Ah yes. Easter break. All is silent in the school for sinners. Leads me to think, as I no longer have to dole out detentions. And I've been thinking quite frequently over the last number of weeks, and in particular over the last weekend about my peers ideas of each other.... in particular the woman kind. You know, the ladies like. I exist in a realm of the world where I'm either consistently attending evenings where queer ladies and gentlemen boogie down with their bad selves, or else i frequent plenty of Burlesque events where both queer and bi and ghey and the heh-ero-sessssuals tend to at-tend in order to watch ladies get near nudey for their queerbigheyheherosessual thrills.
I've been thinking about all the stringent campaigns for equality that I've come across and taken part in, with regard to equal rights for all the sesssuals to love each other in their sessual ways, y'know? I've also been thinking about the contradictions I've then encountered in each of these worlds. Above board, these two worlds possess projections of addressing femininity and sexuality as something to celebrate, something to diversify, never to judge. What I've experienced has been somewhat different, however. Perhaps I expect too much from a country with foundations that are so completely conservative and unlike anything that I would accept in my own little mantra of my way of life, you know, of living and being nice and all that nice things and stuff, you know you know?(i fear i may be a little too ineloquent to take on the complexity of this subject matter, and perhaps should not have broached the subject whatsoever, as generally, i've found, my opinion IS WRONG. i'm ok with that, though.. i think. do you? oh no.)
Aaaaaaaaaaanywhooodle! Sure I'll power on with the opinions and all! Constantly in flux! La la la! (Read as: get out clause introductory portion of the paragraph, (SACH A WIMP!)). Friday evening, I attended a Burlesque event. I've become moderately less fond of Irish Burlesque if I'm perfectly honest. Perhaps, as my own experience of being part of that world, though it may have begun as a foray into projecting my own transformative self acceptance, it strangely led to an exodus in my own moderately successful introductory career (entry level tassle twirler, if you will) as I found performing at these events to be somewhat leery, irrationally competitive and I left with a general air of feeling hugely less confident and somewhat battered.
My personal opinion of the definition of Burlesque, as I have described before on this B to the LOG, (which of course you've been following BBZ!) is that of a subversive, coquetteish, playful method of utilising your own sexuality, taking control of it, and creating something be it beautiful, hilarious, disgusting, even outrageously sexy, but that it is your own, and is therefore empowering. My personal experience of Burlesque in Ireland has been disgustingly, outrageously... disappointing. The air of insecurity so palpable in my little experience in a certain London Burlesque club, is seeped throughout the Dublin Burlesque scene. I'm convinced I'll never be employed by them again, (eh NOT THAT I'D WANT TO REALLY, soz babes, I dumped ya firsty!) particularly after publicly projecting my disdain for how they have behaved in recent months. To say that they have treated me as a lower citizen as I am not a yoga instructor/professionally trained dancer/size eight is a complete truth. To say that I admired them all hugely is also a complete truth. To say that that admiration has dwindled is also, sadly TRUUUUE! Much as I admire what SOME of them do, I do not admire the way that they behaved. To me. And to others that I had the misfortune to publicly witness on Friday evening.
THAT SAID, there are a number of events which I fully support, such as Scarlett Nymphs wonderful work in making Doctor Sketchy's unmissable and the introduction of the heavily queer Black Rabbit Cabaret, and also, naturally, anything Bunny's Hutch does turns into a russian roullette of tentative mystery, being the only open-mic cabaret night I've ever witnessed... my attendance at other burlesque or cabaret events has completely dwindled... Reason being, I'm not sure I want to witness people performing who seem to have an ethic of marginilisation.........WHICH........brings me to my second IRK, of which I've been thinking...
The following article;
is a sneering post which is everything I dislike about the judgemental capacities of queer women against each other. Particularly those who may have been slower to come out, and seeing as their curiousity is welcomed so warmly I can't see why they'd have any difficulty with that! No no. I am aware that bisexuality can be utilised as a marketing tool, that it adds intrigue and salaciousness to an interview, I am also aware that the response to people proposing their thoughts about bisexuality is completely undercut by appalling displays of discrimination such as the above post. Not that she's intentionally being discriminational(IS THAT A WORD?), I mean, it's amusing, as a post... but I feel being amused at things, unless you're laughing at yourself, can be a little naive, particularly when it places itself in the forum of being offensive to someone of a marginilised sexuality. OH I DUNNO. It's just so limiting. So tense. So completely judgemental.
Classification seems so necessary in a still conservative Ireland.... that I think I'm classifying myself as generally irritated by everyone at this point. Much as in my aforementioned quest for equality, I am EQUALLY professing my disdain for those people proclaiming to operate under an alternative form of sexuality, and yet coming across as childish irritants so insecure with their own status that they must belittle others. HOWEVER, perhaps I'm now completely contradicting myself by expressing my irritation at them via the W W W (worldwideweb babes!), perhaps I need too to be accepting of those who feel such an anxiety about their own sexual power that they must behave appallingly. NAH. Think I'll just glare at them in a silent disdainful cowardly way....IT'S MY ULTIMATE WEAPON. Dark. Mystery. Then I'll blog about them. LOOK. I'm so mean. And all because of baby jeeebus being a zombaby jesus and my having time to think. Bet you're sorry now Easter Bunny.
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