Another Queer Jewish Buddhist

The Gay-O-Meter

What is the correlation between homophobia and attraction to men in the same person? This ad for a website in New Zealand makes the case that Max Blumenthal so eloquently makes in his book, Republican Gomorrah.

Curmudgeonly Rant: Typewriters and Copywriters, Copy and "Verbiage"

A Chilean advertising agency has created a campaign for a copywriter's award show that uses typewriters as the, pardon me, key visual.

As a copywriter, and a collector of typewriters, this gives me an opportunity to vent a little on the subject of just what it is that I write. I write copy. When an account person says, "I need some verbiage here," my blood boils.

The word verbiage means an excess of words. I think of it as meaning verbal garbage. The Random House dictionary defines verbiage as "overabundance or superfluity of words, as in writing or speech; wordiness; verbosity." A repetitive definition that becomes, in fact, what it is defining.

The American Heritage dictionary definition is much simpler: "An excess of words for the purpose."

Of course, some art directors think any words are an excess. And I must admit, in the class I teach on headline writing, I spend a good deal of time teaching students the value of visual headlines, or visuals that are so clever and compelling they don't need a headline. But this opinion, that any words are too many, and thus not copy, but verbiage, is something that transcends cultures, as this ad by Brother, the aforesaid agency:

 

The headline translates as "This copy is meant to mess with the art director who said the image works by itself."

Love it. But what really stopped me when I came across this ad tonight on Ads of the World, was the Oliver typewriter. I have an Oliver — it's unusual and gracefully swooping wings of type and its olive color make it a very distinctive machine. And built like a tank, there are still thousands of these machines around and in working order, more than 100 years after they came of the assembly line. In this ad though, you'll notice that the product is named Revilo (Oliver backwards). The Oliver name was already a registered trademark in some places, and thus the company used their name backwards to avoid paying a licensing or royalty fee.

The campaign also shows a Hammond Multiplex (these are circa 1913 or so) which as you can see below, does not use type bars, but rather a type cylinder not unlike the type ball of the IBM Selectric. The cylinder was easily replaceable, making it a popular tool for scientists and mathematicians, who use special characters and symbols. And those who write in more than one language. I also have a Hammond Multiplex (as well as a Franklin, a Corona 3, several Royals, a couple of Olivettis, an Empire, a Smith Premium #2 as well as a Remington Noiseless — and I long to add a Blickensderfer 7 in good condition to the list someday).

 

But to return to my bugaboo word, verbiage, for a moment. The people who use this word don't know what it means. But unconsciously, I believe, they are displaying their disrespect for the craft and for words, by using it. It's used dismissively. And I take umbrage.

On my portfolio site, there is a photo of a typewriter ribbon tin that's also part of my collection. And it uses the word that describes what I produce.

 

I know some snarky reader out there will no doubt say that this post is in fact an example of verbiage. The style I use on this blog, often filled with long parentheticals, isn't the way I write copy — to be a good copywriter is to take on, or create, the voice of your client. If you don't like my blog writing style, I could care less. I like having someplace to use words like bugaboo and umbrage in the same paragraph, and I enjoy readers who enjoy words in the same way I do. That's the blog. Don't like it? Click off.

My copy however, is never verbiage.

From Another Queer Jubu to Another Frum Gay Jew...

Yes, for those of you who follow this blog, you might be interested to know there is a blog out there written by a gay student at YU about his experiences being out, frum and at an orthodox institution.

What I love about the title of his blog (apart from the fact that there's an echo in the names) is that it makes it clear he's not the only one. In fact, the use of the word "another" suggests he's just a garden variety gay frum jew. That actually, there are lots of them. And in truth, there are.

My great-uncle Alfred (may his memory be for a blessing) lived an orthodox life — and lived in Montreal's gay ghetto after he escaped from Auschwitz and made it across to safety in North America (now there's a story). He chose to live in Montreal rather than in NYC apart from the only family he had left because while he lived as a frum Jew, he also had relationships with men. And in that era there was no way he could be out to his remaining, surviving brother, my grandfather.

When I chose the title of this blog, it was with a kind of a wink — since there are those who think, like unicorns, people who identify themselves as queer jubus are rare if not mythical creatures. And while certainly it may seem that way to some, in the circles I run in, well, there seem to be a lot of us. We even have a few patron tzaddikim, starting with Allen Ginsberg, and running to a number of out gay men who are both jewish and serious practitioners and teachers of Buddhist meditation.

Ultimately though, it's all about crossing the boundary, and recognizing when I do so, that just as I kiss the mezuzah and remind myself of the V'ahavta prayer, that with the Shema, is a radical statement of the unity of the universe — that ultimately boundaries don't exist. From one kind of Jewish perspective it would be saying the Divine is everywhere and not separate from me and you and everything, so to put a mezuzah on the door is to remind myself that when outside or inside we are never separate. That when I leave my home and face people I don't know, I am seeing the face of the Divine manifested again and again. Or as the old joke goes: What did the Buddhist priest ask the hot dog seller? Make me one with everything. 

It's one reason the subject matter of this blog is so hard to pin down. Makes it hard if I wanted to hit a large demographic and build a reader base that would enable me to live on advertising sales. I could say that it's a blog about Japanese Animation (one love of mine) and have a particular readership and ad base. Because there aren't enough queer jubus for advertisers to care about. I know. I'm also an advertising executive. Talk about boundary crossing. 

Of course, for the frum, the boundary is the path. And it is indeed a path. Just not my path. There is both Gevurah and Chesed. (And of course, paradoxically, they are not separate from each other.) I take as my guide what Rebbe Nachman said about following halacha only as the vehicle. Like the parable of the monk who carries the boat on his back after he crosses the river, it has become an unnecessary burden.

As usual, I ramble.

Anyway, I truly wish the young man over at anotherfrumgayjew.com all the best on his journey. I wish him true conscious relationship with the Divine, conscious relationship with his community, and conscious relationship with a loving partner.

Groping for words: An awareness campaign for testicular cancer — and the risk factors for gay men and cancer

The local office of McCann Erickson ran this very funny (and I am sure homophobia inducing) campaign for awareness among men of how to check for testicular cancer. Using guerilla tactics of die-cut hands placed strategically on seats and elsewhere to grope the family jewels of men in gyms, sports stadiums, car washes, pool halls...this campaign, at least according to the agency led to an 11% increase in doctor visits where men asked about the disease and examination. And to get any man to go to the doctor, much less ask about something like this is no easy feat. Now add to the fact that this campaign ran in Macedonia, where the macho ethic of hyper-masculinity is quite alive and well in the culture, and the success of the campaign is all the more praiseworthy.

Of course, gay men who were watching Queer As Foik several years back got the low down on this when in season 4, Brian was diagnosed with testicular cancer. While prostate cancer (which I've written about previously) is something more worrisome over the age of 50, testicular cancer has a higher risk of occurring in white men between the ages of 15 and 40.

Gay men don't always have gay doctors. Or aren't always out to their doctors. Or their straight doctors aren't always aware of certain risk factors.

For example, gay men who have contracted HPV (the human papilloma virus, less likely in these days of safer sex) anally, are at a higher risk for anal cancer. Just as women who have contracted HPV are at a higher risk for cervical cancer and get a Pap test regularly, gay men who have been on the receiving side of anal sex and have had HPV should certainly be getting a DRE from the doctor every year (certainly as part of a prostate exam) since this can help detect anal cancer as well. A more recent development is the "anal pap smear" which takes a swab to look for anal intraepithelial neoplasia. This was not something that was talking about much, but the death of Farrah Fawcett from anal cancer made it a little more top of mind — so if you're a bottom at risk, consider regular testing. 

You can get more information about the particular cancer risks faced by gay men from the American Cancer Society in a downloadable brochure.

As gay men, we spend a lot of time focused on HIV, and rightly so given how many we have lost, and how many continue to become infected. But there are other health issues that need to be spoken of. If the men of Macedonia can get over their squeamishness and having a doctor squeeze their balls, the gay men of the US can arm themselves with the right information to live healthier lives.

Just what was Colonel Mustard doing in the Library with the Candlestick?

Here's a clue, from the Begood Ad Agency in Italy, which is running a campaign for condoms and HIV prevention:

 

The campaign is drive to web print for a site that has an amazing array of condoms on sale: www.comodo.it

Sunday Morning Cartoon (sort of): Robot, Ninja & Gay Guy

How I have managed to miss this little internet oddity for several months I have no idea. The premise is explained very simply on their Facebook Fan Page:

"What happens when a gay guy needs new roommates and the only ones who respond to the Craigslist ad are a robot and a ninja? This..."

It's so geeky silly I just love it. Yes, I know it's not a cartoon, but it's about as cartoony as live action gets. And episode 5 takes place in a comic book store! The guys behind this have their own youtube channel with other regular video comedy postings, including a series called (and how I missed this is even more bizarre) Two Hot Guys in A Shower. Doesn't work as well for me. But what interests me is the way creativity and content continue to be democratized (though of course, the goal, you can be sure, for these guys is to "discovered" and make it big. So they can get their 8 million dollars a movie.

The fan page says that there are new episodes the 2nd and 4th Tuesday of every month. Since they started in August and we're in October, they aren't keeping to schedule otherwise there would be more than 5 episodes at this point. But I'm not arguing.

Gay men targeted by the NYPD and the ongoing violation of our rights.

When I came out in 1970, I started hanging out on Christopher Street, since I wasn’t really a drinker and didn’t like the bar scene. Most gay men cruising on Christopher Street at the time were guys who lived in the Village and they had a prop that helped them avoid being arrested for loitering or cruising. How did it work? Well, dogs being what they are, when they see each other, they want to nose each other out. And this would allow two men to stand on the street and talk to each other (please resist thinking that men are dogs!) and it would look perfectly natural. Because in fact it is perfectly natural, dog or no dog. Except when I would hang out on the street, dogless and not living in the village, the police in their cruisers would sometimes drive right up onto the sidewalk to intimidate me and my friends. I was never arrested.

However, amazingly, people are still being arrested by the police for cruising. Last Tuesday, Slate magazine reported that despite the fact that the NY Supreme Court ruled the “anti-cruising” laws unconstitutional in 1983, the police still target and arrest men for simply stopping to have a private conversation with another man (even if one of those men is a police officer loitering with the sole goal of entrapment). In fact, the article notes that since 1983 there have been between bail, fines and court fees, New York City has taken in over $300,000 from more than 15,000 cases.

Not many men have contested the charges, and no one has fought back far enough to make it a rights violation case where the city has to pay damages. Because you can be sure, once the city has to cough up $300,000 or more because they violated our rights the orders will come down to make this unconstitutional practice a relic of the 70s.

Meanwhile, let’s stop for a minute to remember the false arrests a few months back that were supposedly for soliciting at porn shops that garnered protest in the community and much ire vented at Speaker Christine Quinn (who after much noise did something about it). Clearly there is a pattern of harassment against individual gay men by the police. Now add into the mix the recent bias-attack in Hell’s Kitchen where the police did not arrest an attacker. This became a media issue because one of the men attacked is a radio host, WPLJ DJ Blake Hayes. We don’t know how many gay men get shut down by the NYPD and don’t press it because they don’t have a channel to make the right noise (and consider too how many of us are ashamed that we have been attacked and are just grateful we’re not in the hospital.)

Let’s review. The NYPD has been:
1.    Arresting gay men for cruising
2.    Arresting gay men on trumped up charges of soliciting
3.    Dismissing bias attacks against gay men.

Pardon me, but while I am in favor of marriage equality, I’d like to know that my basic rights (and my physical safety) are being protected. And I think some gay rights groups in the city might need to focus some righteous anger in the direction of the NYPD. It's sounds like it's time for an old-style GAA Zap, bringing media attention to this whole sordid affair. And to call for some heads.

Getting Gay Nerd Street Cred: My Stamp Collection for U.N. Day

It’s U.N. Day this week, an international holiday observed for the most part only by schoolchildren and diplomats. And when I was a schoolchild in the 1960s, and optimism and idealism about the U.N. ran high, every October 24th, we’d sing the U.N. song:

United Nations on the march, with flags unfurled.
Together fight for victory, a free new world.

Back in the day when I believed the U.N. could save the world, I collected stamps. And so in honor of U.N. day (and in fact, the 20th through the 24th is U.N. week) I’m posting photos of my favorite U.N. first day of issue commemorative stamps.

The first two, in fact, aren’t really U.N. stamps — they’re a post office mistake. Because at the same time the USPS was honoring the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (thank you Eleanor Roosevelt!) they were also honoring John Muir (who well deserved the honor). However, my UN first day envelope has the John Muir stamp on it. Not worth much from a philately point of view, but interesting.

A couple of other favorites include two stamps, exactly the same, but different colors, for the UN Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space. There’s a different envelope for each color stamp. A fantasy boyfriend I spent several years with dedicated his life’s work to this cause, so when I see these stamps I think of him. For those of you who don't use the phrase fantasy boyfriend in this way, I mean it as someone I spent time with, fantasizing a relationship that was not there. Another word of that is self-delusion.

I remember when I was 4th grade and Dag Hammarskjold was killed in a plane crash (and clearly shot down). It was, as I say, an idealistic time, and Hammarskjold was much admired in the world. So he was beatified almost immediately (not by the church of course, I mean in the media). And there were stamps commemorating his life for several years in a row. It was only after I had come out in college that I learned Hammarskjold was gay. And I wondered how his sexuality influenced his pursuit of peace. And what he would have thought of the modern gay rights movement had he lived.

Then there are the stamps honoring the IMF and IBRD. The International Bank of Reconstruction and Development was founded during WWII as a  way of financing the rebuilding of Europe and Japan after the war. It’s a division of the IMF, which was founded under the auspices of the U.N. during the war (when the U.N. was a nascent organization itself).

The mission of the IMF is to “foster global monetary cooperation, secure financial stability, facilitate international trade, promote high employment and sustainable economic growth, and reduce poverty." Unfortunately, we all know the IMF has used its resources to support military dictatorships over democratically elected governments, and does so to this day in Sudan and Syria. Hammarskjold would be appalled I am sure. Nice stamps though. And they were issued as part of the ideals of another age. Not to totally dis the U.N. — I know much important work is done there, from HIV prevention education in SE Asia to UNICEF rescuing child soldiers (Ishmael Beah, adopted son of my friend and teacher Laura Simms is one of those former soldiers). So while I may not feel positively about many things that are happening over on 42nd Street at the East River, I am glad I live in a world where the U.N. exists.

Today I go to the USPS and there are stamps of the Simpsons. In a weird way, the Simpsons is a lot more honest than the IMF. So no arguments from me.

Obama's HRC Speech and the National Equality March — Words Vs. Deeds

Over at Joe. My. God. today JJ quoted Dan Savage on the endless blathery speeches given at the National Equality March:

"People don't go to demonstrations or marches to be talked to death, they don't go to be harangued, they don't go to listen—God forbid—to poetry. They show up because they want to do something, they want to do something themselves, they want to take symbolic action. Part of what made ACT-UP so successful back before it was overrun by the same sorts of fuckwits and yahoos who ran yesterday's rally and march was that ACT-UP didn't waste your time."

Savages words have generated a very heated discussion in the comments section. But of course, the blathery speeches weren't only given on the Mall. There was Obama's speech, which actually referenced an activist who didn't go in much for speeches — Morty Manford. Obama talked about Morty in passing as part of the story of his mother co--founding PFLAG. In an article today in the L.A. Times, David Ehrenstein writes about Morty and his history in NYC in GAA, which was the spiritual father of Act-Up, and where the "zap" — a political action meant to generate publicity and public support by pushing the forces of bigotry to show themselves in all their ugliness — was first developed.

Ehrenstein writes of the GAA Media Committee, of which he was a member with Vito Russo, Morty and others:

"It was our job to make sure the local newspapers and pre-cable television covered our protest demonstrations, which we called zaps. Getting coverage was no easy task in an era when the New York Times, under Abe Rosenthal, avoided homosexual issues like the plague.

Morty proved to be well-suited to fighting. In 1968, he had helped found Gay People at Columbia University, one of the nation's first gay campus groups. In 1972, he took on Michael Maye, president of New York City's Uniformed Firefighters Assn., who was accused of beating Morty during a GAA zap of the Inner Circle -- New York City big shots who got together for homophobic skits and partying. Several city officials testified that Maye threw Morty down an escalator, then kicked and stomped him. Maye was acquitted, but the gay-rights law the GAA wanted the muckety-mucks to pass was signed soon afterward."

Not everyone is willing to get stomped. That's the risk of taking non-violent and theatrical protest. But as Ghandi and King proved, it takes time, but it works. It takes the moral high ground. Ehrenstein's point is that had Morty been in the room he would have interrupted Obama with cries of "WHEN?" He would have demanded specific action, because the time for words is past. It's time for action.

GAA understood this. Act-Up understood this. The organizers of the Equality March? They understood neither the lessons of GAA and Act-Up or the lessons of Harvey Milk: Get attention for the cause in a way that exposes the hate and bigotry of the opposition, and organize at the grass roots level in communities to win elections. There was a lot of talk from NEM about going home to do just that — no one needed to go to DC for this, the groups are there. This was I believe truly wasted effort at a time when if just 10% of these people had gone to MAINE to defend marriage equality it would make a real difference.

And on that subject of organizing on the community level. In the last year I have seen the same young men on the street on the UWS soliciting funds for HRC. They've stopped soliciting me though because I let them know not only my opinions of HRC, but also of them asking people on the UWS for support. I mean, next to Berkeley, this is about as liberal as it gets in the United States. They should be on the street in Astoria. Or in the district of Ruben Diaz in the Bronx. This is preaching to the converted. And a waste of time. But that is HRC. And that's my Monday morning queer rights grumbling.

Mr. Sub and Mr. Slave: Gay representation and homophobia in advertising?

I had never heard of the Canadian sandwich chain, Mr. Sub. But my first thought was a kind of teenaged snicker at the name, so reminiscent of the Mr. Slave character in South Park. Perhaps that’s why they felt the need to run the following ad — which led to complaints of homophobia and the ad agency that created the spot getting fired:


Do you think this was homophobic? Boston’s queer paper Edge noted that the spot was in some ways similar to a British commercial for Heinz that goes further than most American television in showing a butcher kissing his partner — another man who is leaving for his day of work at the office. That spot was pulled because the Brits are too homophobic to see such a thing. The Mr. Sub spot however, treats the “coming out” announcement at the family dinner, something that is most often fraught with fear, as a joke. And it not only makes light of the fears of any queer folk in coming out to the family, it makes light of a family’s response — since when it is a husband or wife with children, the emotional ramifications are nothing to be laughed at. There is real suffering all around. And that’s where I object to this spot — it makes light of emotional suffering of people, gay and straight. Adults and children.

When an agency does this, they think they’re being edgy. And in today’s market, agencies work hard to have their client’s message stand out, be heard, be talked about. Of course, you want this to be related to the product message, and in a good way. Creative people at agencies struggle with what is edgy and what is tasteless. I actually have some work in my portfolio that some people find completely tasteless and others love for what they say as an edgy yet relevant message. I often wonder if I should take that work out. So I understand this struggle from the inside of the business.

However, to fire the agency when in fact it was the client who gave the go ahead to make the spot is shifting blame where it doesn’t belong. An agency shows a client at least 3 storyboards for every commercial that actually gets made. With a large company like Mr. Sub all advertising goes through a corporate hierarchy of decision makers. It is certainly just as much the fault of the Chief Marketing Officer at Mr. Sub as it is anyone at the agency that this spot was made and ran. But of course, an agency is always the whipping boy when something goes wrong. Which makes the people who work at agencies the real masochists — Mr. Sub and Mr. Slave indeed!