Plugged Lynn Peril's name into Google, since I'd forgotten the location for Mystery Date and looking for it here would mean reading my crap writing and wincing. One of the results was an article she did about (a book on) Bettie Page.
LET ME get it off my chest right away: I am sick of Bettie Page, the dark-haired, straight-banged pinup model who walked away from it all in 1957. What has led to this ennui? In a word, oversaturation. The years following Page's disappearance have seen the rise of a veritable Bettie Page cult.
Which is actually more than I ever knew about the woman. The sorts of stores that feature merchandise bearing her image usually aren't the sorts of places where you want to ask questions. Not needing Comic Book Guy mocking my ignorance, thanks. I'll just hide it instead.
"D/DC occupies this space that isn't exactly comfortable for anybody," [member Tim'm T.] West tells me a week later, during our interview at Sexual Minority Alliance of Alameda County (SMAAC), the Oakland-based gay youth center where he worked until he recently left to pursue teaching high school full time. "We're not comfortable for black gay people; we're not a comfortable act for white gay people, white straight people, black straight people. We draw people who are actually thinking about identity - dealing with their racism and erotophobia. You don't get to be this cool gay white guy and not called out in some regards. But there are audiences that do get committed to the ideas that we're talking about, and they are doing some soul-searching."
I'm all in favor of soul-searching. For other folks, anyway. I ain't got time for that shit.
Any road up, think sfbg.com gets added to the sprawling monstrosity that is my bookmarks.
Since otherwise, I'd have to come back here to find the link. And ah hates doing that.