PHOENIX a'FIRE: In Rehearsal

When my application was accepted by SINS INVALID A.I.R. Program Director, Nomy Lamm, thus clearing way and confirming my participation in the inaugural 2010 SINS INVALID Artists In Residence (A.I.R.) Program, I found myself immediately embarking upon a long and exceedingly adventurous journey in discovery of perfection in performance-based self-portraiture through storytelling and song.

Little did I know then where it would lead me; however, I must say that truly I enjoyed every subtle step and bounding leap forward down that path I took from mere obscurity toward meager-to-maniacal celebrity, even if only within a very small, intimate community of disability activists and performance artists/aficionados, here in the Bay Area, alone.

The exact date that I happened to happen happily upon the NIEHS Sing Along Songs Children's Website and discovered their substantial collection of musical "midis" (i.e., simple, electronic instrumental versions of the vocal melody of a song recorded without audible lyrics, but rather with accompanying lyrics attached as text), I do not specifically recall.

Yet, I will not forget the tremendously joyous, spontaneous impulse of creative genius and pleasure that came to me when I fell serendipitously upon the musical midi of Alan Menken's "Part of That World," from the Disney masterpiece, LITTLE MERMAID.

Straightway, I knew just want I desired to do with this song. Thus, from that point just about a year ago today, when I did "stumbleupon" this particular melody and its lyrics, I endeavored to do meaningful justice not only to the song and songwriter himself, but also to my own audaciously bodacious and bawdy, unkempt, uncontrolled and unadulterated, quasimodo, quasi-grotesque, imperfect and ugly story of the destructive force of careless sexual device and drug abuse and my almost mythic – certainly, quite blessèd!! – rebirth as a "not hot, not well-endowed," but still quite sexual creature, deservedly so!!

With a spit-bit of pride, pomposity and yes, even perversion, I have the unique honor and privilege to premier a video recording of PHOENIX a'FIRE, a workshop rehearsal version of the song I performed as a live drag-burlesque musical number for the SINS INVALID A.I.R. Show: RESIDENT ALIEN.

Please be advised, as the title credits indicate, this video-recorded song is not intended for all audiences; the recommended minimum viewing age is 17 years. With PARENTAL ADVISORY, the video is given a Content Rating of NC-17, and all youth below that age are urged to seek parental permission before viewing this short webcam recorded musical video.

For those of my fans/followers who are of adequate age to view the film directly, I invite you now to enjoy a curiously compelling retrospective look back at my own creative process at work. And, I also encourage you, please, to share your thoughts on my original lyrics, as well as on the philosophy behind this "Musical Reconstruction," either by emailing me directly at matthew@qherekidsf.com, or simply by commenting directly on this blog post.

Otherwise, you also have the option of visiting my YouTube® Channel, where the video has also been posted for mass audiences and the world public at-large: http://youtube.com/qherekidsf. Please ENJOY!! Comments and feedback are duly encouraged! Thanks...

PHOENIX a'FIRE: In Rehearsal

COPYRIGHT © 2011 QHereKidSF | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

(recorded: San Francisco, CA USA; September 19, 2010)

http://www.youtube.com/qherekidsf

PHOENIX a'FIRE

Lyrics: Matthew Blanchard

Score: Colleen Nagle

Presented by SINS INVALID

2010 A.I.R. Performance:

RESIDENT ALIEN

Look at my face! Isn’t it gross?
Wouldn’t you think 

I’m much worse off than most?
What do you think of my grin, 

so grotesque & frightening?
This is my story; secrets revealed…
If I had lips they’d be loose and unsealed.
Looking at me you must think, 

“Shit! He’s lost everything!”
True - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I once had good looks & was handsome.
But, - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I was a barebackin’ tweaker whore.
I often begged for big cocks, 

“Cum inside me!”
Truth be told! Shame on me! 

I want MORE!!
I wanna fuck raunchy, nasty and wild!
I wanna cock raw, wet, deep inside me!
My ugly face would be frightful for
Licking. Sucking. Bareback Fucking!
Wearing a mask I don’t get too far;
Lips are required for kissing, sucking.
Can’t fit my mouth 

‘round a cum-dripping cock!!
Me sucked! Bare fucked! 

Tweaked high! Me DIED!!
 I smoked Tina first for the thrill;
I smoked her ‘til AIDS came for the kill.
Death had its aim; Meth was to blame!
Still I SURVIVED!!
As the myth goes, from ashes I rose
Like a great big fiery bird.
Nothing may spoil my heart unfurled
I’m a Phoenix a’FIRE!!
No I’m not hot! Not well endowed!!
But next to you, I can laugh & be proud.
Love me dearly! Do not fear me!
Dare just one glance at my pretty ass!
Just tell me… (spoken)
What is desire, and how does it 

What’s the word? – BURN?
Please hold me dear! Kiss me right here!!
My heart’s a Phoenix of DESIRE!!

RESIDENT ALIEN: 2010 SINS INVALID A.I.R. Performance

January 28 & 29, 2011 at Mission Cultural Center

2868 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA 94110-3908

© 2011 QHereKidSF | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Respectfully submitted,

Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF

Matthew D. Blanchard

matthew@qherekidsf.com
http://qherekidsf.com
http://bit.ly/qherekidsf

San Francisco, CA USA
[20110311T010356PT]

YouTube® - DIRTY LITTLE MERMAID!!

UP WHERE THEY BANG. UP WHERE THEY BONE.

This ludic, lascivious and salaciously sex-ified, unadulterated pornographic version of Alan Mencken's Part Of That World from Disney's animated masterpiece "The Little Mermaid," is rife with explicitly raunchy content that is only tempered by the calm, quaint, quintessentially Mencken balladry of its melodic serenade, its tender timbres and tonalities. 

The new lyrics, apparently written and performed by a Brown University sketch comedy group "Out Of Bounds," strike the perfect chord contrary to the adolescent nature of the music, to create something quite perturbing, post-pubescent and like was said, pornographic. The explicit nature of the lyrics juxtaposed with the original score is strikingly hilarious, riotously ridiculous; it soils the tongue and wounds the ears with perfect antitheses... What an amazing PARODY!! I'd recommend it to anyone!!



http://youtu.be/sNYDpH0Jors, posted by Nuclearknight77 (Oct. 23, 2006)

"Betcha on land they'd understand, and they don't f*ck over their daughters!
Wouldn't I love, love to f*ck like they do up above!... What is gonorrhea and why does it (what's the word?) -- BURN?... What would I give if I could have a VAGINA?..." 
A perverse, ludic, lascivious rendition of Alan MENCKEN'S  Part Of That World, from Disney's animated masterpiece "The Little Mermaid," with parodic lyrics by Boston University's sketch comedy group "Out Of Bounds."

Care to catch a glimpse of / listen to a right ridiculously point-on teaser to my Sins Invalid A.I.R. performance piece?? While the "Out Of Bounds" version of Part Of That World remains loyal to the balladic tempo, rhythm, melody and tune of the original, my deconstruction of the song will be resoundingly more punk-rockish, given the background, proclivity & inclinations of my accompanist & composer: Colleen Nagle. Check her out at http://subamerica.org or @subamerica on Twitter®!!! 

Can't wait to debut Phoenix a'Fire!! Our even more ludic, lascivious, salacious, sickeningly perverse and pornographic version of this song. Wait for it!! We'll be showcasing our work at Theatre Artaud (San Francisco, CA) sometime in December 2010...

Respectfully submitted,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard
San Francisco, CA USA
[20100807T030327PST]

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UBIQUITY OF MY UGLINESS...

Years before a corrosive, killer HIV/AIDS and Crystal Meth Combo cut a gaping hole in the middle of my face, stealing of me my beauty in one nightmarish turn of a page, a more curious and less caustic HIV/AIDS Crystal Meth Combo calamitously curtailed my intellectual and creative development.

The first chaotic combo interrupted and/or either suspended my bright young life for a good long while by stealing of me my sanity, my serenity and by forcing me into a manic messianic schizo-delusional psychosis.

Coincidentally, while my second doomsday downfall damn near destroyed all real remnants of my tangible, physical beauty, the AIDS & Crystal Meth Combo of my first foray with death through delusions brought be into a celestially sublime connection with the pure essence of beauty.

Back when the better bastion of boyhood me beamed smiling and sexy, you would have heard me brag in brash whispers of secrecy that my unmitigated drug dependency, coupled with my not-yet-medicated, unmonitored manic depression and HIV/AIDS disease likely stole a few good inches from my inseam and waist line. Drugs, depression and disease had turned me into the tweaked-out top-hungry twenty-something twink slut barebacking bottom boy I was better off born to me. By God!!

With legs freshly shaven, I used to like to try my way at prancing and dancing in heals. I had the posture of a princess back then, or better yet, of a QUEEN!! Taut, toned, tender and tanned, my thighs tightly tucked into tawdry, sultry, see-through silk-striped stockings, topped with frilly, flamboyant, fluorescent pink tutus & leotards, a black leather-laced bodice and breasts of bagged basmati. I dreamed of doing DRAG!!... And, my delusions brought me as close as I'd ever be to a diva's starlit status.

What are the odds that a poor, sorry, solitary, sad, sick, insane queer kid for sale on the streets of Skid Row, new to San Francisco, might remember in rich vivid clarity, in multi-dimensional Technicolor timbres and tonalities, his actual psychological demise from climax to cure, from onset to overture? Well, I do!!

I recall with great delight the drug-induced, yet truly transmundane delusions that seemed — For six months, let's say! That's a safe bet. — more reasonable and real, more true to me than ordinary and onerous everyday life, thanks to the immaculate bliss and beauty that back-lit every waking instant of my insanity.

Yet I couldn't, wouldn't waiver on the whims of consciousness long enough to remember much the long stretch of days three years ago that would prove to be so much more dramatically life-changing for me: twelve days of comatose confinement caged up in my stuffy, sterile studio, asleep, unconscious. My face pressed flat onto a putrid, pestilent pillow, under the heavy weight of my aching, dying brain. Saliva dripping down my cheek and chin to the sullied, soiled, sickening sheets only to invite infection in!!

Context may help! ... Here goes!! Far before October 2007, when I was found alone, half-dead in my apartment; on the brink of dehydration, starvation and brain damage; desperately in need of dialysis; having survived only by some heavenly happenstance the devastating detriment of PCP pneumonia and a necrotizing poly-microbial bacterial infection of the face... Far before a team of California's leading diagnosticians, doctors and surgeons attempted valiantly yet albeit failed so sorely to salvage my once so cute and charismatic, gorgeous gay boy grin...

Far before I woke from coma to gasp and gawk at my godforsaken, gruesomely grotesque, ghastly, ghoulish gaping hole of a grimace, I was so long ago quite blessed — Or cursed? However the story goes! — to have had a right entrancing, sexy smile.

Before my brutal, bestial, ferocious fall from grace and yet thanks still then too to drugs, depression and disease, I could boast the beauty of a primped, polished pansy boy physique made potent by the unrelenting rush of salacious, sex-crazed hedonism which happened to hammer out haphazardly into hormonal hot flashes and "meth'merized" highs.

Oh!! And shan't I forget the illicit, alluring beauty of my tight little tush and thighs that tempted and fed far too many a head-spun, tail-furious tweaker top tucked away either between the bathhouse backrooms of Berkeley or beneath the bent, broken branches and burning bush there best past bedtime in Buena Vista Park.

Now, today, post-op eleven-fold with twelve more surgical reconstructions on the books, I'm nothing but a torn, tattered tapestry of scars, skin grafts and flaps of flesh festooning my funny, freakish face.

My legs, once softened and smoothed by the razor's edge, are now covered in patches of naked, hairless, flimsy flesh only a few layers fine. Coincidence now predominates, for the large surgical scar that defiles to devastating depths my sorry specimen of a lower left leg seems to be far smoother and softer, far more delicate and lady-like that it e'er had been before, despite the patterned ripples of a serrated texture that rises and rolls along the "miscontours" of my crippled calf.

I should be thankful then that hair still groups from the pair of embossed rectangular skin graft scars that are slowly fading from the front of my lower left thigh. But, I'm not grateful to have my torso tarnished by the twisted pucker of a scar in the middle of my gut where a G.I. tube once hung for fourteen months, two weeks and five days past the point it first proved futile at feeding me.

I call it my "Octo-Orifice!!;" although, it's shut tight & leaks no more. I call it also my "Second Bellybutton," because in all actuality, that's exactly what it is. Yet, instead of being nourished by placenta pumped to my stomach through an umbilical cord, I was this second time around, at the moment of my rebirth, fed synthetic, high-protein, carb-loaded "blender'ized" slop seeped into me through a twelve foot long number three plastic tube that hung between my belly and an upside down bottle of so-called sustenance like a drip-line. In all actuality, that's exactly what it was...

Moving onward and upward, we arrive at the loosely bandaged, still wide open hole in my neck, where my tracheotomy tube once hung. Honestly, I don't know whether or not I am more grateful to be rid of the tube that took so much time and attention to tend to, or if I am madly resentful of my own eight layers of healthy, still living skin and of the thick musculature of my tender trachea for taking so long a time to heal up and seal up.

So, still I wait... Committed to a daily ritual of stripping Xeroform® and four-by-four gauze sponges from the sweaty, scratchy hole in my neck, still I wait... I wait only still to be enslaved to a stolid, chin-strapped schedule for showering, in which I must each morn tightly velcro a water-hazard choke-guard security-sheath above my shoulders and below my chin, before stepping in to let my cleansing begin.

No wonder that I avoid the shower spigot like SARS or Swine Flu: the plagues which passersby suppose sicken me. ME! The sorry, sad face behind the surgical mask who meanders mindlessly, miserably amid mankind's miscreant misjudgments of much of my own mad, mad melancholic misfortune.

And, By God!! I sure as hell am not one infinitesimally small grain of grit grateful for this muddled mutant monstrosity of a quasimodo mouth I've been melded into for the moment. I don't have enough fingers or toes or hairs growing from my forehead flap of a nose... There are a lot of them; mind you! Bet your life on it! Hairs grow hoggishly long and hamstrung from the impenetrable depths of my makeshift nostril, nose and septum to curl down the coarse discolored curvature of my leg flap look-alike lip. And, Hell Man!! Fuck!! Do they itch or what??

Truth be told; I don't even have enough holes, appendages, protrusions, flaps of flesh, scars or skin grafts on my body to be able to begin to count the magnanimous mind's eye momentum of hatred and disgust that I have for this gruesome, ghoulish, ghastly grin of mine!

And, Yet Alas!! I've stayed safe, sane and sober over one full year, and for what reason? Because despite the ubiquity of my bitterly unbecoming and brutish ugliness, I've somehow retained remnants and remembrances enough of a time in my life when in my bitterly unbecoming and brutish insanity, I discovered the true meaning of beauty.

Beyond the awkward, obtuse, abstract, anthropomorphic aesthetic of the Tina-torn, AIDS-quilted, quizzical contours of my monstrosity of a mouth, I seen endless opportunity for elaborate beautification and solemn self-betterment. Buried not too deeply behind the dug-out disfigurements of my blasphemed, begotten, brutalized body and face — For sure! I'm certain. — there lies alive immaculately innocent, blessedly beautiful baby blue boy eyes...

Respectfully Submitted,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard
San Francisco, CA USA
[2010.07.14@20:29PST]

AIDS IS A PERVASIVE PANDEMIC THAT BLEEDS THROUGH
THE LINES OF COLOR, CREED & CAPITULATES TO NO ONE BUT
THE POSITIVELY AWARE & PREVENTION-MINDED SURVIVORS.
— Matthew D. Blanchard

THE SUBJECT NO LONGER HAS TO BE MENTIONED BY NAME.
SOMEONE IS SICK. SOMEONE ELSE IS FEELING BETTER NOW.
A FRIEND HAS JUST GONE BACK INTO THE HOSPITAL.
ANOTHER HAS DIED. THE UNSPOKEN NAME, OF COURSE, IS AIDS.
— David W. Dunlap

OVER & OVER, THESE MEN CRY OUT AGAINST THE WEIGHT OF
SO MANY LOSSES — NOT JUST A LOVER DEAD, BUT FRIENDS,
AND FRIENDS OF FRIENDS, DOZENS OF THEM, UNTIL IT SEEMS
THAT AIDS IS ALL THERE IS AND ALL THERE EVER WILL BE.
— Jane Gross

STUDY TRACK: Trans-Queer Art of Drag!!

The following is text of a journal entry I recently uploaded to my Last.fm profile, in response to revelations I had had upon listening to CHICK POP!! (Kelly Clarkson Radio) for the first time on this internet radio service. The POP DIVA music that was played to me when I entered "Kelly Clarkson" (and eventually "Madonna") as play topics in the radio station configuration widget ignited in me a deep, spontaneous desire to expound upon my penchant and proclivity for all things DRAG!! Please read this journal entry, and offer some feedback!!

Let me know what you think about my idea to study DRAG PERFORMANCE at the graduate level, and to begin my studies before applying to graduate school with extensive field research in San Francisco and in other locales where there might be a thriving experimental queer performance circuit. I imagine a career teaching & directing young, budding drag princes & princesses, and progressively developing a solid, critical theory & history & aesthic of the art of DRAG PERFORMANCE. It sounds like a righteous, awesome plan to me!! But, the question is...can I turn it into a graduate or post-graduation educational track and an eventual profession? And can I get funding to study such an avant-garde, alternative, peripheral form of art?

PLAYLISTS: ponderances of prettily
pontificated pleasure listening...
[ Last.fm JOURNAL Entry : 06.16.09 ]

Early this morning (or was it late last night? — I DON'T CARE!! I don't know!!), I randomly found myself linked to Last.fm on my computer, just listening for pleasure and to be introduced to new musical artists, as I sketched away in my drawing book and diary. I had nothing to do after reaching a moment of pause in my doodling, so I sat down to record tags and playlist (v.) certain songs that I had been listening to on the random, fagottry "flame-boi-ant-lee" FIERCE station "Artist - Kelly Clarkson Radio."

See, I enjoy Kelly Clarkson. At least, I am fond of her debut album, which I had previously purchased from the iTunes Store for my music library and to which I have listened avidly and with pleasure recently. So, I thought that I would enjoy songs by various artists similar to Kelly Clarkson, and essentially (vaguely?), I did.

What's so poignantly perturbing about this inclination of mine to listen to CHICK POP!! (or what I have called "LA LA Lady" POP!!), is that these songs awaken in me my deep-seeded interest in and penchant for the trans-queer experimental performance art of DRAG!! All the songs that I listened to tonight, and especially the ones that I added to my new playlist, are perfect for a budding drag princess musical performance repertoire.

As I am no longer beautiful enough a boy to "trans-form" my fabulosity into a FIERCE "Fagged-Out Funambulist Freak Show" drag diva dreaming, because I have lost my face after a terribly traumatic illness and injury to the face: a necrotizing bacterial infection (i.e., Gangrene!!) that led subsequently to the amputation and ongoing craniofacial reconstructions of my mouth, nose and upper jaw, I can no longer dream of becoming a drag diva one day.

But I can and do dream of becoming what I like to think would be an objective, outside expert on the study of EXPERIMENTAL QUEER PERFORMANCE (i.e., drag!!), it's AESTHETICS and its HISTORY; its COMMON PRACTICES & CANONICAL DEFINING ELEMENTS; and eventually discovering/creating a theory behind it all!!

This is a dream that I can still pursue, even to a graduate/post-graduate level of study, to receive a PhD in Performance Studies and to teach DRAG at the M.F.A. Level. A significant component of my dream accomplished would be to open a B.F.A./M.F.A. Drag Performance Conservatory where accomplished older drag queens who have succeeded in stretching the boundaries of their art and in creating a variety of memorable personae act as master teachers, training young gay (or straight!! yes, of course, straight!!) men in the practice of the art of drag performance: vocal technique, lipsyncing, dance, costuming, wig design/maintenance, makeup design, character development, history, aesthetics, experimentation, defining your own art, etc... The school could also be geared toward lesbian or straight women interested in pursuing the art of the Drag King!!


Here's an example of premier Experimental Queer Performance (DRAG!!) from the San Francisco Bay Area's ultimate drag performance phenomenon: Trannyshack!! HEKLINA is a mega-star in San Francisco!! Wow! It'd be a dream to study with her for a couple of months, and to really get acquainted with her performance style and technique, maybe even eventually helping her rediscover and redefine some of her aesthetic, to make it all more theatrical, professional, performative (instead of just kitsch, like you see here in this video!) But, "kitsch" is popular!! It's what works! I wouldn't want to change anything that works well, maybe just enhance it or at least study it in depth. The theories & practices that I will develop in this course of study will ultimately transcend the kitsch & camp, and will be true, genius art. That's my dream! And Heklina would be a great partner in crime for this adventure: a dream diva to work with!!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
These songs that I have listened to: CHICK POP!! are perfect songs for the contemporary drag repertoire. For now, before ever thinking of going back to school to study DRAG, I should start by conducting independent field work on my own, interviewing drag queens in the San Francisco Bay Area and afar, learning their techniques for developing character, examining their personal endeavors at training themselves, because no school really exists yet, and learning about the dynamic of the drag diva/princess mentoring relationship.

I could feasibly write some articles for scholarly journals about the art of drag and about my observations based on extensive independent field study and get published before applying to grad school. This would only help the acceptance process and prime me for admittance to only the best, topnotch Performance Study PhD programs in the country (particularly, the local UCBerkeley program, or the NYU Tisch School Program, or the Northwestern Program, or a program at UCLA—but I think Berkeley would be most accepting toward this route of study!!).

I definitely can get access to a number of San Francisco Bay Area drag queens (the most reputed, widely acclaimed and celebrated, and the most successful) for interviews and such, via Facebook and connections I have to the Imperial Court of San Francisco and to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, Inc. This would not be difficult; it would only take initiative and courage on my part to face my fears of interacting with new people despite my disfigurement and despite the fact that I wear a mask. But, for sure! This would give me something constructive to do during the in between time before and after my subsequent reconstruction surgeries.

All this thought about my desires to study DRAG PERFORMANCE stems directly from this "Artist - Kelly Clarkson Radio" that I was listening to on Last.fm. All of these wonderful female pop sensations that I discovered just listening to this brand of music has opened my mind to so many possibilities.

I could even think about dabbling in direction of drag personae, working with budding or seasoned drag queens to refine and redefine their personae and the style of their performance, for the sake of aesthetic enhancement of their performances. And I could feasibly organize a evening of drag performances directed and choreographed by myself and other talented drag queens or professionals and debut it at the supperclub san francisco [ S© ], a contemporary, chic dining and performance space in the South of Market District of Downtown San Francisco, reputed for hosting the Beneficiary Awards Reception of FOLSOM STREET EVENTS® each year, for the past three years. It'd be a perfect space for something like that! What a great idea! It would just take a lot of work, and a large following of committed drag queens!! You think I could do it? I wonder...

Tonight, I also completed my POP ALTERNATIVE MALE VOCALISTS playlist, so that it includes just enough playable tracks and individual artist to be playable itself on Last.fm. Now, I should be able to call this playlist up to be played on my Blogger® Page: http://qherekidsf.blogspot.com/, where I have a Last.fm widget in my right-hand sidebar. In fact, that is how I discovered Last.fm...through Blogger® gadgets.

And finally, I also edited the Last.fm P!nk biography to include playable tracks, links to artists' pages and an END NOTE on the super queer-fabulous friendship between P!nk and Ellen Degeneres. I wrote of how P!nk's appearances on the ELLEN DEGENERES SHOW have only served to promote (if not cement?) P!nk's stardom and pop celebrity. I cited the fact that P!nk was one of the only musical artist to be selected to perform at Ellen's 50th birthday party. And how P!nk debuted ELLEN's "Bathroom Concert Series" with a duet rendition of "So What." Here's a YouTube video of that performance:


Wasn't that just great to watch!! Their friendship is such a reward and a remark on the power and pomposity of the queer community!! They are both such stalwart advocates of equality for all!! And their friendship is magical, helping to define both of their celebrities. That was my final bit of contribution to Last.fm this morning, and that is where I will end this journal entry.

Please respond with comments, feedback and shoutbacks!! I'm always interested in hearing from followers of my blog and journals to see if there's any apparent way that my perspective on things might change because of what I learn from others. That's how it works for me! It's about give and take... So please give a little bit of comment on what I've discussed here as my drag diva deuteronomous dreamings!! Thanks!! And I look forward to next time... Cheers! Ciao! Namaste!

Respectfully submitted,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard
San Francisco, CA 94109-7821
[MDB2009.06.16@06:43PST]

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IF ONE ADVANCES CONFIDENTLY IN THE DIRECTION
OF HIS DREAMS, AND ENDEAVORS TO LIVE THE LIFE
HE HAS IMAGINED, HE WILL MEET WITH A SUCCESS
UNEXPECTED IN COMMON HOURS.
— Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

So what do you think of all of this? It's a far off thought that I pontificated on in journal form for my Last.fm audience, so that I could share it with all of my blog followers now. It's a unique thought, this idea of mine! What I didn't leave mention for in the journal entry was the pinultimate crux of the idea I actually have to broaden my study of the trans-queer art of drag. I shouldn't share the idea now, for fear that someone might steal it, but I highly doubt that my readership is of such high numbers that I could risk losing out on the originality of an idea to intellectual property theft or mishandlings.

So, I'll venture forth with the crux of the idea here in the closing of this blog entry. What I envision as a graduate or post-graduate work of study and scholarly writing is the publication of a combo piece of academic and how-to literature. I envision publishing an outrageous, cartoon-illustrated how-to book with in depth instructions on the study of DRAG PERFORMANCE that incorporates academic writing in a covert, obtuse but very accessible way about the History & Aesthetic Developments of Contemporary Drag and Drag Performance throughout the ages.

There would be discussions on Greek Comedy (like Lysistrata), DRAG in Gothic Passion Plays, Elizabethan Drag Performance, performance of the costumed lovers' tryst in 17th & 18th century French Comedy of Manners & Comédie Bourgeoise, to discussion on the pre-war art of female impersonation and the carnival-esque in Britain, France & Germany.

There will also be discussions on post-war French surrealist & dada theatre (such as Apollinaire's Les Mamelles de Tirésias), to writing on pre- & post-Stonewall modern drag performance and eventually on contemporary experimental avant-garde drag performance in film and theatre (such as Priscilla, Queen of the Desert; To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar; Hedwig & the Angry Inch; La Mala Educazione, as well as other lesser known cult film classics), and discussion on contemporary regional drag traditions across the country and across the globe (such as San Francisco's very own local cult phenomenon: Trannyshack!! hosted by the infamous and celebrated icon, HEKLINA—as seen in the first video embedded into my journal entry).

The book would be accessible to all queer and queer-friendly audiences and would particularly be used as the major academic learning text for the Conservatory of Drag Performance that I have envisionned opening in San Francisco or Los Angeles or in New York City. The book could have accompanying texts, such as exercise books for character studies, and could include a CD or DVD compilation of recorded audio or video drag performances and DIVA pop!! for the musical drag repertoire: a comparative musicological study on the various genres particularly fitting for various traditions of drag performance around the globe, and throughout history.

See, I have high hopes, and I am here, right now, laying claim to this very unique idea!! I haven't heard anyone ever discuss such an idea as plausible and feasible, but I believe that it especially is so. It's something that could really spark a burning ember of passion amongst the queer and queer-friendly communities for the art of drag, in essence, refining the public's tastes on the art of drag performance and improving the art itself, at the same time. This is what I envision!!

What do you think of the idea? Don't steal it from me! This idea has given me something to live for beyond my disfigurement!! I want so badly to make it happen, to realize this dream of mine, and ... IT IS POSSIBLE!! I just have to hope and pray that some seasonned, professional DRAG QUEEN doesn't come along and accomplish all that I have described before I get a chance to get around to start pursuing it as a plausible, real idea myself. That's my matter of worry! That's the only obstacle standing in my way!!

I should copyright this!! In fact, from here on out...ALL OF MY BLOGS ARE COPYRIGHTED BY QHEREKIDSF | MATTHEW BLANCHARD, ©2008-2009!! I hereby lay claim to my own ideas!! Let this be record of one of my particularly major, significant proprietary ideas: intellectual property!! What do you think? Are you gonna plan on stealing the idea from me?? Gosh, I hope not! What else would I have to live for?? That's all for now! Peace Out! Cheers! Ciao! And Namaste...

Copyright ©2009
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew Blanchard
San Francisco, CA 94109-7821
[MDB2009.06.16@12:31PST]

Demetri @ Folsom Street Events® : A Respected, Inspiring Colleague

Throughout the year 2006, I had the distinct honor & priviledge to work for an incredible man at an awesome organization that was only weakened by the trifling and petty control games of its fetish-friendly all-volunteer Steering Committee or Board of Directors. Demetri Moshoyannis was the Executive Director of FOLSOM STREET EVENTS®, who hired me on as Administrative Coordinator charged with office, accounts & project management; exhibitor/vendor relations & rental sales; events planning; assisting with marketing & sponsorship campaigns; desktop publishing and constant collaboration on ideas about how we'd see the organization grow.


It was Demetri's first year as Executive Director, hired only three or four months before me, and in one year, we together accomplished the impossible. We turned the organization around, increased sponsorship dollars by 92%, instituted a direct marketing campaign, improved media relations and community outreach, achieved a 115% Exhibitor rental sell out, produced four premier events, and served the Board of Directors to the very best of our abilities. The only problem for me was that my style was off; it was different, naive and trite, contemptuous in many ways, only because I wasn't being listened to by any one of my colleagues except for my admirable, open-minded boss: Demetri.

I was full of ideas all the time, and I was desperate to be heard, constantly chiming in on Planning Committee conversations and very vocally pushing my ideas on the Board. I was only hoping that they would find value in my enthusiasm, creativity, ingenuity, intelligence; but instead, they all (each in their own right) responded very caustically to my brash misgivings, which I only intended as gestures of solidarity and support. As the year progressed, the relationships (or semblance there of) I had developed with the Board members (especially the Board President and the Exhibitors Division Chairwoman, who directly controlled the reception of the majority of all of my work on the job) progressively began to deteriorate and erupt in frustration. The only ally I had was my boss, Demetri.

Demetri was always there to listen to the bantering and blabbering, to the constant flux of ideas and suggestions and concepts and proposals flowing from my mind. He knew, as well as I did, that it wasn't very realistic to expect the Board to go along with any of my ideas, because as I say later, I was a "mere underling," but he listened to & considered each of my thoughts, filing them in the back of his mind as our own private stash of possibilities..."for the Future!," we would say. Little did I know that the Future would be short at hand and obstructed by my termination by the emboldened, bitter, brutally angry Board President, who just did not like me.


I'll set the record straight, before I continue: I was no perfect employee. Demetri gave me very many liberties with him in our private, professional relationship; liberties that the Board Director found offensive and improper. I got my job done always, but to my own slow canter. What my naivety prevented me from realizing was that a group of fetish-friendly BDSM community leaders, professionals, like the FOLSOM STREET EVENTS® Board of Directors, would much rather prefer a master-slave relationship with their "underlings," expecting due diligence and immediate response to all commands. Demetri was a fetish freak, a founder of the San Francisco and Los Angeles chapters of the "Men of Discipline," a BDSM fetishistic military-style fraternity of platonic and sometimes sexual partners, but Demetri had a soft side for me where I constantly found refuge.

I'll forever remember the day my employment was terminated. It was a Friday, after a full week of steady accomplishments. Just that day was the deadline for Beneficiaries to submit their applications: an important day; and oddly, the Board President shows up midday and installs himself at the head of the conference table. Demetri then got very quiet; in fact, if I remember correctly, he had pretty much been quiet all that day, not engaging in much of any conversation with me. Then at one point, around 3pm, Demetri picked up a folder from his desk and solemnly walked over to sit down next to the Board President at the conference table. There was silence, long empty silence. I wondered what was going on.

Then Demetri quietly, humbly muttered, "Matt, would you come here please and have a seat." I was confused. I didn't know what was going on and definitely had that look on my face when I sat down next to the Board President, opposite my boss, the Executive Director. That's when I saw Demetri's face and heard him struggling with his breath, obviously uncomfortable in his seat. His eyes showed such anxiety. He received a cold, commanding stare from his boss, the Board President to urge him to say what needed to be said, but Demetri really was struggling to say it: "Matt, we've decided to let you go."


That's basically all he said for the rest of the berating. I say "berating" because that's exactly what it was. The Board President began to speak vehemently, brutally slicing his words at me in his stuffy British accent, proceeding to condemn me for all of my myriad of inconceivable inadequacies. His voice got loud. He was infuriated. When I tried to speak up and defend myself, painfully attempting to salvage some self-respect and any chance at a job I had left, he yelled me down, hollering "THERE'S NO DEBATING THIS! WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE! THAT'S THAT! You have no choice but to sign your severance package, turn in your keys and leave." (I paraphrase: poetic license!)

This entire time I was pleading with Demetri silently, with my tearful eyes and dropped jaw, to speak up and stop this attack. I was certain, by view of the harrowing, desperately uncomfortable look on his face, that Demetri did not want to be doing this. I figure he was forced to, threatened with being fired himself if he didn't fire me or at least go along with the Board President firing me. I swear, I saw tears in his eyes. He looked like a meek little puppy, condemned to obey his master. I accepted the decision with great disappointment, shivering in tears of anxiety, gathered my things and walked out, but not without putting out my hand to Demetri for a shake, a good-bye. That's when Demetri grabbed my hand and pulled me in to a deep embrace, a strong, impassioned bear hug. I could feel his sweat, hear his heart thumping rapidly. I could also hear him screaming silently inside his own head, "I'M SO SORRY! I DIDN'T WANT THIS! THIS ISN'T RIGHT! I HAD NO CHOICE!" (I paraphrase: poetic license! hehehe.)

At that moment, I knew that something wonderful was coming to an end. Despite all the trauma and turmoil of working for a Board of Directors that held me in the least esteem, Demetri really cared. He believed in me. I had somehow so stupidly succeeded in taking advantage of the liberties he'd give me, and I somehow, some time, over-stepped some invisible, undetermined boundaries. I had crossed a line. Demetri would have been willing to let me step right back to the right side and start over afresh, but the Board President would not let me move an inch. He had caught me where he wanted me, right where I was vulnerable and helpless and had no choice, no chance to survive.

I knew that I was losing a really great thing: a really great boss!! And to demonstrate the great respect and admiration I had and still have for Demetri Moshoyannis as a professional, I decided to write him a recommendation for his LinkedIn® Profile, hoping that he'd accept it and proudly display it on his profile. Words spoken from the heart. I preface the recommendation text with an email further describing my feelings for Demetri, speaking directly to him, instead of about him. I hope he appreciates and is truly touched by what I have to say. Both the email and the recommendation I just submitted to Demetri today via LinkedIn® are cited below. Let me know what you think! I'd like to know that someone finds my words moving and meaningful. Please.

LINKEDIN® EMAIL TO DEMETRI MOSHOYANNIS

Dear Demetri,

I've written this recommendation of your work to share with other LinkedIn® users.

You were a great boss, Demetri! The best I'll probably ever have. While I regret the occasional squabbles between you and me over mere trifles, I will forever be grateful for the many times when you actually listened to my ideas and encouraged me to express myself, when others were so bitterly opposed to me speaking my mind.

It makes me sad that I was stupid enough to let the opportunity to contribute my gems of creative thought slip from beneath me and not to see maybe even just one of my ideas embraced and implemented, by making mistake after adolescent, maniacal mistake.

I only wish our tenure together could have lasted even just one fair season longer, just to see how well we could have fused our minds together, have had me gain some ground with our colleagues, be respected and affect really positive change in the organization. Thank you for treating me like a human being when others would not.

I'm sorry for my mistakes. I'll always cherish the experience of working with you. Thank you for trying so hard to keep believing in me, even when I was at my worst. Thank you for your compassion.

And with that said, I leave you to read and review the recommendation below that I wrote for you. It's from the heart, maybe too much so! If you need me to toughen it up and streamline it a little with a revision, I will. I hope though that you will at least appreciate and return the gesture.

Good luck with the 2009 Fair Season! Don't get too burnt out! FSE needs you at your prime. What would they do without you?? I don't know. God Bless! Namaste. Peace Out.

Let me know what you think of the recommendation. I hope you'll post it to your profile. I feel honored to contribute to your professional profile on LinkedIn®. Just a gesture, fully and rightfully deserved. Tootles! Read on...

Most Sincerely,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew Blanchard

DETAILS OF THE RECOMMENDATION

Demetri was a superb, insightful, creative, compassionate boss, a real pleasure to work for during my time as his assistant in 2006. He was respectfully lenient and understanding, without ever letting me forget my responsibilities, and while still demanding intelligent, inspired collaboration, feedback and ideas of me: a lowly underling.

One thing I never could doubt when working with Demetri was that he knew his stuff. He is a pro! A truly inspiring leader and a dutiful servant to the organization, fighting constantly to improve the standards and practices upon which FOLSOM STREET EVENTS® stands.

With his continuing tenure at the helm of the organization, I am only certain that it will continue to grow & prosper. FSE has blossomed and beefed up under his leadership already! I'm anxious to see how far he can take the juggernaut that is "Fetish Freedomland": Folsom Street Fair®!!

I constantly croon in nostalgia over the lost opportunity to continue to see FSE rise to megalithic glory with Demetri at the reigns and me, his fagged-out funambulist freak show front desk man by his side. He respected and nurtured me when no one else would. For that I am eternally grateful!

I will always fondly remember my experience working with this "Man of Discipline," and I will equally regret ever letting him down. Thanks, Demetri! And I'm sorry...