Gary Barlow is not Beyonce

As political/musical alliances go, David Cameron and Gary Barlow is hardly Obama and Beyonce. I’ve just had the dubious pleasure of viewing a Conservative campaign event on the television, filmed at a school in Nantwich, wherever that might be (somewhere between west London and Manchester, I suspect). fortunately, I missed the overture, but from what I could glean, Gary did a number, accompanied by the school orchestra, before talking almost unintelligibly about the importance of musical youth… blah blah blah… as usual he seemed stoned, although I’m convinced he’s not that interesting. Then Cameron came on and excruciatingly namechecked Florence and the Machine and I-macs, and revealed that he was into 80s bands like, erm, Oasis and Radiohead. Then Gary wibbled on about being inspired by his music teacher to get into Javanese music (which is obviously more than evident in Take That’s oeuvre) and make instruments out of old atlases that he found in the bin, or something. Meanwhile, in the background, the children of the Nantwich International Orchestra all began to look increasingly depressed and bored and started fiddling with their G strings. Anyway, no one looked like they particularly wanted to be there and… ooh, now BBC Parliament have cut to a clip of Nick Clegg. That’s more like it. He is cool. His wife is Spanish.

I also want to write about I Am Love, which is completely splendid. Apart from the obvious pull of Jil Sander costuming and the fact that it’s about the downfall of an haute bourgeois Milanese fashion dynasty, Michelin starred cuisine is used as a trope and the first love scene is between Tilda Swinton and a plated prawn starter.

Tilda for Prime Minister.

I am now of huge academic interest…

…and shall probably soon become the namesake of a Learning Resource Centre, or at the very least a nutritionally dubious canteen.

A lovely girl called Lydia, from York St. Johns University, has written an essay about liddle old me.

In deftly referencing Judith Butler I was reminded of this sentiment, talking of her book Gender Trouble in an interview with Radical Philosophy:

‘I don’t think that drag is a paradigm for the subversion of gender. I don’t think that if we were all more dragged our gender life would become more expansive and less restrictive. There are restrictions in drag. In fact, I argued toward the end of the book that drag has it own melancholia.’(butler:1997,235)

…couldn’t agree more, Judy.

I love this, below, partly because I have no idea what it says. I wonder if someone could Translate. Is it Danish?

My good friend Natalie told me this blog should be less self-aware. If you’re reading, hon, which you’re probably not, then please ignore the title of this post.

A love letter to Siouxsie…

I’ve written one. It’s quite self -referential. I wouldn’t have mentioned La Sioux at all but Ruth told me that wasn’t allowed (ha ha). Check it out on wonderful Dummy: http://www.dummymag.com/next/2010/04/09/a-love-letter-to-siouxsie-the-banshees/

Here's one of my favourite pictures of her baring her breasts

And here's me dressed up as her for a party a few years ago

In other news, I accompanied the glorious Anna G to Princess Julia’s birthday party at the George and the Dragon last night. Not only was the place filled to the rafters with club royalty but AG, true to form, revealed that she had been responsible for the vocal on S Express. What a gal. Though, for me, it still fails to top the story about her falling of a high stool in the video for Divine’s You Think You’re a Man. AG, I salute you.

The Big Gay Flashmob

Goddess bless David Cameron and his rather shabby attempts to court the queer vote. He no doubt thought it’d be a walk in the park… sorry, more likely one of those funny little private garden squares in Notting Hill) after he published his oh so honest list of conservative MPs (so some Tories are homosexual? How fabulous. Does it mean that they’re not actually self-serving traitors to their own community? Come now (actually, I’d rather you didn’t – my name aint Monica and you’re not welcome in this oval office)). The latest, as everyone knows, from the party (whatever) with the most appalling record of voting on gay rights issues, not to mention systematic homophobia of their own design during their reign, is that the shadow home secretary thinks that it’s OK to turn us away from guest houses whilst managing to keep a straight (you betta believe it) face and claim that he’s not homophobic.

Ho hum… not content with giving David Cameron’s portrait a dragover last weekend and deciding that he looks much more fierce when working a beaded lash and purple blusher, I’ve decided it might be fun to attend a fabulous street party outside their HQ on Sunday. The weather forecast is clement and if Zilla Killer is there we’ll join the kiss in.

Maybe Cameron will turn up and then we can all get a good look at his hair plugs.

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=110970195595502&ref=mf#!/event.php?eid=110970195595502&ref=mf

Why can’t I own a Canadian?

This is very amusing and so on the button. Ryan originally tweeted it the other day but I’m reposting for emphasis.

Read it and weep, Dr. Laura:

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It’s funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord – Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness – Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination – Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? – Lev.24:10-16. Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Jim

Original link: http://bit.ly/wrDdY

Drag Democracy # 6

I’ll be showing this on Sunday 16th May at The Place’s 40th birthday weekend, in the bar. Here’s what the beautiful Sally Marie wrote last time I was there and also a photo of me performing it at Scottee’s Eat Your Heart Out back in November.

Let’s begin with the riot of colour that completed Tuesday night’s Touch Wood. A song list, pink satin, gold lamé, yellow wigs, black net, sequined belts, bubble wrap, green silk ribbon, organza, oranges and lemons printed on fabric, tangerine polyester, taffeta and Thom Shaw. This was Drag Democracy, an interactive performance and response to the night’s work, which translated as various audience members collecting garments from the rails and making some frankly fabulous outfits on Thom. Long and languorous in the vertical, there was just enough of the lightly ironic in his body to carry off various outfits. A special mention goes to Martin Hargreaves, who styled something that looked like Lacroix couture! I loved it and those Comme des Garçons (?) socks. It reminded me of a New York Christmas day in Keith Haring’s old apartment, fairy lights twinkling and queens parading up and down in glitter during an impromptu fashion show.

Photo: Eddie Thomas

I suppose I’ll yabber about my easter weekend, in the absence of anything more fascinating  (more fascinating than my weekend? non!!) and for the practice. Perfect balance of activity. After meeting and nattering to a fabulous old French woman on the train on Friday afternoon (she had a broken finger and wore mohair pop socks, if you please) who was complaining about the incessant announcements on TFL which, she explained, are a Pavlovian method of controlling citizens which should be constantly undermined and resisted, I had a lovely afternoon in Forest Hill with Cate before spying on Fi from behind a curtain in the BFI bar. She was on a date with a sweet looking boy who likes to wield axes. Saw Psycho. It gets much camper with age and I especially liked how quickly Mr/Mrs. Bates manages to assemble that bijou supper tray – hurry, Mary! Hurry!

To Duckie on Saturday night to catch Dominic Johnson perform. His amazing show, Transmission, gets camper, too. More glitter-fisting every time I see it. As usual, some of the Duckie regulars were ruffled by being sprayed with blood… maybe they shouldn’t have been standing so close to the stage trying to get a close look at Dominic’s dirty jockstrap (which he never washes).

Dominic. Photo: Marion Haenon

Sunday saw me hosting a double bill of films at the Roxy bar and Screen’s new Extraordinary Film Season (Wizard of Oz and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert). As well as introducing the films and encouraging punters to give dragovers to pictures of some of our political lightweights (paying special attention, of course, to Nick Griffin’s lazy eye and tying in neatly with today’s election date announcement… although personally I don’t think I can take another month of tedious pre-amble), I took on the genius of Eartha Kitt and her fluency in Turkish (“I like to feed my lover… bird’s milk!).

Then on to the Kimono Krush room at XXL where, apart from Lazy Susan, I was the only tranny in a room populated mostly by bears, the odd leather queen and Martin, who was up to his eyeballs in Valium (it’s his neck, you see) and having a whale of a time.

Well, I’m working this out one tentative step at a time. My friend Ruth has been on it me to join the bloggersphere so this it it. I know that no-one is reading this at the moment (and may never?) so I may as well just drag my elbows across the keys like this:xssssssssjksxoklmjxdklsxklllllllllllllllllllllllsdkljxc kkkkkkkkksd;sd;sd;sd;sd;sd;lk. More to follow, I expect.