My arrogance knows no bounds and I will make no peace today, and you should be so lucky to find a woman like me
My arrogance knows no bounds
And I will make no peace today
And you shall be so lucky
To find a woman like me
Today neither will the East claim me
nor the West admit me
Today my belly is a well
wherein serpents are coiled
ready to poison the world,
and you should be so lucky.
All I have is my arrogamce
I will teach it to lean back
and smoke a cigarette in your faces,
and you should be so lucky
No I will make no peace
even though my hands are empty
I will talk as big as I please
I will be all or nothing
And I will jump before the heavy trucks
And I will saw off my leg at the thigh
before I bend one womanly knee
I am poison
And you will drink me
And you should be so lucky.
Ishtar Awakens in Chicago by Moja Khaf
will always reblog
Alberto Giacometti - Portrait of Rimbaud (1962)
A Thousand dreams within me softly burn. —Arthur Rimbaud
Atta Kim, The Museum Project #019, From The Field Series, 1997
Joel Peter Witkin, Gods of Earth and Heaven, 1988
Untitled(body trailing blood)
Body Politics, 1993
Ceci est la couleur de mes rêves (This is the color of my dreams)
Ulrike Rosenbach, Female Energy Change, 1976
Possibly in Michigan, (1983), dir. Cecelia Condit
Possibly in Michigan is an operatic fairy tale of cannibalism, desire and dread in Middle America, a densely collaged narrative in which Beauty meets the Beast in the surreal landscape of shopping-mall suburbia. Two women with a penchant for “violence and perfume” take revenge on their animal-masked male persecutor. In this contemporary rendering of gothic enchantment, victim becomes aggressor and the familiar becomes the fantastic. Condit reworks popular narrative conventions using black humor, sing-song dialogue, and ironically gruesome images. Constructing a comically grim fairy tale of dreamlike pursuit and sexual violence, she inverts traditional Freudian metaphors to impart a subversive voice to her transgressive heroines: “I bite at the hand that feeds me.” Possibly in Michigan is a classic tale of psychosexual horror, retold as an irreverent fantasy of the other.
Queer workers at the July 1992 picket of End-Up Bar in San Francisco, holding signs and banners reading "Support Militant Queer Labor" and "Build Militant Queer Unions"
In 1992, queer workers of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) were illegally fired for attempting to organize a union at the End-Up, a popular gay bar in San Francisco’s South of Market district.
The “gay ghetto,” as residents called it, was composed of young, working class queer people who had fled abusive households, often before they were even eighteen. Expecting to be accepted in a community of fellow queer people, these young people found that their vulnerability was exploited by employers who, despite being gay themselves, paid queer workers as little as $5/hr to wait tables. As one queer IWW member said,
The real victory at the End-Up, however, is that queer workers organized to fight back within our own community. As a ruling caste, gay establishment bosses simultaneously maintain a stranglehold on the community’s resources while simultaneously proclaiming that “we’re all family.” Fiercely anti-union, gay bar owners also publish the local gay papers and own the boutiques in “our” neighborhood, where sometimes we get to work.
The unmitigated gall of homophobic bigots is matched in a very odd way by the bosses of the gay ghetto. Bashings and discrimination keep people fleeing to communities of identity in urban centers like San Francisco, in the hopes of building lives with some measure of freedom and safety. That means lots of new people, all the time, without pre-existing roots in the community and desperate for work to boot. It keeps wages low. It keeps people scared to rock such boat as there is, to talk back, or step out of line, for what such workers have to lose is their very sense of self.
Rather than appeal to the anti-labor and anti-queer courts for assistance, the queer workers championed the IWW’s strategy of “solidarity unionism,” where workers used direct action on their job to enforce their demands. Their picket lines were respected by truck drivers of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters (IBT), who delivered liquor to the bar. With no liquor being delivered to the establishment and daily pickets surrounding the bar, the End-Up’s management eventually buckled, reinstated the fired workers, and officially recognized the union.
This was one of the first successful implementations of the IWW’s now-popular model of solidarity unionism, and demonstrates the relevance of revolutionary unions to queer struggles.
[a worker’s account of the picket can be read here. image from The Industrial Workers of the World: Its First 100 Years, p. 211]