A Slight Glitch

Hi, there. I've made a discovery about the Blogger posting process: even if you post something today, if you started writing it a couple of weeks ago, it is posted as though it were written AND posted then, in March. So though I published a new post yesterday, called "Spying on Myself," it appears in the post "queue" before the Easter Bunny one. I'm just vain enough to let you know where you can find it, in case it gets missed. If you are interested in reading it, I appreciate your extra effort in tracking it down—thanks for understanding!

Mother Will Be So Proud

Ladies and Germs, it is with a mix of elation and trepidation that I share my first public post, published on Monday the 12th by Torontoist. Here are a couple of paragraphs as a teaser, followed by a link to the rest. Thanks again to Ryan Bigge and Torontoistas David and Ashley!

The New Pornographers

Diversity dance company Ill Nana.

It's Friday night, and it's loud at Toronto's fifth annual Feminist Porn Awards. As in deafening. If the FPAs are "the Independent Spirit Awards of the porn world," as Tristan Taormino, writer, director, anal-sex guru, and nominee, has called them, the "spirit" part is in plentiful supply.

A glance around the Berkeley Church venue also confirms the "independent" part. All colours of the gender rainbow are represented, in all shapes, sizes, and ages. And if the bodies they adorn are of indeterminate sex, the outfits are coming through loud and clear, yelling, "Look at me!" The splendour runs the gamut from man-skirts to bordello hose, with killer corsets, blinding sequins and satins, and brothel-creepers as far as the eye can see. The evening's "Special Correspondent," Ryan Hinds, resplendent in purple, rains clouds of glitter as he prowls the crowd for interview subjects.

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And to thank you for stopping by, Gentle Readers, here are a few more never-before-published shots from my evening at the Awards:

Masti Kohr's Bollywood burlesque thrills 'em...


While CoCo La Creme brings 'em to their knees...



And Tristan Taormino takes the ultimate prize.

Boo! It's Easter

In celebration of the season, I sent this, one of my favourite images from the Awkward Family Photos site, to my friend Aaron. He responded with this link:

http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/the-65-sketchiest-easter-bunnies/

which in turn prompted the following response.


Quite an inclusive selection, wouldn't you say? Ranging from quirky to monstrous-slash-bestial to outright disturbing and possibly actionable. I find I'm drawn to the pathetic and/or sadistic ones, I'm afraid; e.g., the b&w dude with his sad little carrot bunch in # 5 & 25, the carnivorous beast of #64—which Awkward Family Photos captions "Hello My Pretty"—or any with palpably miserable children in their clutches. Then there are the drive-by candids, presumably of bunnies commuting to or from work, lunches packed in their gaily decorated baskets (or bundle buggies, as the case may be). My overall favourite of the bunch, however (pardon the pun), has to be #30. The shades, the beard, the sheet, the shoes peeking from under the bunny feet—and is that a motorcycle??? We just know, don't we, that this depleted gent needed the gig. That every year he tries out for mall Santa, but ends up only scoring the odd nursing-home visit. That that dubious little boy won't find Easter-egg chocolate on his breath. Nice fountain mural, tho'.



There's so much to discuss, isn't there? Where are these mall photo sessions with the EB occurring? I've never seen such a tradition around here. Are Canadians just missing the marketing boat in this regard?

And what about the conventions of the whole thing? There is apparently a huge range in styles re: bunny costumes, bunny outfits (jaunty waistcoats preferred, evidently), props, background, seating, etc. etc. Seems to me the whole EB industry is crying out for a Coca Cola- Santa-style makeover. So come on, Easter candy and paraphenalia manufacturers (this means you, PAAS, Peeps, Cadbury, etc.), it's high time for some standardization. Not too realistic, not too stylized, steer clear of ones that just look hungry or horny (e.g. # 4, 14, 28, 36, 45, 51, and 64). No sasquatch outfits or baggy track suits. And definitely no removable face masks—that's just asking for trouble. May I humbly suggest something along the lines of #12, 18, or 46, but a little friendlier. A velvet jacket and pink satin-lined ears (#38) are a good start, I think. Oh, and beware of copyright issues: Disney'll gut you like a fish of there's a whiff of Alice's White Rabbit in there. If I were you, I'd pair up with the good folks at Gund on this one.

And if it has to come at the expense of EB diversity, or be accompanied by a juggernaut marketing push of some trans-fat-laden products, we understand. After all, what is Easter for those of us in the secular world but the springtime equivalent to Hallowe'en: a nominally spiritual holiday co-opted by candy manufacturers?

But before I go, allow me to offer another option, an angle unexplored by the previous selection, and one that, for me, expresses the real spring-has-sprung, mating-season, rebirth/renewal sentiment of the holiday. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present: RuFluffy, the Bunny for the Other 10%. He's loud, he's proud, he's certainly fluffy (well, more like furry), and he's hopping your way (gingerly). And this Bunny don't lay no eggs....


Happy Easter, one and all.