This has nothing to do with games and is not a matter of legitimate public interest, but is simply a personal matter. I would hope and request that the games press be respectful of what IS a personal matter, and not news, and not about games. This…
Our dear friend PG Holyfield is at the bitter end of a surprisingly brief battle with cancer. We are raising funds to help make him as comfortable as possible in his last weeks, as well as offset medical costs, and care for his daughters. Any funds you can spare are appreciated and will help im…
PG is a wonderful guy who gave me a shot in 2011 at TuacaCon, and was tremendously inspiring and supportive. I only got to talk with him briefly at this year’s Balticon, but I feel glad that I was able to.
“Queer characters DO NOT and SHOULD NOT have to “make straight people see how normal we are”. I have no interest in characters in literature who look like me but are not for me. Queer characters should first and foremost be for queer people. If straight people get anything out it, then that is a neat perk. I reject the idea of cloaking characters in respectability politics because queer characters are not to blame for queer oppression.
I do not want characters that are written to teach straight people that we are “good people” because the logical extension is to blame queer characters (and queer people) for not being good enough.”—
Erato, the muse of lyric poetry, looked down from on high and furrowed her brow. Something was not right. She plucked at her kithara in agitation. She was dissatisfied. No, more than that, she was BORED. Pentameter was past its prime. Haiku were humdrum. Villanelles were so vaudeville. Limericks were completely lame. It was time for something new, something different. But what? With supernatural sight she peered from her perch on Mount Helicon and searched. Somewhere out there was the next big thing. It had to be challenging, and it had to be short. Drabbles? Now there was an idea.
Today in several cities it is Pride Sunday, the culmination of National LGBT month. For all of you who walk with pride or have pride in others you walk with, have a great day. To note this day, each year I take a look at the “state-of-the-state” of LGBTQ characters in DC Comics. You can read…
I didn’t expect that sexism would be such a prevalent issue in nerd culture. It surprised me that this blatant, unfair exclusion was being practiced in a culture that was pioneered for and by outcasts.
My band-sibling wrote this incredibly powerful article.
I just always thought “Random Encounter Bandmember” was a gender
My pal Rook wrote this and it’s important information for all of your eyes and brains to process.
That precedent is well illustrated in Jennie Livingstone’s celebrated 1990 documentary Paris Is Burning. Shot in the mid-to-late ’80s, the film explores New York’s “ballroom” scene, a subculture that allows LGBT people in major American cities — especially disadvantaged gay or trans people of color — to forge together under new identities.
The kids on the ballroom scene form houses under house mothers, and often take on new identities that may include the house name as their new surnames. Within these houses they compete in dance and drag contests at specially organized balls. The scene still exists to this day, but it enjoyed its peak in the ’70s and ’80s.
Pepper LaBeija, a New York drag queen and the mother of House of LaBeija, observed in the documentary, “When someone has rejection from their mother and father, their family … they search for someone to fill that void. … I’ve had kids come to me and latch hold to me like I’m their mother or like I’m their father.”
This is how the ballroom scene emerged. Kids rejected by their families sought out new families and new communities with other outcasts, other exiles, other orphans. These houses became their families. Ballroom became their community. The ballroom scene is just one of the many ways in which LGBT people have created their own support networks, united by their common fears and dreams.