Better Than Nothing
By Steve Prince
“Alex, where the hell are you?”
I was talking to Alex’s answering machine and I was annoyed. Hmm, I’ll try Troy.
“Troy,” I pleaded, disappointed that I got his voicemail as well, “give me a call or just go ahead and meet me at Roosterfish.”
I knew he would come, well… maybe. OK, maybe he probably wouldn’t, but I wanted to go out. Correction. I was keyed up. I wanted to mess around with a boy and then not remember his name the next day.
Earlier that night I had been at a Culver City restaurant meeting some school friends for dinner. After a couple of glasses of wine, the group’s conversation began to revolve more and more around sex. One of the girls who was there didn’t know a lot of gay men, so she asked me tons of specific questions. Things like, “How do you know who is the top?” and “Do guys give oral better than girls?”—questions gay guys usually seem to get. I answered them appreciatively; I was glad she was asking. It’s always better to be informed than ignorant, however all this talk of sex made me… well… want it.
Let’s be honest, it had only been a week since I got Marlon’s oh-so-subtle text. True, Marlon and I had not dated for that long; okay let’s be more honest, we really didn’t even date per se. However, I did put some more emotional time towards him then I had towards any other guy lately. My ego was still a little bruised, and I just needed to be validated. And that meant making out with someone shamelessly at a bar, preferably where others could see and think, “Wow! He’s still got it.” Yes, I know no one actually thinks that. I can only imagine that the bar patrons’ inner dialogue is more like, “That’s real slutty and I don’t want to see it.” Thankfully, this was my inner fantasy so I imagined whatever I liked, thank you very much.
As the time crept towards 10pm, my school friends started dispersing. I, on the other hand, felt as if I was just getting revved up. Ten o’clock was early for a Thursday night. That’s when I decided to call Alex and Troy on the way to the bar. I knew that the Roosterfish was by their homes and I was hoping that the fact I was actually on the Westside (which was a rarity) would encourage them to go out even more.
Minutes later, I pulled up in front of the bar and parked. A band of smokers looked at me lazily as I got out of my car, as if daring me to enter.
In the first picture above, photographer Dylan Rosser (right) holds his debut book, X-posed, standing next to one of his beautiful models, Rob, standing naked in the picture below with Erik. QC was lucky enough to catch up with internationally renowned male photographer, Dylan Rosser this last week at the New York City launch party for his debut book, X-posed. Above is a pic of the photographer holding his book alongside one of his breathtaking models (shown naked below). The party was quite an international affair in the upstairs private room of The Ritz bar; lots of handsome men with accents from around the world, some shirtless waiters and guests, and drink specials to keep everyone in high spirits. We met and spoke with Dylan who was nice enough to give QC an autographed copy of his debut work. And now, you have a chance to win Dylan Rosser’s signed copy of X-posed for your very own viewing pleasure! All you have to do is familiarize yourself some of Dylan’s hot, eye-popping photos via his website or via an image search and leave a compliment for him in our comments section. It needn’t be a comprehensive critique or some Shakespearean declaration, just a thoughtful, sincere compliment about his work. We’ll leave this post open for comments for one week (that is, the contest ends October 22nd). Then, we’ll ask Dylan himself which comment speaks the most to him. Whoever’s comment he chooses will win the book! The winning comment will top an upcoming QCA review of X-posed along with an interview with the artist himself, so be sure to check back for that. It’s a fun contest to support a gay artist and his models. Whether you know Rosser’s work or not, going through his images is a reward in itself. We bet you’ll have lots of complimentary things to say, if you can also type one-handed. Good luck, everyone!
Steve Prince met Mason in The Dark Knight and questioned his intentions in A Date? Now Steve finally gets to the “bottom” of this whole Marlon situation. A Happy Ending
By Steve Prince
I’m not accustomed to change. I’m not opposed to it, but when you’ve been single for as long as I have, one gets used to their own routine. Hence, I was trying this dating thing, I really was, but not without difficulty. Why was being open and talkative during a date scarier than hooking up with a guy at a bar? Opening up my thoughts to possibly being interested in someone felt like an intrusion on my already hectic schedule. My life was full already; did I really need anyone else in it? Oh god, I’m such a mess.
Ironically, as all my neurotic thoughts raced through my head I found myself at a loss for words. The date with Marlon was so confusing because I had no idea where it was going. All right, maybe I have some control issues too. Maybe…
Still, what was supposed to be a date of wine tasting had become a cheap drink at a dive tiki bar in North Hollywood. Was this night out with a handsome man I thought I wanted to date now going to be just a fuck?
I just didn’t get it, and my pessimistic thoughts about dating began to seep in my head like water under a doorway. Be open to the experience. Don’t be so judgmental.
I kept repeating Alex’s advice over and over in my head. No Steve! Alex’s words echoed in my temples. If I talked myself out of this, he would kill me, and for good reason. I could hear Alex say “Everyone has doubts, just be positive. Give Seal a chance. Remember, you are his Heidi Klum!” I am only grateful that I know Alex bolsters my ego, not because he wants me to fail, but because he knows I am capable of doing it.
I lazily twirled my straw in my Mai Tai and smiled at the chubby girl in the booth across from me. She was sitting alone and I think she thought I was alone too. She smiled back appreciatively. I was waiting for Marlon to get back from the bathroom, but she looked like she was just waiting. She looked bored, but then I realized that I probably looked half-conscious as well. I had to look awful, my elbow propped on the table, chin resting on my palm. Boy, I must be a real fun date.
If you want the truth, I wasn’t bored. I was indifferent. I thought I had made a concentrated effort to be clear with Marlon. If you looked at my dating past, you’d see that I usually put too much preference on what the other person thought of me rather than what I thought of him. This time, I wouldn’t let myself think that, and I thought that I made it perfectly clear that I was interested in Marlon. I didn’t want to play games, so I decided directness was best.
But what do you say when someone says, “Hopefully, we’ll be leaving here soon,” while he brushes your thigh? I decided to wait on Marlon’s next move.
There’s something both erotic and menacing about Mikel Marton’s Intimate Machinery. The contrast between tender human flesh and hard-edged computer parts evoke the dichotomies of organic and artificial, man and machine, warm and cold, analog and digital. In this age of increasing computerization, where we the line between the two is vanishing, the cybernetic age seems not too far off. What this means for sex and human relationships reaches the furthest limits of the imagination.
Mikel Marton is a renowned photographer who does some period work. You can see more of Mikel Marton’s work at his personal site and his blog.
The boys at Exterface just won’t stop! After coming out two weeks ago with Flamme, the gay French photographic duo have released their latest cinematic photo series, The Cosmo Show. The Cosmo Showfeatures model Ludovic Canot putting on a star-spangled show of sorts that is a cross between a photo shoot, a striptease, a stage show, a pop-fueled sex dream, and a steamy cinematic sequence. They boys play around with color and typography as well as a bit of censorship. Maybe by hiding some of the model’s naughty bits, they’re trying to increase the titillation, the fantasy, or your imagination. Exterface has been on QueerClick before. If you haven’t seen their work, some past and similarly modest favorites include Vertigo, Two Hearts, and La Delectation. But their site also has some hard men swinging their fat, uncut dongs (Flamingo, Playgirl, and SeaSexSun, are three scorching instances).
Exterface previously on QC: QCA Art: Exterface’s Ether QCA Art: Sky Walker Francois Sagat in Muse
When E. Patrick Johnson started recording people’s experiences about being black and gay in the South, he hit some roadblocks. Some people canceled their interviews. Others spoke but were reticent. With persistence, he collected tales from every Southern state—enough material to fill his new 570-page book, Sweet Tea: Black Gay Men of the South. The 41-year-old Northwestern University professor of African-American studies shared some thoughts about his interview subjects and his years in the south. On expectations: “I didn’t expect younger narrators to be as conservative about what they talked about. I expected older narrators to not be as forthcoming, but that was not the case. The older men seemed to sort of just put it out there. But the younger men, some of them, kind of held back and didn’t share as much. … Some of the richest interviews I had were with men, say, 50 and older, who shared these wonderful stories about growing up in the South and finding these networks of other gay folk or being in a relationship for 20, 30, 40 years.” On preconceptions: “One of them is that every gay person in the South is repressed and not open about their sexuality, when that is not true. Anyone who reads the chapter on sex will discover that people are doing their thing.” On being Southern and gay: “It was interesting to hear people be very articulate about how those two things come together and how they reconcile all of what that means—for instance, men who understand the South as the Bible Belt but who also, as they came into their sexuality, started to develop what they would call a personal relationship with God, as opposed to a personal relationship with a church. … For some people, especially people who aren’t particularly religious or who live in urban areas — who don’t understand why you would go to a place where the preacher or some of the congregants are going to say homophobic things—they don’t understand that if you are raised around the church from the time that you are in the womb, you can’t necessarily just cut that part of your life off just because you start to come into your sexuality, because despite the homophobia, there’s also lots of encouragement and nurturing that happens in the church.”
Know a gay artist? Tell QCA!
The film, Tarnation both ends and starts with a Max Ehrmann poem entitled, Desiderata. Read it. It’s chock full of good advice. Tarnation, is an autobiographical documentary created by Jonathan Caouette that focuses on his adolescent and young adult relationship with his beautiful, but mentally-damaged mother, Renee LeBlanc. The most extraordinary thing 88-minute long film is that it’s composed of over 20 years from hundreds of hours of old Super 8 footage, VHS videotape, photographs and answering machine messages. From a very early age, Caouette until today, the actor/director basically set to recording himself and everyone around him at all times. And the movie incorporates a great deal of that footage in a rapid-edit breakneck speed that is both overwhelming, amazing, and illustrative of the constant onslaught of trauma and mental breakdown facing Caouette’s family throughout his life. The film was initially made for a total budget of $218.32, using free iMovie software on a Macintosh computer. As an early supporter, film critic Roger Ebert notes, $400,000 more was eventually spent by the distributor on sound, print, score and music/clip clearances to bring the film to theaters. The film went on to win awards including Best Documentary from the National Society of Film Critics, the Independent Spirits, the Gotham Awards, and the LA and London International Film Festivals. Read more about Caouette and see a brief clip of the film, after the jump!
A Date?
By Steve Prince
I looked at the text again just to make sure I didn’t get the time wrong. I’ll pick you up on around 7. Can’t wait.
I still had an hour to get ready. Even though I had looked at Marlon’s text three times in the last two hours, my mind was too scattered to remember what time he was coming to pick me up. Can’t wait.
I smiled. I hope he was excited as I was. Or maybe I was too excited?
“Look at you,” my roommate James said as he walked by my bathroom.
“What?” I asked trying to look as unexcited as possible.
“You’re nervous aren’t you?” he asked.
“No!” I denied a little too much. I was a little nervous. Okay, I was very nervous.
“You’re so full of shit,” James said with a laugh. “The last time you were this excited was when you found out John Stamos got divorced. Look at you, just twittering away like a bird.”
I looked at him incredulously.
“Well,” I said trying to admit as little as possible, “you of all people know, that a fine Southern lady makes a good first impression.”
I knew James would let up when I said this. We both had been roommates so long that nothing really got past one another. I also knew that being from South Carolina, James would agree on the importance of impressions in the South culture.
He looked at me knowingly as he sipped his Sapphire and tonic.
“Can’t argue with that”, he said flatly. He paused as if reminiscing a found memory, “Our Momma’s knew how to raise queer little boys.”
“Agreed,” I said walking into my bedroom. James went into the living room to watch TV.
Truth be known—I was very excited. It had been a long time since I had been on a date. Like years. Oh, I had sex and fooled around, but Marlon was the first guy in a while I had connected with. Truthfully, I was surprised that he even called a couple of days after meeting him at the wine tasting. Guys don’t usually call.
“Steve,” his message said, “Man, I loved talking to you the other night. Give me a call when you can; I gotta take you out.”
Spiders’ legs brushing against naked skin…
Unexplainable noises heard at night in a dark bedroom…
A big empty house where you feel a presence…
A hypodermic needle getting closer and closer…
A dead thing trapped in a bottle of formaldehyde…
A huge growling dog, baring its teeth and staring…
So many scary moments we have experienced at some point in our lives – like the creators of this journey straight to the land of fear. Six of the worlds hottest graphic artists and cartoonists have breathed life into their nightmares, bleeding away color to retain the starkness of light and the pitch black of shadows. Their intertwined stories make up an unprecedented epic where phobias, disgust and nightmares come to life and reveal Fear at its most naked and intense.
Check out the official website.
The above is a trailer for an excellent film about gay musician Arthur Russell entitled, Wild Combinations – A Portrait of Arthur Russell. Wild Combination is a film about gay American cellist, composer, singer, and disco artist, Charles Arthur Russell Jr. Russell’s use of unlikely pairings of sounds helped establish himself as a forerunner of modern music. He also dabbled in disco, for which he is perhaps best known, but also combined orchestral instruments with pop-stylings following in the vein of the Beatles, punk rock, and even some Indian and African music (incorporating drums, mantras, and refrains into his tunes). His vocals reveal a gentle, graceful folk quality both transcendent and painful that fall somewhere between lullabies and art songs. In his latter days, he eventually pioneered “echo music,” songs whose instrumentation and distorted vocals evoke the acoustics of large spaces, caverns, and skies, surely influenced by his rural upbringing and Buddhist spirituality. Russell was born in Oskaloosa, Iowa in 1952. Before moving to New York in 1973 at the age of 22, he had lived in a Buddhist commune and studied Indian music in California. His early years in the city included a stay with Allen Ginsberg, an East Village address shared by punk maestro Richard Hell, and collaborations with Philip Glass and John Cage. He ran with filmmakers, painters, performance artists. During his own lifetime, Russell somewhat avoided the limelight, releasing his albums under different pseudonyms and sabotaging his creative collaborations by being unable to relinquish control. Russell died of AIDS on April 4, 1992, at the age of 40. In an April 28 column, Kyle Gann of The Village Voice wrote: “His recent performances had been so infrequent due to illness, his songs were so personal, that it seems as though he simply vanished into his music.” His estate rests in the hands of his then-boyfriend. Russell was prolific, but was also notorious for leaving songs unfinished and continually revising his music. Musician and producer Ernie Brooks said that Russell “never arrived at a completed version of anything,” while Peter Gordon stated, “his quest wasn’t really to do a finished product but more to do with exploring his different ways of working musically.” He left behind more than 1,000 tapes when he died, 40 of them different mixes of one song. The film is really worth seeing, and if you’ve never heard him, do yourself the favor of listening to a few of his songs right after the jump…
Homosexuality is catching on in a quiet American suburb. Is it natural? Is it a choice? Or is it something more insidious. No one’s sure, but one guy (possibly the last straight man on Earth) is on the run. The short film above is from a comedy group FDN Films. We’re sure that some of you will find the depiction of gays as zombies and the resulting bashings offensive, but all seriousness aside, the film is a funny take on the homosexual menace and zombie films. In related news, Otto or Up With Dead People a film about a gay zombie. Otto, the titular zombie, wakes up with amnesia and an aversion to eating human flesh. He wanders aimlessly around Berlin for a while before being discovered by a director who wants his help finishing an epic political-porno-zombie movie. As Otto waits for his close-up, he finally remembers his old boyfriend and decides to seek him out, with disastrous results. The film’s directed by cinematic provocateur Bruce LaBruce and hasn’t gotten great press. But check out the trailer below—the film looks as bloody as it does hot.
For all you musical lovers, here’s a short video of committed Obama supporters singing “One Day More!” from the epic musical, Les Miserables. The singing is emphatic and there’s even a small cameo by shoddy John McCain and Sarah Palin look-alikes. Enjoy!
Continuing his attempt to enjoy a night of wine without hooking up, Mr. Prince meets a tall, handsome stranger. (Read Part I: The Dark Knight) Come As You Are
By Steve Prince
“Hi, I’m Marlon.”
Our glasses clinked as we toasted and we both took a sip of our wine. Greedily the night breeze lapped at the wet wine on my lips.
“I’m Steve,” I said with a smirk. I cradled my wine glass in my hands as a chill came over the rooftop. I smiled a somewhat fake smile. As cute as this man was, I just wasn’t in the mood to meet someone else and go through all the motions of getting to know someone. I immediately heard Alex’s voice in my head, “Stevie, keep yourself open and be positive!” All right, I was going to try.
“Now, tell me,” Marlon leaned in, “why I have been to three of these socials and never seen a sweet thang like you?”
Jeezus. You really think that macho attitude is going to work with me? You really think that you can compliment me while gazing at me with those deep brown eyes hooded by those long eyelashes, framed by that strong square face that sits on those broad squared shoulders? You really think that I’m that gullible?
Well… I am.
I giggled. Yes, you heard me. I audibly giggled like a twelve year-old girl. It was a small giggle but still loud enough that Marlon heard it. Thank God he smiled and chuckled along with me.
“Well,” I said trying to regain my cynicism, “my friend dragged me here. If it wasn’t for the free wine, I’d be off like a prom dress.”
He laughed—not a small, placating laugh—but a deep hearty laugh that was warm and soulful. I smiled—a real smile.
I stopped leaning on the rail and I turned to look at him or (correction) to look up to him. I never really think of myself as tall—I’m six feet—but I guess I am somewhat tall, because I never notice myself looking down at someone. However, when someone is taller than me, I’m a bit surprised. Marlon was at least 6’2″; very attractive to me.
Marlon looked at me and paused. “Now, I know you didn’t hear that in California. Where are you from?”
“I’m from Oklahoma,” I said, and maybe I turned on a bit of the accent… maybe. It’s totally shameless, but sometimes guys go crazy over the accent.
“Well, there ya go. I love me a fellow Southern boy,” he said softly. “I’m from Alabama.”
Okay, so first he’s 6’2″ and he’s from the South. This is starting to be too much. Next, he’s going to tell me that he’s the president of all fraternities in the United States or something like that.
“Well, here’s to home,” I said as we toasted. We both paused to drink. “So what brought you out here?” I asked.
He swallowed his wine. “I was in the Air Force.”
I almost dropped my glass. I grabbed onto the railing for support. Thank goodness the wind had died down or I think I would have been blown over. Let’s be honest—I think my ass lips twittered like an Olympic diver waiting to jump.
“Oh,” I said trying to look calm. “What did you do in the service?” Please say a pilot. Please say a pilot. Please say a pilot.
Move over, Brokeback Mountain. The photographic geniuses at Exterface make all your Wild West dreams come true with their latest creation, Flamme. This sensual and scintillating photoset has a hairy ranch hand, Jordan, roping and wrangling his way out of his cowboy getup into our hearts. Sweet Lord, you can almost feel his hairy chest and smell his hand-rolled cigarette. We wouldn’t mind helping him scrub up after a hard day’s work… giddy up! Exterface has been on QueerClick before. If you haven’t seen their work, some past and similarly modest favorites include Vertigo, Two Hearts, and La Delectation. But their site also has some hard men swinging their fat, uncut dongs (Flamingo, Playgirl, and SeaSexSun, are three scorching instances).
Exterface previously on QC: QCA Art: Exterface’s Ether QCA Art: Sky Walker Francois Sagat in Muse
After a recent QCA Art on the Bad Behaviour 2008 calendar, a few comments mentioned the photography of Pierre Et Gilles, a gay French couple that make glittery photographs filled with myth, camp and homoeroticism. Since the mid-1970s when these two handsome men met, fell in love and began making art together, they’ve produced a consistently sensuous body of work that’s an unabashed mix of commercial and high art, glamour, poetry and homoeroticism. In their work, the latter often directly refers to the sexiness of mythic and religious iconography, like an artful prayer card with a colorful illustration of a loin-clothed Jesus writhing languorously on the cross. They’re also quite aware of the frisson of pleasure that comes from the sight of celebrity in a provocative pose; they count Catherine Deneuve, Iggy Pop, Nina Hagen, Yves Saint-Laurent and porn legend Jeff Stryker among their subjects. For thirty years, Pierre has been taking photographs and Gilles retouching them with paint. In contrast with the somewhat smooth quality of contemporary photography, the duo has invented a unique style and technique that extols an exuberant and ornamental material and glorifies the models, transforming them into timeless icons. You can read more about the artistshere, here, and here. There’s also more about the lover-artists and more of their delicious photos after the jump!
Steve Prince is trying to keep an open mind when it comes to not hooking up. Good thing there’s wine, because it ain’t a-workin’. The Dark Knight
By Steve Prince
“Come on, Stevie! It will be so much fun!”
Alex was adorable and there was a reason he was a successful attorney—he was very persuasive. He looked up at me with his long eyelashes and clear, bright eyes.
“I dunno,” I mumbled. “I don’t think there will be anyone there I have anything in common with.”
“Noooooooo,” Alex said, his voice rising two octaves. “Look, if you are going to go, there might be other guys just like you who are going too.”
Hmmm. Maybe he had a point. As optimistic as I try to be, sometimes I suspect the worst in things—especially when it comes to meeting guys. For months now, Alex had been trying to get me to go to this Southern California networking thing for GLBT professionals. I mean, it seemed so corny. Wasn’t this just another way just to hook up with guys? Why go through the trouble of going to a group to get laid, when I could just go out to bar.
“Aaaaand,” Alex added. “There will probably be guys like myself there too. And you love me.”
I grinned. I was starting to crack and Alex knew it. He prodded me with his hand and smiled. “What would Oprah say, Mr. Prince?” he teased. “Expand yourself.” Damn you, Alex! Why was he so convincing in his cute lil’ Columbian accent? And the Oprah card was a low blow. He knew I loved that bitch. He cocked his head and looked at me knowingly.
“Oh alright,” I spat out.
Alex threw his arms up in the air and hugged me. “Yeeeeaaaaahhhh,” he said excitedly.
Alex and I continued our lunch and an hour later we both headed back to our respective offices. I don’t know why I was so down about going to this social thing. Alex was right; maybe there would be guys like me and my friends there. I’m not gonna lie—I was kind of tired of just having sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong… Momma loves some butt sex, but the last time I was actually in a relationship was….
Hmmm, hold on I can remember this. Oh, it was…
Huh? I mean there was that time—wait not really. Well, it was…
*crickets chirping*
