Those interested in exhibitionism might want to check out an old Village Voice column I wrote called “USC’s Topless Professor.” I love that the Voice let me run the topless photos on their website. Yes, I miss writing that column very much but am proud of what I did with it.

Blaine had no intention of showing her tits to the over 100,000 people who’ve viewed them, but now that they’re public, she’s keeping the photos up to make a statement. “The fact that I can embrace my unmutilated breasts, and eroticize and enjoy them, is an act of resistance against patriarchy. That’s something I’ve achieved; it wasn’t handed to me and has taken a lot of work,” she says. Fittingly, Blaine’s at work on a book called Why I Won’t Get Breast Implants But You Might Want To.

USC has thus far stayed out of the fray, and the untenured Blaine does not expect to hear from the school. According to its website, “The University will not be held responsible for the content of personal Web pages. Personal Web pages shall not imply that they are representing or speaking on behalf of the University.” Perhaps Blaine will fare better than other women in similar positions, among them a Chicago Cubs ball girl fired after posing for Playboy and Marcie Betts, a corrections officer canned for baring all on alt-porn site Burning Angel prior to her employment (though Betts later won a legal ruling requiring her reinstatement with restitution of full pay and benefits).

Blaine argues vociferously in favor of her right to a public online life. “My website is not a professional venue of mine; it’s not linked to my teaching at USC. I’ve never assigned my site to students. I’ve never told them to go look and find images of me. It’s not been brought into my teaching at all,” she states. Fifty-one students who filled out surveys about Blaine’s teaching gave her high marks in all areas, offering praise such as “Blaine is without a doubt the most exhilarating whirlwind of feminist, socially conscious thinking I have experienced thus far at this institution.”

Hand sanitizer,
Tissues on the wall, Seattle’s
own Lusty Lady.

Usually the good folks at Seattle’s Lusty Lady would be ecstatic when Santa Claus drops in.

But Saturday afternoon, when about 200 giddy Santas stormed the lobby, Saint Nick’s “Ho, ho, ho,” left the staff thinking “Oh, no, no, no!”

The Santas made a beeline to private booths, crowding in three and four deep for a peep show. A chorus of “My, oh my!” and gasps and giggles sounded as the posse in red inhaled the carnal delights.

“Hey, is that beer?” a Lusty Lady attendant barked to one of the Santas chugging merrily in the hallway. “You can’t have that in here!”

His fellow Santas immediately chided him with mock rage: “Bad Santa! Bad Santa! Bad Santa!”

Welcome to the wild and wacky world of “Santarchy” — “Santa” plus “anarchy” — which could be described as equal parts pub crawl, equal parts holiday celebration and a whole lot of fun.

Going from location to location, the annual event in Seattle heightens the merriment with an element of stealth about where the group is heading and when.

Read more here. 

 Click to enlarge, get it, enlarge! hahaha

for alice.mp3

this is a track i wrote based completely on samples from alice coltrane’s work. i have been in love with her music since one of her sons turned me on to it at a party many years ago in san francisco. an old girlfriend of mine, polywog, was djing her first gig at a private lusty lady party downtown. a really nice cat approached me (we were the only black guys there…) and we got to chatting. i mentioned how i’d just gone to the church of john coltrane in sf for the first time. “that’s my dad’s church,” he told me. wild. the synchronicities of everyday meetings have been dictating my life path for years now.

always listen to your intuitions. even if you don’t follow their suggestions it’s a good idea to pay attention to their prodding. somewhere in our minds/brains a lot of instantaneous processing is taking place. what could have once been explained as the silent voice of the gods/ancestors was probably just some salient aspect of our own neural firings…

hope you enjoy the track.

Holly and I took a little vacation last week.

We had our getaway all planed out, but we still hadn’t settled on a destination, even though my mother-in-law had arrived and it was the morning we were supposed to leave. I wasn’t looking forward to the long drive but had been lobbying half-heartedly for somewhere in Oregon, perhaps Ashland or somewhere along the coast. Holly suggested a few of our past haunts: Portland, or north to British Columbia. We even considered a little college town just before the Canadian boarder.

With the clock ticking, we finally settled on Seattle, which sounds like desperation but ended up feeling like a whole new town without the kids. We saw a show at the Paramount (Phantom of the Opera), did a reading at Eliott Bay Book Company and saw an exhibit at a local art school. Plus lots of good food and long walks.

I remember my mom and dad taking a trip on their own when I was about 7 or 8. When they got back, I asked Mom if she missed us. I fully expected her to tell me how badly she missed me and all my siblings, but instead she just looked at me for what seemed like a very long time.

Finally she said, “Yeah. I missed you.” I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, but I couldn’t imagine her enjoying herself on her own. I completely understand that long silence now.

Here is Holly on the Harbor steps. I love those posts on the left, which somehow make the picture.

Me hanging out at the Lusty Lady. Rome may be burning, but the Lady still has a sense of humor.