Click the bird to return to 96 index
Love's Supreme Desire xxx
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Howdy, thanks for expressing an interest in the Love's Supreme Desire xxx
collective. What's going on here? What are we about? How do you fit in?
Well, the collective got started officially on August 1, 1995, following
a big adventure that I had in the Southwest. After three years of being artistically
closed down, depressed, hopeless, cynical, and bitchy, I found out about the
Global Peace Walk 95, which was a bunch of people walking from the UN in
New York City to UN Plaza in San Francisco to commemorate the UN's fiftieth
anniversary and as a prayer offering for global peace. I had just been laid-off
from a really crappy job at a bank(!) and so I decided that this was the sort
of uplifting project and road-trip that I needed to shake up my beige and
farty life.
I joined the Peace Walk in Taos, New Mexico and on the first night I had
an intense spiritual experience in a Native American sweat lodge. I also had
other adventures on the Peace Walk that motivated me to devote my life to
the pursuit of Global Peace. I know, you're thinking, "Oh God, another New
Age Flake from Marin." But I'm not from Marin. And besides, this is no joke,
I did have a transformative experience that I won't go into here, but if
you're interested, we'll talk. I like to discuss spiritual matters because
they motivate me more than anything else.
Having been the only openly gay person on the walk, I was happy to hang
with my tribe, the Radical Faeries, later that year at the national Rainbow
Family of Light gathering. I'd been hanging with the Faeries since 1992 but
this was my first time at a gathering of Faeries, and I loved it exceedingly.
We played, laughed, touched, dragged, drugged, frolicked and sillified ourselves
the whole time and it was incredibly liberating for me.
On the way back to San Francisco, I began discussing with my friend Nicholas
Jordan the idea of a collective of artists, a mutually-supportive environment
where we could be free to create, free to be our liberated selves, and thus
encourage liberation, peace and love to blossom forth in the general community.
We envisioned theatrical productions, recording studios, live-work space,
you name it. We don't have any of those things, but the collective has inspired
a few projects and things are in the works.
For instance, we have the monthly LSD Tabloid, which is a callboard and
events newsletter. Anyone who would like to participate in or suggest a project
for collaboration with others can do so by checking out the LSD Tabloid. If
you'd like to subscribe, please consider a donation of two first class stamps
for each issue desired. You can mail your stamps to me, Bloobird, at 634
Edna St., SF CA 94127. Or if you'd like to receive a text-only version via
the internet, send me a "subscribe LSD Tabloid" message at . If you'd like
to announce a gig or suggest a new project, simply contact me by the fifteenth
of each month with the pertinent information. It's a free service to the
artistic community, but what you can do to help out is to distribute copies
far and wide as you can afford, or to donate stamps. What we have here is
a network, really, more than a collective, at least at this point, so whatever
we can all do to help, well, helps.
We also publish a zine called LSDXXX, which comes out whenever it damn well
gets finished. The first one is sold-out and we are currently working on the
second one, which we hope to complete some day. We are always accepting submissions
of all kinds for the zine, the more far out the better, but please, no fighting
words. We are trying to build bridges after a long period of seeing them
burn down in the community at large.
We have other things going on and more on the horizon, but the idea I'm
trying to get across here is that YOU are an important part of the LSDXXX
collective. Not because we want you to send money. Things can and do happen
with nary a penny whatsoever. But your active involvement is very important
and welcome. In these days of funding cutbacks, we artists can survive and
thrive by supporting one another's dreams and visions.
Peace,
Bloobird
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LSD Tabloid
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Schmoozemagazine of the artist's collective, Love's Supreme Desire xxx No.
8, August 1996 Tel-A-Fool events & info line /Fax: 415-333-9549, E-mail:
bloobird@sirius.com
Happy Birthday Love's Supreme Desire xxx collective! One year old August
1, 1996
This is LSD Tabloid, the monthly newsletter of Love's Supreme Desire xxx.
Though primarily queer, male and pagan in current composition, we are an inclusive
group of artists striving towards a rainbow community of personal, artistic
and spiritual growth for the good of all. We welcome your proposals for new
projects and your involvement in the projects already proposed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
What I did on my Summer Vacation
You didn't know I was gone, did you? Well I was, Thilly Thithter, and was
I ever. What a kooky adventure I had travelling across the big beautiful land
that you and I know as Los Estados Unidos, or Turtle Island, or just plain
old America. Lots of stuff to look at, think about, eat, drink, smoke, throw,
climb, hear, see and do.
First, my lovely hubby Elroy (who is my partner in crime) and I took the
Amtrak to Salt Lake City, Utah to hang out for a few days. Hang out for a
few days in Salt Lake City? Big old faggots like us? Well, Elroy had bidness
there and I hung out wandering around looking for weird stuff, and I'm happy
to say that I found it.
If you go to Salt Lake City, wander on down to 666 South State St. and you'll
find a sweet little heavy metal bar there. I just strolled in out of the rain
one afternoon before they were officially open and the nicest long-haired
straight boy was there behind the bar just a-cleanin' shit up. I just wanted
to look at the funk therein but felt obliged to consume something, you know,
to keep the business afloat, so I asked for some coffee. He didn't have any
prepared, so he made me a whole pot just because he was nice and sweet. It
was weak and grody, but all the same, after two cups I asked him how much
I owed him and he said I didn't owe anything. Wasn't that nice?
So I stiffed him. I mean, I tipped him extra-fancy. Across the street, I
found a Deadhead (lite) shop. Why "lite?" Weren't no drug paraphernalia there
to speak of. There were also other clubs and stores to be seen that sported
a definite queer-friendly and neo rad vibe, I'm pleased to say. The best restaurant
in the city is Bill and Nada's diner straight out of the fifties with mega-huge
portions, teeny juke-boxes at all the tables and nice friendly attitude (this
is the real McCoy). Go there and stuff your face all nice, and give them
a big fat tip.
Even cooler, if you're as much into porno as I am, there were several porn-mag
shops right around the corner from City Hall. Dig it, I'm from Cincinnati,
Ohio, and I always assumed Salt Lake City was way more conservative than Cincinnati,
but nope; they have queer and straight porno stacked up all cozy right next
to each other, so that all of those gonads of different stripes get all hot
and bothered right next to each other in happiness.
Next we went to Chicago via Amtrak and was it lovely. Going through the
Rockies was so fucking beautiful, I came in my pants_twice! They have some
excellent pizza in Chicago, and I should know because I work in a pizza joint.
The train there is so cool, the "L," that is; it goes winding through behind
and between old brick buildings that have colorful back porches and cool graffiti.
We always heard bits of Jazz floating around in the air. We saw "Independence
Day" in Chicago. I know, I know, but I love science fiction and alien-type
stuff so I couldn't possibly resist. It wasn't dreadful, but it sucked in
lots of ways. Highly predictable; strictly matinee-priced material.
Next, I flew to Baltimore and Miss Elroy flew to San Francisco. Did I fly
to Baltimore to worship at the altar of Hairspray Divinity, Mr. John Waters?
Oh, how I wish. I flew there to collect the Honda Civic spaceship that I would
drive across the country for my friend who is moving out here to this nutsoid,
wacky, Minty-Fresh town.
First day I drove all by my self to Cincinnati, Ohio to collect my friend
John Becker. I had hoped to first collect my boyhood friend Clay Parker in
Cleveland, but he is a notorious ho drunk artist freak and so he spaced out
our appointed meeting, but I still love him all to pieces. Mind you, I don't
like Cincinnati very much. I found it to be intolerant, homogenous, and boring
when I was growing up there, although I did have some wonderful friends and
great pagan experiences in my early freak years. I was pleasantly surprised
to find a new queer bookstore right downtown and many more off white faces
than before. Even Cincinnati, Ohio is approaching the 21st century.
The next day we drove all the way to Edmond, Oklahoma to crash with my crazy
sister Karen, who I love so much, it's weird. She is one of the nuttiest people
I have ever met, and she lives in a nice little suburb undercover as a mom.
We always used to stay up all night watching bad sci-fi and comedy, and she
took me to New York City for the first time. She can burp louder than anyone
I know; that's how cool she is. So anyway, we got there late and she was
a-waiting for us with two beers sitting out on the front doorstep. We drank
some frozen margarita-thing that you buy in a bucket at the grocery store
and stayed up til three typing surreal messages into the adult conversation
lounge on Compuserve. Sister Mary Punching Nun came out and kept us all in
line but the Sister Mary Squeeze-toy Nun was much nicer; she likes to party.
Everybody on Compuserve hated us. Oooops.
Woah, hangover, stay in bed til 11 AM. Big storm outside Oklahoma City,
rain all over the place. I didn't know it ever rained there. They were just
coming out of a drought, a big one. Clouds all the way through flat flat
flat Texas. Went thrift shopping in Amarillo and ate at Paradise Too, a cheesy
fabulous mexican dive with a sweet Texan waitress who just couldn't remember
anything at all, but I know the feeling. We saw lots of Jesus propaganda
in Texas, like bumper stickers that said "Jesus saves FROM HELL" (which I
took to mean that Jesus does his "saving" gig out of a little office somewhere
in hell), a big white cross stuck next to a field, which of course made me
kvetch, "Now don't you think that's just a little bit pushy? People from
other religions don't go putting up huge billboards, gigantic menorahs, or
print up bumper stickers." Maybe we just need more marketing savvy, I don't
know. Wonder what Jesus would say about it? I don't think he'd like it much.
Crashed that night in Albuquerque, New Mexico after driving through the
most amazing, dramatic and beautiful storm I have ever seen. Lightning! Huge
black clouds! Red, hard ground turning into luscious pools of Campbell's
tomato soup. We ate at Frontier's restaurant right near the University of
New Mexico, on Route 66 (Central Ave.). Nice place. Cheap food and lots of
it, infinite hang time, lots of handsome, tragically straight Latino or Native
American dudes looking sultry all over the place without realizing it. My
head nearly swivelled right off.
Stayed the next day at Zuni Mountain Sanctuary near Ramah, New Mexico, making
food and hanging in the conversation lounge giggling. Work is progressing
nicely on the main building and Granite's place, and they have new kitties
and doggies around now. We had a fabulous drumming circle that night, listening
to the screaming frogs and cursing the mosquitoes. I love the screaming frogs
so much because they are cute and they talk to you all the time. The mosquitoes
I like somewhat less, but hey, it's the great outdoors; what do you want?
Room service?
Next day was hiking in Sedona, Arizona. Simply the most beautiful natural
environment I have ever seen. Huge red rock formations with sage and different
cacti everywhere. Pink lightning, rainbow clouds. My big fat mouth stayed
shut for the entire time we were there, that's how incredible it was. First
time I was in Sedona all I saw was the main tourist drag, which looks like
tourist drags everywhere, and therefore sucks. This time, I went up to some
young hippy dudes who were selling sage (from California) and hemp necklaces
and they turned us on to WEST Sedona, which is where the normal abnormal people
live. We ate at Tamale Mama's per their suggestion and ended up talking synchronistically
with this charming straight hippy dude who worked there. He's the one who
told us where some great hiking was, and he made us some mean burritos, so
we liked him. If you ever go to Sedona, drive down 89A (Oak Creek Canyon),
not highway 17. The canyon is unbearably beautiful; you'll shit.
Here's where things got to be not-so-lovely, but I can't complain: we drove
all the way down to Mesa, Arizona, to collect one of my old Cincinnati friends.
She gave us incomplete directions and so we drove around lost for a long time
tired, hungry and bitchy in the really hot weather, even though it was night.
Next day we got lost some more but finally got the hell out of there. We
got to Las Vegas early that evening and were of course blown-away by all of
the neon and kitschiness. We ate at Circus Circus' $4.99 dinner buffet just
like pigs at the trough along with thousands of other starving tight-wads,
then tried to gamble there but were so over it that we fled to a little pub
in the Bonanza strip mall, the "world's largest gift shop." I bought a Las
Vegas snow globey (you know, those domed things with snow and kitschy shit
inside) and a little black shiny plastic tray covered with pictures of floating
gold dice, roulette wheels, playing cards and the words "Fabulous Las Vegas."
The desperate gamble!party!consume! vibes from the tourists swarming on the
strip really wore me out and I was glad to leave Las Vegas, to tell the truth.
The ride to Mono Lake was mostly somber and quiet; it had been a long week.
But what a fabulous surprise when we got there! It's a highly-salinated lake,
so much so that you can float in it. It's surrounded pretty much by mountains,
and there are these otherworldly stalagmite-looking things poking up all over
the place, and an island of this stuff in the center of the lake. There are
tons of black flies that swarm all over the edge of the water, but they're
so happy just crawling all over each other and chilling in the water that
they don't bother humans at all. They'd just scatter when we got near, then
go plop down somewhere else. The sea gulls around the lake feed on brine shrimp
(the lake is stocked with Sea-Monkeys) and they also dig the flies, I'm sure.
The water was so warm and cool after the shitty events of the previous day
that we were just all relaxed and chatty while we drove through lovely Yosemite
and on the final stretch into San Francisco. So that's what I did on my summer
vacation.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Projects & Cool Stuff Upcoming LSDXXX #2: The second issue of our quarterly
zine, LSDXXX, will be completed soon. Please contact Josh or Garrin at 415-474-3447.
Or mail a $1-3 donation (or pay what you can) plus a $.96 postage-paid legal-sized
SASE to LSDXXX c/o Josh/Garrin, 925 Post st., SF, CA 94109-5841.
Tel-A-Fool: Announcing a new events line, Tel-A-Fool, sponsored by the Love's
Supreme Desire xxx collective. Listing Bay Area radical faerie and friends
arts and creative spirit events, Tel-A-Fool complements Tel-A-Fairy (415-626-3369),
which lists Bay Area radical faerie general information. This is a free service
for both artists and potential audiences. If you want a radical faerie and
friends presence at your event, call Tel-A-Fool @ 415-333-9549 at least one
week in advance. Outgoing events message will be updated each Wednesday morning.
MAYA, (6/96): a band that includes Peter Horta and Garrin Benfield of the
John Body Players, has relocated to San Francisco! MAYA plays all original
cathartic dance music -- it ranges from fast and funky, dark and multi-layered,
to disorienting and polyrhythmic, quiet and acoustic. The band is currently
scheduling gigs to begin August 1. We like playing clubs, but we love playing
parties. If you're interested in setting up an event, or know of one that
MAYA should be involved in, call GARRIN at 931-9561. Please call this number
to request a tape. GIGS: Sat. July 27th, Cafe International, Haight &
Fillmore, SF., Sat. August 10th, Brainwash Cafe, Folsom, SF., Sun. August
11th, Blake's, Telegraph Ave., Berkeley. 10 pm., Tues. August 20th, Club Cocodrie,
Kearney & Broadway, SF., Sat. August 24th, Juanita's, Chico, CA. See
you soon!
Poetry reading: Sparrow 13 Laughingwand will be reading poetry Thursday,
Aug. 15th at Modern Times Books, 888 Valencia St., SF, 8 pm. He has a new
book entitled Hell Soup by Manic D press, SF. Clay M. Parker (8/96): Controversial
cartoonist/painter Clay M. Parker has relocated to San Francisco and is looking
for gigs designing t-shirts, album covers, comic strips and fliers for punk/metal
bands and nightclubs. His work has been compared to both Robert Crumb and
S. Clay Wilson and has been utilized by many clubs throughout Dallas and Cleveland.
For more information call (415) 585-8273 or e-mail bloobird@sirius.com
Time is not money. Time is art.