Shirt Lifters Of The World

Ash Flanders treads the boards of a gay boat cruise and finds drugs, faux-mos and that people’s tolerance for unsolicited negative energy is lower at sea.

I have always been curious about gay cruises. Are they really the floating punch line I’ve always imagined? A bunch of queens screaming “all hands on dick” and making endless seamen puns? Is the standard greeting ‘Hello Sailor’? Do older gay men dream of ‘dropping anchor’ in a young man’s ‘friendly port’? And most importantly, are boat shoes finally a fashion ‘do’? Recently I learnt the answers to all these questions and many more when a friend of mine guilted me into going on a big homosexual boat. (And for the record the answers are: no, yes, yes, no and sadly… still no)

“What name?” This was the perky voice of an equally perky blonde girl as we approached the SS Analingus.

“Why do you need to know my name? What’s it for?!” This is a perfect example of me trying to relax and have a fun time. As you can see, I’m very good at it. As it turned out, she needed my name for the sticky-label we were all instructed to wear. Below the name were two boxes to choose from: gay or straight.

Now call me old-fashioned, but what the hell is a straight box doing on my gay cruise?

I looked around at my fellow passengers and realised that this ‘gay’ cruise was not going to be a Nathan-Lane-singing-Gypsy-at-the-Tony-Awards kind of gay, but more a Home-and-Away-brief-lesbian-storyline kind of gay. It would be Gay-lite. The same gay taste without the nasty sodomy. I told the girl my name – Punky Brewster (which she spelled WRONG) – and made sure she ticked ‘gay’. If there had been a box titled ‘I’m actually gay. No. Really. I sleep with men’ I would have made sure she ticked that one instead.

As soon as I boarded the ship I knew I had made a mistake. I was surrounded by pretty young ‘bois’ and ‘grrrls’ in their hipster best. Thin male models with ironic moustaches rough-housed with each other while their hawt girlfriends chewed gum and watched – lovesick eyes peering out under a playful sailor’s hat. I was about to say something to my friend’s housemate when I remembered he too was a happy heterosexual model – and furthermore noticed he was doing chin-ups off the port bow. I turned back to begin a mutually enjoyable tirade of complaints to my friend when I noticed he had wisely left me. I took this time to give myself a little pep-talk (“WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID, WHY ARE YOU HERE, YOU DON’T BELONG HERE, YOU ARE TOO OLD AND EVEN YOUR FAKE NAME SHOWS HOW OLD YOU ARE”) – and also to also explore the boat.

Two minutes later I had fully explored both the boat and my self-loathing and was ready to self-medicate at the bar. That’s when I noticed the cheapest drink was $7.50 and I had all of $25 in my wallet. After a few minutes working out the math of it all I sadly realised I could afford less than one drink per hour. Gay overboard. Thankfully I had run into a mutual friend (yes, another model) and he was keeping me entertained. For a model he certainly had a good grasp of the English language, knew his right from his left, and even had individual thoughts. I could tell he was very smart because he knew well enough to laugh at my jokes for 20 minutes before excusing himself. That’s when I learnt an important fact: people’s tolerance for unsolicited negative energy is lower at sea.

I should point out that at this point we have been ‘at sea’ for all of 15 minutes and already everyone on the boat is high as a kite. To use a nautical term, they were ‘tripping off their sea-balls’. I went to the bathroom and although it was overflowing with revellers, I was the only one actually using it. The guy next to me sneezed and I’m pretty sure I got a contact buzz for a good 20 minutes.

We have been ‘at sea’ for all of 15 minutes and already everyone on the boat is high as a kite. To use a nautical term, they were ‘tripping off their sea-balls’.

Sadly, like all highs, it wore off and I began to get really annoyed again. Here’s the thing: this boat was not gay at all. In fact it was subtly homophobic. It was all about ‘going gay’ for one night, while not actually having any interest in the same-sex. One guy was walking around with only a sailor’s bib over his bare chest. According to his sticky label his name was ‘Anal Bead’ and his sexuality was ‘?’. I asked him point-blank if he was a fellow pillow-biter and he emphatically told me “no way”. This made me very mad. Anal Bead was literally a straight in ‘gay’ clothing.

And you know what? I get it. I get the whole ‘labels are for cans and not for people, man’. I get that ‘gender is an outdated binary system’ and that a truly enlightened person understands that ‘sexuality is fluid’. But why did I feel like the only guy that would genuinely drink those fluids from another guy? Is it too much to ask for a fellow cocksucker at sea?

Is it too much to ask for a fellow cocksucker at sea?

At one point a kissing booth was erected and yet another hipster Adonis was sat at it – honestly, I was the only normal looking person on this boat – I felt so hideous by comparison that when we sailed under the Bolte bridge I thought of clinging to it and beginning my new life as a certified troll. The booth was intended to raise money for something AIDS related. Great. Lovely. My problem with it was that the straight guys who were paying to kiss another guy only did it so they could laugh with all their friends about the crazy thing they just did. And then post it on Twitter. I ask you – is that really in the spirit of AIDS? And look, ironic hipsters, I can handle a lot of things, but when you mess with the sanctity of the boy-on-boy pash you have gone TOO FAR. This wasn’t some liberated Pansexual Poseidon Adventure – this was a bunch of gayface-minstrels on the high seas.

This wasn’t some liberated Pansexual Poseidon Adventure – this was a bunch of gayface-minstrels on the high seas.

The night progressed, and though I tried, I just could not seem to get off my high horse. Maybe it was because I was insecure. Maybe it was because I felt my ‘gay identity/community/culture’ was being subtly mocked. Maybe it was because I was still the only sober one not tripping sea-balls.

I finally cheered up when I found the Holy Grail: two pink-shirted boys making out with each other violently, as only really drugged-up mincers can. I immediately felt calmer because some small part of my Big Gay Cruise dream had finally come true. I smiled for only a second before I realised how pathetically stereotypical my dream had been to begin with. Did I really need to see two boys in pink kissing in order to feel comfortable again? Was I that lame? I had thought these scenesters tokenistic and shallow and yet here I was, finally happy because I saw one same-sex kiss.

I looked in at the dance floor. The boys and girls were dancing to Finally, that song synonymous with big gay drag queens on a journey. For a second I tried to work out the genders of the dance partners – the ratio of gay to straight. Then I finally gave up. The point was people were dancing. People were having fun. They had shed their inhibitions, their clothes and all their sticky labels. And it was only me that had missed the boat.

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire host Eddie McGuire is under fire for making homophobic jibes about male figure skaters during his commentary of the winter olympics.

McGuire and his co-host, comedian Mick Molloy, referenced Brokeback Mountain when discussing the men’s skating and Molloy joked that figure skating champion Johnny Weir was a builder by day.

American figure skater Johnny Weir

“These blokes don’t leave anything in the locker room, do they,” Molloy said.
“They don’t leave anything in the closet either,” replied McGuire, sniggering.
“Careful,” Molloy said, “you’ll get yourself into trouble there.”

To be fair, Wier and many of his figure skating compadres do look like flaming ‘mos. With lotsa make-up and Broadway-worthy routines, the sport is camper  than the house remix of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina from Madonna’s Evita soundtrack. But what of it? Athletes like Johnny Weir train just as hard as men from more blokey sports and perform with equal measures of energy and grit. For them to have pursued such a frequently ridiculed sport takes true guts – and intestinal chutzpah is what Nike ads have always taught us that real athleticism is all about.

We can perhaps forgive Molloy for his comments on the Channel 9 coverage. They were fairly lame, but:

1. His profession is to poke fun at things.
2. He doesn’t strike us as being homophobic in the slightest.
3. He is quite funny.

McGuire, on the other hand, can politely piss the eff off. As,

1. His profession is to provide serious sports commentary.
2. His comments were made with a particularly vile air of casual locker room homophobia.
3. He is not funny and quite douchey.

While Johnny Weir has previously declined to come out as gay or straight, he has addressed the issue of figure skating’s ‘gay’ reputation. In the clip below, he admits to be “an effeminate person” who likes “sparkly things”. Still, he dismays that his sport is not considered to be the terrain of ‘real men’:

“I think it’s the music and the costumes that turn most men off. They want to see spandexed men hitting each other’s ass and throwing a ball.”

Hilariously, when asked in another interview about being gay, he said, “There are some things I keep sacred. My middle name. Who I sleep with. And what kind of hand moisturiser I use.” Actually, Weir is COMIC GOLD, having also described himself as “fierce tranny”. Love this man.

Interview by David Donaldson

The Australian Sex Party has seen its profile skyrocket lately. Largely on the coattails of publicity generated after Fiona Patten, the party’s leader, made claims that the Australian Classification Board refuses to classify porn containing adult women with small breasts (on the basis that it encourages peadophelia) and female ejaculation during orgasm (as the ACB believes it is a form of urination).

While we can find no evidence that the ACB has a specific policy regarding women of modest bust – and, according to this Crikey article, they have only banned a handful of films featuring A-cup women on the grounds that certain actors appeared underage – they do refuse classification of films depicting urination, or, in porno parlance, golden showers.

Shirt Lifters reporter David Donaldson recently spoke to Australian Sex Party leader Fiona Patten about her claims, as well as the ASP’s broader political platform. Aside from demands for less restrictive censorship, the party also wants freer abortion laws, more funding for maternity leave, and full legal equality for queer Australians. The ASP also calls for Viagra to be available on the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme, the removal of legislation prohibiting Indigenous people possessing erotic media in the Northern Territory, and mandatory equal representation of women in the Senate and state Upper Houses.

David Donaldson: Hi Fiona, I’m curious if there was a specific reason that you started the Australian Sex Party.
Fiona Patten: I think it was the [government's proposed] internet filter that was really the final straw. I’ve been effectively working as a lobbyist since the early 1990s [as part of the Eros Association], and while we were presenting sensible arguments about law reform, particularly around censorship, Australia’s censorship measures seemed to be getting worse and worse. In the end we thought, ‘Well, if we can’t change their minds from the outside, let’s try and do it from the inside’. We decided to try to run for election in the Senate to provide a voice that doesn’t seem to be getting heard. I mean, you’ve got the Tony Abbotts and the Kevin Rudds and the Steve Fieldings, but there are very few sex positive voices. And while sex may seem like a single issue, we think it’s a pretty big single issue.

Australian Sex Party founder Fiona Patten

Do you worry people will view you as a single issue party?
Yes and no. We thought long and hard about it, and we thought that we could be the ‘Freedom Party’, or the ‘Adult Party’, or the ‘Liberty Party’, or something like that. But something [Democrats founder] Don Chipp said years ago was that the hardest thing about starting a new political party was getting noticed. We felt that the ‘Sex Party’ was going to get noticed. And we were pretty correct in that. The problem is that most people – and particular politicians – giggle at the word ‘sex’, which means that issues like sex education and issues around sex and disability aren’t discussed. As we grow we will certainly expand our policies, but we actually think that sex – be it sex as gender or sex as sexuality – is a very important issue in our lives. None of us would be here without it!

Given that it might be an election year, what will your campaign focus on?
We’ll be focusing on the Senate. And certainly, I think the internet [and censorship] is a crucial issue in our lives. And people say, ‘Oh it’s just porn!’, but it’s not just porn. It’s about the government deciding to have a secret blacklist of sites that they won’t let Australians look at. Whether the sites are porn, or the sites are pro-abortion or pro-euthanasia, it’s about the government deciding – secretly – what we can and can’t look at. There is this feeling that the government is starting to interfere in our lives to a greater and greater degree, and I think that is felt by a wide range of the community, not just the people who go to Sexpo.

I just read the Sydney Morning Herald article that cites your claims about the Australian Classification Board refusing to classify certain porn featuring adult women with small breasts, or depictions of female ejaculation. What do you think are the real issues in these instances?
Regarding the small breasts issue, it’s fear mongering around this growing concern that somehow our children are being over-sexualised, and that having an 18 year old with small breasts is somehow portraying a minor and therefore it’s promoting pedophilia. You know, it’s this really horrible train of thought. So we’ve seen a real crackdown in adult material that features women who are over-18 – most of whom are in their 20s – and who have small breasts or who look youthful. And frankly, why would we expect 19 year old people not to want to look at people who look 19. Not everybody wants a MILF or a cougar!

I guess the greater concern is that that material is being refused classification at all. Material of women having an orgasm and ejaculating becomes ‘refused classification’, so [potentially] all websites that feature that become ‘refused classification’ and must therefore be prohibited under the government’s proposed internet filter. And why are [film depictions of] golden showers illegal anyway? It’s quite legal to do it, it’s quite legal for a sex worker to provide it as a paid service, it’s quite legal to have a photograph of it, it’s only illegal to have a moving image of it in Australia. It’s totally bizarre and our classification scheme is totally bizarre. It was first introduced about 30 years ago and they’ve added to it as technology has changed, but they haven’t kept up with community attitudes to sex and sexuality. The 21st century is about the individual making those decisions; it’s not about government making those decisions on our behalf.

Why are [film depictions of] golden showers illegal anyway? It’s quite legal to do it, it’s quite legal for a sex worker to provide it as a paid service, it’s quite legal to have a photograph of it, it’s only illegal to have a moving image of it.

You seem to also have a big focus on gay rights, and I read that you’ll have a stall at Mardi Gras.
I personally cannot understand how we can have laws in our country on the grounds of who people love. And that is exactly what the Marriage Act does. It means that my sister, who is gay, cannot adopt her daughter. She’s a school teacher, she’s been a school teacher for 25 years, yet the government says that she’s not a fit and proper person to adopt the child that her and her partner had. I think that this is a really important issue. We cannot have a law in our country that discriminates people on the grounds of anything, be it their sexuality, or their gender, or their religion, or their nationality. 

You ran as a candidate in the Higgins by-election and polled at 3.3%, which is the same result that burlesque performer and fellow ASP candidate Zahra Stardust received in seat of Bradfield. Do you two plan to run in other elections?
Her and I will definitely be running in the Senate in Victoria and New South Wales, and we hope to have a full Senate ticket in all states in Australia. We’re talking to candidates in all states.

Photos by Georgia Scale

Holy genderfuck, Batman, this Monday 25 January sees the opening of the Melbourne art exhibition Re/Gendered, featuring a bevy of high-pedigree artists celebrating the notion of  ‘unstable’ gender. Starting 6pm in the Degraves Street Subway, new works from the likes of Monika Tichacek, Tejal Shah, Jake Wotherspoon, Drew Pettifer and Michelle Tran will be unveiled, plus there’ll be  a gamut of  lives performances.

Said entertainers will include the ever-foxy Anthony Cleave, and dynamo duo Godzilla and Mummy Complex. These three beauties were recently photographed strolling through the streets of Fitzroy. Here are the surprisingly demure, yet reassuringly sultry happy snaps.

Wheelie bin chic: Anthony Cleave (left), Godzilla Jones (centre) and Mummy Complex (right)

Barring up.

Feeling kinda sporty.

While Truman Capote and Gore Vidal are known as two of last century’s most famous gay American authors, their spiteful rivalry, which played out in full public view over a number a decades, is legendary in its own right.

The pair first met in 1945 at the apartment of Anaïs Nin. Both were at the beginning of their careers and bonded over a shared literary status as Bright Young Things. According to Capote biographer Gerald Clarke, they struck up a tenuous friendship and would galavant through Manhattan. On one occasion Vidal took Capote to a well-known New York gay bathhouse, while Capote once escorted Vidal to Phil’s Black Celebrity Club, a mostly gay dancehall in Harlem.

Aside from being literary upstarts and being attracted to men, the two could not be more dissimilar. Capote was a campy socialite with a lyrical, often sentimental writing style. Vidal was a fiercely political man of letters whose words were colder and more concise. Before long the duo went from friends, to frenemies to outright adversaries.  Truman would mix compliments about Gore – “I always liked [him]. He was amusing, bright and always very vinegary” – with damning censure:

“[Vidal] has no talent, except for writing essays. He has no interior sensitivity, he can’t put himself into someone else’s shoes – and except for Myra Breckinridge, he never really found his voice.”

By the early 1950s, Tennessee Williams remarked that the two seemed locked in a pitched battle “running neck-and-neck for some fabulous gold prize”. While they both produced remarkable work during the ’50s, ’60s – Capote with In Cold Blood and Vidal with Myra Breckinridge – their hatred of each other became more pronounced. Vidal’s insults were often the most memorable:

“Truman Capote has made lying an art. A minor art.”

“[Capote is] a full-fledged housewife from Kansas with all the prejudices.”

Vidal (left) and Capote (right) became increasingly terrible to each other.

By the mid ’70s the sparring escalated into war after Capote, who was by then an alcoholic, made false claims about Vidal during a boozy interview to Playgirl magazine. He said Vidal had once been ejected from a White House party hosted by John F Kennedy for being inebriated and obnoxious. “It was the only time he had ever been incited to the White House and he got drunk,” Truman sniped. “Annnnd … he insulted Jackie’s mother, who he had never met before in his life!” He finished by saying that Bobby Kennedy, Arthur Schlesinger and a guard “picked Gore up and carried him to the door and threw him out into Pennsylvania Avenue.”

Vidal was furious and decided to sue Capote for libel, proclaiming, “I’m looking forward to getting that little toad!”. During the deposition for the case Gore was asked when he had last seen Capote. He replied that it had been at a party in the late ’60s, before delivering a comic routine about Truman’s famously pint-sized stature.

“Q: What occurred on that occasion?
A: I sat on him.
Q: What do you mean?
A: I didn’t have my glasses on and I sat down on what I thought was a stool and it was Capote.
Q: Where was Capote sitting at the time you sat on him?
A: On a smaller stool.”

The trial dragged on for years. At one point Capote decided he would clear his name by providing the New York magazine with unpublished transcripts of the case. “Until the magazine was actually on the press I could hardly breathe, but right now it is rolling down the chutes along with Gore’s career,” he beamed. “I will have the greatest single revenge in literary history . . . For the rest of the life he’ll wake up in the morning and be happy for ten minutes – then he’ll remember what happened on that day in June. The humiliation for him! I love it! I love it! I love it! When he dies, they’ll write on his tombstone, ‘Here Lies Gore Vidal: He Messed Around with T.C.’”

His revenge fantasy never materialised. Unable to prove his statements to Playgirl were true, Capote was forced to pay damages to Vidal in 1983 and make a grovelling public apology. Capote succumbed to the erosive effects of alcoholism and prescription drug abuse a year later, dying at age 59. Vidal – the hard-headed naysayer who had continued to accuse Capote of writing saccharine and sentimental prose – was unmoved by the news. When asked for his opinion, he couldn’t help but take a parting shot. It was, he said, “a good career move”.

Alexyss Tylor hosts a public access TV show called Vagina Power and she’s here to tell us about the male ho. The sort of guy who puts you under the spell of his “penis power”. But not the good sort of penis power, no, she’s talking about the penis power of a man who lives to ejaculate: a predator who will hunt out a lonely woman who otherwise pleasures herself with toys because her “vagina is cold”.

Let’s have Alexyss clarify things in her own words, because while she may not have a psychology degree, she does have a “masters in being played by men”. What makes this clip especially compelling – apart from Alexyss’s amazing turn of phrase and hypnotic speaking pace - is the fact that her mother is by her side, occasionally interjecting with Jesus speak and questions about vibrators.

We recently posted a video of some thoroughly adoreable Mariah fans on Oprah. The star of the clip was sassy Missouri college student Will Hudson, who kicks off  by asking Oprah the simple question: “Will Mariah be on this season?”. Winfrey said ‘yes’, and was so charmed by Hudson’s slightly crazed and completely hilarious reaction that she decided to fly him and his friends to the taping of the Mariah episode in New York.

Thanks to the magic of the internet, we managed to get in touch with Hudson to find out just how your life changes when Oprah points her god-like hand in your direction and announces: “I am going to HOOK YOU UP.”

So, Will, what was it like when Oprah spoke to you?
I never imagined I would speak with Oprah. When I asked her about Mariah I was simply asking when to watch on my own television. I was not seeking anything free. Frankly, I did not fully believe what she had said until I was on stage in New York in front of the nation dancing around with Mariah.

Just how deep does your Mariah obsession run?
I would say Mariah is more of an inspiration than an obsession. I adore her music, the quality of her voice and the depth of personality she brings to her music. Yet I would not call myself obsessed because I still view her as human and not above anyone else. I never have held any celebrity above myself or anyone else in this world.

How great is Oprah? Seriously.
Ya know, people can say what they want about Oprah Winfrey. A lot of people claim she does it for the publicity. But in the oh so brief moments I shared with her, I got the impression she was sincerely interested in inspiring and helping others.

You must have been in gay man heaven with Oprah on one side and Mariah on the other.
Well, being on stage with both of them was a blur. I did not remember any of my actions nor what they said to me until I got back home to Missouri and saw it on YouTube. Then I laughed and realized I had done the impossible and met two of my greatest inspirations.

Hudson meets the gals: "I was exploding with joy".

And tell us about going on stage with Mariah
I always told friends and family that if I met Mariah Carey I would probably cry or pass out. Neither happened. I am not sure how I handled myself so well, but inside I was exploding with joy. It was the biggest joy I have ever experienced in my life. And it went by so quickly. It was one huge blur.

Hudson gets friendly with MC

Lastly, I have to say this experience has been the experience of a lifetime. That sounds cliché, but it’s true. What have I gained from it? I have gained a new sense of self. And that is more valuable than meeting Mariah, Oprah or free trips. To understand one’s self and their goals is important to me.

Thank you, Will, you seem like a very wise person. We salute you and your Oprah-and-Mariah-meeting-abilities.

Christmas can be a very stressful time. Especially in the household of Saint Nicholas, aka Santa Claus. Especially when you’re Mrs Claus (as portrayed by Golden Girls star Bea Arthur) and you think your husband is a dead-set jerk .

This clip of Arthur in a 1980s ad campaign for Shoppers Drug Mart (what a magical-sounding place!) was brought to our attention by formidable wit and former Shirt Lifters writer Ash Flanders, who wrote: “I love the idea of Bea as the emasculating wife archetype.” As do we, as do we.

We are very pleased to bring you the second of our illustrious new Oh Yes They Did segment, in which we publish overheard pieces of conversation. This week we focus on the contentious Ms Britney Spears.

I was recently blessed with a free ticket to see Spears in concert. I have rarely witnessed anything as compelling and surreal as that show. Circus freaks were paraded about on stage while pyrotechnics exploded hither and yon and squadrons of lithe dancers performed startling acrobatics. Amid the spectacle, Britney danced and mimed with a level of enthusiasm bordering on comatose. After half an hour of lip syncing she finally spoke to the audience – clearing up any confusion that we might be watching a sophisticated hologram.

No matter. The show was amazing. Especially when a huge screen descended from the roof and a video of Britney vampishly miming Marilyn Manson’s electro-goth cover of Sweet Dreams was beamed forth. Sure, it’s odd that 30,000 people were stacked into a stadium, squealing at a woman who can’t really – or prefers not to – sing or dance, but this was a victory of Style over Substance. And it felt really, really good. Here’s some things people said about Spears:

En route to Britney in a tram:
Stranger 1: I don’t care that she lip-syncs. We’re not going to see Aretha Franklin. This is Britney, and I don’t want her to be hindered by having to sing.
Stranger 2: That’s exactly what I told my workmates this morning.

On stage before Britney appears: A woman dressed in a cheerleader outfit, who has no legs whatsoever – as befits the ‘circus’ theme of the tour – is bouncing on a trampoline and somersaulting high into the air. The stadium of onlookers oohs, ahs and applauds at fever pitch:
Audience Member  1: I’m not comfortable with this. It’s so, I dunno, exploitative.
Audience Member 2: But maybe that’s her dream. Everybody has a dream.

Days after the concert, a group of friends discuss Britney:
Friend 1: So you’re saying she can’t really sing or dance but she still sold-out a stadium?
Friend 2: Yep.
Friend 1: Eugh! She represents everything I hate about capitalism and cultural imperialism.
Friend 2: Yeah, but she does have some pretty amazing songs.

So the Australian Liberal party have a new leader in arch conservative Tony Abbott. Some say his appointment will spell electoral doom for the Liberals, others believe it will revive the party into a formidable opposition. Sarah Murdoch, the wife of Lachlan Murdoch – who is, in turn, the heir of billionaire media mogul Rupert Murdoch – is rather excited about Abbott’s new position, despite his being against abortion, IVF, stem cell research and no-fault divorce. After Abbott was announced as leader, Murdoch gushed via her Twitter account:

On the flipside of the proverbial brass razoo, we assume that former Greens Senator Kerry Nettle is kinda un-pumped about Abbott’s appointment,  judging by this picture of her from 2006:

In the rhyming couplet stakes, that’s a bit of a zinger.