Well well well.
Another boring ol' blog post for youse guys.
Is it possible to be too real, too frank, too honest? I wouldn't know.
I've been accused of being many things, but being "too real"... never.
The other night I was invited to a bachelor party at a strip club. If I'd been given some time to think about it, I probably would've gone along. I didn't. I'm not a strip club type of guy. My friend hassled me over the phone about it; pleading with me, trying to bargain with me, finally getting very cross and insulting me. He implied that I'm both anti-social and afraid of women.
He demanded an explanation, there was no point wasting my time giving him one.
The thing is, I get no thrill out of any of it. I can have fun at an insurance seminar. In fact - I've crashed a few for the free refreshments and inevitable insurance seminar games. But the strip club, it's just too... I don't know... sad. Notice I didn't say pathetic, that's over-analyzing. It's sad in the way most zoos are sad. And oddly enough, I enjoy zoos.
I used to be a drama geek in highschool, and I have a few hundred hours experience on stage as an amateur musician. I'm familiar with the psychology of performance. When at the strip club, rather than gawk at the titties, I normally lose myself in studying the strippers' faces; trying to fathom the emotions playing out there (that shit doesn't fly with the strippers).
Looking for humanity in a place devoid of humanity usually leads to trouble. Trying to elucidate on the humanity of strippers probably isn't "punk". Actually finding humanity is an altogether different story; being human is different than being humane. Inequity is human, sympathy is humane. And the strip club is fun for everyone. Because humanity has nothing to do with a good time.
Another boring ol' blog post for youse guys.
Is it possible to be too real, too frank, too honest? I wouldn't know.
I've been accused of being many things, but being "too real"... never.
The other night I was invited to a bachelor party at a strip club. If I'd been given some time to think about it, I probably would've gone along. I didn't. I'm not a strip club type of guy. My friend hassled me over the phone about it; pleading with me, trying to bargain with me, finally getting very cross and insulting me. He implied that I'm both anti-social and afraid of women.
He demanded an explanation, there was no point wasting my time giving him one.
The thing is, I get no thrill out of any of it. I can have fun at an insurance seminar. In fact - I've crashed a few for the free refreshments and inevitable insurance seminar games. But the strip club, it's just too... I don't know... sad. Notice I didn't say pathetic, that's over-analyzing. It's sad in the way most zoos are sad. And oddly enough, I enjoy zoos.
I used to be a drama geek in highschool, and I have a few hundred hours experience on stage as an amateur musician. I'm familiar with the psychology of performance. When at the strip club, rather than gawk at the titties, I normally lose myself in studying the strippers' faces; trying to fathom the emotions playing out there (that shit doesn't fly with the strippers).
Looking for humanity in a place devoid of humanity usually leads to trouble. Trying to elucidate on the humanity of strippers probably isn't "punk". Actually finding humanity is an altogether different story; being human is different than being humane. Inequity is human, sympathy is humane. And the strip club is fun for everyone. Because humanity has nothing to do with a good time.