation of
touch, wherever that touch may be. It is incredible how even the simple touch
of hand on arm can have an erotic charge.</div>
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For premium customers I also offer digital internal prostate
massage, which, aside from being very pleasurable, helps keep the prostate
healthy and can help prevent prostate cancer. </div>
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So, yes, there is a world of difference between authentic
tantric massage, and what many out there are offering. In the words of Joseph
Kramer of Body Electric,</div>
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<i>"The difference
between a hand job and Taoist Erotic Massage is the difference between banging
on a piano or playing Mozart." <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Come and experience Mozart. More details on my website <a href="http://www.sensualself.co.uk/">http://www.sensualself.co.uk</a>.</div>
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You can also see some of my client testimonials on <a href="https://rentmasseur.com/GregMitchell/reviews/">Rentmasseur</a> and at <a href="http://www.masseurfinder.com/gregmitchell">http://www.masseurfinder.com/gregmitchell</a>.</div>
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If you’d like to check out a movie of me giving a tantric
massage then try the <a href="http://www.sensualmassagemovies.com/therapists/greg/">Sensual Massage
Movies</a> website.</div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-8298047275440341892016-01-12T06:11:00.003-08:002016-01-12T06:11:49.003-08:00David Bowie's Cat People<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in 1982, I was in Zoo, the dance troupe which replaced Legs and Co (which in turn had replaced Pan's People) on Top of the Pops. We danced (or rather clambered around on a climbing frame) to David Bowie's Cat People. I loved the track (and still do). This is the Giorgio Moroder version. It was a different take from the one that appeared on his contemporaneous "Let's Dance" album.<br />
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There have been so many wonderfully eloquent tributes to Bowie over the last couple of days, that I feel anything I say will be superfluous. For me he is one the giants of the music world. His passing is an event of the magnitude of those of John Lennon, of Elvis Presley and of Maria Callas. A legend in his own lifetime, and now a legend for all time, he produced quality music for 50 years and his latest album, which can now only be seen as valedictory, is yet another classic.<br />
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Great artists do not die, and Bowie is no exception.<br />
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<br />GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-88660049862417773012015-11-30T13:42:00.000-08:002015-11-30T13:42:29.816-08:00A lusciously sensual Under Milk Wood<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.4px;"><i>My review of this film adaptation of Dylan Thomas's Under Milk Wood first appeared in <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a> in October 2015.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
studied Dylan Thomas’s “Under Milk Wood”
for my English A Level, rather more years ago now than I choose to mention and
it came as quite a surprise to me to realise that I still remembered, almost
word for word the narrator’s first long speech, beautifully spoken here by Rhys
Ifans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Under Milk
Wood” is really an extended dramatic poem for voices. It was first conceived as
a radio play, commissioned by the BBC in 1954, with Richard Burton voicing the
narrator. Later it was turned into a stage play, and there is at least one
previous film (1972) with Burton reprising his narrator role, and with such
luminaries as Elizabeth Taylor, Peter O’Toole and Glynis Johns amongst the
cast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Whilst
remaining absolutely true to Thomas’s original text, the screenplay of this new
film, brings out more than any I’ve seen or heard, the sheer earthy, lascivious
and hilariously funny filthiness of Thomas’s dreamscape, a true celebration of
the joys of sex. Only most of the sex in this story takes place in people’s
minds, their fantasies and desires brought out in full, luscious technicolour
glory. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The film looks superb, for which director of photography Andy Hollis
deserves enormous credit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Director
Kevin Allen has at his disposal an excellent cast of Welsh actors, many of them
faces well-known from TV, all perfect for their roles. Rhys Ifans, who also
doubles as Captain Cat, is quite as effective as Richard Burton in his long
opening speech, his accent, though perfectly intelligible, just that bit more
Welsh, where Burton, targeting a 1950s audience, slightly Anglicised his tones.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-N9VYc1AIAt2LOlr5LfmBitW-jG3Af7HZB_WFMsUOIZPAmtQgxGf09zttdt9vufBRJ08cAmtUULOZUeZwXK3SIN3yQoA8-C64RMQZbmg2iB4JmVp4bjRaI4nXugvx3G9EeMX4fHGJvRX/s1600/JS74228330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-N9VYc1AIAt2LOlr5LfmBitW-jG3Af7HZB_WFMsUOIZPAmtQgxGf09zttdt9vufBRJ08cAmtUULOZUeZwXK3SIN3yQoA8-C64RMQZbmg2iB4JmVp4bjRaI4nXugvx3G9EeMX4fHGJvRX/s640/JS74228330.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Charlotte
Church, making a very successful screen debut, is cast as Polly Garter. She has
a plump, rounded, wholesome sexiness that is absolutely perfect for the fertile
baby machine, that the rest of the village like to gossip about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ultimately,
though, the film is also about loss; loss of community, loss of a way of life. Captain
Cat is old and dying and his demise is symbolic of the death of the village
Llareggub (Bugger All spelt backwards). There hangs over the film a purveying
sense of nostalgia for a time that never waa. Gritty realism is swept away with
a click of the camera, and for 85 minutes we can escape into a world of dreams
and fantasy. I enjoyed it immensely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">4 stars<o:p></o:p></span></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-89671640054548812052015-10-07T01:53:00.003-07:002015-10-07T01:53:59.879-07:00We Need PrEP And We Need It Now<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMSNScNYrVuh2bmtQtHACxWoDbGPoaBNmL9XiaO6mKxhiMsr5XdxEgL_0GC0bu01ND9KgBkRVuhf0dHXrVOd3zT9v8Z5kDKtSN3XFA-mYwnWDSZrAFxMrA7EWpnDPTgIaSlDo9fBZMZHh/s1600/11219598_776341725817349_5475945972450471416_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMSNScNYrVuh2bmtQtHACxWoDbGPoaBNmL9XiaO6mKxhiMsr5XdxEgL_0GC0bu01ND9KgBkRVuhf0dHXrVOd3zT9v8Z5kDKtSN3XFA-mYwnWDSZrAFxMrA7EWpnDPTgIaSlDo9fBZMZHh/s640/11219598_776341725817349_5475945972450471416_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>This is a transcript of a speech I recently gave in Edinburgh to HIV Scotland. I am hoping that much of the slut shaming I had to deal with when I first went onto PrEP is dying out, but experience tells me that there is still quite a bit of it out there. It's time we just accepted that there is nothing shameful about wanting to have sex without condoms, and that we can do it without risking getting HIV. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Ok. I’m not a medical professional or a scientist. I
am simply someone who is on the PROUD study in England, and I’m here because I
believe passionately in PrEP.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to talk about what being on PrEP has meant to me personally,
and also about how people – friends, family, and the community in general –
have reacted to the news that I am on PrEP.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So first some background. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never even heard of PrEP until November
of 2013, when one of the nurses at the WMP suggested it to me. I’ve always
believed in total honesty about my sexual encounters when visiting a clinic,
and, though I hadn’t realised it or admitted it to myself, it seemed my
behaviour was becoming more risky, enough for me to fit into that at-risk group
that would definitely benefit from taking PrEP. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I talked it through with my best friend, who
has been on Truvada as part of anti-retroviral treatment for a few years now,
and decided it was something I’d like to try. I then applied, was accepted and
was delighted when I was put onto PrEP straight away, not into the deferred
group that they had at that time. It was all very quick and I’ve now been on
PrEP for almost two years. I can honestly say I had no side effects, apart from
some vivid dreams the first week or so.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Physically then, the
effect was minimal, or negligible. But how about the psychological effects?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well at first nothing much changed, but, as it gradually
began to dawn on me, that I was protected from HIV, a cloud started to lift. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, I’m a product of the pre AIDS generation. When I
came out there was no HIV, or at least we didn’t know about it. I’m one of the
lucky ones. I didn’t die and I remained HIV negative, obviously or I wouldn’t
be on PrEP. How I got here is no doubt down to a little judgement and a lot of
luck, and I mean a lot of luck. Statistically I should be a statistic. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in the 80s the fear of AIDS stopped me having sex
completely for quite a while. Fear of death does that to you and those were
scary times. But once I did start having sex again, for the first time in my
life, I started using condoms. I hated them. Sex didn’t feel so good anymore,
but if you wanted to stay alive, there was no alternative. Sex had become a
dangerous business. I mean people I knew were dying. If you didn’t see someone
for a while, you hardly dared ask what might have happened to them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t get tested. In those days a positive diagnosis was
tantamount to a death sentence. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were
even told that the mere knowledge that one was positive could be enough to
precipitate a downturn in one’s health. So I worried. I fretted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember I panicked about it so much that at
one point I even started suffering from night sweats. There was nothing wrong
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And anyway, at that time, what was
the point knowing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But closing my mind
off like that also meant that I remained ignorant of the advances in HIV treatments
as they happened. Then, in 2001, a very close friend of mine died. He was
admitted to hospital with pneumonia. He had never been tested for HIV and by
the time pneumonia took hold he had no immune system left to fight the disease.
He died soon after. If he’d only been tested and on treatment then he’d still
be with us today. I got tested straight after my close friend’s funeral, and
from that day on I became much more aware of my sexual health. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, even after this, my adherence to safer sex started
to falter. Not straight away of course, but little by little I was slipping. At
first it was just what they call dipping, you know <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when you just put it in for a few minutes
without a condom, and think, oh well that doesn’t count. I’m not actually
fucking. But actually it does. Then there would be other occasions when I
wouldn’t use a condom at all. There would be discussion, risk assessment if you
like, and I would decide to take the risk. It may have been calculated, but it
was still a risk. And I found every sexual encounter was beginning to become a
minefield. I was finding it harder and harder to use condoms. I’d lose my
erection. I’d become so fixated on the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>business of getting the packet open, and the bloody thing on, that I
could barely think of anything else. They say condoms don’t have any side
effects. Well isn’t erectile dysfunction a side effect? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was beginning to give up the idea of
penetrative sex altogether. So PrEP seemed like a miracle, and it changed my
sex life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mainly, and importantly, because it has removed anxiety.
Gone. That’s it! I know I can’t get HIV. I know I can’t pass it on. For the
best part of 30 years now, there was a voice whispering in my ear every time I
had sex. “Be careful. You could get HIV.” And, you know what? That voice has
gone. I can’t tell you how liberating that is. After years of worry about HIV,
suddenly I don’t have to worry anymore. To me it was a no brainer. Short of a
vaccine, this seemed to me to be the most important advance in HIV research
since the discovery of anti-retroviral treatments for HIV positive people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And because I felt so liberated, because I felt it was such
an amazing breakthrough, I decided<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wanted to get the message out there, be totally honest about what I was doing,
and extol<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the virtues of PrEP. I thought
that it would be greeted with open arms, and this is when I was surprised.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I have always been totally open about what I did and do
for a living, which has given me a small amount of notoriety within the gay
scene, and it is no doubt this notoriety which has enabled me to speak out
about PrEP in the gay media and at certain gay events I’ve been invited to.
I’ve had articles in Qx and in TheGayUK, my Truvadawhore photo has been in
Attitude and is about to be published in French music magazine Les
Inrockuptibles. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What actually got me involved and out there writing about
PrEP was an article written by one of my co-writers at TheGayUK which condemned
the use of PrEP. It was very negative and inaccurate on many points, and I
decided I needed to retaliate with an article that got the facts right (Sheena McCormack
was a great help here) and to shed a more positive light on PrEP. In my
naivety, I expected people would be more open to it once they read the facts,
but I actually ended up being on the receiving end of some pretty nasty
comments. I’d worked in the sex industry for many years, but this was the first
time I’d experienced real slut-shaming. I was called an irresponsible slut who
didn’t give a damn about the sexual health of anyone else, which, considering
the reason I was doing PrEP was precisely because I was concerned about my
sexual health <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> that of those I was
having sex with, was a little hurtful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After I’d calmed down a bit from suffering those reactions,
I started to look at the possible reasons for this negativity, for without
understanding those reasons, we will <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>never be able to address them, or break down
prejudices.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I questioned why the reactions of my family and straight
friends were so positive, when those of some of my gay friends were not. Could
it be that straight and gay people saw condom free sex in different ways?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For straight people, condom free sex was not
just about pleasure, it was also about conceiving. It was about life. Whereas,
for us, it had become associated with death. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now a few months ago, I saw a video of a speech by the
magnificent Irish drag queen, Panty Bliss, which discusses the inherent
homophobia that exists within our society, that homophobia which makes us ever
alert, unable to make the slightest unconscious gesture of affection towards
our partner without first checking our surroundings to see if it’s safe. He
touches on the fact that we have become so used to this situation, that we have
come to accept it as ok. He points out that this homophobia comes down to a
basic distaste for what we do in bed, specifically anal sex, and that these
homophobes, when they look at us don’t see a person, they just see a sex act. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I think our problem lies in an internalised homophobia,
which makes us ashamed of who we are, and, more importantly, ashamed of what we
do in bed, particularly if we enjoy anal sex. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let’s face it sex, any kind of sex, has long been about
shame, unless it was to bring about a new life, which of course made gay sex
more shameful still. I suppose we enjoyed a few years of relatively guilt-free
fun when sex between two men was no longer illegal, as long as it was in
private of course, and the only risk attached to it was the chance of an easily
treatable STD. Then AIDS came along. We had to deal with the shame of realising
that our pleasure was killing us, that anal sex was one of the main
transmission routes for this terrible virus. Worse still, the Reagan
administration in the US didn’t lift a finger to help us because it and a great
swathe of America didn’t actually care that we were dying. That’s pretty hard
to deal with.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, due to the efforts of campaigners like Peter
Stalley, we came up with drugs to keep us alive and we discovered that we could
save ourselves and our partners by wearing a condom, and the term safer sex was
coined . And that’s when condom free sex became really shameful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, for all the advances that have been made in recent
years, for all the new therapies, the fact that we now know positive people
with an undetectable viral load can’t pass on the virus, that shame about
condom free anal sex still persists.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We feel shame about that time we were drunk or high and
threw caution to the wind. We woke up the next morning and felt shame.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We felt shame about that time we realised we didn’t have any
condoms but went ahead with it anyway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We felt shame about that time the condom split but we kept
going because it felt so much better, and, here’s the thing, we felt really
ashamed about admitting, even to ourselves, that one fact. Sex without condoms
feels better. There I’ve said it. And apparently I’m not alone, as the majority
of people on the PROUD study gave the reason that “it felt better” as the main
one for having condom free sex. Not being high or drunk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such is the shame about condom free sex, that we even coined
a new word for it, a loaded word that carried with it a sense of risk. Barebacking.
And more and more people were willing to take the risk. We might not actually want
to get HIV, but at least we now weren’t going to die if we did. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I wish we could get rid of that word “barebacking”,
banish it from our vocabulary, because barebacking when you’re protected isn’t
risky, or shameful, it’s just natural. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That said, I understand why it’s going to take some time for
that message to get through, and it’s only by people like me being up front and
talking about it that the message will get through.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I’ve probably now heard every argument imaginable against
PrEP, and most, to be honest, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are just
side issues, but the one I hear most often is that it will encourage
promiscuity, which was exactly the main objection to the birth control pill for
women back in the 60s. Well we were able to get over that problem, and the
birth control pill is now, in the west at least, the most commonly used form of
contraception for the majority of women, mostly because they were able to take
control of their own sex life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this is the point about PrEP. It puts me in control. I
don’t have to worry about whether a partner is telling me the truth about their
status. I take my pill every day and I know I’m protected. The problem with
condoms for some is that they leave all the negotiating to the final moment,
when we can do things against our better judgement. If we’re on PrEP, then we
have taken care of that side of things beforehand, and it means we are still
protected from HIV, should our judgement be impaired.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other good thing about PrEP is that we don’t necessarily
have to be on it for the rest of our lives. Circumstances change. When I
started the PROUD study I was taking risks with multiple partners. In the last
few months I have entered into a monogamous relationship and I am beginning to
consider coming off it. The IperGay study in France suggests that people can
also target their PrEP use, depending on their sexual activity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the good news we need to give MSM. That PrEP allows
us to take control of our own sexual health. PrEP can eliminate the difference
between positive and negative and we can become a community that is no longer
split by our HIV status. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Quite the opposite of being irresponsible, PrEP is taking
responsibility for our own health, and those with whom we have sex. That’s why
we need PrEP – and we need it now!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAz32EoWvgLzd0A5AH3KS3nVbcY6tOiZBofMxyuFLFh7RUaw1k1wnEneAEHZIODJMvhXq8ErD8CXGjSCxndFybcW149Df6jWCnnnwiDsRv17K5jIt8sbae5oVcbdr_iDAASJq0rNg7t09/s1600/10846179_851589134861211_7816002223500888135_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAz32EoWvgLzd0A5AH3KS3nVbcY6tOiZBofMxyuFLFh7RUaw1k1wnEneAEHZIODJMvhXq8ErD8CXGjSCxndFybcW149Df6jWCnnnwiDsRv17K5jIt8sbae5oVcbdr_iDAASJq0rNg7t09/s400/10846179_851589134861211_7816002223500888135_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-83032277962082432702015-06-24T04:35:00.000-07:002015-06-24T04:35:07.529-07:00PROUD Film Premiere on July 1st<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is the trailer for the PROUD film by Nicholas Feustel, which will be premiered at the Cinema Museum, 2 Dugard Way, London SE 11 4TH on July 1st at 7.30pm. The full video will be available to view after that date. I was one of the participants and will be on the panel for a Q&A session after the premiere on July 1st.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/131189804" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/131189804">TRAILER: The Proud Study</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/mrcctu">MRC Clinical Trials Unit at UCL</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
<br />
I am absolutely convinced that PrEP is a major breakthrough in HIV prevention, and that the NHS should now be offering it to those who are most a risk. We now now that HIV positive people, who are on treatment, and who therefore have an undetectable viral load, cannot pass on the virus. If HIV negative people, who were at risjk were on PrEP, then we could bring down rates of HIV transmission down dramatically within a decade. We need to be proactve.
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<br />GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-53604503305644492672015-02-16T07:25:00.000-08:002015-02-16T07:25:17.572-08:00We need PrEP! And we need it now!<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>This is a transcript of the speech I gave at the EATG/AVAC conference on HIV Prevention in Brussels in January this year. There is a certain amount of overlap with my Qx article which I posted yesterday, but there are also some differences as the target audience was different. I thought it worth posting as I truly feel we need PrEP and we need it now. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDuKkNGYns5jRUNjf63OjNvi-yQ1t7CBNFQdxHE0yEGbvurdGUASVsiItgmt4kNWuVzQbD0gINNxCCDdHBlJVlYH4ul2XN9_gdSMmkvjwjk-BCOhS98-dU7bALOdF4FPnu63s-aXAcvkcw/s1600/10940415_10204432804192821_2406025925402338204_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDuKkNGYns5jRUNjf63OjNvi-yQ1t7CBNFQdxHE0yEGbvurdGUASVsiItgmt4kNWuVzQbD0gINNxCCDdHBlJVlYH4ul2XN9_gdSMmkvjwjk-BCOhS98-dU7bALOdF4FPnu63s-aXAcvkcw/s1600/10940415_10204432804192821_2406025925402338204_n.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking at the EATG/AVAC conference in Brussels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good morning. First of all I should point out I am no
expert, no scientist, no medical professional. I am just a participant in the
PROUD study, and I’m here to talk initially about what being on PrEP has meant
to me personally. I’ll then talk a bit about how people – friends, family, and
the community in general – have reacted to the news that I am on PrEP.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I attend the Working Men’s Project at St Mary’s Hospital in
London, which is a Sexual Health clinic for men who work in the sex industry. I
suppose I should point out at this time that I was once an adult model and
performer, and worked as an escort, and though I no longer do any of those
things, I do, as a tantric masseur, still work on the peripheries of the
industry, so I still go to the same clinic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tell you this to explain how I came to be offered the
chance to become a participant in the PROUD study in the first place. I had never even heard of PrEP until November
of 2013, when one of the nurses at the WMP suggested it to me. I’ve always
believed in total honesty about my sexual encounters when visiting a clinic,
and, though I hadn’t realised it or admitted it to myself, it seemed my
behaviour was becoming more risky, enough for me to fit into that at-risk group
that would definitely benefit from taking PrEP. After it was suggested to me, I first went
away and discussed it with my best friend, who is positive, and on Truvada as
one of his anti-retroviral drugs. I’d pretty much decided that I wanted to do
the trial anyway, but it helped to talk it through with him. I then applied,
was accepted and was delighted when I was put onto PrEP straight away, not into
the deferred group that they had at that time. It was all very quick and I’ve
now been on PrEP for over a year. I can honestly say I had no side effects,
apart from some vivid dreams the first week or so. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLk8qsOKzq4bXYVRtHcL2_C-YnR3mnRVuK1BHTRr0-cmd3Sy6YgaD97Lh14I3g150IrCETqJbXMia-o9ngwzUCX3HvvuezgetMk4NadKk6yEImxIWuF-UKMxOjhQJlNhAcmyz1kcJXPcr3/s1600/!cid_A2D25636-774D-48F7-9BFF-ADFB344EF838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLk8qsOKzq4bXYVRtHcL2_C-YnR3mnRVuK1BHTRr0-cmd3Sy6YgaD97Lh14I3g150IrCETqJbXMia-o9ngwzUCX3HvvuezgetMk4NadKk6yEImxIWuF-UKMxOjhQJlNhAcmyz1kcJXPcr3/s1600/!cid_A2D25636-774D-48F7-9BFF-ADFB344EF838.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://www.mileselliotpictures.co.uk/" target="_blank">www.mileselliotpictures.co.uk</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Physically then, the
effect was minimal, or negligible. But how about the psychological effects? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well at first nothing much changed, but, as it gradually
began to dawn on me, that I was protected from HIV, a cloud started to lift. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, I’m a product of the pre AIDS generation. When I
came out there was no HIV, or at least we didn’t know about it. I’m one of the
lucky ones. I didn’t die and I remained HIV negative, obviously or I wouldn’t
be on PrEP. How I got here is no doubt down to a little judgement and a lot of
luck, and I mean a lot of luck. Statistically I should be a statistic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in the 80s the fear of AIDS stopped me having sex
completely for quite a while. Fear of death does that to you and those were
scary times. But once I did start having sex again, for the first time in my
life, I started using condoms. I hated them. Sex didn’t feel so good anymore,
but if you wanted to stay alive, there was no alternative. Sex had become a
dangerous business. I mean people I knew were dying. If you didn’t see someone
for a while, you hardly dared ask what might have happened to them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t get tested. In those days a positive diagnosis was
tantamount to a death sentence. We were
even told that the mere knowledge that one was positive could be enough to
precipitate a downturn in one’s health. So I worried. I fretted. I remember I panicked about it so much that at
one point I even started suffering from night sweats. There was nothing wrong
me. And anyway, at that time, what was
the point knowing? But closing my mind
off like that also meant that I remained ignorant of the advances in HIV treatments
as they happened. Then, in 2001, a very close friend of mine died. He was
admitted to hospital with pneumonia. He had never been tested for HIV and by
the time pneumonia took hold he had no immune system left to fight the disease.
He died soon after. If he’d only been tested and on treatment then he’d still
be with us today. I got tested straight after my close friend’s funeral, and
from that day on I became much more aware of my sexual health. <o:p></o:p></div>
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However, even after this, my adherence to safer sex started
to falter. Not straight away of course, but little by little I was slipping. At
first it was just what they call dipping, you know when you just put it in for a few minutes
without a condom, and think, oh well that doesn’t count. I’m not actually
fucking. But actually it does. Then there would be other occasions when I
wouldn’t use a condom at all. There would be discussion, risk assessment if you
like, and I would decide to take the risk. It may have been calculated, but it
was still a risk. And I found every sexual encounter was beginning to become a
minefield. I was finding it harder and harder to use condoms. I’d lose my
erection. I’d become so fixated on the
business of getting the packet open, and the bloody thing on, that I
could barely think of anything else. They say condoms don’t have any side
effects. Well isn’t erectile dysfunction a side effect? I was beginning to give up the idea of
penetrative sex altogether. So PrEP seemed like a miracle, and it has changed
my sex life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Mainly, and importantly, because it has removed anxiety.
Gone. That’s it! I know I can’t get HIV. I know I can’t pass it on. For the
best part of 30 years now, there was a voice whispering in my ear every time I
had sex. “Be careful. You could get HIV.” And, you know what? That voice has
gone. I can’t tell you how liberating that is. After years of worry about HIV,
suddenly I don’t have to worry anymore. To me it was a no brainer. Short of a
vaccine, this seemed to me to be the most important advance in HIV research
since the discovery of anti-retroviral treatments for HIV positive people.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And because I felt so liberated, because I felt it was such
an amazing breakthrough, I decided I
wanted to get the message out there, be totally honest about what I was doing,
and extol the virtues of PrEP. I thought
that it would be greeted with open arms, and this is when I was surprised.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now I have always been totally open about what I did and do
for a living, which has given me a small amount of notoriety within the gay
scene, and it is no doubt this notoriety which has enabled me to speak out
about PrEP in the gay media and at certain gay events I’ve been invited to. In
fact I have an article in this week’s Qx, one of the weekly London scene mags
that you can pick up in any gay venue in London.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Going back a bit to July last year, an article written by
one of my co-writers, appeared in TheGayUK condemning the use of PrEP. It was
very negative and inaccurate on many points, and I decided I needed to
retaliate with an article that got the facts right (Sheena was a great help
here) and to shed a more positive light on PrEP. In my naivety, I expected
people would be more open to it once they read the facts, but I actually ended
up being on the receiving end of some pretty nasty comments. I’d worked in the
sex industry for many years, but this was the first time I’d experienced real
slut-shaming. I was called an irresponsible slut who didn’t give a damn about
the sexual health of anyone else, which, considering the reason I was doing
PrEP was precisely because I was concerned about my sexual health <i>and</i> that of those I was having sex with,
was a little hurtful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After I’d calmed down a bit from suffering those reactions,
I started to look at the possible reasons for this negativity, for without
understanding those reasons, we will never be able to address them, or break down
prejudices.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I questioned why the reactions of my family and straight
friends were so positive, when those of some of my gay friends were not. Could
it be that straight and gay people saw condom free sex in different ways? For straight people, condom free sex was not
just about pleasure, it was also about conceiving. It was about life. Whereas,
for us, it had become associated with death. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now a couple of weeks ago,
I saw a video of a speech by the magnificent Irish drag queen, Panty
Bliss, which discusses the inherent homophobia that exists within our society,
that homophobia which makes us ever alert, unable to make the slightest
unconscious gesture of affection towards our partner without first checking our
surroundings to see if it’s safe. He touches on the fact that we have become so
used to this situation, that we have come to accept it as ok. He points out
that this homophobia comes down to a basic distaste for what we do in bed,
specifically anal sex, and that these homophobes, when they look at us don’t
see a person, they just see a sex act. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And I think our problem lies in an internalised homophobia,
which makes us ashamed of who we are, and, more importantly, ashamed of what we
do in bed, particularly if we enjoy anal sex. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Let’s face it sex, any kind of sex, has long been about
shame, unless it was to bring about a new life, which of course made gay sex
more shameful still. There were those few hedonistic days when it finally
became legal and the only risk gay sex carried was the possibility of picking
up an easily treatable STD. Then AIDS came along. We had to deal with the shame
of realising that our pleasure was killing us, that anal sex was one of the main
transmission routes for this terrible virus. Worse still, the Reagan administration
didn’t lift a finger to help us because it and a great swathe of America didn’t
actually care that we were dying. That’s pretty hard to deal with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Eventually, due to the efforts of campaigners like Peter
Staley, we came up with drugs to keep us alive and we discovered that we could save ourselves and
our partners by wearing a condom, and the term safer sex was coined . And that’s
when condom free sex became really shameful. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now, for all the advances that have been made in recent
years, for all the new therapies, the fact that we now know positive people
with an undetectable viral load can’t pass on the virus, that shame about
condom free anal sex still persists.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We feel shame about that time we were drunk or high and
threw caution to the wind. We woke up the next morning and felt shame.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We felt shame about that time we realised we didn’t have any
condoms but went ahead with it anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We felt shame about that time the condom split but we kept
going because it felt so much better, and, here’s the thing, we felt really
ashamed about admitting, even to ourselves, that one fact. Sex without condoms
feels better. There I’ve said it. And apparently I’m not alone, as the majority
of people on the PROUD study gave the reason that “it felt better” as the main
one for having condom free sex. Not being high or drunk.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Such is the shame about condom free sex, that we even coined
a new word for it, a loaded word that carried with it a sense of risk.
Barebacking. And more and more people were willing to take the risk. We might
not actually want to get HIV, but at least we now weren’t going to die if we
did. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now I wish we could get rid of that word “barebacking”,
banish it from our vocabulary, because barebacking when you’re protected isn’t
risky, or shameful, it’s just natural. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That said, I understand why it’s going to take some time for
that message to get through, and it’s only by people like me being up front and
talking about it that the message will get through.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I think I’ve probably now heard every argument imaginable against
PrEP, and most, to be honest, are just
side issues, but the one I hear most often is that it will encourage
promiscuity, which was exactly the main objection to the birth control pill for
women back in the 60s. Well we were able to get over that problem, and the
birth control pill is now, in the west at least, the most commonly used form of
contraception for the majority of women, mostly because they were able to take
control of their own sex life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And this is the point about PrEP. It puts me in control. I
don’t have to worry about whether a partner is telling me the truth about their
status. I take my pill every day and I know I’m protected. Just as women knew
when they took their pill every day that they couldn’t become pregnant.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is the good news we need to give MSM. That PrEP allows
us to take control of our own sexual health. PrEP can eliminate the difference
between positive and negative and we can become a community that is no longer
split by our HIV status. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Quite the opposite of being irresponsible, PrEP is taking
responsibility for our own health, and those with whom we have sex. That’s why
we need PrEP – and we need it now!<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-24416785355817345872015-02-15T07:56:00.000-08:002015-02-15T08:04:03.550-08:00#Truvadawhore<i>This article is a potted version of a speech I did for Pat Cash's Let's Talk About Gay Sex & Drugs back in December 2014. It was published in Qx Magazine on 22 January 2015</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxOSihIv8pLHenl0wWFTMferQ7utGzm6gPudQiHWv_WWvTMV2ZACu7jKSsCf-HNy-fsHUR1jvDeZqTVP_dwtHqhOGA6eTN_WJ2k5qPNQ9J74TT6bepQOpGHPoh-ibZrX73TLKL3Z-Ry11/s1600/!cid_A2D25636-774D-48F7-9BFF-ADFB344EF838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxOSihIv8pLHenl0wWFTMferQ7utGzm6gPudQiHWv_WWvTMV2ZACu7jKSsCf-HNy-fsHUR1jvDeZqTVP_dwtHqhOGA6eTN_WJ2k5qPNQ9J74TT6bepQOpGHPoh-ibZrX73TLKL3Z-Ry11/s1600/!cid_A2D25636-774D-48F7-9BFF-ADFB344EF838.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://mileselliotpictures.co.uk/" target="_blank">Miles Elliot</a></td></tr>
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I’m Greg Mitchell and I’m a Truvadawhore. I take one pill a
day (Truvada) and that stops me getting HIV. It’s called PrEP (Pre-Exposure
Prophylaxis). However some in the gay community think taking PrEP makes me a
bad person; irresponsible, a slut, a whore.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m a product of the pre AIDS generation. I remember a time
when there was no HIV. Somehow I survived the worst of the AIDS epidemic and
I’m still HIV negative. How I got here is no doubt down to a little judgement
and a lot of luck. Statistically I should be a statistic. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Back in the 80s the fear of AIDS, well the fear of death, stopped
me having sex completely for quite a while. But the sexual imperative is a
strong urge, and eventually I started again. I used condoms, I hated them, but
the alternative was too horrible to contemplate. Sex could still be good, but
it wasn’t the same. <o:p></o:p></div>
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However, with the advances in HIV treatment, I’ll admit my
adherence to safer sex started to falter. At first it was just what they call “dipping”:
when you just put it in for a few minutes without a condom, and think, “that
doesn’t count. I’m not actually fucking”. Then there were other occasions when
I wouldn’t use a condom at all. There would be discussion, risk assessment if
you like, and I would decide to take the risk. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was finding it harder and harder to use condoms. I’d lose
my erection. I’d become so fixated on the
business of getting the packet open, and the bloody thing on, that I
could barely think of anything else. I was beginning to give up the idea of
penetrative sex altogether. So PrEP seemed like a miracle, and it has changed
my sex life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Because it has removed anxiety. I know I can’t get HIV. I
know I can’t pass it on. That is a liberating feeling. Short of a vaccine, I thought it the most
important advance in HIV research since the discovery of anti-retroviral
treatments for HIV positive people. My family and my straight friends agreed, so
I was astonished to find that many in the gay community were less enthusiastic.
Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ultimately I think some of the negative reactions come down
to shame. Gay sex, any gay sex, has long been about shame. It wasn’t that long
ago that it became decriminalised here and in most Western countries (in fact
it was still illegal when I was growing up), and in 81 countries around the
world it is still against the law. Then in the 1980s it became even more shameful as we discovered it was one of
the transmission routes for a deadly disease.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before that time condoms were for preventing babies. No gay
man would ever consider using one, but, as our brothers started to die around
us, we realised it was either put a rubber on it or become another statistic. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And that’s’ when condom free sex became shameful. We even coined
a new word for it, a loaded word that carried with it a sense of risk.
Barebacking. More and more porn was bareback, revelling in its risky nature.
New treatments meant that HIV was no longer deemed a death sentence. Still,
I’ll wager most of the people indulging in occasional condom free sex end up
feeling guilty for ages afterwards, hoping against hope that when they next
test they will be ok. But that probably starts a pattern. Once you get away
with unsafe sex, you try again and again, until one day you go for that test
and it comes back positive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am also convinced that many of those who condemn the use
of PrEP are under the misapprehension that those gay men testing positive are
just the <i>dirty gay guys</i>, the ones who
go to weekend sex parties and take lots of drugs, and no doubt there is an
undercurrent of feeling that they deserve it. People get sorted into the good
gays and the bad ones. Good gay guys subscribe to the hetero-norm, they meet
the man of their dreams and settle down in a monogamous relationship, while the
bad ones have multiple partners and go to cruise bars and sex clubs. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But many of these <i>good
gays</i>, the ones with boyfriends, the ones who think they are in monogamous
relationships, are still testing positive. In fact more than half of all new
HIV cases come from the primary partner. Maybe some of these good gays are not
as good as they like to think they are; maybe we should stop condemning people
who choose a different life style from our own; maybe we should all stop being
so damn judgemental. Because PrEP can eliminate the difference between negative
and positive. We can become a community that is no longer split by our HIV status.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Quite the opposite of being irresponsible, PrEP is taking
responsibility for my own health and the health of those I have sex with. If
that makes me a Truvadawhore, then so be it.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking at Let's Talk About Gay Sex & Drugs - December 2014</td></tr>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-49072872726766930442014-10-25T03:12:00.001-07:002014-10-25T03:12:07.787-07:00The Curing Room at the Pleasance Theatre, London<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“It made the recent Globe production of Titus Andronicus
look like a teddy bear’s picnic!” said my companion, as the lights went down on Stripped Down Production's <b>The Curing Room</b>.And indeed over 90 minutes we had been
subjected to a deluge of blood, guts and gore, coupled with full frontal male
nudity the likes of which I have never seen before on the stage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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David Ian Lee’s <b>The
Curing Room</b> throws seven Soviet soldiers into the empty cellar of a monastery, stripped of all belongings and their
clothes. Abandoned by their captors, and left without food, the men resort
finally to murder and cannibalism in order to survive. The play asks questions
about how we redefine ourselves in extreme circumstances, how the constraints
of normal civilised society and military rank cling to us, or don’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The play is something of a <i>tour de force</i> for the seven
brilliant actors, who literally bare all before the audience. Director Joao De Sousa is unflinching
in his depiction of cannibalism and there is, as I said earlier, a lot of
blood. My companion spent much of the latter part of the evening with his head
turned away from the stage. This play is
definitely not for the faint-hearted, and if your only reason for going is a
prurient desire to see seven men naked, well you soon get used to that. The
gore is harder to cope with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It would be invidious to pick out any one of the actors.
They all work as a close knit team, and all, without exception give excellent
performances. De Sousa’s pacing is brilliant, and I was gripped throughout. Once
away from the theatrical brilliance of it all, though, a few minor doubts crept
in about the writing and about the play itself. For much of the play, the
characters come across as mere cyphers, as representatives of certain types;
the stiff upper lip captain, the honourable senior-lieutenant, the slightly
simple young private, the old retainer and so on. This could be the reason I
found it ultimately less involving than I should have. Though the horror of
what unfolds before you certainly draws you in,
ultimately ones cares little about the fate of these soldiers as
individuals.<o:p></o:p></div>
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None the less, <b>The Curing Room</b> is gripping drama and well worth seeing if you
have the stomach for it. I doubt we will see anything like it again for some
time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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4 stars<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Curing Room is at the Pleasance Theatre until November 9<sup>th</sup>.<o:p></o:p></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-4666737042421299422014-08-23T02:56:00.002-07:002014-08-23T03:03:37.993-07:00So Why Are So Many Gay Men Opposed to Prep?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<i style="text-align: start;">This article was first published on <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/magazine/4574334751/So-Why-Are-So-Many-Gay-Men-Opposed-To-PrEP/8625632" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a> a week ago, and I have to say I have been astonished and saddened by some of the negative and downright vitriolic responses I have received. I had not realised till then how polarised the gay community is regarding HIV, and how the disease is still stigmatised and discriminated against within our own community. In the constant battle against HIV and AIDS, how anybody can see the discovery of PrEP as anything but a good thing is completely and utterly beyond me. </i></div>
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So why are so many gay men adamantly opposed to PrEP, the
daily dose of the anti-retroviral drug Truvada, which is at least 90% effective
at protecting against HIV? Indeed, according to a recent iPrEx open-label
extension (iPrEx OLE), to date the largest demonstration project of HIV
Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis, daily taking of Truvada could be as much as 99% effective.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is a question I’ve been asking myself quite a lot
recently, especially after reading some negative articles in the press and one, by Joshua
Vaughan here in TheGayUK a couple of weeks ago, which was actually inaccurate
on several points. <o:p></o:p></div>
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About nine months ago, the GUM clinic I regularly attend
(the Working Men’s Project at St Mary’s in Paddington) offered me the chance to
be part of the PROUD study, which examines the impact on gay men of using
Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP), and I jumped at the chance, not only because I
wanted to do my bit for the community, but because it offered me an extra level
of protection against HIV, regardless of whether I was using condoms or not.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before moving on to the whys, let me tackle some of the issues and downright
inaccuracies in Vaughan’s article. Rather than rely on hearsay and prejudice, I
spoke to Professor Sheena McCormack, the lead doctor for the PROUD study, who
is also Consultant Physician at 56 Dean Street.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Vaughan states that there has been a significant drop in HIV
transmission rates between 2001 and 2012, but though this is true globally,
there has been no drop in the rates amongst gay men, and there is evidence to
suggest that, on the contrary, they are rising. This may have something to do
with an increase in the number of gay men presenting themselves for testing,
but it is worrying none the less. Vaughan also enumerates at length the
terrible side effects which can accompany the taking of Truvada, but fails to
mention that those that suffer these side effects constitute only a small
proportion of those taking the drug. A recent large study of over 4000 HIV
negative men and women in Kenya and Uganda, found that there were very few
significant differences when compared to placebo, and only a minority (less
than 10%) of HIV positive people taking it in combination with a third drug
discontinue because of side effects due to Truvada . Anyone taking Truvada for
PrEP who suffers side effects can simply stop taking it, but so far, according
to Professor McCormack, only one person has stopped because of problems with
the medication.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Vaughan states “The
WHO believe that medicating ALL homosexual men will provide an additional
method of preventing infection. Along with condom use and regular testing. But
activists have suggested that introducing government mandated antiretroviral
would discourage the use of condoms, currently the best method to prevent the
transmission of sexually transmitted infections. Resulting in an increase of
other sexually transmitted infections such as gonorrhea, chlamydia and
hepatitis in the gay community.” First of all, the WHO is not saying that all
gay men should be <i>given</i> PrEP, but that
they should be <i>offered</i> it, which is
slightly different. Nor has any of the data surrounding possible increases in
other sexually transmitted diseases been analysed yet, though the Partners PrEP
study suggested no significant change in behaviour. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Regarding the cost,
I have no idea from where Vaughan plucks his figure of £10,000 per person per
year, but Professor McCormack assures me this is far beyond the mark. Though it
would be difficult to put an exact figure on it, because of the National
Health’s buying power and their ability to get large discounts, the figure is
more likely to be in the range of £5,000. Already it is being offered in the
private sector for around £500 per month. He says this is a lot of money to
spend on a preventable disease, but that is exactly what the medication is for,
and, with a 90% (and possibly even a 99%) success rate, it actually makes it
more successful than condoms. <o:p></o:p></div>
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To quote from a
United States C.D.C. study of 2013, “We are also unclear about to what
extent condoms actually prevent HIV transmission in anal sex. This last fact
may seem surprising, given that condoms have been recommended since the
mid-1980s as the only effective HIV prevention method for gay men who have anal
sex. In fact, <a href="http://www.aidsmap.com/Do-condoms-work/page/1746203/#item1746198">there
is only one large study in gay men, dating from 1989.</a> In this
study of 2914 gay men, HIV incidence among those who said they used condoms
100% of the time was 70% lower than in men who did not use them at all. There
has been one small study in the era of antiretroviral treatment (ART), which
found an efficacy of approximately 75%.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Vaughan states that introducing the drugs could run the risk
of the virus evolving immunity to the drug, but this is in fact only likely in
cases where a participant is seroconverting when they start taking the
medication. It can also be a problem for HIV positive people who have a gap in
their treatment, this being a particular problem in parts of Africa where
people have to travel miles to get their medication and end up missing doses. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So, given so many positives, how can offering PrEP be a bad
thing, and why is there so much resistance within the gay community? Professor
McCormack is mystified. “This is a good thing,” she tells me, adding that most of
her
colleagues that work in Sub-Saharan Africa (who are friends and mainly female
and straight!) queried why WHO did not specifically mention women in the recent
consolidated guidance. And indeed we ought not to ignore the needs of other
communities that have been shown to benefit from PrEP, including intravenous
drug users, and heterosexual men and women. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We
can bang on as much as we like about better, more targeted sex education in
schools, but there is little to suggest it would have a major impact on the
epidemic. It has had little effect on unwanted pregnancies, even though no-one
leaves school without knowing where to go for contraception. It may be that the
UK’s problems come down to an age-old embarrassment about talking about sex. In
countries like the Netherlands and Scandinavia, where they have traditionally
been more open and matter of fact about sex, teenage pregnancies and STD
infection rates amongst young people are far lower. The problem could be more
cultural than anything else.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Coincidentally, I think that most of the resistance to PrEP
boils down to shame about admitting to enjoying condom free sex. In the study on
condom use cited above that figure of 70% was amongst gay men <i>who said they used condoms 100% of the time.</i>
My italics. How many of those were actually lying, or conveniently forgetting
that time when the condom broke, or they indulged in dipping, or actually
didn’t use a condom at all because they were drunk or high? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Gay sex itself has been about shame for a long time. It
wasn’t that long ago that it became decriminalised here and in most Western
countries, and in many countries around the world it is still against the law. After
it was decriminalised, there was a brief period when gay sex was fun and the
only risk it carried was the possibility of picking up an easily treatable STD.
Then in the 1980s it became shameful again as we discovered it was one of the
transmission routes for a deadly disease. Many people died because of it, and
it took a lot of time, and a lot of campaigning, for gay men to take on the
safer sex message. Before that time condoms were for preventing babies <i>tout court</i>. No gay man would ever
consider using one, but, as our brothers started to die around us, we realised
it was either put a rubber on it or become another statistic. Gay sex was
shameful again. The advice was cut down on partners, use condoms or die. I
remember for a few years I pretty much gave up sex altogether, with or without
condoms.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then the new combination treatments came along and people
began to survive, though many of those first drugs had some pretty terrible
side effects. But the advances in the last 10 years or so have been
immeasurable. People don’t die anymore. Nor do the new treatments have such
terrible consequences. People with HIV can now live a normal life. What’s more,
whereas once it was deemed better to hold off treatment as long as possible,
because of the toxicity of the drugs, now it is better to get people onto
therapy as <i>soon</i> as possible as the
therapy quickly brings down their viral load to undetectable, which means they
cannot pass on the virus.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It is of course quite possible that the fact that we are no
longer seeing people suffering or dying around us had made us complacent, and
this could be the reason we are seeing higher rates of HIV incidence amongst
gay men. I’ll admit it; I was taking the odd risk that I wouldn’t have taken
even 5 years ago. It may have been a calculated risk, but it was a risk nonetheless.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Why take the risk at all, you might ask. Well, because I
don’t like condoms. For years I have been having sex and not really enjoying it
because I have had to use a condom. But even on those occasions I took a
calculated risk, enjoyment was difficult because there was always a doubt at
the back of my mind. We may have discussed it, but how sure were we? Could I,
or the person I was with, actually unknowingly have the virus and pass it on? We
may have both tested negative recently, but how sure were we? And so on.</div>
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Two years ago I wrote an article condemning the
indiscriminate practice of barebacking, but the landscape has changed
completely since then. There is still much in that article I agree with, and I
have not ditched the condoms altogether. I rarely fuck or get fucked at a sex
club, but if I did I would still use a condom. Though, pre-AIDS, I would never
have dreamed of using condoms, I would only now go bareback with someone I had
a more intimate relationship with. What PrEP does is it removes that lingering
anxiety, and how liberating that is. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll give you an example. A couple of days ago I had sex
with a guy I have known now for about a year, a fuck buddy rather than a
relationship if you want to put a label on it (I don’t). We have always used
condoms before, even though we are both sure we are negative. On this occasion
we didn’t, and the knowledge that I am on PrEP allowed us to have the kind of
joyful, unbridled pleasure in each other that we had both forgotten existed, <i>in the sure knowledge that neither of us
could give each other HIV</i>. That is a liberating experience, yet the moral
police out there, would prefer that we didn’t have it. After all, gay sex is
shameful, isn’t it? And condom free gay sex is even more shameful. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am convinced that many of those that are condemning the
introduction of PrEP are also under the misapprehension that those gay men
testing positive are just the <i>dirty gay
guys</i>, the ones who go to weekend sex parties and take lots of drugs, and no
doubt there is an undercurrent of feeling that they deserve it. (I don’t agree,
by the way). Indeed only recently, former gay soldier James Wharton (one of the
<i>good gays</i>) recommended closing down
gay saunas, with the outrageous claim that they were standing in the way of
equality and were breeding grounds for drugs and HIV. Good gay guys subscribe
to the hetero-norm, they meet the man of their dreams and settle down in a
monogamous relationship. But it would seem that many of these <i>good gays</i>, the ones with boyfriends, the
ones who think they are in monogamous relationships, are still testing
positive. Maybe some of these good gays are not as good as they like to think
they are; maybe we should all stop being so damn judgemental; and maybe we
should just welcome the advances in medical science that have brought us PrEP.<br />
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There can be little doubt that much of the debate
surrounding PrEP has been couched in moral terms. Only recently Michael Weinstein, the CEO and President of the AIDS Healthcare Foundation poured
considerable funds into fighting its approval and went as far as calling
Truvada a “party drug”, an outrageous comment on a drug that can help prevent
transmission of the virus to a wide range of people, including gay men, sex
workers and HIV-negative individuals in relationships with people living with
HIV. A petition has been started to have him removed from office for trying to
block one of the most revolutionary developments in the history of the AIDS
epidemic. To quote Eric Paul Leue, Mr Los Angeles Leather 2014, who started the
petition,<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This petition is about whether we, the people, should be
allowed access to accurate information, free of stigma and discrimination.
Since 1980, HIV and its prevention has been framed in moral terms, and the
people carrying the virus blamed. The head of our largest AIDS service
organization should know that HIV prevention is not “a party.””<o:p></o:p></div>
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PrEP is not widely available in the UK yet, but the PROUD
study, of which I am a part, could result in it being offered to gay men more
widely; offered to them, not forced on them. Isn’t it always better to have
choices? If I am offered the chance of an extra level of protection against
HIV, why should I be judged for accepting it? My body, my choice. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Professor McCormack has written a little poem about the
benefits of PrEP, and performs it here on this youtube clip. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-2582883218688834032014-04-11T02:12:00.001-07:002014-04-11T02:12:47.130-07:00BFI Flare 2014 - Movie Reviews<div class="MsoNormal">
So it’s almost two weeks now since the brilliant <i>52 Tuesdays</i> closed BFI Flare 2014 (formerly the London LGBT Film
Fesival) and what a festival it was, showing a range of shorts and documentaries,
at least 50 feature films from all over the world, and a series of interactive
media events.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I managed to get to see 10 of the films that were showing,
though there were plenty of others I’d have liked to have seen, had I had the
time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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First and foremost was the film chosen to open the festival.
<i> Lilting</i> is a gently moving piece about
bereavement, grief and colliding cultures, beautifully scripted and played and
directed with a sure hand by Hong Khaou. The way in which he dovetails past and
present, real and imaginary, whilst making sure the movie flows seamlessly was
really quite special. He was immeasurably helped by some superb performances,
especially Ben Wishaw’s deeply broken Richard, reeling from the recent loss of
his boyfriend Kai, a performance superbly seconded by Cheng Pei Pei, as Kai’s
mother Junn, a Chinese-Cambodian woman who has never come to terms with the
English world she was thrust into. She has never learned to speak English and
Kai was her only connection with the alien world she finds herself in. Despite
their closeness Kai had never felt it possible to come out to her, leaving
Richard with the impossible task of wanting to do right by his lover’s mother
without divulging the true nature of their relationship. Wonderful supporting
performances too from Andrew Leung as Kai. Peter Bowles as the Englishman Junn
befriends in the home she is living in, and Naomi Christie as Vann, the
translator Richard employs for Junn. Subtle, poetic, almost unbearably moving
without being mawkish, this is a must see. (5 stars)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLh1NVmniSjUxtJHVS7ZeLTx9O4my53le57c-PrVv3rHdt55YoIdbTsFuryv_mjvyPyhLCEUk1rsj3PBoIerH4uKEJMnNXOhDEqrUF5lE9u1kMOOxIlGmDyriwhyFU25PCFu5Jv4D0dJMP/s1600/526x297-e2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLh1NVmniSjUxtJHVS7ZeLTx9O4my53le57c-PrVv3rHdt55YoIdbTsFuryv_mjvyPyhLCEUk1rsj3PBoIerH4uKEJMnNXOhDEqrUF5lE9u1kMOOxIlGmDyriwhyFU25PCFu5Jv4D0dJMP/s1600/526x297-e2a.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pierre-Gabriel Lajoie and Walter Borden in Gerontophilia</td></tr>
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Toronto based filmmaker Bruce LaBruce is no stranger to
controversy, and so it is that, in his latest movie, <i>Gerontophilia</i>, he turns to the subject of age gap relationships,
which, according to LaBruce transgress a very strong cultural taboo. Lake is an
unusual young man with an unusual fetish. Though he has a girlfriend, he is
attracted to old men, a fetish he gets the chance to pursue when he starts a
job as an orderly in an old people’s home. Whilst in the home, he is appalled
at the way the inmates are treated and strikes up a relationship with Mr Peabody,
weaning him off the medication that keeps him easy to manage, and eventually
helping him to escape so they can set-off on a road-trip together. So far, so
good, but for me the problem at the heart of the movie was that the central
relationship between Lake and Mr Peabody didn’t really ring true. Maybe Pierre-Gabriel
Lajoie had been encouraged to play Lake with a sort of wide-eyed innocence
throughout, but it made it hard to believe that there was a strong sexual bond
between the two men. However, with the veteran Walter Borden putting in a
wittily amusing performance as Mr Peabody, it is a very enjoyable film, as much
about how modern society responds to old age as it is about age-gap
relationships. (3 stars)</div>
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Age and aging were some of the concerns of <i>Rosie</i>, a Swiss film, directed by Marcel
Gisler, in which gay writer Lorenz and his sister Sophie squabble and
ultimately reconcile about what to do with their aging alcoholic mother, Rosie,
splendidly played by Sybille Brunner. Plenty of family skeletons fall out of
the cupboard as Lorenz tries to get to the bottom of the rift that existed
between his mother and father, a rift that coloured his and his sister’s
childhood. A touching and eventually uplifting movie about family with a sly,
gentle humour. (4 stars)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Providing quite a contrast to these was Charles Lunn and
Todd Verrow’s documentary <i>Age of Consent</i>,
which tells the story of The Hoist, one of London’s few remaining leather bars,
which opened in 1996. It being the story of a sex club, we get to see plenty of
sex, some of it quite graphic. Ultimately, though, it turns out to be not only
a fascinating glimpse into London’s leather scene, but a history of gay sex
since decriminalisation. Did you know, for instance, that there were more
convictions for gross indecency in 1989 than there were in 1966, the year
before homosexuality was made legal for “consenting men in private”? The “in
private” part was something the police vigorously enforced it would seem, often
using pretty policeman to entrap gay men and secure a conviction. Against a
backdrop of leather men grunting and groaning with pleasure, Peter Tatchell
talks eloquently, as ever, about the continuing battle for equality under the
law; co-owners Kurt Striegler and Guy Irwin tell us all about how the club got
started., and some of its regulars tell us what makes the club special for them.
There are no doubt those amongst the gay community (like James Wharton who was
only recently proposing the closure of all gay saunas) who will find the goings
on in the club quite disgusting, but surely the point is that we should all
have equality before the law, whatever our sexual preferences, a fact that was
brought brilliantly home by this excellent documentary. I do hope it gets an
official release. (4 stars)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Also receiving its first London showing was a Cuban film <i>La Partida (The Last Match)</i>, directed by
Antonio Hens. This is a bleak tale of young men from the slums in Havana.
Though many of these young men identify as straight, it appears there is no shame
in befriending and having sex with older rich tourists for money. Rather than
being the exception it is the norm, and the women know and accept what is going
on. Yossani and Rey are friends, playing on the same local football team, but
they find themselves becoming physically and emotionally drawn to each other
with typically tragic results. Though men having sex with others for money is
accepted, two men in love is not. The two young actors Milton Garcia and
Reinier Diaz give great performances in this brutally realistic drama. (3
stars)<o:p></o:p></div>
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You can find reviews of some of the others I saw in
TheGayUK’s archives, but it was good to be reminded of Michael Douglas’s Emmy
award winning performance as Liberace in <i>Behind
the Candelabra</i>, the delightfully amusing <i>G.B.F., </i>the mesmerising thriller <i>Stranger By The Lake</i>, and the harrowingly moving documentary <i>Bridegroom</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The festival ended on a high note with an Australian movie
(directed by Sophie Hyde) called <i>52
Tuesdays</i>, a remarkable movie about a woman, Jane (Del Herbert-Jane) who,
having put it off for years, is finally going to transition from female to
male. James decides that to do so he needs some ‘me time’ so suggests that his
daughter Billie (Tilda Cobham-Harvey) goes to live with her father for a year.
They make a pact that they will meet every Tuesday. Seen mostly from the point
of view of Billie (a blisteringly brilliant debut from Cobham-Harvey), we go
through every painful moment of James’s process and Billie’s difficulties in
understanding and coming to terms with what is happening to her mother, meaning
that Jane’s transition to James is set against Billie’s transition from child
to adult. The physical facts of hormone
treatments and surgery Billie finds relatively easy to deal with, the emotional
changes are more complex and more confusing. Shot over 52 actual Tuesdays, the
non-professional cast were given their scripts a week at a time and only saw
the scenes they were actually in. This unique and original drama deservedly won
Sophie Hyde a best director award at Sundance, and brought what had been a
great event to a fitting close. (5 stars)<o:p></o:p></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-88431251211227257832014-02-22T10:01:00.000-08:002014-02-22T10:01:19.294-08:00My Little List<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This is a slightly expanded version of an article I wrote for </i><a href="http://thegayuk.com/"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">TheGayUK</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, which appears in their latest downloadable
version; expanded because, since I wrote it, a few more names have come
forward, who unquestionably deserve to make this distinguished list.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Warning. This article may cause
offense. Sorry about that, but the people listed below have caused me plenty of
offense over the years. It’s payback time.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
“As some day it may happen that a
victim must be found,<br />
I've got a little list — I've got a little list<br />
Of society offenders who might well be underground,<br />
And who never would be missed — who never would be missed!”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
The words are Ko-Ko’s in Gilbert
and Sullivan’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Mikado</i>, but if
only I too could be Lord High Executioner, just for a day. I’ve got my own
little list of society offenders who never would be missed. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ifec6WrHUo8/UwjfsUMsbaI/AAAAAAAADRw/d62ozujyeKI/s1600/peter+hitchens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ifec6WrHUo8/UwjfsUMsbaI/AAAAAAAADRw/d62ozujyeKI/s1600/peter+hitchens.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Hitchens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Take Peter Hitchens for instance.
Does it never bother him that people look at him and wonder why the wrong
brother had to die? Presumably not, because nothing ever seems to knock that
smug, self-satisfied expression off his face. Much of my dislike of the man,
I’ll admit, is an irrational reaction to both his face and his pompous voice,
and there have been (very rare) occasions when I’ve actually agreed with something
he’s said. Even so, I always feel I want to hit him. When he’s on Question
Time, it’s all I can do to stop myself launching a brick at the television.
Sorry, but there it is.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Talk of Peter Hitchens, brings me
to quite a few other Daily Mail columnists and the editor himself, that
“frothing autocrat”, to use Stephen Fry’s phrase, Paul Dacre, one of the
nastiest individuals I’ve ever come across. I’ll let the estimable Mr Fry sum
up my feelings about<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>him. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Dacre is, all those who
have had the misfortune to work for him assure me, just about as loathsome,
self-regarding, morally putrid, vengeful and disgusting a man as it possible to
be. His power is absolute. Cross him either in private or public and you will
be assassinated by his sycophantic squad of columnist minions, all of them
infected with his brand of repulsive hypocritical and gleeful spite, ready to
vomit out a screed against the BBC or any other institution they hate.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMjN5GARR1vKH-lg0knlmqs5s97ixSotmL7FZQy021ToQE6WYqCA29EOMxoitKbzLtcspJ39f2BlF_IDiWFS4Jrj85PGlgLGv29mT1_7KCc8LNTz78blkbL0a9PSsmGDRpvuvyjLlsoTA/s1600/Paul-Dacre-GQ_10Jun13_rex_b_642x390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMjN5GARR1vKH-lg0knlmqs5s97ixSotmL7FZQy021ToQE6WYqCA29EOMxoitKbzLtcspJ39f2BlF_IDiWFS4Jrj85PGlgLGv29mT1_7KCc8LNTz78blkbL0a9PSsmGDRpvuvyjLlsoTA/s1600/Paul-Dacre-GQ_10Jun13_rex_b_642x390.jpg" height="194" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Dacre</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Dacre and his rag had another go
at the estimable Mr Fry after his, as always, brilliant hosting of the 2014
BAFTAs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Petty stuff and not even worth
repeating, but Dacre definitely goes on the list. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I’ll even let you pull the trigger, Stephen. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
So that you won’t feel too lonely
when they march you out to stand against that wall, Mr Dacre, maybe we could
surround you with a few friends; Melanie Phillips, a sort of female Peter Hitchens,
only not as womanly; that stupid woman Jan Moir, who started banging on about
Stephen Gately’s “gay lifestyle” being responsible for his death, before his
family had had a chance to even deal with the shock, and making wild
assumptions before the cause of death had been established (a pulmonary
edema resulting from an undiagnosed heart condition, as it turned out);
the loathsome Richard Littlejohn who outed transgender teacher Lesley Meadows,
in a nasty transphobic piece, that no doubt contributed to her suicide. Neither
Moir nor Littlejohn ever apologised, but that is the way with the Daily Mail.
What’s a life when there’s a good story at stake? What indeed? Line them up.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
While I’m at it, maybe I can take
steps to burn all copies of the Daily Mail, burn down their printing press and
offices, and literally do everything possible to prevent it ever being printed
again. I doubt it would be missed, and maybe “outraged of middle England” might
actually end up feeling a little happier, and even a little less outraged.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uBRk30upuZk/UwjgQ4byJrI/AAAAAAAADSA/vpTE-y3PjbY/s1600/article-2380905-01E5E57C00000514-816_634x588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uBRk30upuZk/UwjgQ4byJrI/AAAAAAAADSA/vpTE-y3PjbY/s1600/article-2380905-01E5E57C00000514-816_634x588.jpg" height="185" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vladimir Putin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Time now to look further afield
and outside the UK. First and foremost would have to be Vladimir Putin, that
confused despot, who doesn’t know the difference between homosexuality and
paedophilia, but delights in posing for homoerotic photographs. Poor man
obviously has quite a few self-esteem issues, as he regularly apes the Red
Queen from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Alice in Wonderland</i>,
screaming “Off with his head” at anyone brave enough to contradict him. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVJFHBojnMNIVHgBwNAsjxQ1AgXzIE2-hM4mZopJS_RcTsgwKcFJpSyHyZujtSbvBvInXsq_Hmx7II4Ndbvb6j9Q149QOyHHWdLXjYemrY5fJUPofyqP3jb02f6UcY9vEDgDPh9flzxHd/s1600/news_post16918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVJFHBojnMNIVHgBwNAsjxQ1AgXzIE2-hM4mZopJS_RcTsgwKcFJpSyHyZujtSbvBvInXsq_Hmx7II4Ndbvb6j9Q149QOyHHWdLXjYemrY5fJUPofyqP3jb02f6UcY9vEDgDPh9flzxHd/s1600/news_post16918.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vitaly Milonov</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Next to him we’ll put Vitaly
Molonov, one of the architects of the present ant-gay law in Russia, who seems
to equate homosexuality with bestiality, and proclaims he is only doing God’s
work (we’ll get on to religion in a moment). He is convinced that homosexuality
is a choice, though one wonders why anyone in their right mind would make such
a choice in a country where they are likely to be beaten up, or even killed.
The man is clearly mad. Only recently he has proposed granting full citizenship
to embryos and forcing women who have not given birth by the age of 23 to join
the army. Eh? “Off with his head!”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
After the recent screening of the
deeply disturbing and desperately sad documentary “Hunted” from Channel 4’s
Dispatches team, I’ll also add Timur Islav, a self-styled vigilante and member of
<b>Parents of Russia</b>, and the vile Ekaterina Zigunova of the group <b>Occupy
Paedophilia</b> (yet again Russians make no distinction between homosexuality and
paedophilia) who cheerfully explains to the Dispatches team how she plans to
ruin the lives of any gay man who comes within her radar. After the documentary
aired on February 5<sup>th</sup>, there cannot have been a gay man anywhere in
the UK, who did not wish her dead. You know, all that pleasure you take in
torturing young gay men, and in ruining their lives, Katya? Well you can’t
begin to imagine what pleasure I’d take in marching <i>you</i> out in front of a
firing squad of gay men. I’m sure they’d like to hurt and humiliate you a bit
first, just so you know what it’s like. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4GvjGEGTM_jig1bu3e9Ee4WTVbfLpPgQHhrMleuF3lpRUnDZhtbLuieXlyVy40OXbhqR-a6epsa7-SJlE71RFlG08H7iT0-_i1ncYwIeXygFLdGSKa0cK34QP3vU1kYRwngD_hYSkmdu/s1600/1782074_506943639422560_1372037200_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4GvjGEGTM_jig1bu3e9Ee4WTVbfLpPgQHhrMleuF3lpRUnDZhtbLuieXlyVy40OXbhqR-a6epsa7-SJlE71RFlG08H7iT0-_i1ncYwIeXygFLdGSKa0cK34QP3vU1kYRwngD_hYSkmdu/s1600/1782074_506943639422560_1372037200_n.jpg" height="281" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ehaterina Ziganova</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
And so I move on to religion, or
rather those who commit crimes of hatred in its name. Truth to tell, there are
rather too many of them to put in front of a firing squad. It would be a very
crowded wall and you might miss one or two, so I prefer to take a few examples
and make them scapegoats. After all, scapegoating is something these nasties
are all rather good at.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QrBdLuOwMvmcIZl_oEYANL4jve_ykNJNA_7ndw6JWFaUho-VxifqXMlwdy9V6Ep0MFSh6bc-2DBHhQzMvzRLFVKBu2YaGhvWQLNs12noK1osiFdXHOFRkVnbecjQ1GMyZukl8ssEGjM6/s1600/Pope+Bendict.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QrBdLuOwMvmcIZl_oEYANL4jve_ykNJNA_7ndw6JWFaUho-VxifqXMlwdy9V6Ep0MFSh6bc-2DBHhQzMvzRLFVKBu2YaGhvWQLNs12noK1osiFdXHOFRkVnbecjQ1GMyZukl8ssEGjM6/s1600/Pope+Bendict.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph Ratzinger</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Now I know he doesn’t really pose
any kind of threat anymore, not since he was ousted, I’m sorry, I meant since
he stepped down (the first Pope to resign since 1415!), but Joseph Ratzinger
shouldn’t really be allowed to get away with years of shielding paedophile
priests, with subjecting women in poor countries to the servitude of continuous
motherhood, with furthering the spread of HIV by not allowing people to use
condoms. There’s no way he should be holed up in comfort somewhere in the
Vatican City, safe from the clutches of journalists. He should be out to face
his crimes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Talk of Ratzinger reminds me that
it was he who gave his blessing to Rebecca Kadaga, the Speaker of the Ugandan
Parliament, who promised to pass the notorious Ugandan “Kill the Gays” bill as
a “Christmas gift”. She should not go unpunished.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfJ1rfZZttP0sBO_fKOUTlUWRBdAZUjUOPCN-Slfw7qiOqKVnXynSyALxsedt3s6EUsFXGfYMBTMQU8ljIjTh_qGa24o2iYmABpBKfPPzPFVBcBi3zWZOK540WiKRxXWy7JAguXf1i-Hr/s1600/Nigerias-President-Goodluck-Ebele-Jonathan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfJ1rfZZttP0sBO_fKOUTlUWRBdAZUjUOPCN-Slfw7qiOqKVnXynSyALxsedt3s6EUsFXGfYMBTMQU8ljIjTh_qGa24o2iYmABpBKfPPzPFVBcBi3zWZOK540WiKRxXWy7JAguXf1i-Hr/s1600/Nigerias-President-Goodluck-Ebele-Jonathan.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodluck Jonathan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Nor should Goodluck Jonathan, Nigeria’s
president, who has just passed a “Jail the Gays” law, which is already
spreading untold misery for anyone who is, or is even suspected of being, gay. “One
of the most dangerous anti-LGBT leaders that we have in the world today,”
according to Chad Griffin of the Human Rights Campaign, we should just do the
world a favour and add him to the list. He certainly won’t be missed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YvRBB1t8IWkz498zH-NBcORc0OZ7os7hWVQ-1UsOVv4GzZaNbp980FcqUHFVAFdjHGp-59nQ8GSbXdjkCElB98L4RWVfy4nhGBUhQz_ZGNFEfdHKaiPaHRx1aT_qck2Y4E6mnHzpildu/s1600/peter-labarbera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YvRBB1t8IWkz498zH-NBcORc0OZ7os7hWVQ-1UsOVv4GzZaNbp980FcqUHFVAFdjHGp-59nQ8GSbXdjkCElB98L4RWVfy4nhGBUhQz_ZGNFEfdHKaiPaHRx1aT_qck2Y4E6mnHzpildu/s1600/peter-labarbera.jpg" height="136" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter LaBarbera</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HgHODU1jwOk/Uwjidl_at4I/AAAAAAAADSw/cMeX_3YLU7c/s1600/Lively-Russia-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HgHODU1jwOk/Uwjidl_at4I/AAAAAAAADSw/cMeX_3YLU7c/s1600/Lively-Russia-cropped.jpg" height="136" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott Lively</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Only yesterday two long-time
opponents of the U.S. Gay Rights movement announced a coalition that will seek
to persuade more countries around the world to follow Russia’s <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>example in
passing laws that restrict gay rights. The pressure they are exerting has
already worked in countries like Uganda and Nigeria and is spreading like a
cancer throughout Africa. The coalition
consists of Massachusetts based evangelical lawyer Scott Lively, and Peter
LaBarbera of <b>Americans for Truth About Homosexuality</b>, which does the exact
reverse of what it says on the packet, delighting in unsubstantiated “facts”
and un-truths. Feeling that they have lost the battle in the US and Europe,
they are taking their hatred<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to third
world countries, where lack of education and ignorance prevails, their mission
to encourage allies abroad to lobby their own governments and follow Russia’s
example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would they really be missed?</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
Back in the UK, some of you may
not yet be aware of the name of Andrea Minichiello Williams, a UK Evangelist
who recently travelled to Jamaica to urge their government to keep the law that
criminalises homosexuality. She links Tom Daly’s recent coming out about his
sexuality to the death of his father and, like the Russians, still insists
there is a link between homosexuality and paedophilia, despite compelling
evidence to the contrary. She is strongly opposed to a bill at present going through
parliament that seeks to ban gay-to-straight conversion therapy. Apparently it
is the government that lacks compassion, not her radical <b>Christian Concern</b>
charity, though why it has maintained its charitable status is beyond me. There
is nothing charitable about it. She’s been a little quiet over the last month
or so, but I’m sure she has some other dastardly scheme up her sleeve. Society
offender? Absolutely.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qNNo8eLv1aQMxuIjkMg77Ilw-U04m-jv7DmAbCzkc6ifKs7RPJrblCDGdSJF-s9QolGcqM5eAr-FxVaydwbdSNQHZcbDjqPJ5J_h8v4T1S0qAqtCs6mvAsgOBqGJV7iGCfgVrAljDyVT/s1600/williams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qNNo8eLv1aQMxuIjkMg77Ilw-U04m-jv7DmAbCzkc6ifKs7RPJrblCDGdSJF-s9QolGcqM5eAr-FxVaydwbdSNQHZcbDjqPJ5J_h8v4T1S0qAqtCs6mvAsgOBqGJV7iGCfgVrAljDyVT/s1600/williams.jpg" height="265" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrea Minichiello Williams</td></tr>
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<br />
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And so finally I come to all
those religious extremists, most with names too long and complicated to
remember. Zealots one and all, the problem with this lot is that you no sooner
get rid of one, than another pops up somewhere else. Far more dangerous than
any of those I’ve mentioned by name, they’re pretty indiscriminate about whom
they kill in their quest for world dominance. Flying planes into tall buildings
and blowing up buses and tube stations means you’re probably going to kill
quite a few innocent people of all faiths, including your own, but that is just
considered damage waiver. What on earth do we do about this lot? I must admit
they have me stumped.</div>
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Of course one solution might be
just to line all Gods up in front of the firing squad. That they may not
themselves be responsible for the atrocities continually committed in their
name, is very true, but you have to admit that they’re not really doing much to
stop them. Then of course there is another problem here. None of these Gods actually
exist, so how on earth am I supposed to find them.</div>
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I have no doubt that some of the
above mentioned will have their own little lists, and I also have no doubt,
that in the extremely unlikely event that any of them had even heard of me, I
would figure high on those lists. The worrying thing is that, though my list
might merely be a bit of harmless fun, I feel sure that they, with the possible
exception of the Daily Mail columnists, would have no compunction about
slaughtering all the people on their little lists, and would probably glory in
doing so. It’s what they do. Whereas I, a self-proclaimed atheist and humanist,
have never willingly or wilfully done anything that might harm another human
being, most of those above do, and are doing so on a daily basis. Think of
that, if you’ve got this far and find you’re a little offended. Well I did warn
you.</div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-54081829820023024202014-01-30T01:21:00.001-08:002014-01-30T01:21:44.380-08:00A group of reviews for TheGayUK<i>I haven't added much to my blog recently, so thought I'd group together here some of my recent reviews for <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a></i>.<br />
<br />
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The two DVDs that came through my letterbox just after
Christmas could not be more different, though both come from our friends over
at Matchbox Films.</div>
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The first of the two I watched was <b><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Having You</span></b>, written and directed by Sam Hoare. There are some great
performances here, from Andrew Buchan as recovering alcoholic Jack, from Philip
Davis as his thoroughly nasty and unlikeable father, from Romola Garai, as
Jack’s beautiful girlfriend, from the gorgeous Steven Cree as Jack’s business
partner and sponsor, and from the ever watchable Anna Friel as Anna, a blast
from the past who drops a bombshell on Jack that he finds difficult to come to
terms with. </div>
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It’s a gentle, watchable movie, which draws you in, but I confess
to finding it somewhat manipulative with an ending that is just a little too
pat to be convincing. None the less, worth catching if you have a couple of
hours to spare one evening. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
***</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhGqt4PDLXpeukPQsWxr3NsR_phw2i8IkSipdu1LtOP5EJl3WDOaUkeh4OsrfV13Q_9XUumZ6HO7MsgYJpijF95QkSTkJKC0KSlFq5IiHrPzCPtgDiqw3Hg8sOUZtyoHvGDoPJHcArEkz/s1600/Exposed_Beyond_Burlesque-643481134-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhGqt4PDLXpeukPQsWxr3NsR_phw2i8IkSipdu1LtOP5EJl3WDOaUkeh4OsrfV13Q_9XUumZ6HO7MsgYJpijF95QkSTkJKC0KSlFq5IiHrPzCPtgDiqw3Hg8sOUZtyoHvGDoPJHcArEkz/s1600/Exposed_Beyond_Burlesque-643481134-large.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Director Beth B brings us <b><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Exposed: Beyond Burlesque</span></b>, an expose of the ‘new’ burlesque scene,
which seeks to challenge traditional ideas of body, gender and sexuality. A
mixture of interviews, glimpses backstage and filmed performances, we are
introduced to an engaging group of individuals, who might also, in other
circumstances, be called misfits. According to Mat Fraser, an English performer
with phocomelia of both arms due to his mother being prescribed thalidomide
during her pregnancy, burlesque is an honest and sometimes brutal art form. It
can also be extremely vulgar, which is I suppose the point. There is a lot of
naked flesh on show, though very little in the way of titillation. Maybe, to
fully experience the power of these acts, one has to be in the audience, but
most of the interest really comes from the interviews, and the performers’
often quirky view of life; at its heart a touching little love story between
Mat Fraser and Julie Atlas Muz. Truth to tell, it is a little long and could
have done with some judicious pruning. I found my mind wandering quite a bit
after the first hour.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
***</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SmeIKb8sVstiIUkZEWUWfr8pS7OPGDaOYQbAbFsmL26c7v6O2wab7KDwNcbnL40Zi9vHtIy4SWIYaZTk9rjypBbGvflq16kj2KdCDYrezU34TsAEXgCjYek9fhuXzK8TaFn-SbH3Y3hV/s1600/IMG_6491a+CLUB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SmeIKb8sVstiIUkZEWUWfr8pS7OPGDaOYQbAbFsmL26c7v6O2wab7KDwNcbnL40Zi9vHtIy4SWIYaZTk9rjypBbGvflq16kj2KdCDYrezU34TsAEXgCjYek9fhuXzK8TaFn-SbH3Y3hV/s1600/IMG_6491a+CLUB.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew Ferdenzi in The Gay Naked Play</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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In <b>The Gay Naked Play</b>, currently at the Above The Stag Theatre in Vauxhall, Dan (Alexander Hulme) is director of the Integrity Players,
a small off off Broadway group of players dedicated to “great art”. The company
also consists of his loving (and very pregnant) wife Amanda (Stacy Sobieski) and
their friend and leading actor Harold (Lucas Livesey). They have lofty
ambitions and a staunch refusal to compromise , but they have one problem. Tiny
audiences. And when their sole and major backer, who just happens to be
Amanda’s Machiavellian mother Imelda (Ellen Verenieks) withdraws her support,
they have an even greater problem. No money. What are they going to do?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Enter Eddie Rossini (Christopher Woodley) and his two
cronies, T.Scott (Robert Hannouch) and Edonis (Toby Joyce). Eddie proposes a
trashy homoerotic stage version of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of Christ”
starring porn star Kit Swagger (Matthew Ferdenzi). It’s a sure fire commercial
hit, but will the Integrity Players give in to financial pressure and in so
doing lose their integrity? I’m not going to give the game away, but I think we
can all guess the answer to that one.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Adam Bell’s play is a witty and often hilarious comment on
the eternal conundrum of artistic compromise; popularity versus art. The
writing itself is often really clever, abounding in quips and one-liners that
wouldn’t have been out of place in an episode of <i>Will and Grace</i>. </div>
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<br /></div>
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My problem was more with the execution. Director Andrew
Beckett has allowed too much of the play to be played on one level, with actors
shamelessly mugging and playing too many of their lines out front. The often
hilarious antics of T.Scott and Edonis would have benefited from a greater
contrast with their boss, Rossini, but he too was encouraged to overplay much
of the comedy, which resulted in a lack of contrast. Surely underplaying the
role would have made it even funnier. It’s a shame, because the play is a lot
of fun, and I feel sure that this cast had it in them to deliver a much more
multi-faceted performance.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That said, the audience on opening night enjoyed themselves
enormously, and nobody was complaining about Matthew Ferdenzi getting his kit
off more than once. Maybe it will settle down a bit in the next few
performances.</div>
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<b>Free Fall </b>(or Freier Fall, to give it its German title) is
an award winning drama from director Stephen Lacant. It has been branded a sort
of German <i>Brokeback Mountain</i>, and indeed there are parallels between the two
movies, but in some ways Free Fall is more gritty, more rooted in the present
day. </div>
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Marc would seem to have his life sorted out. He’s doing well
in the police force, his girlfriend is having a baby, and they have just moved
into a house, next door to Marc’s parents. He is happy (or he thinks he is) and
everything is going well for him. He meets Kay at a training camp and the two
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I suppose the basic storyline has a certain resemblance to
<i>Brokeback Mountain</i>, but there the similarities end. Whereas in Brokeback much
of the romance is played out against the magnificent scenery of Wyoming, this
relationship is much more claustrophobic, harder to hide as so much of their
life is in plain view; not much chance for the men to get away from their
colleagues and Marc’s family.</div>
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Ultimately the movie is not just about Marc’s coming to
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the freedom to walk away from the life that has been set out for him by his
parents, his colleagues and his girlfriend. Marc finds it impossible to choose
between Bettina and Kay because he can’t decide between the two lives they
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Ultimately that choice is made for him, and though we do not
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<br /></div>
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With superb performances from the two central actors, Hanno
Koffler as Marc and Max Riemelt as Kay, not to mention Katharina Schuttler as
Marc’s girlfriend Bettina, it is an engaging and involving movie, beautifully
filmed and subtly played out. Lacant directs with a sure hand which is honest
and true. Recommended.</div>
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****</div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-16471814862343294852014-01-02T04:18:00.001-08:002014-01-02T04:18:55.857-08:00My Best of 2013Much of the latter part of this year has been taken up with reviews for <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">www.thegayuk.com</a> so I've elected to finish 2013 with a list of my ten best of the year.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3Dq_iep9kZVF9xssH8nG4gkAP-GY9_HMd-6ie6HRzVKyxYaCsV98i4Ff3rH23V2LGYdOPqGOL_nVWAoCeRIB1KNpo6VtHZ4sp779CU16F6F9i9_iJPBv7KQ5mzHdznnPBYdXst5g4h1B/s1600/A-Chorus-Line-at-the-London-Palladium.-Photo-by-Manuel-Harlan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3Dq_iep9kZVF9xssH8nG4gkAP-GY9_HMd-6ie6HRzVKyxYaCsV98i4Ff3rH23V2LGYdOPqGOL_nVWAoCeRIB1KNpo6VtHZ4sp779CU16F6F9i9_iJPBv7KQ5mzHdznnPBYdXst5g4h1B/s400/A-Chorus-Line-at-the-London-Palladium.-Photo-by-Manuel-Harlan.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Chorus Line</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Sadly, my first choice only managed a run of a few months at
the London Palladium, nor is it a show I reviewed myself. The original Broadway
production of <i>A Chorus Line</i> opened in
1975 and ran for 6,137 performances, garnering
no less than 12 Tony Awards. It was the longest running musical in
Broadway history, until overtaken by <i>Cats</i>
in 1997. Here in London it managed a respectable 3 year run, when it opened at
the enormous Theatre Royal, Drury Lane in 1976. The Palladium revival was a
loving re-creation of the original, using Michael Bennett’s original
choreography (Bennett died in 1987 of AIDS related lymphoma), and it brought
back many memories of when I was a young dancer, working in the West End. This
revival was every bit as brilliant as the original production and various
reasons were offered as to why it was not as huge a success this time round. Apparently
it had minority interest (only dancers and people in show business could have
any interest in the travails of being a Broadway/West End hoofer); at 90
minutes without an interval, it was too long and attention flagged; it lacked spectacle
being set, for the most part, on an empty stage with dancers in practice
clothes. But this was all true the first time round, and the show was a huge
success back then. Audiences have changed, I suppose. Certainly the second time
I attended this revival (on press night) the audience seemed more interested in
being seen themselves than watching the show. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xx-CkyLcXg/UsVXRbeVheI/AAAAAAAADPk/B3Sxuv7Atec/s1600/once_2531425b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xx-CkyLcXg/UsVXRbeVheI/AAAAAAAADPk/B3Sxuv7Atec/s320/once_2531425b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once</td></tr>
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I did review my next musical of choice, and am happy to
report that it is still running at the Phoenix Theatre, and absolutely demands
to be seen. <i>Once</i> was originally a
charming indie film, which has been expanded and fleshed out to make a full
evening at the theatre. The stage of the Phoenix has been decked out to look
like an Irish pub, where members of the audience can enjoy a drink before the show
and during the interval. Almost imperceptibly the show starts, while the
audience are still making their way to their seats. Not really a musical in any
conventional sense, it is original, charming, sublimely poetic, moving,
eloquent, and stylish. Don’t miss it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6m80nhl1GBHiTlWm3lm4RvtHst6TZhsF-nbvU0tmQEaypSF10c4QFqlkU4nqwzYe6wb9EIqDaM5k_5okxk-JsXWjnjLoEfGQVNQq4kGPde_B-JoCveh6i4aZzj0Pn5-J7XwkNgycc5G7_/s1600/37292a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6m80nhl1GBHiTlWm3lm4RvtHst6TZhsF-nbvU0tmQEaypSF10c4QFqlkU4nqwzYe6wb9EIqDaM5k_5okxk-JsXWjnjLoEfGQVNQq4kGPde_B-JoCveh6i4aZzj0Pn5-J7XwkNgycc5G7_/s1600/37292a.jpg" /></a></div>
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Of my next three choices, only one is still running in the
West End, though the Menier Theatre production of Sondheim’s <i>Merrily We Roll Along</i> enjoyed a new
lease of life when the production was filmed and shown in cinemas up and down
the country. Maybe it will eventually also get a DVD release. It has always
been one of my favourite Sondheim shows, though its rather cynical message
found little favour among audiences when it was first produced back in 1981,
when it ran for 44 previews and only 16 performances. At least Maria Friedman’s
debut production for the Menier Theatre did a lot better than that. Given a
slightly more upbeat twist by Friedman and via a few deft re-writes by
Sondheim, and with some fabulous performances (particularly Jenna Russell as
Mary and Damian Humbley as Charlie) this was a sure-fire hit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFK-3_9uAEbMvay9sjbiPm_7FkTPQoPwOBOKhuqe_IkLo7ekk3w0FGuNYU3uv3xihdJ6-YqRLb_-Nr8030cWbYMS8E99qZ_Yrnwgth3L-o41dJc2kunqSYOnGcg2yJQOVdran-zy3p_SLt/s1600/the-pride-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFK-3_9uAEbMvay9sjbiPm_7FkTPQoPwOBOKhuqe_IkLo7ekk3w0FGuNYU3uv3xihdJ6-YqRLb_-Nr8030cWbYMS8E99qZ_Yrnwgth3L-o41dJc2kunqSYOnGcg2yJQOVdran-zy3p_SLt/s320/the-pride-poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not to be missed was Jamie Lloyd’s revival of Alexi Kayle
Campbell’s superb <i>The Pride</i> at the
Trafalgar Studos. This superb play that juxtaposes two parallel love stories,
one from the 1950s and one from today, deftly reminds us that prejudice is
still here, despite the strides we have made in recent years. With fantastic
performances all round, this was an extremely memorable night in the theatre.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Still running (though the Apollo has been closed for a while
after part of the ceiling collapsed a couple of weeks ago) is the National
Theatre’s production of <i>The Curious Incident
of the Dog in the Night-Time</i>. Wonderfully inventive, superbly theatrical,
this adaptation of Mark Haddon’s popular novel will no doubt run for years. We
were fortunate enough to book our tickets a few days before the production won
no less than 7 Olivier awards, as it sold out completely after that. I’m sure
it’ll be around for quite a while yet though.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Andrew Lloyd Webber and Time Rice are back in the West End
this year, though not working together this time. Lloyd Webber ‘s new musical <i>Stephen Ward</i> is at present previewing at
the Aldwych and Time Rice’s musical version of <i>From Here To Eternity</i> (with music by Stuart Brayson) opened at the
Shaftesbury Theatre in October. In many ways a reassuringly old fashioned
musical (it is not sung through and has a very strong libretto by Bill Oakes),
it is a thoroughly enjoyable, brilliantly conceived and executed new show.
Let’s hope it has a deservedly long run.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the cinema, I got the chance to review HBO’s <i>Behind the Candelabra</i>, made for TV, but
here given a theatrical release. Stephen Soderbegh’s direction is not always
sure footed, and the film drags a little in the middle, which might be less
noticeable in the context of a TV movie. He does however get wonderful
performances out of his all star cast. Aside from Rob Lowe’s brilliantly immobile plastic surgeon, there
are some great cameos from Dan Ackroyd, Scott Bakula and Debbie Reynolds
(remember her?), but the movie succeeds or fails on the work of its two stars,
and both Michael Douglas and Matt Damon give faultless performances. Damon is
thoroughly believable as the star struck young innocent who gradually descends
into drug addiction, and Michael Douglas quite simply gives one of the best
performances of his career. It would have been so easy, and so tempting, to
overplay the role and come up with a clownish caricature, but Douglas
completely avoids that trap, and comes up with a performance of great subtlety,
which deservedly won him an Emmy Award.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I didn’t review <i>I Want
Your Love</i> which was granted a limited cinema release in the UK. Given the
amount of explicit sex in the film, this is hardly surprising. Like <i>Shortbus</i> before it, director Travis
Matthews breaks new bounds in how to present sex on the screen. The sex, and
there is a lot of it, is real, and we get to see everything; blow jobs,
penetration, cum shots, the lot. What makes it different from your bog standard
porn movie is that this features real actors, and very good ones at that,
pushing the boundaries of what they will do on screen in the context of a role.
The sex scenes are handled rather differently than they would be in a porno,
and much more sensitively; the connection between the actors, the reactions on
their faces rather more important than the sex itself, though the camera
doesn’t shy away from that either. There’s not a lot of plot, so it certainly
doesn’t keep you on the edge of the seat wondering what will happen next. It’s
one of those movies in which people spend a lot of time talking to each other;
about their feelings, about their relationships, about work. I found it totally
immersing and involving. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRCkhiG4SQqvYQ660MXyt24RzbzSlQSl7YOganrOYtGtbk_mFk7QeYwb3gzs-Jv1RXOCsNmGdCUIiCgRN5XSFN1xH5lJ2ZTcjUqOHJwpes0aZDU5y0cPghB05U5paGa4AJ6XHVSg1vlPA/s1600/Peter+Staley,+ACT+UP+arrest+-+HiRes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRCkhiG4SQqvYQ660MXyt24RzbzSlQSl7YOganrOYtGtbk_mFk7QeYwb3gzs-Jv1RXOCsNmGdCUIiCgRN5XSFN1xH5lJ2ZTcjUqOHJwpes0aZDU5y0cPghB05U5paGa4AJ6XHVSg1vlPA/s400/Peter+Staley,+ACT+UP+arrest+-+HiRes.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How To Survive A Plague - Peter Staley</td></tr>
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Though I understand that many will not respond to <i>I Want Your Love</i> as I did, I do
recommend unreservedly David France’s masterly documentary <i>How To Survive A Plague</i>. This remarkable movie tells the story of a
small group of men and women in America, most of them HIV positive, who battled
against government indifference and departmental incompetence, to save their
own lives. In so doing they helped save the lives of 6.000,000. Gripping,
moving, inspiring, at times emotionally draining, it is a story that demands to
be told. Required viewing for every gay man, particularly those under the age of
30.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TopOtSieeOLDY59UZuXCSbvOYistc75XgGNJcLNw4FpxLZNfQ7d94R1g7e8M0sbTB8HSRxhno2QrU7bruaAIu8OtaDPo6hkIYm1csFa2pKt86MHOO10QxfcdbMoIDuwAtTpfOJmK1x0c/s1600/dont-ever-wipe_2752667b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TopOtSieeOLDY59UZuXCSbvOYistc75XgGNJcLNw4FpxLZNfQ7d94R1g7e8M0sbTB8HSRxhno2QrU7bruaAIu8OtaDPo6hkIYm1csFa2pKt86MHOO10QxfcdbMoIDuwAtTpfOJmK1x0c/s400/dont-ever-wipe_2752667b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't Ever Wipe Tears Without Gloves</td></tr>
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And finally to a great piece of television, shown just this
last month on BBC4. <i>Don’t Ever Wipe Tears
Without Gloves</i> is an award winning Swedish three parter, based on novelist
Jonas Gardell’s trilogy about the impact of AIDS on the gay community in Sweden
in the early 1980s. Subtly and sensitively acted, and beautifully filmed, this
was great television, the last of its three episodes almost unbearably moving,
so much so that I watched it through a film of tears. If you missed its network
TV showing, then do not hesitate to buy it on DVD, but make sure you have a box
of tissues at the ready.<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-86064561570518214202013-11-17T07:33:00.002-08:002013-11-17T07:38:32.282-08:00It's ok to be different, isn't it?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>This article first appeared in <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/">www.thegayuk.com</a> on Thursday 21/9/2013, National Stand Up Day</i></div>
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My school days are such a long time ago now that I barely
remember them, or is it that I just blotted them out? They seem to belong to a different person who
has absolutely nothing to do with the person I am now. I had no idea I would
turn out to be gay, though anyone with half a brain could probably have figured
it out. I was dancing (in my pram) before I could walk, singing perfectly in
tune before I had the slightest idea what I was singing about (all lyrics
reduced to lalala), and my favourite films were those involving plenty of song
and dance, Fred and Ginger in particular. From an early age, all I wanted to do
was dance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This always singled me out as being a little different, but
my earliest days at primary school were surprisingly happy. It was a mixed
school and the other boys didn’t seem to mind that I preferred hanging out with
the girls and not playing football with them. Well, they probably reasoned, at
least they were spared having to pick me to be in their team. My school was in
the middle of a highly middle class part of my home town, and the other pupils
all came from the same area. Our parents all knew each other. It was a safe and
cosy environment. Even so, though I don’t ever remember feeling physically
threatened at my primary school, I had to learn to toss off the occasional
jibes about being a sissy and a big girl. However in my last year or two, when
I was sitting my eleven plus and preparing to go either to an all-boys Grammar
School if I passed, or an all-boys Public School if I didn’t, I started to be
picked on that bit more. School was not the fun place it had been when I was
younger. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I had been taking tap dancing lessons since I was five and
would constantly sail through my various exams. Dancing was not a boy’s pursuit
though. The penny dropped when I looked around at one of the annual dance
school displays and realised I was the only boy on stage. That was probably
behind my decision to give up dancing lessons. l My dancing teacher, a friend
of the family whom I knew as Auntie Joy, was pressing my mother and father to
get me to start ballet. She had been a professional ballet dancer herself and
an Honours Associate of the Royal Academy of Dance. She thought that,
physically, I had the perfect proportions to be a ballet dancer. However, no
amount of cajoling on the part of my parents was to make me change my mind. I
had decided that there was no way I was going to be going to ballet class when
I got to my next school, and, it has to be admitted, my parents didn’t try that
hard to persuade me otherwise. It had been bad enough been singled out for
going to tap dancing lessons. I was hardly going to make things worse for
myself by doing ballet. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Secondary school (the local grammar) was to prove a terrible
culture shock. It was my first exposure to boys from the other side of town,
boys who were bright enough to pass their eleven plus, some of whom lived on
council estates, and who had built up their own set of tools to deal with the
harsher environment they came from. Grammar School was pretty egalitarian in
that respect. Boys attending came from all over the town, not one single
catchment area. No doubt to many of them,
it appeared I had a privileged existence, and in some ways I had. We holidayed
in Greece (staying with my grandparents there) when air travel was only for the
rich; my father ran his own business and drove a Jaguar. This was enough to
single me out, but it probably didn’t help that, though I no longer went to
dance classes, I maintained a keen interest in theatre and dance, and would
often participate in local operatic society productions, for which my father
was musical director. No doubt, all this would have been forgotten if I’d been
a keen football player or rugby player, but I had absolutely no interest in
sport. At primary school I had made friends with all the girls. Here there were
no girls. I found it hard to make friends and I became an easy target. Nobody
actually called me gay (well the word didn’t exist back then), but I was called
a sissy and a poof, without any of us really understanding what that meant. You
have to remember homosexuality was illegal in those days. There was no way I
was going to admit to myself, let alone anyone else, that I was gay, and I
still assumed that I would meet a girl, get married and have children. I knew
virtually nothing about sex. Children were much more innocent in those days.
Still the other boys sensed I was different, and this is what separated me from
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I wasn’t the only boy to be bullied and ostracised though.
There were others, who found it harder to get on than me, and I briefly
befriended some of them, though ignominiously dumped them when I realised that
being friends with them was doing me no good whatsoever. I remember one boy committed suicide while I
was there. He was an odd, skinny, intellectual boy, with National Health
glasses held together with Elastoplast, evidently from a poor family. Nobody
would have anything to do with him, and even the teachers teased him. When he
died, there was an announcement in assembly, but the whole sorry business was
glossed over. There was never any attempt to tackle bullying in the school,
and, truth to tell, the teachers often colluded in it, the idea being that a
certain amount of bullying was good for the softer kids, that it was character
building.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My elder brother had
gone to the same school 4 years before me, and, though we fought like cat and
dog at home, he was to prove to be my protector in my early years at Grammar school.
He couldn’t be there all the time of course, but at least I had his protection
on the walk home from school, and more than once he turned on boys who were
calling me names. I don’t know how I’d have coped without him. I wouldn’t have
known how to fight back and, other than my brother, my only defence was speed.
I could outrun most of the boys in my year, a fact that was first brought home
to me on the day we had some athletics tests. To the amazement of all the other
boys, who had assumed all sissy boys were useless at sport, I came first in my
year in the 100 and 220 (yards, not metres in those days) and also tested well
in the long jump. My games master encouraged me to join the athletics team, but
I flatly refused, not because I didn’t enjoy running and jumping, but because I
didn’t want to spend any more time than I had to with boys who bullied and
threatened me. So, for the second time, I didn’t do something I was good at out
of fear, out of fear for what the other boys would do to me. I had earned a
somewhat grudging respect because I could run, so the physical bullying
stopped, but the verbal jibes continued. I was a sensitive child and it hurt. It’s
taken me a long time to learn to ignore people who seek to hurt with words.
Indeed the scars can take a lifetime to heal. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The only place I felt safe was in music classes, and my viola
teacher, who knew how horrific games lessons were for me, ended up programming
my viola lessons at the same time as the games periods, telling the headmaster
there were no other slots available. I was eternally grateful to him. A kind, gentle,
quietly spoken man, with weirdly wax like hands and fingers, I have no doubt
that, though married, he was gay, not that I knew or guessed that at the time,
but looking back, it seems plausible enough. I’m sure he recognised a kindred
spirit. Still, in a more accepting environment, maybe I would not have accepted
his offer of programming my viola classes so I could skip games. I admit I rather
regret not participating in sport at school now. To this day, I feel a mild
sense of panic when someone throws a ball at me, or puts a bat in my hand. I feel
I’ve missed out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When my brother went to university, I had to find a way to
survive without him. I did so by if not actually mixing with the bad boys in
school, by allying myself with them. I started smoking, let it be believed that
I had a string of girlfriends. I’d buy girlie magazines like Mayfair, and make
sure the other boys got to see them, though, in all honesty, nothing in their
pages really did much for me. Still, they had the desired effect. I started bunking off school too. Suddenly I
was cool and the bullying stopped.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But of course I wasn’t cool. My schoolwork started to
suffer. Much to the mortification of my parents, I was hauled up in front of
the headmaster on more than one occasion. Though I managed to pass 6 out of 7
of my ‘O’ levels (we took a maximum of 7 in those days), I didn’t get the
grades I should have done. I went from being one of the top three boys in my
class to one of the bottom few. My ‘A’ level results were even worse, and I
ended up having to go to a college to re-study and re-sit my English and
French, in an attempt to improve my grades. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I suppose I was luckier than many. I never actually got
beaten up (because I could runs so fast), and most of what I had to deal with
was just words. Just words? I remember shouting back at my tormentors, “Sticks
and stones can hurt my bones, but words can never hurt me.” But it wasn’t true.
Words can and do hurt. They hurt me; both emotionally at the time and also in
stopping me doing things I was good at and should have enjoyed. I don’t know if
I’d ever have been a great ballet dancer or a great sprinter, but the point is
I never got to find out, nor did I find my true academic potential. Hell-bent
on survival, education was all but forgotten. How many other young people are not
doing well at school because of bullying and peer pressure? I have no doubt it
is thousands. We hear of the tragic cases, of those , like that young boy at my
school, who are driven to take their own lives, and that one young person
should feel death is the only way out is reason enough to ensure we, as adults,
do everything in our power to stop another child taking their own life. We
should also be considering the wider implications of children not reaching
their full potential because of the way they are treated by their peers at
school. Children feel that they need to fit in, and respond easily to peer
pressure. What we need to do is celebrate diversity. We still live in a culture
where the boy who is good at football is going to be feted and revered, whilst
the boy who is good at ballet is more likely to be ridiculed and called names. We
need to tell children that you can be different and still fit in, but until we
can celebrate diversity in the adult world, how can we hope to make things
better for children?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-68670846612928405912013-10-10T08:57:00.005-07:002013-10-10T08:57:57.952-07:00Olympic Shame<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So the IOC is “fully satisfied” that Russia’s anti-gay law
doesn’t violate the Olympic Charter. Principle 6 of the Charter says: "<i>Any form of
discrimination with regard to a country or a person on grounds of race,
religion, politics, gender or otherwise is incompatible with belonging to the
Olympic Movement.</i>" Sexuality
isn’t mentioned specifically (though, in the light of recent events, it seems
clear to me that it should be), but it is surely understood within the term
“otherwise”. However, according to Jean-Claude Killy, chairman of the IOC Coordination Commission for
Sochi 2014, this only applies to Olympic territory, not to the country as a
whole. He is satisfied that there will be no discrimination of any kind in the
Olympic village, and adds that the IOC doesn't really have the right to discuss
the laws in the country where the Olympic Games are organised. Does this also
apply then to any other country with human rights transgressions? If that is
the case, can we see a time when the Olympics are taken to Zimbabwe for
instance? <o:p></o:p></div>
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As it happens, the IOC don’t quite seem to believe the
assurances themselves, as they are already warning athletes that any support
for LGBT issues will be seen as political, and any athlete using the Games for
political demonstration will be punished accordingly. The message that seems to
be coming across here is that it is ok for Russia to discriminate against LGBT
people, but not ok for anyone to speak up about it. Athletes are being advised
to keep a low profile, deny who they are, if they are gay. This being the case,
surely that would mean a legally married gay athlete might win a medal, but
would not be allowed to publicly celebrate that event with their husband or
wife because that would be against Russian law. Is that what you are saying, Mr
Killy? I’m just asking for a little clarity on the issue, because clarity is
something that has been sadly lacking. The only thing that seems clear is that
the IOC will do anything to appease Putin and the Russians, and very little to
stand up for LGBT rights.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the recent U.S. Olympic Media summit in Park City, Utah,
the US Olympic Committee had briefed athletes, telling them to stick to talk of
sport and duck any issues regarding the Russian anti-gay law. Bravely Olympic gold
medallist, skier Bode Miller, refused to be silenced. The IOC’s rules prohibit
athletes from making political demonstrations at Games sites, but he took it as
an opportunity to speak out about the duplicity that exists in sport. “There are politics in sports and athletics,
and they’re always intertwined,” Miller said. “Even though people try to keep
them separate, or try to act like they’re separate, I think asking athletes to
go somewhere and compete and be a representative of a philosophy and all that
different crap that kind of goes along with it, and then tell them they can’t
express their views or they can’t say what they believe, I think is pretty
hypocritical and unfair. But, you know the fact is, crappy situations like
that have been happening for a long time.<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span>I think it’s absolutely embarrassing that
there’s countries, there’s people, that are intolerant, that are ignorant.”<br />
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That, of course, is the nub of it. The IOC, and political
leaders in the West constantly talk about keeping politics out of sport, but
sport <i>is</i> political. I have no doubt
that Putin sees the Olympics in terms of politics. There was a time, after the
fall of the Berlin wall, when Russia was losing its place on the world stage,
and Putin has been intent on winning that back by whatever means necessary. The
Olympics will be a chance for him to show off Russian wealth and power, and he
is using them in exactly the same way Hitler used the Berlin Olympics back in
1936. The IOC chose then to ignore all warnings about what was happening to
Jews in Germany, and look what happened. In hindsight that might have seemed
inexcusable, but it was much easier to ignore the warnings back then, much
harder to find the evidence. Now it is not. The internet has seen to it that,
try as they might, the Russians can’t hide what is going on in their own
country, but, surprisingly, or maybe not, depending on how you view the IOC,
officials are still ignoring all reports of the violence being perpetrated
towards LGBT people, most of it silently condoned by the police and the Russian
government. And, let’s face it, whatever happens within the Olympic village,
there have already been veiled threats from Russian officials that, outside it,
the new law will be vigorously enforced.
The only advice that seems to be coming from the IOC is to keep a low
profile and go back into the closet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In other words, the
IOC has totally failed to comprehend the scale of the problem in Russia, no
doubt because of the inherent homophobia that still exists in sport as a whole.
Come on, you can’t tell me that, out of the over 2000 athletes who competed in
London in 2012, only 23 were gay. The reason there were only 23 is because the
majority of LGBT sportsmen and women fear discrimination and ostracism from
within their own ranks, and until that is addressed then I doubt very much will
change.<o:p></o:p></div>
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However, it is not
only LGBT rights that are in question in Russia. Not so very long ago, two
members of the girl group Pussy Riot were given prison sentences for daring to
stage a protest against Putin. One of the women, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, went
on hunger strike in prison to protest lengthy work shifts, miserable payment
for work, and the existence of illegal prison disciplinarian groups made up of
inmates loyal to the administration, complaints held up by Members of Russia’s
Presidential Council for Human Rights. Tolokonnikova was moved to a hospital on
medical grounds and has ended her hunger strike, but has vowed to start it
again if her demands for an investigation into rights violations in her penal
colony, the removal of "psychological pressure" on inmates in the
colony who talked about penitentiary conditions to inspectors, and her transfer
to another penitentiary are not met. <o:p></o:p></div>
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More recently the Russians have seized a Greenpeace ship
that was protesting against Russian oil drilling in the ecologically sensitive
Arctic, accusing the activists and the two journalists on board of piracy, a
crime which carries a 15 year jail sentence in Russia. This is a trumped up
charge if ever there was one, and yet another example of Russia throwing its
weight around. It’s my belief that the winter Olympics should never have been
given to Russia in the first place, or in fact to any country that has a poor
record on human rights, but can we ever expect the IOC to stand by its own
charter? When money is at stake, I very much doubt it. Unfortunately, by the
time the Games actually start in Sochi in February next year, I fear that all
talk of human rights and human rights transgressions will be completely
forgotten by the media as it gets swept up in the quest for medals and sporting
glory. After all, nothing is more important than sport!<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-65260702597207805962013-09-27T02:17:00.000-07:002013-09-27T02:17:11.030-07:00Interview with a Naked Rower<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>This article first appeared in <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a></i></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7JexHVuXXI/UkVMV6F2tWI/AAAAAAAADMA/qAkTxbaU8fI/s1600/9+Sept+UWBC14_O66A3587_v2+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7JexHVuXXI/UkVMV6F2tWI/AAAAAAAADMA/qAkTxbaU8fI/s320/9+Sept+UWBC14_O66A3587_v2+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was a warm, sunny day in August when I am admitted to the
plush inner sanctum of the Groucho Club in Soho. I am here to interview Angus
Malcolm, the photographer and mastermind behind the incredibly successful
Warwick Rowing Club Naked Calendar, now in its fourth year. Waiting for me at a
table in the corner is Angus himself and an arrestingly beautiful young man, tall,
blond and blue eyed, who is introduced to me as Lawrence, one of the stars of
the coming year’s Naked Calendar from the Warwickshire Rowers. Unfortunately
not naked on this occasion, his well-nigh perfect physique is easily evident
beneath the simple blue jeans and white t-shirt that he is wearing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Trying not to drool too obviously, I turn my attention to
Angus and ask him how the calendar came about and how he became involved.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Well, I was actually a writer and producer in TV and film
and I used to work in the health and charity sector. In 2008 I felt like doing something
different. Having always had a keen interest in photography, I started
photographing men. I was approached by a guy on the website modelmayhem and
found out he was part of rowing team. At the shoot I asked him if the club had
ever thought of doing a charity calendar. As it turned out, he said that they
had been actually thinking very seriously about it, so our meeting was quite
serendipitous really. Initially the calendar was produced simply to fund the
club, but by Year 3 it had started making significant amounts of money, which
meant that we could start giving to charity. It was in year 2 that we started
targeting the gay market, which lead us in year 3 to make a film of the making
of the calendar. Our immediate concern at that time was how to stop it being
pirated, and making it a charity project was a way of guilt tripping people
into not pirating the film. So in the end the calendar raised funds for the
club, and the video was for charity. That’s about to change now though. Instead
of donating to other charities, we are in the process of creating our own.
Basically all the money now goes into a kitty, which we draw on for charitable
objects of this new programme which we are looking at called Sports Allies.
Essentially net profits will be spent on the club or on Sports Allies.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Moving on to the
calendar itself, I mentioned the fact that the photos, particularly in the new
2014 edition, often seem to involve a lot of movement. Was it difficult keeping
the photos G rated?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Both men laughed loudly at this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“It’s a fucking nightmare!” exclaimed Angus. “If you look at
the images in years one and two, you will find that all the photos are very
static. It’s really Calendar Girls with balls, if you like, but now we’re much
more adventurous and doing shots with lots of movement in them, which makes it
far more difficult, particularly if you are shooting more than one rower at a
time. I shoot 365 gigabytes of images and it can take ages to get that one
where nothing is seen. It’s often a case of doing the shot over and over again,
and directing them to lift a leg a little higher or something like that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I asked if some of the guys were any harder to hide than
others (well you would, wouldn’t you?).</div>
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“Bluntly, yes. And sometimes it really is a case of saying
to someone, just go and stand behind that hedge.”</div>
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The film is even more difficult and youtube banned one of
their videos, which is why they gave up on youtube altogether. As I’ve had
cause to mention before the US can be quite draconian about (particularly male)
nudity, and the Rowers have also had problems with their facebook page.
Paradoxically, though, they have had lots of interest from the US, where they find
it quirky that these guys are naked. Angus believes, and I agree with him, that
these large corporations, like youtube and facebook globally have too much
control and are imposing a mid-West culture on the rest of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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However the American
market is huge and people actually flew in from Texas for the live shoot they
did last year, which again raised more money for their charitable causes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The photos certainly have a great sense of fun about them; sexy,
but family friendly, and undoubtedly homoerotic. The guys look as if they are
enjoying themselves enormously, and all look completely unselfconscious about
being naked together. I asked Lawrence if this was actually the case.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lawrence speaks with a quiet confidence that is very
attractive. “Oh yes. We all get on really well. When you train together as long
as we do, you do become close. You have to if you’re going to spend 8 hours in
a boat together in tight lycra. Getting naked is all part of the bonding
process.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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How was it getting your kit off for the first time? <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I had no qualms, but some of the newer guys did at first.
However after half an hour everyone is just fine. Angus is really good at
making people feel comfortable, and of course we shoot around the boat house so
we are also in a familiar environment. Not to mention that the calendar has
been going 4 years now, so the more experienced members make it easier for the
newer ones.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I asked if there were any gay members on the team. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes,” said Lawrence, “but it really isn’t an issue. Not in
the least. Certainly for me, I’m used to open showers. I went to a boys’
boarding school. Showering and getting naked with the other guys seems the most
natural thing in the world to me. And, incidentally, everyone in the team is
aware of the support we get from the gay community and we really appreciate
it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Angus cuts in, “We actually wanted to play on that
ambiguity. The boys are having fun. It’s not sexual fun. But it’s fun none the
less. Of course there is a homoerotic charge in a group of gorgeous athletes
being together naked. It’s there, and it
would be silly to ignore it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last year the proceeds of the film went to the Ben Cohen StandUp
Foundation, and the club will continue to give to the Foundation till the end
of this year. I asked why the Ben Cohen Foundation, and had any of the team any
personal experience of being bullied.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Angus. “Not that anyone actually revealed, but they
immediately saw that Ben’s journey had been similar to theirs. That was the
reason why they chose to give money to his charity. It was a combination of
nudity and a stance around homophobia, and the guys felt they were making a
much more visceral commitment than perhaps even Ben himself. By being completely
naked, they were saying, “We don’t care who looks and who enjoys this and we
are making a stand and saying we support the gay community.” We had lots of
letters and many of the stories came in particular from older men, who wished
that something like this had been around when they were young and how much it
meant to them. And the guys in the team found that particularly moving.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lawrence. “I see it as very important that we straight guys
are seen to be standing up and supporting you. I’ve seen “gay” used quite
regularly in a pejorative sense – and that’s the most that I witnessed
personally, but I think it’s wrong. I’ve also read plenty of moving stories that
have been sent to us, one being from a guy in the police force who nearly lost
his job because of being gay and him telling us how much he appreciated what we
were doing,” and that seemed a good place to wind things up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Having seen the
images in the new calendar, it certainly seems to me that each year improves on
the previous one. It’ll certainly be going on my wall next year.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For more information on the 2014 calendar and film, please
go to <a href="http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/warwick-rowing-naked-calendar/">http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/warwick-rowing-naked-calendar/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-7292730403186851002013-08-31T02:08:00.000-07:002015-02-24T12:59:24.659-08:00Naked. It's The New Black<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMA0GoVwr658yopBhHQ84oOaEVnoBzotjo0uGW7mzl8Qwov7Hyj3h7bq3Oyl8lDil0cUFW42AfTf99zvUVYlgrWBh09ie0Z6SlrqE9L4R6peLCfACQ1G_7_gjDKxlQgIEMsfCmwMF4VYqg/s1600/sbn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMA0GoVwr658yopBhHQ84oOaEVnoBzotjo0uGW7mzl8Qwov7Hyj3h7bq3Oyl8lDil0cUFW42AfTf99zvUVYlgrWBh09ie0Z6SlrqE9L4R6peLCfACQ1G_7_gjDKxlQgIEMsfCmwMF4VYqg/s400/sbn.jpg" height="153" width="400" /></a></div>
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Has anyone noticed the recent proliferation of naked clubs
taking place in London? Almost any night of the week you can find naked goings
on. We have Stripped at the Vault, Buff at the Backstreet, Butt Naked at
Central Station, and, of course, SBN at the Hoist. In addition to these,
Nudity, a monthly feature at the Union in Vauxhall, is becoming more and more
popular, and is especially busy when they have their regular foam parties.
These days, if you go to Hard On, there will be a huge number of completely
naked guys (more by the end of the evening of course), so what does this mean
for the fetish scene? Is it just that naked is so much cheaper than all that leather
and rubber?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Admittedly the majority of naked nights are in cruise bars,
which are primarily sex clubs, but what is interesting is that the naked scene
seems to be taking over from the fetish scene. Guy Irwin, the owner of the
Hoist, one of London’s most foremost leather and fetish bars was at one time
adamant that he would never do a naked night, but, as interest in the fetish scene
started dwindling, he felt he had little choice but to give it a try.
Originally just on a Sunday afternoon, SBN (Stark Bollock Naked) became so
popular that he now also holds the event in the larger of his two arches on a
Saturday night, traditionally his busiest night, and since he made the switch
from leather to naked, the club has been packed again. I asked Guy why he thinks
naked is now so popular, and he cites numerous reasons, amongst which is the
fact that the scene is less underground than it once was. Gay men are less
ashamed of who they are, and consequently less ashamed of the sex they have. That
they are having anonymous sex in public places, albeit licenced ones, may have
much to do with issues of self-esteem on the gay scene, but I’m not sure it has
a bearing on why people would choose to do it naked rather than wearing
leather, uniform or rubber. Naked certainly makes economic sense too. Investment in
leather and rubber is pretty expensive and out of the pockets of many younger
guys, particularly those who are still students. No clothes at all certainly
takes the worry out of what to wear on a night out. Now even the last bastion
of fetishwear clubs, The Backstreet, which once had a very strict dress code,
has bowed to pressure and holds three naked events a week.<o:p></o:p></div>
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These clubs, along with Stripped at the Vault and Butt Naked
at Central Station are primarily sex clubs, whereas Nudity, which is held once
a month at Union in Vauxhall is slightly different. David Jaxx, who runs
Nudity, first went into the naked club scene when he co-promoted Starkers, a
mixed naked party night, which originally opened in the East End. I remember
going myself back in 2004, when it took place in a pub near Columbia Road. Though
the club stated it was a club for adults of all genders and sexual persuasions,
there was no doubt the majority of the clientele were men, and the majority of
them gay or bisexual. Evidently, men enjoy stripping off more than women do.
There was a certain amount of sex at the club, though Starkers marketed itself
primarily as a social event and not a sex club, and indeed, compared to what
you see at most of the other clubs mentioned above, what did go on was mostly
just a bit of mild flirting. David’s co-promoter, Jamie, was intent on
promoting the club to a straight audience, but with straight attendance falling
off, and rarely any women there, David decided to part company with Jamie and
start up his own club for men only, and that club became Nudity. Where Starkers
eventually fizzled out, Nudity is still going strong, regularly attracting
200-350 naked party goers each month. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEVLBRTZDcscmGfmcymDz9yyL-wQ4tc5TsuphlmyNRMCW9996H0pzHq-0QYdMfeCYfuN-KkSzvnZ5ixLTCgn7LPkLNmmBCs69hGJAzblyVUpRvKGEM0fJ0DMzIiMfzboKDUoRKDIYUMbp/s1600/download+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEVLBRTZDcscmGfmcymDz9yyL-wQ4tc5TsuphlmyNRMCW9996H0pzHq-0QYdMfeCYfuN-KkSzvnZ5ixLTCgn7LPkLNmmBCs69hGJAzblyVUpRvKGEM0fJ0DMzIiMfzboKDUoRKDIYUMbp/s320/download+(1).jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Nudity markets itself primarily as a naked dance and social
event, where you can have sex if you want, not primarily a sex club. Though
there is a lot of sex going on, you’d be surprised to find how many people
enjoy dancing and socialising naked too. It’s a really fun night and seems to
be becoming more and more popular, attracting a wide range of attitude free
guys of all ages and body types. Nudity also holds occasional theme nights,
such as naked oil wrestling and naked beach parties, and the foam parties, held
just four times a year, are hugely popular, attracting the biggest crowd of
all. The last one was on the afternoon of August Bank Holiday Monday. Try it.
It’s a lot of fun. Just don’t wear your best trainers on foam party nights.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But what does all this mean for the fetish scene in general?
Hard On, which always had a very strict dress code has now opened that up to
include sports gear, though the rules here are still fairly strict and are
limited to footie gear, baseball,
wrestling outfits, jockstraps, rugby or any full sports outfit, trainers only
being allowed with the appropriate sports kit. Naked is also allowed, as long
as you are wearing boots, and I’ve noticed over the years how many more people
are now choosing to go naked at Hard On. Oddly, or maybe not, there are a lot
more naked party goers towards the end of the evening than there are at the
beginning. Perhaps seeing a few people already naked encourages others to do the same. Full fetish wear now seems to be reserved for occasional events like
the once yearly Hotwired, co-promoted by Hard On and Rut, and for special
events like London Fetish Week and Folsom Europe in Berlin.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Privately too more
and more guys are enjoying partying naked, which is the raison d’etre behind
the fairly new site <a href="http://www.nakedmates.co.uk/">http://www.nakedmates.co.uk</a>. The owner of the site, Mark Routledge,
having built up a circle of gaydar mates, who also enjoyed the naked lifestyle,
had at one time organised naked parties and night walks via gaydar, but found
the site wasn’t really geared up for multiple mail outs or any kind of social
networking. Originally he started Nakedmates just as a way of keeping in touch
with the contacts he’d made through gaydar, but word got round via social media
sites like facebook, and it has evolved from a site of 150-200 members to its
current 4000 members, even though the site has never been promoted in the gay
press or elsewhere. The site is definitely community based and gives guys who
enjoy being naked a platform to arrange naked meet ups, parties and events.
Some of these are social, some sexual, some both, but all are very clear about
what is on offer. Gay men often feel sidelined on other nudist sites like the
now defunct Hangoutnude or truenudists, sites that try to maintain a strictly
no sex attitude to social nudity. Nakedmates is more pragmatic, and takes into
account that if you fill a room with naked gay and bisexual men, sex is bound
to happen at some point, though often party hosts lay down rules which sets one
room aside for sex, leaving others free for guests to mingle and socialise,
just as at any clothed event.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfoGG-yowIFrKTBX8L8OI9IKBWtRgtUNl11-4McV5oj1-stfLGmtALT3XSNWJoFOv1cR5bpZSgXZ-JJqKSVTYxdkFCan7Ukqjniprcx1qj4kU_ndP6-VVQO9oDhMMZha7kMM98lppR7Vc/s1600/Main-Banner-Black-Square.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfoGG-yowIFrKTBX8L8OI9IKBWtRgtUNl11-4McV5oj1-stfLGmtALT3XSNWJoFOv1cR5bpZSgXZ-JJqKSVTYxdkFCan7Ukqjniprcx1qj4kU_ndP6-VVQO9oDhMMZha7kMM98lppR7Vc/s400/Main-Banner-Black-Square.gif" height="332" width="400" /></a></div>
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Personally, I love
this new found freedom. I love being naked. I love being naked on the beach, at
home and anywhere else it’s acceptable. The more places that open their doors
to nudity, the better as far as I’m concerned, and it certainly saves me a
fortune in leather. It seems naked really is the new black.<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-28927320150558212522013-07-18T06:50:00.000-07:002013-07-18T06:50:03.158-07:00I'm Getting Naked (again), Folks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nM40j5ktQqQ/UefyKbylQ4I/AAAAAAAADH8/X2lLj_Kf2xg/s1600/Y1cCMbt2IZlMlQSziQcko4QE4DnCzCOmiLJn_QVy7HU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nM40j5ktQqQ/UefyKbylQ4I/AAAAAAAADH8/X2lLj_Kf2xg/s320/Y1cCMbt2IZlMlQSziQcko4QE4DnCzCOmiLJn_QVy7HU.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In May this year I did something I’d never done before. (Yes
I know you must all be thinking there can’t be much left.) I read from my own
work at Paul Burston’s Polari, a hugely popular, and wonderfully elegant gay
and lesbian literary salon, which takes place at the Royal Festival Hall
Conference rooms. Once a month Paul gathers together an array of literary
talent, most of them published writers, many of them (like me) not, and gives
them a platform for their work. It was a very exciting moment for me and my
offering went down extremely well, so next week I’m doing it all again, only
this time I’ll be naked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For those of you who haven’t heard of it yet, Naked Boys
Reading is a monthly event at Dalston’s trendy Vogue Fabrics, which does
exactly what it says on the tin. Every month, an array of different types, beefcakes,
bears, twinks, otters, butch femmes, sissy sluts, boys next door with an
exhibitionist streak and lovers of naturism with a well-endowed library, will
give in-the-buff readings to an audience of people into books and bodies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E5_K00xWb9U/UefyQN_AnII/AAAAAAAADIE/yt75_zJMXFk/s1600/Diwg-pJ8CiDJpTnDSUQP93lx1xm-UZ8ZI1_r60bRlD8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E5_K00xWb9U/UefyQN_AnII/AAAAAAAADIE/yt75_zJMXFk/s320/Diwg-pJ8CiDJpTnDSUQP93lx1xm-UZ8ZI1_r60bRlD8.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Naked Boys Reading began when producers Alex and Justin
wanted a new performance based event at Vogue Fabrics in Dalston. Justin
suggested Naked Boys Reading, as a brother to the wildly popular Naked Girls
Reading event in NYC (produced by friends of Justin). The event began last
September and will be a year old this year!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The idea was to create a queer space where the arts and the
erotic mingle - attending to each other in equal measure. The boys are literary
buffs, naturists and performers, and they alternate between curated events
(upcoming in November is a special curated event by Little Joe Magazine - <a href="http://www.littlejoemagazine.com/">http://www.littlejoemagazine.com/</a>)
and performer-chosen themed evenings. Each event covers a broad spectrum of
body types and literature - otters, bears, twinks, queers, gender-fuckers,
older, younger (18+ obviously!); children's literature, erotica, poetry, spoken
word, biography and even a rather hilarious recipe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This month’s theme is Leather, though there is no injunction
to read anything that is specifically concerned with leather, as long as there
is somewhere about one’s person or chosen piece a nod in its direction.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, if you’d like the chance to come and see me naked and in
the flesh, come down to Vogue Fabrics in Dalston on Thursday 25 July. It
promises to be a fun filled night.<o:p></o:p></div>
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NAKED BOYS READING: LEATHER<br />
“If love isn’t forever, and it’s not the weather; hand me my leather.” - Tori
Amos (1992)<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
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The boys:<br />
Denis Balent<br />
Martin Lisle<br />
Greg Mitchell<br />
Brian Mullin<br />
TBA<br />
<br />
Featuring:<br />
A LEATHER CONFESSIONAL PHOTO-BOOTH by Holly Revel<br />
<br />
With:<br />
Sharon Husbands, host-ess<br />
Duchess of Pork, Disc Jock-ess<br />
<br />
Thursday 25, July, 2013<br />
8pm (door opens 7:30)<br />
£5 in advance (via <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fnbr6.eventbrite.com%2F&h=6AQFHZWGU&s=1" target="_blank">http://nbr6.eventbrite.com/</a>)<br />
£7 8pm-11pm (night of performance)<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/581441341914189/">https://www.facebook.com/events/581441341914189/</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5iTAyscL47Gkc7cnp_l32jjuTk3wpfU7XKlj0nyxvqsRqbgm2st9_9C4E-BAKkP4BZBI0kFCVbh6fxDSh1GSoZ5DhEVNR_n1Y5WEOBoow8EPlGiO_c-rEXklP6ozTPxM7g4vfsOdTVwf/s1600/q59I8YjkQnVP_pd9LLbfz6zdV9bradtmWa3Gxf7hTzs,pubFhBVX_FaV44y-lvbqlIhQSHnunVN6Z5nfoHwybkw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5iTAyscL47Gkc7cnp_l32jjuTk3wpfU7XKlj0nyxvqsRqbgm2st9_9C4E-BAKkP4BZBI0kFCVbh6fxDSh1GSoZ5DhEVNR_n1Y5WEOBoow8EPlGiO_c-rEXklP6ozTPxM7g4vfsOdTVwf/s320/q59I8YjkQnVP_pd9LLbfz6zdV9bradtmWa3Gxf7hTzs,pubFhBVX_FaV44y-lvbqlIhQSHnunVN6Z5nfoHwybkw.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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#nbrldn <o:p></o:p></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-34997019964688156972013-07-14T00:48:00.000-07:002013-07-14T00:48:04.280-07:00Doing porn - does it eventually bite you in the bum?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuJ1txxcvqz5Nlh9XjcDG3LhmSzI87Rcc9HQhxfiZ3aUtmfsH8f9paeM90mvczgr9ABBnjWFEdlJv5fFqmqc8OKchyphenhyphenC-ERTdFPSOol0tzBOwmK9IiYpa86UhibRwOSCaJ2e_Dc1De5UoK/s1600/BEsvc6mCcAAoOIJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuJ1txxcvqz5Nlh9XjcDG3LhmSzI87Rcc9HQhxfiZ3aUtmfsH8f9paeM90mvczgr9ABBnjWFEdlJv5fFqmqc8OKchyphenhyphenC-ERTdFPSOol0tzBOwmK9IiYpa86UhibRwOSCaJ2e_Dc1De5UoK/s320/BEsvc6mCcAAoOIJ.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In the news this week is the story of young ballet dancer,
Jeppe Hansen. Hansen was on a scholarship with the Royal Winnipeg Ballet
School, when he was told there was no longer a place for him, it having been
discovered that he had appeared in gay porn movies, under the name Jett Black. Quite
how the Royal Winnipeg Ballet officials discovered this has not been revealed,
but the company has stated it has policies and procedures in place, that state
that any dancer who wishes to partake in ‘side projects’ must gain approval
from the school director. I do wonder, though, if the school would have been
quite so intransigent if it had been discovered that Hansen was working as a
waiter or even dancing in a fringe production of a musical somewhere, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyfZm3QrLsWzgJjbAgSGKR0cmIU1vks0hCMpsGwYKUZkOKXMRxWBQ6EzwN9QYq7ykE2NdP1pOqfgHMuqKIcNJPTukCRkBUPi6XE5oMY3yP4WhowyuRxHC0yxNoLkp3dgAtm98hNg0HZfH/s1600/hi-jeppe-hansen-dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyfZm3QrLsWzgJjbAgSGKR0cmIU1vks0hCMpsGwYKUZkOKXMRxWBQ6EzwN9QYq7ykE2NdP1pOqfgHMuqKIcNJPTukCRkBUPi6XE5oMY3yP4WhowyuRxHC0yxNoLkp3dgAtm98hNg0HZfH/s320/hi-jeppe-hansen-dance.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There can be little doubt that it is the nature of Hansen’s
‘side project’ itself that is the problem, not the fact that Hansen, like many
students, was doing something extra-curricular to fund his education. The
problem appears to be sex, not only sex, but public sex, though we should
remember that Hansen was doing nothing illegal. He was just appearing in a
movie and getting paid for it. One has to ask if they would have had the same
problem, if he’d got a role in a war movie which required him to kill and maim
people. No doubt he’d have been given a warning and allowed to continue his
studies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On the other hand it is a little disingenuous of Hansen to refer
to the porn he did as art, a statement that only serves to cloud the issue. Though
he may have a point, I’d hardly call any of the porn I did art, and, anyway, the
whole question of what constitutes pornography, and what erotic art, is
probably food for a whole other article. Hansen banging on about his artistic
freedom being breached hardly helps, I feel. The issue seems to me much
simpler. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I certainly doubt the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School’s
officials wrestled for one moment with definitions of art and pornography. They
were just “shocked” and “appalled” that one of their students was having sex on
film. But this is where I have a problem with the officials. My reaction to the
news was, predictably no doubt, so fucking what? I would imagine he made a lot
more money for a few hours’ being filmed having sex than he would have done
working as a waiter, and probably had a lot more fun doing it too. Seems to me
he was just being inventive. He was given an opportunity and took it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Am I so completely out of touch with how normal people would
react? Not as much as you might think, judging from most of the comments left
by readers of the news article in <a href="http://www.gaystarnews.com/article/aspiring-ballet-star-kicked-out-school-doing-gay-porn090713">gaystarnews</a>,
who all seemed to think the Ballet School over reacted. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As far as I can see, the problems society, and the
mainstream media, have with porn are the same ones they have with sex; problems
derived from outmoded religious views and the deep seated shame those views
create. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Some of you may remember that, a few years ago, The News of
the World revealed that Max Mosley enjoyed indulging in a bit of SM sex. Mosley,
quite properly considering that what he got up to in his private life was
nobody’s business but his own took out a privacy case against the News of the
World, which he won, though, by this time, his reputation was in tatters
anyway. The law agreed that The News of the World had breached his privacy by
revealing his sexual peccadilloes, but it hardly changed people’s attitudes to
what he was getting up to. Again, when the story first broke, my attitude was,
so what? Why is this even a news story? Is it just that most people’s sex lives
are so boring, they can only get vicarious pleasure out of reading about other
people’s, and then, of course, condemning them?<o:p></o:p></div>
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On the subject of porn, internet figures suggest that most
of us are looking at it, but very few would admit to it. We know that most of the
people who have at some time looked at internet porn are men, (8 out of 10,
compared to only a third of women), but it’s fair to assume that most of them
don’t tell their wives or girlfriends. So, although watching porn is common,
it’s still not considered acceptable behaviour, whereas watching movies in
which people get blown to bits is. Taking the above figure as the norm, that
would suggest that, out of the current 503 male MPs in the House of Commons, we
can assume that at least 400 of them have, at one time or another, watched
internet porn. These same MPs will publicly voice their concerns about the easy
availability of internet porn and talk about ways of stopping it. Ah, how we
love dual standards.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Returning to the original question as to whether doing porn
can come back and bite you in the bum, then, I am sad to say, that in our
present society, the answer is probably yes. In our gay world, doing porn might
be becoming more and more acceptable, and indeed more and more gay men are
enjoying sex on camera, many being happy to do it just for the thrill, rather
than the money, but they really should be careful about who gets to watch it. I
suspect many of them would lose their day jobs if their bosses ever found
out. Yes it seems totally wrong to me
and I can’t help asking why doing porn can possibly be seen to be a problem for
a budding ballet dancer. Are people really not going to go and watch him dance
if they know he’s had sex on camera? I suspect the reverse would be true. Oh
well, clearly society hasn’t caught up with me yet. So a bit of advice. Unless,
like me, you can largely opt out of society, admit to all you have done and
refuse to be ashamed, it’s probably best that, for now, you give up the idea of
doing that porn movie. Either that or wear a mask.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6fJNxkAh6B6MiLhx8IbQZH7JdVhI5jgRfH5LCk_6_a2cGn3SFvc8qD7Cb3GTseHMUYpD3Hyc7j9Z5kMli4bwIo_HZ9NuR_hLvh9hTtodT4qLIxEn7PT3S4dVc-tEuOXgUsPyl_g0d61J/s1600/Jeppe_Hansen_Jett_Black_Ballet_Star_Gay_Porn_Star.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6fJNxkAh6B6MiLhx8IbQZH7JdVhI5jgRfH5LCk_6_a2cGn3SFvc8qD7Cb3GTseHMUYpD3Hyc7j9Z5kMli4bwIo_HZ9NuR_hLvh9hTtodT4qLIxEn7PT3S4dVc-tEuOXgUsPyl_g0d61J/s320/Jeppe_Hansen_Jett_Black_Ballet_Star_Gay_Porn_Star.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span>GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-80713058431261012582013-07-07T11:24:00.001-07:002014-06-26T04:33:14.760-07:00Why We Should Always Stay Proud<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkDBNJkmmfqPXH5LBDpLdI1Gir9ZhnFSWFO_C9z7D10oqp2Sn9xnSr3-U1BYjyK9PleB69VBXVzdWuD9fZg-f3HVNjZnvctYRj9iLlZc-Z8n655mAyPjdB1OtKC7M2i9TlLvFnNxkVkwk/s1600/Pride+parade+2005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkDBNJkmmfqPXH5LBDpLdI1Gir9ZhnFSWFO_C9z7D10oqp2Sn9xnSr3-U1BYjyK9PleB69VBXVzdWuD9fZg-f3HVNjZnvctYRj9iLlZc-Z8n655mAyPjdB1OtKC7M2i9TlLvFnNxkVkwk/s1600/Pride+parade+2005.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the XXL Float Pride 2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<i>This is an article that was published by <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a> just before this year's London Pride. Pride is very important to me, and so I am republishing it here.</i></div>
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The year was 1993. I remember it because it was the year the
Gay Slayer, Colin Ireland was embarked on his killing spree, and there had been
many warnings for us to take special care while he was still at large. Even so,
it had been a perfect day, and as the sun started to set on Brockwell Park with
Jimmy Somerville singing the words, “As I watch the sun go down, watching the
world fade away”, I had never felt so content, never felt so much that at last,
I belonged. This was my first ever Pride and, unbelievably, I was 41.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not that I had been closeted till then. Far from it, but I
had never really fitted in with what I perceived to be gay life or <i>the scene.</i> I had come out as gay fairly
late I suppose, at about 27, and, having fallen madly in love with my first
boyfriend, whom I had met through work, went straight into a domestic, monogamous
relationship. We never went out on the scene and most of our friends were
straight. When that relationship finished, I went straight into another that
was much the same, and then when that finished, I hardly dare go anywhere at
all. AIDS was taking hold and sex became something to fear rather than enjoy.
The gay scene terrified me and so I took refuge amongst my straight friends. My
life became monastic and I practically gave up sex altogether. Looking back,
this could well be the reason I am still around today, but it’s certainly not a
time I’d like to live through again. In a way I was denying who I was, denying
myself the right to be happy, to be considered the equal of my straight peers;
and, actually, I was no better than the likes of David Starkey, who believes
the owners of a B&B should be able to deny a room to a gay couple, and
Andrew Pierce, who believes that we don’t need equal marriage. Urged on by my
ultra Conservative mother, I am ashamed to admit I joined with those who
condemned the opening of GLC’s London
Lesbian and Gay Centre, which opened in 1985, another waste of rate payers’
money by Red Ken. This was not my finest hour. I was no doubt suffering from
the kind of internalised homophobia I detailed in my article for TheGayUK earlier this year. You can reference it <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/#/magazine/4574334751/OPINION-GAY-HOMOPHOBIA/4812983" target="_blank">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You’d think that as I worked in an environment where it was
ok to be gay (the theatre), I’d have happily embraced my sexuality, and to an
extent I did, but I never felt I fitted in with the majority of gay guys in a
company, those ultra flamboyant, often screamingly queeny dancers, with their
hilariously witty, but often bitchy, repartee, and consequently I distanced
myself from them. To be honest, they scared the living daylights out of me, and
I tended to mix instead with the straight guys and girls in the company. It was
safer to stick with what I knew, even if it meant sometimes tacitly colluding
with the occasional unintentional homophobic remark. I wasn’t like other gays,
so that made it ok. But of course it didn’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not quite sure when all that changed, but, over time, I
realised that something was missing from my life. I didn’t truly fit in with
any of the people I mixed with. So it was that in 1993 I found myself marching
through the streets of London with thousands of other gay men and women, with
their families, and with their friends. I was surrounded by men and women from
all walks of life, from the flamboyant to the ordinary, from drag queens to
soldiers. I couldn’t believe the size of the crowd, and as I looked back down
Piccadilly from Hyde Park Corner, my heart swelled with a pride I’d never felt
before. I was not alone. At least for one day I could walk through the streets
without being afraid of who I was. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I think that was the turning point for me. From that day on
I became more involved in the scene and more fully embraced the gay community.
I think I’ve attended every London Pride since, and been to a few more around
the country. I’ve been involved in Pride in various ways too, from stewarding,
to dancing on a float in leather, to gogo dancing in a shop window in Soho and
then gogoing in the clubs afterwards. I’ve had a lot of fun, and of course
Pride should be fun, but it is also a lot more than that. It is a chance for us
to show the world that we are a diverse bunch of people, that we exist in all
corners of life. We might be drag queens and leather guys, disco bunnies and
dykes on bikes, muscle guys and formation dancers, but we are also policemen
and firemen, soldiers and office workers, doctors, politicians and nurses. It
is a chance for us to show the world that we are not going away.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As London is one of the busiest, most multi-cultural
cities in the world, it makes London Pride important on an international level,
so that those living in countries less tolerant than ours can see what can be
achieved. Urged on by anti-gay religious groups, gay rights are going backwards
in most countries in Africa and the middle East. Hardly a week goes by without
some new anti-gay law being passed or some new atrocity against the gay
community. Things are no better in many Eastern European countries. Russia has
just passed more anti-gay legislation, precipitating a wave of anti-gay
violence. Even in seemingly enlightened France, there has been an outbreak of
violence against gay people since the passing of the equal marriage act. The
Catholic Church’s roots obviously go down deeper there than most would have
imagined; and if the recent House of Commons and House of Lords debates on
equal marriage are anything to go by, there are still plenty of bigoted
homophobes in this country, who will go to extraordinary lengths to deny us our
basic human rights. There could not be a time when it is more important to stand
up and be proud of who we are.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve always believed that Pride should be both a celebration
and a political statement, and have never had any truck with those who say all
the excessive flamboyance at Pride makes them feel ashamed, the gay homophobes
who believe we should play down our differences, who believe that only by
attempting to blend in with the straight world will we get the rights we are
asking for. Well I don’t hold with that. We should not deny that a large part
of our community is made up of wonderfully flamboyant, inventive, artistic,
talented and sometimes wacky people. When better to show off our
fabulousness? When the gay community
stood up against police brutality at the Stonewall Bar back in 1969, were those
drag queens trying to blend in? No. They were demanding their rights as
individuals. So the media tends to concentrate on the drag queens and the
scantily clad muscle boys. So what? Being
different is not a reason for withholding human rights. <o:p></o:p></div>
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If, like me, you have been to so many Pride events now, that
they all start to blend into each other. If you are feeling jaded, or feel that
it has nothing to do with you anymore, perhaps you should remember the reasons
that Pride is still important, and that
each Pride will always be the first Pride for someone somewhere, that first
moment when that person, whatever their age, can feel that they can be who they
really are. Take part in the march, or just come down and watch, but, be part
of it and be Proud!<o:p></o:p></div>
GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-8351713453995132402013-07-07T11:13:00.001-07:002013-07-07T11:13:32.875-07:00Pride London 2013 Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpRP378FkeMLB0Ze-_zELp63Mmle5zE51CtpjRnBkzosUBXoXTCPD_2RwInLkJnhDFzC9g-6Vncr5DXc5gq5CG0HHa0VLjWLzy_-Gm6nEUxXdjTGB5Zkx59EREhNQ8iULdjoApYF4iemW/s1600/A-participant-waves-a-Uni-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpRP378FkeMLB0Ze-_zELp63Mmle5zE51CtpjRnBkzosUBXoXTCPD_2RwInLkJnhDFzC9g-6Vncr5DXc5gq5CG0HHa0VLjWLzy_-Gm6nEUxXdjTGB5Zkx59EREhNQ8iULdjoApYF4iemW/s320/A-participant-waves-a-Uni-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well, Pride in London finally arrived, and after last year’s
damp squib (World Pride, too, if you remember), it can only be accounted a huge
success for the new team in charge. The theme of the parade this year was,
rightly, love and marriage, for it won’t be long now before gay men and women
will be able to marry their partners, whatever delaying tactics our opponents
use. The tide is surely in our favour. <o:p></o:p></div>
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No doubt those opponents were praying for God’s vengeance on
us, for, if not fire and brimstone, at least torrential rain to spoil our day,
and, let’s face it, given the miserable June weather we had had so far, it
wouldn’t have been that surprising. In the event, it seemed God smiled on us.
London basked in the first true summer weather of the year. The sunshine
brought out the smiles and, with it, one of the biggest and happiest Prides in
recent memory. By report this was also the biggest and most heavily attended
Pride in 10 years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My friends and I were marching, leather clad, in the first
section of the parade, alongside members of MSC London and Bluff, London’s two
most prominent leather and fetish wear organisations. We were followed by the
most disarming group of LGBT Filipino dancers, whilst ahead of us were a group
of fetish dogs and felines, so there was definitely something for everyone. It
is absolutely a tremendous experience to march in the parade, but the only
problem is that by marching, you don’t get to see the range of people in the
parade, nor get a feeling of just how big it actually is. Years ago, I remember
we used to march down Piccadilly, and that was one of the few times you could
actually get an idea of the huge size of the event, a truly exhilarating
experience. However, there were plenty of photos around on facebook and the like,
and some on the net (a wonderful series in The Guardian), that give a great
impression of the sheer diversity of our community.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKM_yItTBuBuZt6DJQzEEZX6o3xa3ZAz0_DIOloT304mwp3l9D6V7L4a0929lIEHtq9YyM5Bm7vHUiOxS9yrogA2Zpi6cYILe3WwHB_hZWrvX8gd_qCfkaZd5XrOJHcgt5HiU2cY66t6C/s1600/1004027_10152004137728625_734183675_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKM_yItTBuBuZt6DJQzEEZX6o3xa3ZAz0_DIOloT304mwp3l9D6V7L4a0929lIEHtq9YyM5Bm7vHUiOxS9yrogA2Zpi6cYILe3WwHB_hZWrvX8gd_qCfkaZd5XrOJHcgt5HiU2cY66t6C/s320/1004027_10152004137728625_734183675_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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One of the most enjoyable parts of marching, though, is just
seeing the thousands of people, gay and straight, lining the parade route,
enjoying the spectacle; waves of positivity and love. People with their
families and friends, all there to cheer us on. For those who say that Pride is
redundant, that we no longer need it, this is their answer, and this is why we
need it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Before the parade started I was chatting to one of the guys
selling whistles and rainbow flags, an affable born and bred Londoner. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You won’t be needing one of these, mate, will ya? Won’t go
with your outfit,” he joked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hardly,” I replied. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He then went on chat to me about how important he thought
Pride was, telling me about his best friend, who had just come out. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I think it’s wonderful. He’s marching today for the first
time,” he said. “I can’t tell you how important this is for him. I love him,
you know. He’s my mate. Makes no difference to me who he fancies. I just hope
he can marry some bloke he falls for one day. Have a great day and wave to me
wife and kids if you see ‘em. Oh no, you won’t know’em will ya?” he laughed,
and went back out into the crowd as I moved off to join my buddies in leather.<o:p></o:p></div>
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No doubt it was unbearably hot for those in full Bluff
leather gear. I had shoehorned myself into my leather trousers, but had elected
for just a waistcoat and armbands on top. The sun certainly came as a bit of a
shock and I ended up with white rings round my arms where the armbands were and
white patches on my body where the waistcoat went. Ah well, one has to suffer
for one’s art.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmezsDEvKq9VEEC1Ll6leaTcv497pxk_sHrLTpOAf0nm_PrTq6kJ6FXqtjimOYew3RCp0ramd5_t5Ii6kvtL6_wDKPzzzHSz-qWOwC1vToxAbq6ohYtOf-AUV3y3uToTzqz_CPDeMskkKV/s1600/1044803_10200809257866293_785000579_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmezsDEvKq9VEEC1Ll6leaTcv497pxk_sHrLTpOAf0nm_PrTq6kJ6FXqtjimOYew3RCp0ramd5_t5Ii6kvtL6_wDKPzzzHSz-qWOwC1vToxAbq6ohYtOf-AUV3y3uToTzqz_CPDeMskkKV/s320/1044803_10200809257866293_785000579_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The only dissent I witnessed all day was a small bunch of
god botherers, waving anti-gay marriage placards. The police had kept them well
back and out of the way, and, to tell the truth, nobody, not the revellers, not
the marchers, not the spectators, was taking a blind bit of notice of them. You
have to wonder why they even bother.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Once the march broke up in Whitehall, we made our way into
Soho to see if we could bag a table outside our favourite haunt, Balans Cafe,
for some well needed lunch. The management and staff had all dressed up for the
occasion, and they all looked fabulous, particularly, Rohan, who has to be my
favourite waiter in all of London, looking hot as hell in a hard hat, plaid
shirt, denim shorts and boots. Sitting was not exactly easy in my ultra-tight
leather trousers, but we attracted a lot of attention in our leather gear, with
loads of young men wanting to have their photo taken sitting on my lap. I
wasn’t complaining.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As we already had tickets for Summer Rites Pride in the
Park, we missed the celebrations in Trafalgar Square, which were apparently
superb. I really must get down there next year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So, having got changed into rather more comfortable shorts
and trainers, we arrived at a busy Shoreditch Park at about 6pm for what was an
extremely well planned and organised event. Shoreditch Park is just about the
perfect size. Not too big and not too small, and, with an incredible selection
of no less than 7 Music Arenas, showcasing an array of London's finest DJs and
Performers, who were representing some of the cities hottest club brands, there
really was something for everyone! Aside from the Music Arenas there were also
5 licensed bars, a Fun Fair and a Community Market. Most importantly bar staff
and toilets were plentiful, so there was no real queuing. So often at these
events, one ends up spending hours in toilet queues or struggling to get a
drink at the bar.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We popped into most of the various tents to see what was
going on. They weren’t over busy to begin with. No doubt, it being such a
beautiful day, the majority preferred to be outside soaking up the sun, and
indeed that is where we found ourselves for the most part, catching up with
friends we hadn’t seen for ages. Later on, the dance tents began to get much
busier, as revellers soaked up the music, and danced the night away. I was also
impressed with how clean the park was. Either, they had an army of cleaners
running around, though I never saw any, or people were making sure they dropped
their plastic glasses and bottles in the plentiful bins that were provided. Either
way, it was refreshing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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By around 9pm, I had had enough. It had been a long day, my
legs and feet were killing me and I decided it was time to go home. I had
planned to go to the Hustlaball, but I was just too tired to manage it, and
ended up having an early night. I’m sure I missed a great night out, but it was
nice to wake up at a reasonable hour on Sunday and actually get to enjoy what
turned out to be the warmest day of the year so far.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Over the next couple of days I scanned the internet for news
of the event, but was rather saddened to see that the mainstream press had
largely ignored us. When, a couple of months back, a few crazy Frenchmen turned
up in Trafalgar Square to protest equal marriage, the press was full of it, but
thousands march through the streets, celebrating the diversity of our
community, approvingly egged on by thousands of spectators, both straight and
gay, and they completely ignore us. One does have to ask if there is some sort
of agenda going on here. As far as I could make out, only The Guardian on line
printed a series of photographs of the event. I was surprised to see nothing
from our usual ally, The Independent. It was also rather disappointing that the
Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, chose, yet again, not to attend. He pledges his
support for the LGBT community, but has, as far as I’m aware, only put in one,
rather uncomfortable, appearance. Time to get over it, Boris.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What was not dispiriting is that this year’s event has
risen, Phoenix-like, from the ashes of last year’s near fiasco, and has been an
incredible success. Roll on 2014.<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-2467136203477252842013-05-25T05:27:00.001-07:002013-05-25T05:27:41.988-07:00Streisand - Superstar and Gay Icon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Another in the series of gay icons articles for <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a></i></div>
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If a tragically short life is one of the
qualifications needed to become a gay icon, then Barbra Streisand fails miserably. 71 this year
she has lived, and is still living a richly fulfilling life, both privately and
professionally. Only last year her latest movie, The Guilt Trip, was released
and she is about to embark on another world tour, <i>and</i> she is still happily married to her husband of 15 years, James
Brolin. Many icons (Judy Garland, Maria Callas, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean) tragically
die young. Others (Elizabeth Taylor, Liza Minnelli) survive into old age,
despite having disastrous private lives, but there are others (Cher and Madonna
would be other examples) who somehow manage to take, and retain, control of
their own lives. Maybe that is what makes them such icons.</div>
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Born in 1942, Streisand’s rise to fame was positively
meteoric. Still only 18, she started out singing at various nightclubs in
Greenwich Village, and by the time of her final engagements at the Bon Soir in
1962, she already had amassed an enormous (mostly gay) following. Never one to
stick to the rules, her set would be a mix of eclectic songs, ranging from
Arlen’s “A Sleepin’ Bee” (often her unconventional opener) to her crazy version
of “Who’s Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf”. She always considered herself an actress
who sings, rather than the other way round, and in 1962 she made her Broadway
debut in the musical “I Can Get It For You Wholesale” playing the minor role of
Miss Marmelstein. Though the show flopped, she garnered great reviews, and
around this time she was also signed to Columbia records, with whom she has
remained ever since. Even back then Streisand, convinced she would be a star,
was only going to be a star on her terms. Her recording contract, unbelievably
for a newcomer, gave her complete artistic control over the material she recorded.
Her first album gave her the first of her 15 Grammy awards!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Never conventionally pretty, most would have thought her
destined for a career in character roles, but she knew that she was leading
lady material. Though she was advised to fix her nose, to change her name, she
never did, and the only concession she made was dropping the second ‘a’ from
her name. Barbara became Barbra. She had a reputation for being difficult even
back then, but, it is no doubt her uncompromising belief in herself, that
propelled her to stardom. She knew she
was different and she was determined to stay different. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In 1964 she appeared on Broadway as Fanny Brice in the
musical “Funny Girl”, and the rest, as they say, is history. When the show
became a movie, it was a foregone conclusion that Streisand would be its star,
not often the case when a Broadway show becomes a movie. In between Broadway
and Hollywood she had played Fanny Brice in the West End production of “Funny
Girl”, made three TV specials, the first of which, “My Name is Barbra”, won
five Emmy Awards, and even became a mother. (She had married her first husband,
Elliott Gould, her co-star in “Wholesale”, in 1963). Inevitably, in 1969 she
went on to win her first Oscar for “Funny Girl”. There was no stopping her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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According to the Record Industry Association of America,
Streisand holds the record for the most top-ten albums of any female recording
artist – a total of 32 since 1963. Streisand has the widest span (48
years) between first and latest top-ten albums of any female recording artist.
With her 2009 album, “Love Is The
Answer”, she became one of the rare artists to achieve number-one albums
in five consecutive decades. According to the RIAA, she has released 51
Gold albums, 30 Platinum albums, and 13 Multi-Platinum albums in the United
States.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the height of her fame, Streisand was the highest
grossing female star in Hollywood and the only woman in the top ten box office
attractions. Her co-stars have included some of the biggest heart throbs in
Hollywood, amongst them Robert Redford, Omar Sharif, Ryan O’Neal and James
Caan. She was also the first woman ever to produce, direct, script and star in
her own movie. Never one to suffer fools
gladly, she acquired a reputation for being difficult, a bitch and a ball
breaker, though she would always aver that, if she were a man, she would simply
have been called tough. A perfectionist, she would go over a scene a hundred
times if she thought it wasn’t right, and this no doubt contributed to that
reputation, though many of her leading men found her a joy to work with. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She and Elliott Gould split in 1971, and post her marriage,
she was romantically linked with many high profile figures including the
Canadian Prime Minister, Pierre Trudeau, Don Jonson and Andre Agassi, before
finally settling down with James Brolin, to whom she has been married for the
past 15 years. Her unconventional looks never seemed a barrier to her
attracting some very attractive men. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Stridently political, she is an outspoken supporter of equal
civil rights, which include gay rights. In 2007 she helped raise funds in an
unsuccessful attempt to defeat Proposition 8 in California. She also has
publicly raised $25 million for various organisations, both political and
charitable, through her live performances. Her only son, Jason Gould, is gay
and she very publicly supported him when he came out. They evidently enjoy a
close relationship and, in her most recent tour, he appears on stage with her,
singing in duet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To understand what made so many gay men respond to Streisand
in her early years, you really have to listen to some of those early records. Her
recording career roughly breaks down into three different periods. In the early
stuff, up to around 1969, she sings mostly standard repertoire, songs you might
have heard sung by Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald or Julie London, but still puts her
own inimitable stamp on them. With the Richard Perry produced “Stoney End” in
1971, she started to sing more contemporary music (she was, after all, only
29), and this change of musical direction broadened her appeal even further. Her
most successful album, “Guilty” was a collaboration with Barry Gibb of The
BeeGees. In 1985, she returned to her Broadway roots with “The Broadway Album”,
which was another massive hit. That said, it marked another change in direction
and, in my opinion, none of her subsequent albums has had the impact of her
earlier work. They seem to have settled into a more comfortable, middle of the
road, easy listening bracket. Her early records may well have been usually
found in the “Easy Listening” section of a record store, but listening to
Streisand at that time wasn’t always that” easy”. She demands attention. The
bitterness with which she spits out the lyrics to such songs as “Free Again” or
“Cry Me A River”, the pain and heartache enshrined in her rendition of “My
Man”, at the end of the movie of “Funny Girl”, the vocal sparring with Donna
Summer in the disco hit “No More Tears (Enough Is Enough”), the way she belts
out the Laura Nyro classic “Stoney End”; if you only know Streisand from the
stuff she has recorded from the 1990s onwards, then you really need to listen
to these classics.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You also need to see the film that made her a superstar,
“Funny Girl”. Not far into the film, Streisand sings “I’m The Greatest star”,
falteringly at first, then growing in confidence. Believe me, by the time she
has finished singing you will have no doubts. Streisand was, still is, and no
doubt will be long after she has left us, the greatest star.<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060178670318297620.post-54104080021279556142013-05-22T03:05:00.000-07:002013-05-22T03:05:05.856-07:00Maria Callas; A gay icon who defines the word diva<i>This month it is vintage month at <a href="http://www.thegayuk.com/" target="_blank">TheGayUK</a> and this is the first of a series of articles I wrote on gay icons.</i><br />
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There may have been divas before Maria Callas, but there is
no doubt that the modern idea of what is a diva owes a great deal to the
legendary opera singer, who, without ever singing a note of popular music, was
as famous during her lifetime as a movie star. Even today, 46 years after her
death and almost 50 years after she last appeared on stage, her records outsell
those of any other female opera singer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Callas was born in 1923 in a New York hospital to Greek
immigrant parents. Her mother, bitterly disappointed not to have had a son,
wouldn’t even look at Maria for the first few days after she was born. Maria
was an awkward, bespectacled, dumpy child with, in her mother’s eyes, one
redeeming feature. She could sing. And, from an early age, Evangelia, Maria’s
mother, decided Maria would become a star. No doubt here began the seeds of
Callas’s burning desire to succeed, and also, what her record producer Walter
Legge called, her superhuman inferiority complex. It was only by singing that
she could get approval from her mother. It was a tempestuous relationship, and
later they had a very public quarrel, leaving them estranged for the rest of
Maria’s life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Callas started out as everyone’s idea of the fat lady who
sings, but shed 80lbs to become the svelte, elegant, iconic figure we know
today, modelling her look on that of Audrey Hepburn. Some say this weight loss
was also the reason for her relatively early vocal decline. Paradoxically, the
more famous she became, the more her voice let her down, and her brilliance was
relatively short, its peak lasting barely ten years, though as American opera
star Beverly Sills once said, “Better 10 years like Callas, than twenty like
anybody else.” She created a revolution in the staging of opera too, for Callas
didn’t just sing, she could act, and it was her burning desire to fulfil all
the dramatic demands of her roles, which was behind her decision to lose weight.
To her way of thinking, it was crazy to have a fat, healthy looking soprano
supposedly dying of consumption.<o:p></o:p></div>
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From the very beginning she caused controversy. Her voice
was not conventionally beautiful, but it was better than that. It was a voice
like no other, instantly recognisable with an extraordinarily wide expressive
range, which she exploited to searingly dramatic ends. It was a large, dramatic
voice too, and yet she had the technique to sing roles usually associated with
much lighter voices. Those who just wanted to close their eyes and listen to
beautiful sounds were jolted out of their complacency, and they didn’t like it.
In her early days she enjoyed showing of her versatility, and within a week she
alternated one of the heaviest roles in the repertory (Brunnhilde in Wagner’s
“Die Walkure”) with one of the lightest (Elvira in Bellini’s “I Puritani”). It
was a feat unheard of at that time, and she began to be known as the soprano
who could sing anything. The traditionalists didn’t like it and battle lines
were drawn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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From 1951 until 1958 she was the reigning queen of La Scala,
Milan and Luchino Visconti, lured into opera by the prospect of working with
her, here mounted some of the greatest opera productions ever in operatic
history. It was also at La Scala that she worked with Franco Zeffirelli for the
first time, and with conductors such as Victor De Sabata, Carlo Maria Giulini,
Herbert von Karajan and Leonard Bernstein. It was a period of amazing artistic
achievement, and tenor Jon Vickers, often referred to Callas as one of the
people most responsible for the revolution that occurred in opera after the second
world war, rescuing it from the fustian stand and deliver concert in costume it
had become, and creating living, breathing theatre. The La Scala audience was
never an easy one, and she often had to deal with hostility from them, but,
such was her genius, she could usually win a hostile audience over by the end
of the evening. She was definitely a fighter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Callas myth is very much one made by the media. Her
musical genius is often lost amongst the details of her private life and the
scandals attached to it. The media concentrates on the occasional
cancellations, the rows with opera managements, and often forgets the genius
which made her a star. They build a
picture of the capricious, temperamental, demanding opera singer, which, though
partially true, tends to ignore the fact that she was intensely professional,
dedicated and respected by most of the musicians she worked with. Her outbursts
were usually brought about by what she saw as unprofessionalism. Unlike many
divas who flounce in, do their bit and flounce out, Callas was often the first
to arrive at rehearsal and the last to leave. She lived for her art. That is,
until Aristotle Onassis arrived on the scene. Callas stupidly, blindly, fell in
love and from that moment the media hardly ever left her alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When she met Onassis, she was still married (to a much older
man, Gian Baptista Meneghini). Onassis, still married himself, was as taken by
her fame as by her beauty and determined to make her his own. Callas, the ugly
duckling who became a swan, was flattered by his attention, and became his
mistress. She practically gave up her career for him, believing that one day
they would marry, until, devastatingly, he married Jackie Kennedy instead.
After the affair, Callas did try to pick up the threads of her career, but,
along with the growing problems she was having with her voice, much of the fire
had gone. In 1965 she made her final appearance in opera in Zeffirelli’s famed
production of “Tosca” at Covent Garden. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After that she lived as a recluse in Paris, occasionally
attempting to revive her career. She made a non-operatic version of “Medea” for
Pasolini, which was not a commercial success, though she received enormous
praise for her contribution, gave a
series of master classes at the Juilliard in New York (the basis of Terrence
McNally’s play “Masterclass”), and had an unsuccessful attempt at directing,
with tenor Giuseppe di Stefano, at the Turin Opera. She was, by this time,
having an affair with Di Stefano, and, probably unwisely, agreed to embark on a
world concert tour with him, at which they would sing duets and arias,
accompanied by piano only. She had only just turned 50, but her voice was a
pale shadow of itself. She was only too aware of her shortcomings, and wryly
noted how the critics were being much kinder to her, than they were years ago
when she was singing brilliantly. Audiences, though, went mad, screaming for
more, besieging the stage with floral tributes, as if finally acknowledging
now, in her ruin, the great star that she was. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When the tour came to an end, she holed herself up in her
Paris apartment. She never stopped loving Onassis, for all that he treated her
so badly, and even secretly visited him on his death bed. After he died, it was
as if all the fight was knocked out of her. Conductor Jeffrey Tate, who was
working with her at this time, (she never completely gave up the idea of a
comeback) felt that she simply gave up living.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She died in 1977 at the age of 53 in circumstance that are
still unexplained. Officially she died of a heart attack, but she was on so
many uppers and downers by then, that some think it may have been an accidental
overdose. Whatever it was, dying young certainly contributed to her legendary
status. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Nowadays she continues to enthral and inspire, and her
influence goes far beyond the opera house. Aside from the aforementioned
“Masterclass”, Terrence McNally also wrote a play “The Lisbon Traviata” (taking
its title from an at that time unavailable live recording of Callas singing “La
Traviata” in Lisbon), which focuses on two of McNally’s pet subjects; gay
relationships and the gay man’s love of opera. During her lifetime she was
something of a fashion icon, having fabulous gowns designed for her by Milanese
designer Biki, by Pucci, Fendi and Yves St Laurent. Not so very long ago Dolce
and Gabbana produced t-shirts with her image on them for their 2009 collection,
and only last year American designer Zac Posen based an entire collection on
costumes Callas wore in Argentina in her early years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In the world of film her records are frequently used on film
soundtracks. Most recently it is the voice of Callas we hear singing “Casta
Diva” in “The Iron Lady”, and Gus van Sant used her recording of “Tosca” as a
backdrop for much of his brilliant “Milk.” And who could possibly forget that
scene in “Philadelphia”, in which Andrew Beckett (played by Tom Hanks) attempts
to explain to his lawyer, Joe Miller (Denzel Washington), what opera means to
him? As Maria Callas's recording of "La mamma morta" from Giordano's
"Andrea Chenier" begins softly in the background and then swells to
fill the theatre, Andrew translates the words and conveys the passions and
emotional meanings behind this operatic excerpt. “I am divine, I am oblivion, I
am love.” No wonder the Italians called her La Divina. After her death,
baritone and colleague Tito Gobbi, said “I always thought she was immortal, and
she is.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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GregMitchellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16959025091779087366noreply@blogger.com0