The weltanschauung of the evangelical Christianity that I grew up with did not permit the coexistence of homosexuality and faith. Homosexuality was a choice. Consequently, anyone who chose to remain a practicing Christian would not reasonably choose to be gay; it simply was not possible, as the two choices were mutually exclusive. (This deeply-engrained belief was the reason why I didn’t conceive that I could be gay until I was 19 years old.)
This dichotomous frame of mind had some odd consequences. It meant that undergirding all conversations related to sexual purity was the assumption that the men were sexually interested in women (and vice versa). Jesus’ statement that looking lustfully at a woman constitutes a sin (read: heart adultery, see Matthew 5:28) was taken literally. Thus, throughout my upbringing, various evangelical institutions set rules to supposedly mitigate temptations of heterosexual carnal lust, in line with what Paul said in Ephesians 5:3 (“But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people”).
One such rule was, “Don’t look at pornography”, as that was considered looking lustfully at women. Yet I was unsure how to classify what I was doing in middle school as I surfed the internet for images and videos of men having sex. At the time, I wondered whether what I was looking at was even considered pornography because it wasn’t women. It felt inherently wrong to me, but technically I was not lusting after women. So was I sinning? I couldn’t answer that with certainty. I was violating the spirit of the law, but not the letter of the law.*
A second rule was, “Don’t have sex before marriage”. For the first two years or so that I had sexual desire, a slew of church purity talks had convinced me that “sex” only meant a man and a woman engaging in vaginal penetrative sex (because no other acts were mentioned). Given the data received, I could argue that the entire catalog of all gay sex acts (as well as heterosexual oral sex and whatever else straights do) was not considered “sex”. Therefore, I reasoned, I could engage in sexual acts with another man without breaking the rule of “no sex before marriage”, as I technically wouldn’t be having sex.*
A third rule was how kids were housed at Christian camps. Girls and boys were always assigned to gender-specific cabins, or even gender-specific wings of the campsite. Strict rules were generally in place regulating the times when members of the opposite sex could be in or around the accommodations. The assumption was that campers would only want to fool around with members of the opposite sex and not with members of the same sex, and these rules would remove the opportunity to act on that temptation. But these rules are futile for kids with same-sex attraction—and may even facilitate encounters. It would be incredibly easy to “go to the bathroom” using the buddy system and then wander off into the woods with said buddy for a handjob. I was a good kid (and my gaydar is terrible), so I never participated in such activities growing up. But I know how easy it could have been.
A fourth rule was in my Christian fraternity in college. The national fraternity had set a rule that women were not permitted in members’ bedrooms past 12 AM, nor in the chapter houses past 2 AM. But there was no regulation on men who did not live in the house (or even men who did live in the house). Consequently, over the course of my final three active semesters, I had a handful of guys stay the night in my bed at the fraternity house, which technically did not break the rules. Once again, I had not violated the letter of the law, but I had violated the spirit. The regulatory framework under which the rules on visitors were established did not recognize that some fraternity members might be gay.
There’s a word for the phenomenon characterized in the previous paragraphs: heteronormativity.** In these cases, heteronormativity set heterosexuality as the baseline framework for these rules, not acknowledging the existence of non-heterosexual people. As demonstrated, heteronormativity can create some pretty comically glaring loopholes.
*The loopholes in the first two examples of rules were closed shortly after I started high school. In two separate purity talks, I received two messages: (1) it didn’t matter whether it was women or men that one lusted after, and (2) oral sex was also a legitimate candidate for “sex before marriage”. The first message definitively clarified that the images and videos I looked at counted as “pornography”; and the second moved all the gray-area sex acts to the “need-to-wait-until-I’m-married” bucket.
**I remember when I first learned the word “heteronormativity” during my second semester of college. As soon as the professor uttered the word, I immediately knew its definition before she provided it. I was all too familiar with the concept.
Friday, December 27, 2019
Saturday, November 9, 2019
I didn't vote on Tuesday
Tuesday, November 5 was Election Day. There were no national elections (unfortunately); the items on the ballot were municipal offices and various local propositions. It was the first election that I've been eligible to vote in that I didn't vote.
My reason for not voting is kind of silly: the election simply slipped my mind. Tuesday was a rather busy day for me; I had to reschedule an appointment in the morning because I had too much else going on that day. I had a lunchtime talk to attend; I had a two-hour job interview immediately after the talk; then I had to come home and pack to catch a flight out of OAK for a client meeting the next day. The time window in which I could have voted was rather slim, especially given that I was trying to work enough to reasonably be considered a full work day.
I received my vote-by-mail ballot several weeks ago and set it aside because it wasn't urgent. Typically the weekend before the election, I pull out the voter information packet, read the detailed summaries of the candidates and/or propositions, and then make informed decisions on each item (or, at least non-uninformed decisions). I consider this procedure a prerequisite for voting; I think it is irresponsible to vote on ballot items that I know nothing about. Of course I could be more informed; in the weeks leading up to the election, I could participate in the local meetings and rallies in which the strengths, shortcomings, and implications of the ballot items are discussed. But I like to think that simply reading through the voter information packet is more effort than the average voter takes, and so for that I give myself kudos.
I digress. In the week leading up to the election, I was in Montreal and Boston on vacation. I returned home the Saturday night before Election Day. If I had had better forethought, I would have brought the voter information packet with me on my trip, but that also slipped my mind. Sunday was also unexpectedly busy--I hosted friends in the afternoon to play board games and then attended an event in Berkeley in the evening. On Monday, I remembered that Election Day was the following day, but I was preparing for my Tuesday interview.
The result of all these excuses was that I didn't vote. And I know that this represents a squandering of a treasured privilege that billions of people around the world only dream of having. So perhaps I should feel more guilty than I do for not voting. But there's nothing I can do about it now. So I'm moving on.
My reason for not voting is kind of silly: the election simply slipped my mind. Tuesday was a rather busy day for me; I had to reschedule an appointment in the morning because I had too much else going on that day. I had a lunchtime talk to attend; I had a two-hour job interview immediately after the talk; then I had to come home and pack to catch a flight out of OAK for a client meeting the next day. The time window in which I could have voted was rather slim, especially given that I was trying to work enough to reasonably be considered a full work day.
I received my vote-by-mail ballot several weeks ago and set it aside because it wasn't urgent. Typically the weekend before the election, I pull out the voter information packet, read the detailed summaries of the candidates and/or propositions, and then make informed decisions on each item (or, at least non-uninformed decisions). I consider this procedure a prerequisite for voting; I think it is irresponsible to vote on ballot items that I know nothing about. Of course I could be more informed; in the weeks leading up to the election, I could participate in the local meetings and rallies in which the strengths, shortcomings, and implications of the ballot items are discussed. But I like to think that simply reading through the voter information packet is more effort than the average voter takes, and so for that I give myself kudos.
I digress. In the week leading up to the election, I was in Montreal and Boston on vacation. I returned home the Saturday night before Election Day. If I had had better forethought, I would have brought the voter information packet with me on my trip, but that also slipped my mind. Sunday was also unexpectedly busy--I hosted friends in the afternoon to play board games and then attended an event in Berkeley in the evening. On Monday, I remembered that Election Day was the following day, but I was preparing for my Tuesday interview.
The result of all these excuses was that I didn't vote. And I know that this represents a squandering of a treasured privilege that billions of people around the world only dream of having. So perhaps I should feel more guilty than I do for not voting. But there's nothing I can do about it now. So I'm moving on.
Thursday, August 8, 2019
A Plebeian's Airline Market Analysis
Two days ago, I flew roundtrip on Southwest Airlines from San Francisco to Ontario, CA* (SFO-ONT). Southwest just began operating this route in June 2019, competing with United Airlines, the only airline to previously offer non-stop service between SFO and ONT.
Because United essentially had a monopoly on the route, airfares were previously exorbitant: between $400 and $500 for a roundtrip Economy ticket purchased within two weeks of departure. That's between about $0.55/mile and $0.68/mile. For comparison, in 2018, my average for 41,623 total miles of business travel (fares usually purchased within two weeks) was $0.18/mile. Southwest's entry into the SFO-ONT market promised a fare reduction; and indeed, the roundtrip Economy ticket I purchased from Southwest 18 days in advance was $172. Out of curiosity, I also checked United's roundtrip fares for the same dates. They had dropped to between $200 and $300. The "Southwest effect" had struck again. Behold, the market economy.
Southwest is unlike other U.S. airlines in that seats cannot be reserved. Instead, passengers claim seats on a first-come-first-serve basis upon boarding. Thus, what matters when flying Southwest is boarding order, which is assigned based on check-in order. On full flights, dozens of passengers are at their computers exactly 24 hours in advance of the scheduled departure time to check in and receive a good boarding position. Even if you clicked "submit" just as the second hand passed the 12, you still might end up with, say, boarding position B13 on a very full flight.
Just over 24 hours before each of my scheduled departure times, I prepared to check in as soon as the minute struck. Due to my unfamiliarity with the user interface of the recently-downloaded Southwest app, I missed the 24:00:00 mark by somewhere between 15 and 30 seconds in both cases. Nevertheless, I managed to secure boarding positions A21 and A19. (Positions A1 through A15 are reserved for higher fare classes, which are not always sold, so I did pretty well.)
As I boarded each of the flights, I found out why my boarding positions were so good. The SFO-ONT segment had 44 ticketed passengers for a 143-seat aircraft, and the ONT-SFO segment had 27 ticketed passengers for a 143-seat aircraft. "Which row do you want?" I joked to my coworker. Annoyingly, on the return segment, I took a window seat in the third row, and someone sat in the aisle of the same row. Just...why? When you could take any other aisle seat? Introvert problems.
I have to wonder if the route is profitable for Southwest, or what their strategy is for continuing to operate that route. I assume that Southwest did their homework and conducted plenty of market research before deciding that it would be a good business decision to allocate an aircraft to that route. Also, it's not as if Southwest is offering limited service on this route; they offer four flights each way on weekdays. (United offers six.) There is something to be said for undercutting United; or perhaps Southwest is playing a long game with the ultimate hope that United passengers will gradually shift over; or perhaps Southwest believes the route will grow in popularity. Still, at least in the short term, it seems like a sub-optimal use of an aircraft, especially given that Southwest was hit hard by the grounding of the Boeing 737 MAX. It seems that Southwest should instead want to cover more popular routes previously served by the MAX with whatever non-MAX equipment it has.
It's also possible that the new route hasn't been around long enough for Southwest's market capture to be fully understood or realized. If, for example, the target market of this route is leisure travelers, then it would take more time to observe the popularity of the route. Leisure travelers are more likely to purchase flight tickets several months in advance to get lower fares; perhaps the two months that the route has been operated is shorter than the expected purchase lead time.
But, hey, I'm not complaining. As long as Southwest keeps operating this route, and I continue to travel down to ONT, I'll keep flying with them over United, if for no reason other than the fares are cheaper.
* Yes, Ontario, CA exists--it is a suburban city in the Inland Empire (i.e., San Bernardino/Riverside area) with painfully hot summers, the largest shopping mall in San Bernardino County, no downtown, and no real ability to get around without a car. This begs the question: why would I even go there? Because ONT, the local airport, is one of my clients. The city of Ontario has nothing to offer that would attract me to it otherwise. Consequently, it's probably safe to say that there's no way I'd pay to fly to ONT out of my own pocket, unless the airfare plus the last-mile (or last-dozens-of-miles-to-get-where-I'd-actually-want-to-go-ugh-suburban-sprawl-am-I-right) costs were substantially cheaper than an alternative Southern California airport that might be closer to my destination.
Because United essentially had a monopoly on the route, airfares were previously exorbitant: between $400 and $500 for a roundtrip Economy ticket purchased within two weeks of departure. That's between about $0.55/mile and $0.68/mile. For comparison, in 2018, my average for 41,623 total miles of business travel (fares usually purchased within two weeks) was $0.18/mile. Southwest's entry into the SFO-ONT market promised a fare reduction; and indeed, the roundtrip Economy ticket I purchased from Southwest 18 days in advance was $172. Out of curiosity, I also checked United's roundtrip fares for the same dates. They had dropped to between $200 and $300. The "Southwest effect" had struck again. Behold, the market economy.
Southwest is unlike other U.S. airlines in that seats cannot be reserved. Instead, passengers claim seats on a first-come-first-serve basis upon boarding. Thus, what matters when flying Southwest is boarding order, which is assigned based on check-in order. On full flights, dozens of passengers are at their computers exactly 24 hours in advance of the scheduled departure time to check in and receive a good boarding position. Even if you clicked "submit" just as the second hand passed the 12, you still might end up with, say, boarding position B13 on a very full flight.
Just over 24 hours before each of my scheduled departure times, I prepared to check in as soon as the minute struck. Due to my unfamiliarity with the user interface of the recently-downloaded Southwest app, I missed the 24:00:00 mark by somewhere between 15 and 30 seconds in both cases. Nevertheless, I managed to secure boarding positions A21 and A19. (Positions A1 through A15 are reserved for higher fare classes, which are not always sold, so I did pretty well.)
As I boarded each of the flights, I found out why my boarding positions were so good. The SFO-ONT segment had 44 ticketed passengers for a 143-seat aircraft, and the ONT-SFO segment had 27 ticketed passengers for a 143-seat aircraft. "Which row do you want?" I joked to my coworker. Annoyingly, on the return segment, I took a window seat in the third row, and someone sat in the aisle of the same row. Just...why? When you could take any other aisle seat? Introvert problems.
I have to wonder if the route is profitable for Southwest, or what their strategy is for continuing to operate that route. I assume that Southwest did their homework and conducted plenty of market research before deciding that it would be a good business decision to allocate an aircraft to that route. Also, it's not as if Southwest is offering limited service on this route; they offer four flights each way on weekdays. (United offers six.) There is something to be said for undercutting United; or perhaps Southwest is playing a long game with the ultimate hope that United passengers will gradually shift over; or perhaps Southwest believes the route will grow in popularity. Still, at least in the short term, it seems like a sub-optimal use of an aircraft, especially given that Southwest was hit hard by the grounding of the Boeing 737 MAX. It seems that Southwest should instead want to cover more popular routes previously served by the MAX with whatever non-MAX equipment it has.
It's also possible that the new route hasn't been around long enough for Southwest's market capture to be fully understood or realized. If, for example, the target market of this route is leisure travelers, then it would take more time to observe the popularity of the route. Leisure travelers are more likely to purchase flight tickets several months in advance to get lower fares; perhaps the two months that the route has been operated is shorter than the expected purchase lead time.
But, hey, I'm not complaining. As long as Southwest keeps operating this route, and I continue to travel down to ONT, I'll keep flying with them over United, if for no reason other than the fares are cheaper.
* Yes, Ontario, CA exists--it is a suburban city in the Inland Empire (i.e., San Bernardino/Riverside area) with painfully hot summers, the largest shopping mall in San Bernardino County, no downtown, and no real ability to get around without a car. This begs the question: why would I even go there? Because ONT, the local airport, is one of my clients. The city of Ontario has nothing to offer that would attract me to it otherwise. Consequently, it's probably safe to say that there's no way I'd pay to fly to ONT out of my own pocket, unless the airfare plus the last-mile (or last-dozens-of-miles-to-get-where-I'd-actually-want-to-go-ugh-suburban-sprawl-am-I-right) costs were substantially cheaper than an alternative Southern California airport that might be closer to my destination.
Friday, July 19, 2019
The life and times of July 2019
Recently, I had an experience which seems to be emblematic of being gay in the 21st century.
A guy who was visiting San Francisco from New York said hello to me on Grindr. I thought he was at least acceptably cute, so I decided to bite. Fortuitously, he turned out to be rather engaging. To preserve my phone battery, I gave him my phone number. Upon receipt of his message, things got interesting.
It turned out that he and I already had a text message history. So I instantly knew who he was, and I also knew certain other…um…anatomical details about him. Two years ago, he was visiting the area from Chicago and staying in a hotel near my work. (No, I don’t delete historical text messages, to the detriment of my phone’s storage capacity.) We had similarly connected on Grindr and had migrated to text messages, forming plans to meet up that evening. At the time, I was single, but was very much on the trajectory toward a relationship with X. X invited me over for dinner that night; I declined, saying that I had already made plans.
On that afternoon in May 2017, I texted him as I was leaving work and going to the gym, asking for an update on his timing. This was the conversation:
Me, 5:43 PM: “Let me know your timing. I just got to the gym.”
Me, 6:36 PM: “Done. Gonna shower. What’s up with you?”
Him, 6:39 PM: “Hey bud. I’m about to leave work.”
Me, 6:39 PM: “Ok. Where should I meet you?”
Him, 6:45 PM: “I still need to shower.”
Me, 6:45 PM: “Do you want me to meet you at the hotel?”
I was getting frustrated at this point with his inability to answer simple questions promptly.
Him, 7:10 PM: “Would you mind if we do tomorrow – I’m exhausted AF. And I don’t want to disappoint.”
When I received this message, I was running an errand at Walgreens, killing time while awaiting his response. After a 25-minute delay, he flaked without having the balls to say he was flaking. Immediately I texted X and said I could come over that evening, to which his response was approximately, “You were going on a date, weren’t you?”
But this other guy kept trying:
Him, 7:49 PM: “Lol. My SF coworker wants to smoke. #fly[emoji]skies”
Him, 8:15 PM: “Wait can you even host”
What a mess.
Return to present-day. Given this chat history, I was able to infer that in the last two years, this guy had moved from Chicago to New York. I was also able to infer his propensity to flake. Immediately the tone of my conversation with him stiffened up.
I eventually learned his alleged story from that evening two years ago. He got both drunk and high with his coworkers at the hotel and managed to drop his phone in the hot tub. He apparently really wanted to meet me, but I never heard from him again because he lost my contact information.
Incidentally, the day on which we reconnected was my two-year anniversary with X.
I say this experience is emblematic of being gay in the 21st century for the following reasons:
- Connections are often made over gay social networking apps such as Grindr
- Dick pics are frequently shared before personal contact is made
- Alcohol and marijuana are key players
- Meetups are canceled all the time because someone flaked
- Even while in a relationship, Grindr is still a meaningful tool
* * *
Earlier this week, my friend’s dad passed away. From what I gathered from Facebook, he had Stage IV bone cancer which had been completely undetected before. It all happened very suddenly: he spent several weeks in the hospital and underwent a couple successful surgeries, suggesting that he might pull through. After a couple days, I decided to check for updates on Facebook, and I learned that he passed that day.
This friend is a friend from high school, so I’ve known her for almost 12 years. I was also friends with her older brother, with whom I worked at many years of summer camps. Their family is extremely Christian.
I don’t pray anymore, but after hearing he passed, I felt a strange urge to ask other people I knew to pray for the family. I don’t know what it means that I instinctively thought to ask others to pray. But it is telling that I didn’t think that I should pray for them. Perhaps it’s that I know the family would feel supported with other people praying for them, regardless of the ineffectiveness of prayer to change outcomes.
I suppose that although prayer does not change outcomes, it can change outlook. Even when I believed, I knew that prayer was definitely not for God’s benefit, because God was already all-powerful. Consequently, I deduced that prayer primarily provided benefit for the person praying. I observed the transformative power of prayer in myself in several instances over the next couple years, mostly related to learning how to forgive people. Praying for someone who hurt me was quite effective at gradually chipping away my bitterness.
All that is to say is that this week, I realized prayer is basically a distorted version of mindfulness. I say “distorted” because of the premise behind prayer, which is communication with a supernatural, personal deity. But who am I to say that such a form of mindfulness is unacceptable? If people who pray receive benefit from it, then is it that misguided of an activity?
* * *
Also this last week, this local news story conveyed that the City of Berkeley municipal code was updated to include more “gender-inclusive” terminology. Selected semantic changes include:
“Manhole” replaced with “maintenance hole”
“Manpower” replaced with “human effort”
“Fraternity” replaced with “collegiate Greek system residence”
“Manmade” replaced with “human-made” or “machine-made”
“Pregnant” replaced with “pregnant employee”
“Master” replaced with “captain”
“Sportsman” replaced with “hunter”
“Sister” or “brother” replaced with “sibling”
Now, I’m all for gender inclusivity, but some of these seem to either mischaracterize or alter the definition of the original word.
“Fraternity”, for instance, is by definition an all-male collegiate Greek system residence. Removing the “all-male” component from the description fundamentally changes the nature of the item being described. Using the word “fraternity” is not gender-exclusive; what fraternities are is gender-exclusive. In fact, not acknowledging that fraternities are inherently discriminatory organizations by changing the title actually calls attention away from the real issue. (I also have to wonder if “sorority” was also changed to “collegiate Greek system residence”.)
“Machine-made” is not a synonym for “manmade”. To me, “manmade” suggests that something was made by some combination of manual labor and machine labor. The manual labor portion must be strictly greater than 0%, up to 100%, and the machine labor portion can be 0% or greater, but strictly less than 100%. Machine-made suggests that something was 100% made via machine labor. It’s a subtle difference, but the change implies that “human-made” and “machine-made” are equivalent. (Although, machines themselves are “human-made”, so I suppose if something is machine-made, it is also indirectly “human-made”.)
Similar to fraternity, “pregnant” is by definition associated with a biological woman. Tacking “employee” after it does not change its feminine association. Using the word “pregnant” is not gender-exclusive; how pregnant women are treated in the workplace is gender-exclusive. Changing “pregnant” to “pregnant employee” is similar to defining a word by using that word; the original issue addressed isn’t solved.
“Master” and “captain” are not synonyms, full stop. It’s also unclear if the City of Berkeley was intending to just do a Control + h in their documentation. If so, sentences such as, “A city planner must be a master of concepts in land-use policy, traffic engineering, and environmental review” become somewhat meaningless. I’d have to assume that the replacement would only apply to titles of people. (But then what about “Master of Science”? Ah, whatever.)
Beyond the individual cases, however, some of these just seem like a lot of unnecessary effort. “Maintenance hole” is twice as long as “manhole” in terms of number of syllables, as is “collegiate Greek system residence” to “fraternity”. I have to wonder…were people asking for these changes, or was this a preemptive signaling effort? Do non-binary people really feel safer in the workplace if “human effort” is used in lieu of “manpower”?
Finally, I suppose I should reveal the true reason I’m so critical of this change. It frustrates me that the Bay Area, and especially the city of Berkeley, a college town, is facing a major housing crisis, and yet I can only imagine the number of meetings that were held tying up city employees to discuss this. Would it not have been better if those efforts had been channeled into support for citywide initiatives to allow high-density residential buildings and duplex/triplex/fourplex development on single-family home lots? I mean, priorities.
A guy who was visiting San Francisco from New York said hello to me on Grindr. I thought he was at least acceptably cute, so I decided to bite. Fortuitously, he turned out to be rather engaging. To preserve my phone battery, I gave him my phone number. Upon receipt of his message, things got interesting.
It turned out that he and I already had a text message history. So I instantly knew who he was, and I also knew certain other…um…anatomical details about him. Two years ago, he was visiting the area from Chicago and staying in a hotel near my work. (No, I don’t delete historical text messages, to the detriment of my phone’s storage capacity.) We had similarly connected on Grindr and had migrated to text messages, forming plans to meet up that evening. At the time, I was single, but was very much on the trajectory toward a relationship with X. X invited me over for dinner that night; I declined, saying that I had already made plans.
On that afternoon in May 2017, I texted him as I was leaving work and going to the gym, asking for an update on his timing. This was the conversation:
Me, 5:43 PM: “Let me know your timing. I just got to the gym.”
Me, 6:36 PM: “Done. Gonna shower. What’s up with you?”
Him, 6:39 PM: “Hey bud. I’m about to leave work.”
Me, 6:39 PM: “Ok. Where should I meet you?”
Him, 6:45 PM: “I still need to shower.”
Me, 6:45 PM: “Do you want me to meet you at the hotel?”
I was getting frustrated at this point with his inability to answer simple questions promptly.
Him, 7:10 PM: “Would you mind if we do tomorrow – I’m exhausted AF. And I don’t want to disappoint.”
When I received this message, I was running an errand at Walgreens, killing time while awaiting his response. After a 25-minute delay, he flaked without having the balls to say he was flaking. Immediately I texted X and said I could come over that evening, to which his response was approximately, “You were going on a date, weren’t you?”
But this other guy kept trying:
Him, 7:49 PM: “Lol. My SF coworker wants to smoke. #fly[emoji]skies”
Him, 8:15 PM: “Wait can you even host”
What a mess.
Return to present-day. Given this chat history, I was able to infer that in the last two years, this guy had moved from Chicago to New York. I was also able to infer his propensity to flake. Immediately the tone of my conversation with him stiffened up.
I eventually learned his alleged story from that evening two years ago. He got both drunk and high with his coworkers at the hotel and managed to drop his phone in the hot tub. He apparently really wanted to meet me, but I never heard from him again because he lost my contact information.
Incidentally, the day on which we reconnected was my two-year anniversary with X.
I say this experience is emblematic of being gay in the 21st century for the following reasons:
- Connections are often made over gay social networking apps such as Grindr
- Dick pics are frequently shared before personal contact is made
- Alcohol and marijuana are key players
- Meetups are canceled all the time because someone flaked
- Even while in a relationship, Grindr is still a meaningful tool
* * *
Earlier this week, my friend’s dad passed away. From what I gathered from Facebook, he had Stage IV bone cancer which had been completely undetected before. It all happened very suddenly: he spent several weeks in the hospital and underwent a couple successful surgeries, suggesting that he might pull through. After a couple days, I decided to check for updates on Facebook, and I learned that he passed that day.
This friend is a friend from high school, so I’ve known her for almost 12 years. I was also friends with her older brother, with whom I worked at many years of summer camps. Their family is extremely Christian.
I don’t pray anymore, but after hearing he passed, I felt a strange urge to ask other people I knew to pray for the family. I don’t know what it means that I instinctively thought to ask others to pray. But it is telling that I didn’t think that I should pray for them. Perhaps it’s that I know the family would feel supported with other people praying for them, regardless of the ineffectiveness of prayer to change outcomes.
I suppose that although prayer does not change outcomes, it can change outlook. Even when I believed, I knew that prayer was definitely not for God’s benefit, because God was already all-powerful. Consequently, I deduced that prayer primarily provided benefit for the person praying. I observed the transformative power of prayer in myself in several instances over the next couple years, mostly related to learning how to forgive people. Praying for someone who hurt me was quite effective at gradually chipping away my bitterness.
All that is to say is that this week, I realized prayer is basically a distorted version of mindfulness. I say “distorted” because of the premise behind prayer, which is communication with a supernatural, personal deity. But who am I to say that such a form of mindfulness is unacceptable? If people who pray receive benefit from it, then is it that misguided of an activity?
* * *
Also this last week, this local news story conveyed that the City of Berkeley municipal code was updated to include more “gender-inclusive” terminology. Selected semantic changes include:
“Manhole” replaced with “maintenance hole”
“Manpower” replaced with “human effort”
“Fraternity” replaced with “collegiate Greek system residence”
“Manmade” replaced with “human-made” or “machine-made”
“Pregnant” replaced with “pregnant employee”
“Master” replaced with “captain”
“Sportsman” replaced with “hunter”
“Sister” or “brother” replaced with “sibling”
Now, I’m all for gender inclusivity, but some of these seem to either mischaracterize or alter the definition of the original word.
“Fraternity”, for instance, is by definition an all-male collegiate Greek system residence. Removing the “all-male” component from the description fundamentally changes the nature of the item being described. Using the word “fraternity” is not gender-exclusive; what fraternities are is gender-exclusive. In fact, not acknowledging that fraternities are inherently discriminatory organizations by changing the title actually calls attention away from the real issue. (I also have to wonder if “sorority” was also changed to “collegiate Greek system residence”.)
“Machine-made” is not a synonym for “manmade”. To me, “manmade” suggests that something was made by some combination of manual labor and machine labor. The manual labor portion must be strictly greater than 0%, up to 100%, and the machine labor portion can be 0% or greater, but strictly less than 100%. Machine-made suggests that something was 100% made via machine labor. It’s a subtle difference, but the change implies that “human-made” and “machine-made” are equivalent. (Although, machines themselves are “human-made”, so I suppose if something is machine-made, it is also indirectly “human-made”.)
Similar to fraternity, “pregnant” is by definition associated with a biological woman. Tacking “employee” after it does not change its feminine association. Using the word “pregnant” is not gender-exclusive; how pregnant women are treated in the workplace is gender-exclusive. Changing “pregnant” to “pregnant employee” is similar to defining a word by using that word; the original issue addressed isn’t solved.
“Master” and “captain” are not synonyms, full stop. It’s also unclear if the City of Berkeley was intending to just do a Control + h in their documentation. If so, sentences such as, “A city planner must be a master of concepts in land-use policy, traffic engineering, and environmental review” become somewhat meaningless. I’d have to assume that the replacement would only apply to titles of people. (But then what about “Master of Science”? Ah, whatever.)
Beyond the individual cases, however, some of these just seem like a lot of unnecessary effort. “Maintenance hole” is twice as long as “manhole” in terms of number of syllables, as is “collegiate Greek system residence” to “fraternity”. I have to wonder…were people asking for these changes, or was this a preemptive signaling effort? Do non-binary people really feel safer in the workplace if “human effort” is used in lieu of “manpower”?
Finally, I suppose I should reveal the true reason I’m so critical of this change. It frustrates me that the Bay Area, and especially the city of Berkeley, a college town, is facing a major housing crisis, and yet I can only imagine the number of meetings that were held tying up city employees to discuss this. Would it not have been better if those efforts had been channeled into support for citywide initiatives to allow high-density residential buildings and duplex/triplex/fourplex development on single-family home lots? I mean, priorities.
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
On RuPaul's Drag Race
As of the show’s most recent season (11), I am current on RuPaul’s Drag Race. I’m not sure whether that’s something to be proud of, but…it is what it is. Furthermore, I have formed a wealth of opinions about quite a bit of the show’s contestants and outcomes. I don’t know what it says about me that I’ve taken the time to craft opinions about the obviously manipulated and produced happenings of a reality television show. But, again, it is what it is. And I suppose that having opinions on the show indicates that I have achieved the goal I set out to accomplish when I began watching the show: to become gay culturally literate.
What follow are various rankings, evaluations, and streams of consciousness I have developed about the show. The regular seasons in which the named contestants competed are denoted by “S” followed by the season number; similarly, All Stars seasons are denoted with “AS” followed by the All Stars season number.
Oh yeah, I guess I should also say there are series spoilers, so watch out if you’re not current.
* * *
On Tops and Bottoms
In this section, I provide lists of my favorites and least favorites in various categories.
FAVORITE QUEENS: TOP FIVE
Bianca del Rio (S6), Alaska (S5, AS2), Detox (S5, AS2), Manila Luzon (S3, AS1, AS4), Sharon Needles (S4)
FAVORITE QUEENS: HONORABLE MENTIONS
Raven (S2, AS1), Nina Flowers (S1, AS1), Trinity Taylor (S9, AS4), BenDeLaCreme (S6, AS3), Katya (S7, AS2)
LEAST FAVORITE QUEENS: BOTTOM FIVE
Serena ChaCha (S5), Gia Gunn (S6, AS4), Farrah Moan (S9, AS4), Kenya Michaels (S4), Mimi Imfurst (S3, AS1)
LEAST FAVORITE QUEENS: DISHONORABLE MENTIONS
Ra’Jah O’Hara (S11), Milk (S6, AS3), Cynthia Lee Fontaine (S8, S9), Tyra Sanchez (S2), Coco Montrese (S5, AS2)
Note: “least favorite” is really a proxy for “most annoying”.
TOP FIVE LIP SYNCS
Alyssa Edwards vs. Tatianna: “Shut Up and Drive”, Rihanna (AS2)
Brooke Lynn Hytes vs. Yvie Oddly: “Sorry Not Sorry”, Demi Lovato (S11)
Sasha Velour vs. Shea Coulee: “So Emotional”, Whitney Houston (S9)
Jinkx Monsoon vs. Detox: “Malambo No. 1”, Yma Sumac (S5)
Carmen Carrera vs. Raja: “Straight Up”, Paula Abdul (S3)
TOP FIVE SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Alaska as Mae West (AS2)
Adore Delano as Anna Nicole Smith (S6)
Pandora Boxx as Carol Channing (S2)
BenDeLaCreme as Maggie Smith (S6)
Tatianna as Britney Spears (S2)
Kennedy Davenport as Little Richard (S7)
Chad Michaels as Cher (S4)
Yeah, I know there's seven and not five. Too bad.
* * *
On Incorrect Judgments
In this section, I list the contestants and Snatch Game performances that I think are most mismatched with their evaluation. Specifically, I list the five most overrated and the five most underrated in each category. The referenced “rating” is not necessarily just how the judges evaluated the contestant; it may also include contestants or Snatch Game performances that have largely been forgotten in Drag Race discourse and lore, either for how good or how bad they were.
TOP FIVE MOST OVERRATED QUEENS
Pearl (S7): The most egregious case of the producers deliberately trying to create a season-long character arc. Pearl was dull and apathetic, completely undeserving of her placement as runner-up to Violet Chachki. In her lip sync against Trixie Mattel early in Season 7, Trixie was told to sashay away, even though she gave a much more engaging lip sync performance than Pearl. (When Trixie returned later in the season, the fact that she was not immediately eliminated was a clear indication that she had been prematurely eliminated.) Instead, the judges gave her tons of grace: she did not cinch her waist for any of her runway looks, whereas on the previous season, Adore Delano was read to filth for not cinching. Week after week, Pearl received free passes because the producers wanted to create the character arc of the “sleepy” contestant that “woke up” and came from behind.
Coco Montrese (S5, AS2): The crybaby of Season 5. Week after week, she had a piss poor attitude with which she continuously shot herself in the foot. Yet she was likely kept around to maintain the feud between her and Alyssa Edwards to generate on-screen drama. She was in the bottom two four times on her season, more than any other contestant in a regular season, after which she was finally eliminated. Her drag was a far cry from noteworthy, and she kept repeating to the judges that she would give more the next time. That characteristic followed her into All Stars 2 when, after she was eliminated in the first episode and was informed of a future potential for “revenge”, she responded with, “Oh, I’m not holding back”. Why did she not before when she actually had the chance? And, not surprisingly, she was not offered a chance to return later in the season.
Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (S10, S11): The meme. Because that’s about all she had to contribute to the show. Her entire personality consisted of yakking and being extra. Her style week after week consisted of a swimsuit-cut outfit with glitter across the top of her chest. She was heavily criticized at times for both of these things, but she managed to ride the producers’ “redemption story” arc to fifth place on Season 11. She should have been eliminated in her lip sync against Plastique Tiara…and then again in her lip sync against Shuga Cain. She definitely did not deserve to place higher than Nina West. Were it not for her hilarious “Miss…Vaaaaanjie” exit in the first episode of Season 10, she would not have been offered a chance to return in Season 11 at all.
BeBe Zahara Benet (S1, AS3): The original winner of the series. My opinion is that she only won her regular season by chance: she happened to be up for elimination against Ongina, and BeBe saved herself by giving a better lip sync. Even though Ongina was a better queen overall who could do more than “giving face” (BeBe’s self-proclaimed specialty), Ongina was eliminated and BeBe stayed. BeBe’s lack of versatility became apparent when she was very strangely offered a spot in the cast of All Stars 3. She did not excel and was merely safe week after week (“consistent”, as she called it). While I think the method of selecting the top two in All Stars 3 was terrible, I think BeBe’s exclusion from the selection was the correct decision.
Valentina (S9, AS4): The Season 9 contestant that viewers thought was beautiful in and out of drag. I don’t know, I don’t think she’s that cute as a boy. When she competed on Season 9, both viewers and the judges ate her up. But I was not particularly impressed by her. The judges’ clear favoritism toward her was perhaps most apparent when she wore a wedding dress for the White Party runway theme and somehow won. She also makes this list because of her elimination lip sync fiasco: you do not get to be a serious contender without preparing your lip sync. In All Stars 4, her delusional nature came to the forefront (“My process is what makes me a star”, “Me being eliminated doesn’t happen in my fantasy”), and her head got so far up her ass that Naomi Smalls had to bail her out and save Club 96 from being a complete disaster.
TOP FIVE MOST UNDERRATED QUEENS
Lineysha Sparx (S5): Lineysha was a stunning contestant who was ultimately eliminated because English was not her first language. She should have won the first challenge of her season with her gorgeous wallpaper dress instead of Roxxxy Andrews. The Snatch Game, which requires intimate knowledge of mainstream American celebrities, American-style humor, and improvisation within the English language, was her demise. No one on her season seemed to take her seriously because of her difficulty with English. Even RuPaul did not take Lineysha seriously, making jokes throughout Season 5 about her struggle with English, which was nothing less than painful to watch.
Mrs. Kasha Davis (S7): Mrs. Kasha Davis was a fun, campy contestant who embodies what I think of when I think of classical drag. Classical drag queens are first and foremost comedic entertainers, right down to the appearance (where you can tell that the queen is obviously a man dressed as a woman with overemphasized femininity). In my opinion, because Mrs. Kasha Davis hails from a more classical drag style, she was simply cast at the wrong point in the series. Beginning with the victory of Sharon Needles in Season 4, Drag Race eschewed convention and demonstrated the possibility of victory for contestants that did not necessarily embody the pathos of classical drag. By Season 7, Drag Race had become somewhat of an empire following the successes of Seasons 5 and 6. Contestants were more likely to consider themselves “artists” with a defined “aesthetic”, which seemed to almost become a requirement for success on the show (examples: Violet Chachki, Sasha Velour, Aquaria, Yvie Oddly). Mrs. Kasha Davis’ style of drag doesn’t need to operate at that level of sophistication, which is perhaps why she was eliminated when she was given the series’ evolution.
Scarlet Envy (S11): Scarlet was incorrectly eliminated so that Ra’Jah O’Hara could be retained strictly to create drama in Season 11. Her bottom-two placement in the episode in which she was eliminated was questionable to begin with. Her self-proclaimed strengths lied in her acting abilities, which we only got to observe once, and for which she won a challenge. She should have been on Season 11 longer.
Ginger Minj (S7, AS2): It’s true that Ginger Minj placed highly in her season as one of the runners-up for the Season 7 crown. However, I say she was underrated because out of the Season 7 top three, she should have won. When she returned for All Stars 2, she was only around for three episodes before being inexplicably put into the bottom two in the “Herstory of the World” episode. As painful as it would have been, Alyssa Edwards should have eliminated Katya instead of Ginger Minj based on how the two of them performed in that challenge.
DiDa Ritz (S4): Technically, DiDa Ritz placed in sixth on Season 4 (although realistically, she placed fifth if we ignore the eyeroll-worthy mess that was the reentry of Kenya Michaels). While on the show, I found her personality quite charming. The judges (and even the other contestants) read her for her runway looks, which they claimed were unpolished. However, I never found substantial fault with her looks, and the judges had certainly accepted less from other contestants. Also, she gave one of the most energetic and entertaining lip sync performances in the entire series to Natalie Cole’s “This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)”. After her time on the show, DiDa Ritz took a long break from drag and largely seemed to fade out of the Drag Race consciousness. Apparently, however, she has since begun performing again.
TOP FIVE MOST OVERRATED SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Trinity K. Bonet as Nicki Minaj (S6): I still do not understand how she was safe after this challenge, even avoiding judges’ critiques entirely. She did not make a single joke in her performance. The most interesting thing she did was change wigs, but she followed that up by giving that as her excuse for not even having an answer to a question. And, as Bianca del Rio put it, “Wig changes! How original! Chad Michaels, how many years ago?”
Eureka as Honey Boo Boo (S10): All her answers were literally scribbles. In addition to delivering a one-note performance, Eureka avoided the need to be clever, quick, and witty—which is the entire point of the Snatch Game—by answering with scribbling. Yet the judges ate her performance up, and she was undeservingly in the top.
Raja as Tyra Banks (S3): Raja’s performance as Tyra Banks relied on two themes: “smising” and “I hate Naomi Campbell!” Each had enough comedic value for at most one joke, but both were repeated, making them both stale. In addition, both jokes were executed in an overexaggerated way: Raja drew blood underneath her eyes from too much “smising”, and she stood up and screamed, “Naomi Campbell is a ************** whore!” Raja still managed to be in the top, perhaps because no contestants were any good on Season 3’s Snatch Game.
Thorgy Thor as Michael Jackson (S8): I suspect Thorgy chose to do a male celebrity following Kennedy Davenport’s unparalleled success as Little Richard. But if you’re going to do a male celebrity, your performance had better be way funnier than the other contestants’. Thorgy’s was not. Yet somehow, the judges praised her and she was in the top.
Bob the Drag Queen as Uzo Aduba/Carol Channing (S8): Yeah, it was funny, but neither celebrity portrayal was legendary. Pandora Boxx did a much funnier Carol Channing. I think if Bob had focused more effort on doing only one of these celebrities, her Snatch Game performance could have been better. I suspect Bob won because her competition in the Snatch Game was pretty mediocre, and by that point, Season 8 was already “The Bob Show”. To Bob’s credit, however, this was the first time on the show that a contestant changed celebrities mid-Snatch Game. I think the fact that Bob delivered two celebrities in above-average performances is what makes her Snatch Game performance an icon of Drag Race lore.
TOP FIVE MOST UNDERRATED SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Pearl as Big Ang (S7): Admittedly, if Pearl had been eliminated when she should have been, we would never have gotten this performance. Pearl’s Big Ang was hysterical, landing multiple jokes with excellent comedic timing. Honestly, I thought she surpassed Katya’s Suze Orman. Yet Pearl received no acknowledgment from the judges of her performance, being immediately declared “safe”.
Nina Bo’Nina Brown as Jasmine Masters (S9): One of Nina Bo’Nina Brown’s few shining moments in Season 9, her Snatch Game performance as Jasmine Masters is one of my favorites in the entire series. Unfortunately, Nina’s self-deprecating attitude remains attached to her reputation in the Drag Race lore rather than her high points, so her excellence in this performance has been predominantly forgotten. She did, however, receive praise from the judges in the episode, which was well-earned.
Detox as Nancy Grace (AS2): I don’t know, I thought Detox’s Nancy Grace was funny. The performance was arguably somewhat one-note (“Where’s the body?”), but Detox did manage to interact with the other celebrities and land a great pun on the word “match”. I do not think she deserved to be up for elimination in the bottom three because of this performance.
Shea Coulee as Naomi Campbell (S9): Shea Coulee’s Naomi Campbell was funny, but Shea was only declared “safe”. As a thought experiment, I think it would be highly entertaining to watch Shea’s Naomi Campbell go up against Raja’s Tyra Banks in the same Snatch Game. I have no doubt that Shea would destroy Raja in such a match-up.
Ginger Minj as Tammy Faye Bakker (AS2): As Tammy Faye, Ginger Minj was only declared “safe”, but I thought she deserved more recognition. Unfortunately, she didn’t receive a ton of screen time as Tammy Faye; she was upstaged by Alaska (Mae West), Katya (Bjork), Alyssa Edwards (Joan Crawford), and Phi Phi O’Hara (Theresa Caputo).
An interesting trend is that almost every rating “mismatch” (i.e., overrated or underrated) occurred in the series starting in Season 5. I don't know if this is pure coincidence, but for the sake of argument, let's suppose that it is not. In my opinion, Season 5 was a turning point in the series when the emphasis on drama and “character arcs” began to define the show. In other words, Season 5 was when the show truly embraced its reality television nature. Season 4 was the last season in which the viewer could pretend that the show was truly about honoring good drag. Invariably, the effect of this change is that contestants who generate drama (Coco Montrese, Valentina) or can be fodder for the “most-improved” storyline (Trinity K. Bonet, Pearl) are kept on artificially long, even if their drag is poor. These contestants slip through challenges by being “safe”, are judged by more than the lip sync when up for elimination, or are given tons of grace.
* * *
On Reveals
A “reveal” is when a contestant removes, unfolds, or otherwise changes part or all of their runway attire to display either a second distinct runway look or a hidden item. In order for a reveal to be effective, it must satisfy the following four criteria:
1. It must be executed properly. This is common sense; both phases have to be put together at the same level of effort that a single look would be. This also means that if a reveal involves gag items (e.g., rose petals, butterflies), they’d better do what they’re supposed to do. In their respective season finales, Sasha Velour succeeded at this; Asia O’Hara failed catastrophically.
2. It must be appropriate for the context. This is perhaps the most subjective of the criteria, because “the context” differs at the time of the reveal. But this essentially means that the reveal can’t be just anything. The second phase of the reveal must be aesthetically consistent with the first look, but it must also be relevant in some way—that could mean it “tells a story” in conjunction with the first look, or that it is connected in some way to the environment outside of the contestant. Alyssa Edwards’ camera dress from All Stars 2 violated this condition, because the cameras in her second look were irrelevant to anything. Asia O’Hara’s attempted use of butterflies in her lip sync to “Nasty” was a complete non-sequitur. By contrast, Roxxxy Andrews’ wig reveal, Sasha Velour’s rose petals, and Peppermint’s reveal in the Season 9 finale were all directly connected to the lip sync songs.
3. It must be timed correctly. An effective reveal has to occur at the climax of the runway presentation. If it occurs too soon, the audience has not had time to completely process the first look, and the contestant has played her joker preemptively.
4. It must not be obvious. If the audience knows it’s coming, it defeats the purpose of doing a reveal. A dead giveaway is if the first look is an enormous dress or is ill-fitting. (I’m looking at you, Season 10 finale.)
Below is a matrix evaluating a selection of reveals throughout the show in each of the four categories. A score of 0 represents “poor”, 1 represents “meh, okay”, and 2 represents “success”.
Brooke Lynn Hytes’ reveal in the Season 11 finale clearly violated the “not obvious” condition, but I gave her a pass because it was deliberately tongue-in-cheek. What was revealed, however, was a bit disappointing given the explicit call-out, which is why she scored poorly in the “appropriate for context” category.
* * *
On All Stars
This section specifically discusses All Stars seasons 2 through 4. All Stars 1 doesn’t count because it was terrible and was obviously structured so that Chad Michaels could win a Drag Race crown.
All Stars operates differently from a regular season in that (usually) the top two queens have a lip sync battle, and the winner chooses which contestant to eliminate. Of course, the other idiosyncrasy about All Stars is that the rules related to elimination are arbitrarily discarded or modified from time to time. I suppose the premise behind employing this elimination methodology is that the returning competitors have the experience of a regular season (and substantial exposure outside of the show) and thus are qualified to decide whom to eliminate. RuPaul gets to outsource the hard decision.
This structure is highly conducive to reality television’s vice of overdramatization. Contestants’ incentives get distorted because they tend to focus on working and mining inter-contestant relationships rather than soberly evaluating challenge performance. Alternatively, a queen in the top may choose to eliminate a strong competitor who happens to land in the bottom to cause a stir. The uncertainty of the elimination policy that each top queen will follow is what generates viewer interest.
I do wonder how much of a hand the producers have in deciding the fates of All Stars contestants. It makes great reality television when a strong contestant, or even the frontrunner, is suddenly and unexpectedly eliminated (e.g., Naomi Smalls eliminating Manila Luzon, Detox eliminating Alyssa Edwards). It makes great television for a contestant to back out of the competition (Adore Delano, BenDeLaCreme). And it makes great television to portray one contestant as the villain (Phi Phi O’Hara, Gia Gunn).
For all of the shortcomings of the All Stars format, All Stars 2 was the best season in the entire Drag Race canon, even accounting for the reality television bullshit. The contestants competed at such a higher level than on any other season, yielding a highly entertaining season featuring high-quality drag. It’s fun to watch contestants do well. By contrast, All Stars 3 was dominated by the reality television-esque aspects, perhaps because the majority of the cast were mediocre queens who were inexplicably offered a spot in the All Stars cast (Milk? Thorgy Thor? Aja? Trixie Mattel? BeBe Zahara Benet?). Correspondingly, All Stars 3 was one of the worst seasons in the Drag Race canon.
One final discussion about All Stars. I am opposed to regular season winners being offered slots in All Stars, unless the cast were comprised exclusively of regular season winners. If a regular season winner is entered back into the fray, she is at risk of being usurped. There is a risk of spoiling the “illusion” of a regular season winner. What does it mean, for instance, that BeBe Zahara Benet, the original winner of Drag Race, was beat out by two other contestants in All Stars 3? Does it lessen the value of her crown? I think it might, and that is why regular season winners should not compete in All Stars.
* * *
On Redemption
Excluding All Stars, only a handful of queens have had the chance to return to a second regular season to compete again. These contestants include Shangela (S2 and S3), Cynthia Lee Fontaine (S8 and S9), Eureka (S9 and S10), and Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (S10 and S11). My opinion is that if a queen is asked to return, there had better be a compelling reason to bring her back. In addition, when she returns, she should not be artificially kept around just to create a “redemption” story arc. Finally, the judges should hold the returned contestant to the same standards as the other competitors. In other words, the rebuke of, “You were on here before, so you should be twice as good as the other queens” is absurd.
Shangela, Eureka, and Vanjie had at least mildly defensible cases for being brought back. Shangela was quite a character in the first episode of Season 2 and it was a shame to see her go so early. Eureka was prematurely eliminated in Season 9 due to an injury. And Vanjie became a hysterical internet meme sensation after her elimination in the first episode of Season 10. I still do not understand why Cynthia Lee Fontaine was brought back after a lackluster run on Season 8, much less why she reentered in the second episode of Season 9, avoiding the Lady Gaga challenge.
Shangela and Cynthia Lee Fontaine were not kept around for any longer than reasonable. Coincidentally, Cynthia placed the same in both of her seasons—tenth—which demonstrated that she was definitively not a remarkable candidate. Eureka and Vanjie, however, were kept alive for far longer than appropriate or tolerable. Vanjie in particular received multiple lifelines and reduced critiques from the judges; it was almost as if the producers desperately wanted her to be the season’s runner-up, but eventually decided that it was not justifiable.
On multiple occasions during Seasons 10 and 11 respectively, Eureka and Vanjie received criticism from the judges that they were not performing as well as they “should” have been. That a queen was on the show before and was given the opportunity to come back in no way implies that she should be better than the other contestants. Competing on part of a season does not somehow endow a contestant with any additional skills or talent. The judges’ comments on this expectation very much hearken of a reality television overdramatization rather than a rational evaluation of the contestant’s performance.
In a strange way, the last four regular seasons have been “connected” by returning queens. Seasons 8 and 9 had a continuity through Cynthia Lee Fontaine; Seasons 9 and 10 through Eureka; and Season 10 and 11 through Vanjie. I hope that this is not a longer-term trend and that a Season 11 contestant is not brought back to Season 12.
* * *
On Drag Race’s Existential Crisis
Drag Race was a revolutionary show when it debuted. It was a gay-focused show produced by gay people for the gay community to consume. No such show had ever enjoyed as much enduring success as Drag Race achieved. Gay men are stereotypically ignorant of sports; this is not just their sport, but their Olympics. Each week, gay bars began to count on the revenue bump that Monday nights brought from screening the episodes.
But that has changed in recent years. Drag Race proved to be unexpectedly successful outside of the gay community. As a result, in Season 9, the show migrated from Logo—an obscure television network with a history of LGBT+ programming—and began airing on VH1. Episodes started airing on Friday evenings rather than Mondays, a change which upset many gay bar owners because it cut their expected Monday night revenue and instead pooled it with the revenue that would already have been made on Friday. Advertisements for Drag Con that aired during commercial breaks featured teenage girls and young women talking about how great Drag Con is. Greater portions of episode screen time were devoted to contestants explaining concepts that gay men do not need explained: coming out, bullying, conversion therapy, mental health. In short, the show’s target audience has shifted from gay men to straight teenage girls. Drag Race seems somewhat uncertain of this transition, as commercials for Nasty Pig are juxtaposed with the sanitized Drag Con commercials. Drag Race appears to be facing an existential crisis, unsure whether to stake its purpose in representing the queer community or to garner as much profit as possible.
This crisis is almost certainly compounded by the shift in the social consciousness’s understanding of gender from binary to a spectrum. Historically (i.e., during World War II), drag’s purpose was to provide entertainment for soldiers. (One could make the argument that drag was an essential component of national security during the War.) Its entertainment value arose from its comedic nature of a hypermasculine military man presenting himself as a hyperfeminine woman. The gender mismatch provided amusement to the sex-starved male soldiers as a way to cope with the traumatizing effects of war.
I’m no drag or gender studies historian, but I suspect when the show aired in 2009, drag was still thought of as an activity requiring a clear transition from “man” to “woman”. In the early seasons of Drag Race, many of the contestants introduced themselves by their male names first.
Fast forward to 2019 (or sooner, really). Questions that may have been comparatively meaningless a decade ago find themselves at the forefront of the discussion. Is drag more than just presenting oneself as a woman? What does it mean to present oneself as a woman? Who is eligible to practice drag? What does “drag” mean when practiced by non-male-identifying people? What place does drag have in a world in which former show contestants have declared their gender identity as women, yet continue to practice drag? (I almost certainly offended tons of folks by phrasing my questions in such ways, but I don’t have the proper language sensibilities on subjects explicitly dealing with gender identity.) Drag Race is caught in the middle of these questions and has provided tenuous, if any, answers. RuPaul has been repeatedly criticized for her allegedly anti-trans positions, and she has back-pedaled on some of her statements. Drag Race appears to possess a high degree of cognitive dissonance around issues of gender and what “drag” means in the 21st century.
* * *
On Self-Aggrandizement
As time elapsed, Drag Race’s focus seemed to shift from empowering the next generation of drag queens to an exercise in self-promotion for RuPaul. The most egregious such instance was the Season 5 dance challenge that featured a storyline about RuPaul’s life. Beginning in Season 6, RuPaul’s entrance in drag was preceded by a dramatic, extended build-up before “Covergirl” played, priming the viewers to get ready to focus on her. Challenges featured explicit marketing of RuPaul’s side projects; namely, her music.
The melding of RuPaul’s music side projects with Drag Race has been frequent and uncomfortable, to say the least. The source of the discomfort is that RuPaul often attempts to put her Drag Race catchphrases to music—catchphrases that have no inherent rhythm. The resultant songs end up being awkward, stilted compositions centered around phrases such as, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?”, “Category is”, “Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent”, “Oh No She Betta Don’t”, “Everybody Say Love”, among others.
The show has always had its blatant sponsorship and product placement (think Absolut Vodka in the early seasons). But the explicit product call-outs used to be generally tongue-in-cheek; RuPaul may repeat the name of the sponsor and add a goofy grin. When it comes to her music, however, RuPaul seems to take her self-promotion quite seriously. And it’s almost sad to watch, because her music is just…not good.
I suppose it also may be appropriate here to discuss the abundance of music that comes out of contestants after their time on the show. It’s a fairly predictable formula: you release an album after your time on Drag Race. You also get featured on a bunch of other contestants’ records. It's just what happens. Most of these contestants have zero musical talent, so the music is absolute garbage. Also, most of the musical releases revolve around the same note of drag-specific content, so the music's appeal and relatability outside the drag community is limited. It’s somewhat unclear who the target audience of this music is aside from other drag queens. It all seems like a desperate cash grab and a mimicry of the recording artist model established by RuPaul.
* * *
On the “Inner Saboteur”
At some point in the second half of the series, RuPaul began harping on the narrative of contestants overcoming their “inner saboteur”. Whatever challenges or setbacks the contestants encountered during their season (or even prior to the show), the show frequently features RuPaul trying to define these struggles in terms of an “inner saboteur”. For many contestants, that might be relevant, because queer people have swum upstream against the predominant current of society their entire lives. They, more than most people, perhaps are more susceptible to negative self-talk, especially in the heat of a stressful challenge. But there are other contestants for whom the narrative is much simpler: I made a mistake in one of the challenges, full stop. The viewers may see a flash of confusion dart across the contestant’s face as RuPaul asserts that they messed up because of their “inner saboteur”. “Um…okay, sure…” is the general sentiment this contestant conveys.
I only have two things to say about this. First, and I suppose I’ve already revealed this opinion, is that not every contestant’s struggles can be shoehorned into the “inner saboteur” narrative. Attempting to do so is misguided at best and trivializing at worst, classifying a variety of completely unrelated personal issues as equivalent. Second, this discussion almost seems like a continuation of the self-aggrandizement discussion, because the inner saboteur narrative “stems from RuPaul’s own brand of new-age spirituality mixed with a pro-capitalist-bootstraps message”. RuPaul’s continuous reiteration of the concept frames her as some self-proclaimed guru. That she has been able to overcome her own inner saboteur seems to entitle her with the idea that she is wise enough to counsel others—and to claim that if she can make it, then anyone can. The argument between Asia O’Hara and RuPaul in the Season 10 Reunion episode clearly revealed RuPaul’s arrogance on this subject.
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In Conclusion
I have to keep reminding myself that RuPaul’s Drag Race is a reality television show. So perhaps on the one hand, there is no need for me to have such strong opinions on so many aspects of an artificial world. But, on the other hand, it is a show that has directly created dozens of contestant’s careers and literally changed their lives. In addition, many of the contestants’ stories and journeys are pretty intense and may contain the potential to inspire, educate, and empower viewers. These characteristics lead me to think that perhaps the show is a cultural force whose reach and effects are worth pondering indeed.
What follow are various rankings, evaluations, and streams of consciousness I have developed about the show. The regular seasons in which the named contestants competed are denoted by “S” followed by the season number; similarly, All Stars seasons are denoted with “AS” followed by the All Stars season number.
Oh yeah, I guess I should also say there are series spoilers, so watch out if you’re not current.
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On Tops and Bottoms
In this section, I provide lists of my favorites and least favorites in various categories.
FAVORITE QUEENS: TOP FIVE
Bianca del Rio (S6), Alaska (S5, AS2), Detox (S5, AS2), Manila Luzon (S3, AS1, AS4), Sharon Needles (S4)
FAVORITE QUEENS: HONORABLE MENTIONS
Raven (S2, AS1), Nina Flowers (S1, AS1), Trinity Taylor (S9, AS4), BenDeLaCreme (S6, AS3), Katya (S7, AS2)
LEAST FAVORITE QUEENS: BOTTOM FIVE
Serena ChaCha (S5), Gia Gunn (S6, AS4), Farrah Moan (S9, AS4), Kenya Michaels (S4), Mimi Imfurst (S3, AS1)
LEAST FAVORITE QUEENS: DISHONORABLE MENTIONS
Ra’Jah O’Hara (S11), Milk (S6, AS3), Cynthia Lee Fontaine (S8, S9), Tyra Sanchez (S2), Coco Montrese (S5, AS2)
Note: “least favorite” is really a proxy for “most annoying”.
TOP FIVE LIP SYNCS
Alyssa Edwards vs. Tatianna: “Shut Up and Drive”, Rihanna (AS2)
Brooke Lynn Hytes vs. Yvie Oddly: “Sorry Not Sorry”, Demi Lovato (S11)
Sasha Velour vs. Shea Coulee: “So Emotional”, Whitney Houston (S9)
Jinkx Monsoon vs. Detox: “Malambo No. 1”, Yma Sumac (S5)
Carmen Carrera vs. Raja: “Straight Up”, Paula Abdul (S3)
TOP FIVE SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Alaska as Mae West (AS2)
Adore Delano as Anna Nicole Smith (S6)
Pandora Boxx as Carol Channing (S2)
BenDeLaCreme as Maggie Smith (S6)
Tatianna as Britney Spears (S2)
Kennedy Davenport as Little Richard (S7)
Chad Michaels as Cher (S4)
Yeah, I know there's seven and not five. Too bad.
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On Incorrect Judgments
In this section, I list the contestants and Snatch Game performances that I think are most mismatched with their evaluation. Specifically, I list the five most overrated and the five most underrated in each category. The referenced “rating” is not necessarily just how the judges evaluated the contestant; it may also include contestants or Snatch Game performances that have largely been forgotten in Drag Race discourse and lore, either for how good or how bad they were.
TOP FIVE MOST OVERRATED QUEENS
Pearl (S7): The most egregious case of the producers deliberately trying to create a season-long character arc. Pearl was dull and apathetic, completely undeserving of her placement as runner-up to Violet Chachki. In her lip sync against Trixie Mattel early in Season 7, Trixie was told to sashay away, even though she gave a much more engaging lip sync performance than Pearl. (When Trixie returned later in the season, the fact that she was not immediately eliminated was a clear indication that she had been prematurely eliminated.) Instead, the judges gave her tons of grace: she did not cinch her waist for any of her runway looks, whereas on the previous season, Adore Delano was read to filth for not cinching. Week after week, Pearl received free passes because the producers wanted to create the character arc of the “sleepy” contestant that “woke up” and came from behind.
Coco Montrese (S5, AS2): The crybaby of Season 5. Week after week, she had a piss poor attitude with which she continuously shot herself in the foot. Yet she was likely kept around to maintain the feud between her and Alyssa Edwards to generate on-screen drama. She was in the bottom two four times on her season, more than any other contestant in a regular season, after which she was finally eliminated. Her drag was a far cry from noteworthy, and she kept repeating to the judges that she would give more the next time. That characteristic followed her into All Stars 2 when, after she was eliminated in the first episode and was informed of a future potential for “revenge”, she responded with, “Oh, I’m not holding back”. Why did she not before when she actually had the chance? And, not surprisingly, she was not offered a chance to return later in the season.
Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (S10, S11): The meme. Because that’s about all she had to contribute to the show. Her entire personality consisted of yakking and being extra. Her style week after week consisted of a swimsuit-cut outfit with glitter across the top of her chest. She was heavily criticized at times for both of these things, but she managed to ride the producers’ “redemption story” arc to fifth place on Season 11. She should have been eliminated in her lip sync against Plastique Tiara…and then again in her lip sync against Shuga Cain. She definitely did not deserve to place higher than Nina West. Were it not for her hilarious “Miss…Vaaaaanjie” exit in the first episode of Season 10, she would not have been offered a chance to return in Season 11 at all.
BeBe Zahara Benet (S1, AS3): The original winner of the series. My opinion is that she only won her regular season by chance: she happened to be up for elimination against Ongina, and BeBe saved herself by giving a better lip sync. Even though Ongina was a better queen overall who could do more than “giving face” (BeBe’s self-proclaimed specialty), Ongina was eliminated and BeBe stayed. BeBe’s lack of versatility became apparent when she was very strangely offered a spot in the cast of All Stars 3. She did not excel and was merely safe week after week (“consistent”, as she called it). While I think the method of selecting the top two in All Stars 3 was terrible, I think BeBe’s exclusion from the selection was the correct decision.
Valentina (S9, AS4): The Season 9 contestant that viewers thought was beautiful in and out of drag. I don’t know, I don’t think she’s that cute as a boy. When she competed on Season 9, both viewers and the judges ate her up. But I was not particularly impressed by her. The judges’ clear favoritism toward her was perhaps most apparent when she wore a wedding dress for the White Party runway theme and somehow won. She also makes this list because of her elimination lip sync fiasco: you do not get to be a serious contender without preparing your lip sync. In All Stars 4, her delusional nature came to the forefront (“My process is what makes me a star”, “Me being eliminated doesn’t happen in my fantasy”), and her head got so far up her ass that Naomi Smalls had to bail her out and save Club 96 from being a complete disaster.
TOP FIVE MOST UNDERRATED QUEENS
Lineysha Sparx (S5): Lineysha was a stunning contestant who was ultimately eliminated because English was not her first language. She should have won the first challenge of her season with her gorgeous wallpaper dress instead of Roxxxy Andrews. The Snatch Game, which requires intimate knowledge of mainstream American celebrities, American-style humor, and improvisation within the English language, was her demise. No one on her season seemed to take her seriously because of her difficulty with English. Even RuPaul did not take Lineysha seriously, making jokes throughout Season 5 about her struggle with English, which was nothing less than painful to watch.
Mrs. Kasha Davis (S7): Mrs. Kasha Davis was a fun, campy contestant who embodies what I think of when I think of classical drag. Classical drag queens are first and foremost comedic entertainers, right down to the appearance (where you can tell that the queen is obviously a man dressed as a woman with overemphasized femininity). In my opinion, because Mrs. Kasha Davis hails from a more classical drag style, she was simply cast at the wrong point in the series. Beginning with the victory of Sharon Needles in Season 4, Drag Race eschewed convention and demonstrated the possibility of victory for contestants that did not necessarily embody the pathos of classical drag. By Season 7, Drag Race had become somewhat of an empire following the successes of Seasons 5 and 6. Contestants were more likely to consider themselves “artists” with a defined “aesthetic”, which seemed to almost become a requirement for success on the show (examples: Violet Chachki, Sasha Velour, Aquaria, Yvie Oddly). Mrs. Kasha Davis’ style of drag doesn’t need to operate at that level of sophistication, which is perhaps why she was eliminated when she was given the series’ evolution.
Scarlet Envy (S11): Scarlet was incorrectly eliminated so that Ra’Jah O’Hara could be retained strictly to create drama in Season 11. Her bottom-two placement in the episode in which she was eliminated was questionable to begin with. Her self-proclaimed strengths lied in her acting abilities, which we only got to observe once, and for which she won a challenge. She should have been on Season 11 longer.
Ginger Minj (S7, AS2): It’s true that Ginger Minj placed highly in her season as one of the runners-up for the Season 7 crown. However, I say she was underrated because out of the Season 7 top three, she should have won. When she returned for All Stars 2, she was only around for three episodes before being inexplicably put into the bottom two in the “Herstory of the World” episode. As painful as it would have been, Alyssa Edwards should have eliminated Katya instead of Ginger Minj based on how the two of them performed in that challenge.
DiDa Ritz (S4): Technically, DiDa Ritz placed in sixth on Season 4 (although realistically, she placed fifth if we ignore the eyeroll-worthy mess that was the reentry of Kenya Michaels). While on the show, I found her personality quite charming. The judges (and even the other contestants) read her for her runway looks, which they claimed were unpolished. However, I never found substantial fault with her looks, and the judges had certainly accepted less from other contestants. Also, she gave one of the most energetic and entertaining lip sync performances in the entire series to Natalie Cole’s “This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)”. After her time on the show, DiDa Ritz took a long break from drag and largely seemed to fade out of the Drag Race consciousness. Apparently, however, she has since begun performing again.
TOP FIVE MOST OVERRATED SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Trinity K. Bonet as Nicki Minaj (S6): I still do not understand how she was safe after this challenge, even avoiding judges’ critiques entirely. She did not make a single joke in her performance. The most interesting thing she did was change wigs, but she followed that up by giving that as her excuse for not even having an answer to a question. And, as Bianca del Rio put it, “Wig changes! How original! Chad Michaels, how many years ago?”
Eureka as Honey Boo Boo (S10): All her answers were literally scribbles. In addition to delivering a one-note performance, Eureka avoided the need to be clever, quick, and witty—which is the entire point of the Snatch Game—by answering with scribbling. Yet the judges ate her performance up, and she was undeservingly in the top.
Raja as Tyra Banks (S3): Raja’s performance as Tyra Banks relied on two themes: “smising” and “I hate Naomi Campbell!” Each had enough comedic value for at most one joke, but both were repeated, making them both stale. In addition, both jokes were executed in an overexaggerated way: Raja drew blood underneath her eyes from too much “smising”, and she stood up and screamed, “Naomi Campbell is a ************** whore!” Raja still managed to be in the top, perhaps because no contestants were any good on Season 3’s Snatch Game.
Thorgy Thor as Michael Jackson (S8): I suspect Thorgy chose to do a male celebrity following Kennedy Davenport’s unparalleled success as Little Richard. But if you’re going to do a male celebrity, your performance had better be way funnier than the other contestants’. Thorgy’s was not. Yet somehow, the judges praised her and she was in the top.
Bob the Drag Queen as Uzo Aduba/Carol Channing (S8): Yeah, it was funny, but neither celebrity portrayal was legendary. Pandora Boxx did a much funnier Carol Channing. I think if Bob had focused more effort on doing only one of these celebrities, her Snatch Game performance could have been better. I suspect Bob won because her competition in the Snatch Game was pretty mediocre, and by that point, Season 8 was already “The Bob Show”. To Bob’s credit, however, this was the first time on the show that a contestant changed celebrities mid-Snatch Game. I think the fact that Bob delivered two celebrities in above-average performances is what makes her Snatch Game performance an icon of Drag Race lore.
TOP FIVE MOST UNDERRATED SNATCH GAME PERFORMANCES
Pearl as Big Ang (S7): Admittedly, if Pearl had been eliminated when she should have been, we would never have gotten this performance. Pearl’s Big Ang was hysterical, landing multiple jokes with excellent comedic timing. Honestly, I thought she surpassed Katya’s Suze Orman. Yet Pearl received no acknowledgment from the judges of her performance, being immediately declared “safe”.
Nina Bo’Nina Brown as Jasmine Masters (S9): One of Nina Bo’Nina Brown’s few shining moments in Season 9, her Snatch Game performance as Jasmine Masters is one of my favorites in the entire series. Unfortunately, Nina’s self-deprecating attitude remains attached to her reputation in the Drag Race lore rather than her high points, so her excellence in this performance has been predominantly forgotten. She did, however, receive praise from the judges in the episode, which was well-earned.
Detox as Nancy Grace (AS2): I don’t know, I thought Detox’s Nancy Grace was funny. The performance was arguably somewhat one-note (“Where’s the body?”), but Detox did manage to interact with the other celebrities and land a great pun on the word “match”. I do not think she deserved to be up for elimination in the bottom three because of this performance.
Shea Coulee as Naomi Campbell (S9): Shea Coulee’s Naomi Campbell was funny, but Shea was only declared “safe”. As a thought experiment, I think it would be highly entertaining to watch Shea’s Naomi Campbell go up against Raja’s Tyra Banks in the same Snatch Game. I have no doubt that Shea would destroy Raja in such a match-up.
Ginger Minj as Tammy Faye Bakker (AS2): As Tammy Faye, Ginger Minj was only declared “safe”, but I thought she deserved more recognition. Unfortunately, she didn’t receive a ton of screen time as Tammy Faye; she was upstaged by Alaska (Mae West), Katya (Bjork), Alyssa Edwards (Joan Crawford), and Phi Phi O’Hara (Theresa Caputo).
An interesting trend is that almost every rating “mismatch” (i.e., overrated or underrated) occurred in the series starting in Season 5. I don't know if this is pure coincidence, but for the sake of argument, let's suppose that it is not. In my opinion, Season 5 was a turning point in the series when the emphasis on drama and “character arcs” began to define the show. In other words, Season 5 was when the show truly embraced its reality television nature. Season 4 was the last season in which the viewer could pretend that the show was truly about honoring good drag. Invariably, the effect of this change is that contestants who generate drama (Coco Montrese, Valentina) or can be fodder for the “most-improved” storyline (Trinity K. Bonet, Pearl) are kept on artificially long, even if their drag is poor. These contestants slip through challenges by being “safe”, are judged by more than the lip sync when up for elimination, or are given tons of grace.
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On Reveals
A “reveal” is when a contestant removes, unfolds, or otherwise changes part or all of their runway attire to display either a second distinct runway look or a hidden item. In order for a reveal to be effective, it must satisfy the following four criteria:
1. It must be executed properly. This is common sense; both phases have to be put together at the same level of effort that a single look would be. This also means that if a reveal involves gag items (e.g., rose petals, butterflies), they’d better do what they’re supposed to do. In their respective season finales, Sasha Velour succeeded at this; Asia O’Hara failed catastrophically.
2. It must be appropriate for the context. This is perhaps the most subjective of the criteria, because “the context” differs at the time of the reveal. But this essentially means that the reveal can’t be just anything. The second phase of the reveal must be aesthetically consistent with the first look, but it must also be relevant in some way—that could mean it “tells a story” in conjunction with the first look, or that it is connected in some way to the environment outside of the contestant. Alyssa Edwards’ camera dress from All Stars 2 violated this condition, because the cameras in her second look were irrelevant to anything. Asia O’Hara’s attempted use of butterflies in her lip sync to “Nasty” was a complete non-sequitur. By contrast, Roxxxy Andrews’ wig reveal, Sasha Velour’s rose petals, and Peppermint’s reveal in the Season 9 finale were all directly connected to the lip sync songs.
3. It must be timed correctly. An effective reveal has to occur at the climax of the runway presentation. If it occurs too soon, the audience has not had time to completely process the first look, and the contestant has played her joker preemptively.
4. It must not be obvious. If the audience knows it’s coming, it defeats the purpose of doing a reveal. A dead giveaway is if the first look is an enormous dress or is ill-fitting. (I’m looking at you, Season 10 finale.)
Below is a matrix evaluating a selection of reveals throughout the show in each of the four categories. A score of 0 represents “poor”, 1 represents “meh, okay”, and 2 represents “success”.
Brooke Lynn Hytes’ reveal in the Season 11 finale clearly violated the “not obvious” condition, but I gave her a pass because it was deliberately tongue-in-cheek. What was revealed, however, was a bit disappointing given the explicit call-out, which is why she scored poorly in the “appropriate for context” category.
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On All Stars
This section specifically discusses All Stars seasons 2 through 4. All Stars 1 doesn’t count because it was terrible and was obviously structured so that Chad Michaels could win a Drag Race crown.
All Stars operates differently from a regular season in that (usually) the top two queens have a lip sync battle, and the winner chooses which contestant to eliminate. Of course, the other idiosyncrasy about All Stars is that the rules related to elimination are arbitrarily discarded or modified from time to time. I suppose the premise behind employing this elimination methodology is that the returning competitors have the experience of a regular season (and substantial exposure outside of the show) and thus are qualified to decide whom to eliminate. RuPaul gets to outsource the hard decision.
This structure is highly conducive to reality television’s vice of overdramatization. Contestants’ incentives get distorted because they tend to focus on working and mining inter-contestant relationships rather than soberly evaluating challenge performance. Alternatively, a queen in the top may choose to eliminate a strong competitor who happens to land in the bottom to cause a stir. The uncertainty of the elimination policy that each top queen will follow is what generates viewer interest.
I do wonder how much of a hand the producers have in deciding the fates of All Stars contestants. It makes great reality television when a strong contestant, or even the frontrunner, is suddenly and unexpectedly eliminated (e.g., Naomi Smalls eliminating Manila Luzon, Detox eliminating Alyssa Edwards). It makes great television for a contestant to back out of the competition (Adore Delano, BenDeLaCreme). And it makes great television to portray one contestant as the villain (Phi Phi O’Hara, Gia Gunn).
For all of the shortcomings of the All Stars format, All Stars 2 was the best season in the entire Drag Race canon, even accounting for the reality television bullshit. The contestants competed at such a higher level than on any other season, yielding a highly entertaining season featuring high-quality drag. It’s fun to watch contestants do well. By contrast, All Stars 3 was dominated by the reality television-esque aspects, perhaps because the majority of the cast were mediocre queens who were inexplicably offered a spot in the All Stars cast (Milk? Thorgy Thor? Aja? Trixie Mattel? BeBe Zahara Benet?). Correspondingly, All Stars 3 was one of the worst seasons in the Drag Race canon.
One final discussion about All Stars. I am opposed to regular season winners being offered slots in All Stars, unless the cast were comprised exclusively of regular season winners. If a regular season winner is entered back into the fray, she is at risk of being usurped. There is a risk of spoiling the “illusion” of a regular season winner. What does it mean, for instance, that BeBe Zahara Benet, the original winner of Drag Race, was beat out by two other contestants in All Stars 3? Does it lessen the value of her crown? I think it might, and that is why regular season winners should not compete in All Stars.
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On Redemption
Excluding All Stars, only a handful of queens have had the chance to return to a second regular season to compete again. These contestants include Shangela (S2 and S3), Cynthia Lee Fontaine (S8 and S9), Eureka (S9 and S10), and Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (S10 and S11). My opinion is that if a queen is asked to return, there had better be a compelling reason to bring her back. In addition, when she returns, she should not be artificially kept around just to create a “redemption” story arc. Finally, the judges should hold the returned contestant to the same standards as the other competitors. In other words, the rebuke of, “You were on here before, so you should be twice as good as the other queens” is absurd.
Shangela, Eureka, and Vanjie had at least mildly defensible cases for being brought back. Shangela was quite a character in the first episode of Season 2 and it was a shame to see her go so early. Eureka was prematurely eliminated in Season 9 due to an injury. And Vanjie became a hysterical internet meme sensation after her elimination in the first episode of Season 10. I still do not understand why Cynthia Lee Fontaine was brought back after a lackluster run on Season 8, much less why she reentered in the second episode of Season 9, avoiding the Lady Gaga challenge.
Shangela and Cynthia Lee Fontaine were not kept around for any longer than reasonable. Coincidentally, Cynthia placed the same in both of her seasons—tenth—which demonstrated that she was definitively not a remarkable candidate. Eureka and Vanjie, however, were kept alive for far longer than appropriate or tolerable. Vanjie in particular received multiple lifelines and reduced critiques from the judges; it was almost as if the producers desperately wanted her to be the season’s runner-up, but eventually decided that it was not justifiable.
On multiple occasions during Seasons 10 and 11 respectively, Eureka and Vanjie received criticism from the judges that they were not performing as well as they “should” have been. That a queen was on the show before and was given the opportunity to come back in no way implies that she should be better than the other contestants. Competing on part of a season does not somehow endow a contestant with any additional skills or talent. The judges’ comments on this expectation very much hearken of a reality television overdramatization rather than a rational evaluation of the contestant’s performance.
In a strange way, the last four regular seasons have been “connected” by returning queens. Seasons 8 and 9 had a continuity through Cynthia Lee Fontaine; Seasons 9 and 10 through Eureka; and Season 10 and 11 through Vanjie. I hope that this is not a longer-term trend and that a Season 11 contestant is not brought back to Season 12.
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On Drag Race’s Existential Crisis
Drag Race was a revolutionary show when it debuted. It was a gay-focused show produced by gay people for the gay community to consume. No such show had ever enjoyed as much enduring success as Drag Race achieved. Gay men are stereotypically ignorant of sports; this is not just their sport, but their Olympics. Each week, gay bars began to count on the revenue bump that Monday nights brought from screening the episodes.
But that has changed in recent years. Drag Race proved to be unexpectedly successful outside of the gay community. As a result, in Season 9, the show migrated from Logo—an obscure television network with a history of LGBT+ programming—and began airing on VH1. Episodes started airing on Friday evenings rather than Mondays, a change which upset many gay bar owners because it cut their expected Monday night revenue and instead pooled it with the revenue that would already have been made on Friday. Advertisements for Drag Con that aired during commercial breaks featured teenage girls and young women talking about how great Drag Con is. Greater portions of episode screen time were devoted to contestants explaining concepts that gay men do not need explained: coming out, bullying, conversion therapy, mental health. In short, the show’s target audience has shifted from gay men to straight teenage girls. Drag Race seems somewhat uncertain of this transition, as commercials for Nasty Pig are juxtaposed with the sanitized Drag Con commercials. Drag Race appears to be facing an existential crisis, unsure whether to stake its purpose in representing the queer community or to garner as much profit as possible.
This crisis is almost certainly compounded by the shift in the social consciousness’s understanding of gender from binary to a spectrum. Historically (i.e., during World War II), drag’s purpose was to provide entertainment for soldiers. (One could make the argument that drag was an essential component of national security during the War.) Its entertainment value arose from its comedic nature of a hypermasculine military man presenting himself as a hyperfeminine woman. The gender mismatch provided amusement to the sex-starved male soldiers as a way to cope with the traumatizing effects of war.
I’m no drag or gender studies historian, but I suspect when the show aired in 2009, drag was still thought of as an activity requiring a clear transition from “man” to “woman”. In the early seasons of Drag Race, many of the contestants introduced themselves by their male names first.
Fast forward to 2019 (or sooner, really). Questions that may have been comparatively meaningless a decade ago find themselves at the forefront of the discussion. Is drag more than just presenting oneself as a woman? What does it mean to present oneself as a woman? Who is eligible to practice drag? What does “drag” mean when practiced by non-male-identifying people? What place does drag have in a world in which former show contestants have declared their gender identity as women, yet continue to practice drag? (I almost certainly offended tons of folks by phrasing my questions in such ways, but I don’t have the proper language sensibilities on subjects explicitly dealing with gender identity.) Drag Race is caught in the middle of these questions and has provided tenuous, if any, answers. RuPaul has been repeatedly criticized for her allegedly anti-trans positions, and she has back-pedaled on some of her statements. Drag Race appears to possess a high degree of cognitive dissonance around issues of gender and what “drag” means in the 21st century.
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On Self-Aggrandizement
As time elapsed, Drag Race’s focus seemed to shift from empowering the next generation of drag queens to an exercise in self-promotion for RuPaul. The most egregious such instance was the Season 5 dance challenge that featured a storyline about RuPaul’s life. Beginning in Season 6, RuPaul’s entrance in drag was preceded by a dramatic, extended build-up before “Covergirl” played, priming the viewers to get ready to focus on her. Challenges featured explicit marketing of RuPaul’s side projects; namely, her music.
The melding of RuPaul’s music side projects with Drag Race has been frequent and uncomfortable, to say the least. The source of the discomfort is that RuPaul often attempts to put her Drag Race catchphrases to music—catchphrases that have no inherent rhythm. The resultant songs end up being awkward, stilted compositions centered around phrases such as, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?”, “Category is”, “Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent”, “Oh No She Betta Don’t”, “Everybody Say Love”, among others.
The show has always had its blatant sponsorship and product placement (think Absolut Vodka in the early seasons). But the explicit product call-outs used to be generally tongue-in-cheek; RuPaul may repeat the name of the sponsor and add a goofy grin. When it comes to her music, however, RuPaul seems to take her self-promotion quite seriously. And it’s almost sad to watch, because her music is just…not good.
I suppose it also may be appropriate here to discuss the abundance of music that comes out of contestants after their time on the show. It’s a fairly predictable formula: you release an album after your time on Drag Race. You also get featured on a bunch of other contestants’ records. It's just what happens. Most of these contestants have zero musical talent, so the music is absolute garbage. Also, most of the musical releases revolve around the same note of drag-specific content, so the music's appeal and relatability outside the drag community is limited. It’s somewhat unclear who the target audience of this music is aside from other drag queens. It all seems like a desperate cash grab and a mimicry of the recording artist model established by RuPaul.
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On the “Inner Saboteur”
At some point in the second half of the series, RuPaul began harping on the narrative of contestants overcoming their “inner saboteur”. Whatever challenges or setbacks the contestants encountered during their season (or even prior to the show), the show frequently features RuPaul trying to define these struggles in terms of an “inner saboteur”. For many contestants, that might be relevant, because queer people have swum upstream against the predominant current of society their entire lives. They, more than most people, perhaps are more susceptible to negative self-talk, especially in the heat of a stressful challenge. But there are other contestants for whom the narrative is much simpler: I made a mistake in one of the challenges, full stop. The viewers may see a flash of confusion dart across the contestant’s face as RuPaul asserts that they messed up because of their “inner saboteur”. “Um…okay, sure…” is the general sentiment this contestant conveys.
I only have two things to say about this. First, and I suppose I’ve already revealed this opinion, is that not every contestant’s struggles can be shoehorned into the “inner saboteur” narrative. Attempting to do so is misguided at best and trivializing at worst, classifying a variety of completely unrelated personal issues as equivalent. Second, this discussion almost seems like a continuation of the self-aggrandizement discussion, because the inner saboteur narrative “stems from RuPaul’s own brand of new-age spirituality mixed with a pro-capitalist-bootstraps message”. RuPaul’s continuous reiteration of the concept frames her as some self-proclaimed guru. That she has been able to overcome her own inner saboteur seems to entitle her with the idea that she is wise enough to counsel others—and to claim that if she can make it, then anyone can. The argument between Asia O’Hara and RuPaul in the Season 10 Reunion episode clearly revealed RuPaul’s arrogance on this subject.
* * *
In Conclusion
I have to keep reminding myself that RuPaul’s Drag Race is a reality television show. So perhaps on the one hand, there is no need for me to have such strong opinions on so many aspects of an artificial world. But, on the other hand, it is a show that has directly created dozens of contestant’s careers and literally changed their lives. In addition, many of the contestants’ stories and journeys are pretty intense and may contain the potential to inspire, educate, and empower viewers. These characteristics lead me to think that perhaps the show is a cultural force whose reach and effects are worth pondering indeed.
Saturday, April 27, 2019
Navigation Center
I live in one of those fancy new condominium buildings in San Francisco’s SoMa neighborhood. (God, no, I don’t own the condo—I rent from the owners, who live in China and quite possibly have never set foot in it.) Next to my building, wedged between Bryant Street and the Embarcadero, is one of the lowest forms of urban land-use possible: a surface parking lot. Recently, the City of San Francisco proposed to place a Navigation Center on Seawall Lot 330, the official designation of said parking lot. The details don’t necessarily matter, but a Navigation Center can generally be thought of as a glorified homeless shelter with some additional amenities. This proposed Navigation Center would be part of the mayor’s goal to add 1,000 additional beds by 2020, and it is intended to be temporary, lasting only up to four years.
Shortly after Seawall Lot 330 was proposed as a location, the general manager of my building sent a message to all residents informing them of the proposal and an upcoming community meeting. In addition, residents were told, “The Board of Directors and Management are working through this issue and are developing a plan to engage those in charge to express the collective concerns this proposed Navigation Center's installation presents…” Residents were invited to the community meeting to voice their opposition “assuming you share these concerns”.
I thought it was rather presumptuous to assume that all residents of the building would immediately oppose the Navigation Center. Personally, yes, I have concerns about potential increases in used needles littering nearby sidewalks and about being heckled by people who may not be all there mentally. Also, the Center will absolutely remain longer than four years, because that’s how “temporary” public projects work. But at some point, you have to accept that sometimes these things come with living in an urban environment. Yes, it’s unpleasant and not ideal, but property ownership does not give you jurisdiction over anything further than your front door. Plus, any opportunity to eliminate surface parking lots is a win in my book.
Besides, a Navigation Center is going to have to go somewhere. And I would argue it needs to be placed such that it can be effectively stitched into the rest of the urban fabric, and sometimes that is next to a condo building. Banishing a Navigation Center to a location separate from the rest of the urban core completely contradicts its mission to get its users back on their feet and re-integrated into society. Such an action would only serve to “other” the users of the service. In addition, if a Navigation Center is not properly integrated with the rest of urban life, it would almost be guaranteed to become an island of crime—much in the same way that United States 1940’s and 1950’s public housing projects were.*
That being said, Seawall Lot 330 is not an ideal location for a Navigation Center from a sociological perspective. The surrounding neighborhood, which is primarily residential, contains little diversity of city uses. Integration into urban life could be challenging—but not impossible, especially as the neighborhood continues to develop—due to the lack of surrounding support services, employment opportunities, and even basic necessities like walkable grocery stores. However, that is not reason enough to halt the project. There is a tradeoff between taking the time to find the optimal location for a Navigation Center and addressing an immediate need. The City is taking the latter approach.
I wish the City had been more transparent about what, if any, site alternatives assessment was conducted and why Seawall Lot 330 was selected over other locations. An explanation of the methodology could encourage community support; or it could reveal inadequate planning and improper decision-making that should be rectified. Unfortunately, the only evidence I have seen so far suggests that adequate planning has not occurred. A resident in my building wrote that he attended one of the community meetings and asked one of the District Supervisor’s staff members whether she could think of any downsides for the project. Her alleged response was, “There is nothing bad I can think of about this project, it’s great!” If true, that statement is indicative of propaganda, delusion, a lack of critical study, or any combination of the three.
Nevertheless, incomplete planning for this particular project may not be sufficient grounds to stall the project given its (intended) temporary nature and its confrontation of an immediate need. The Homeowners’ Association (HOA) of my building, however, disagreed, claiming the “apparent level of haste by which the Navigation Center is seemingly being ushered through the approval process” had prevented “a responsible solution…that considers everyone’s concerns”. Frankly, that just seemed like grasping at straws. It’s not exactly kosher to flat out state that you don’t want a homeless shelter in your neighborhood because it’s unpleasant; so instead, folks in my building attempted to use any other potential objection, regardless of its merit, in the hopes that one of them might stick as a compelling argument.
The HOA consequently initiated discussions with legal counsel, but ultimately was advised that “legally there is little the Association, through the Board of Directors, can do to move forward with pursuing a legal or administrative challenge against the City and County of San Francisco with respect to this issue”. Well, no shit—you don’t own the land.
Despite the revelation of the futility of legal action, residents in the area established the Safe Embarcadero For All (SEFA) neighborhood coalition. This group created a GoFundMe page with the goal of raising $100,000 to cover fees in pursuit of legal action. As an SFist article later put it, “the GoFundMe was basically a personal fundraiser” for the attorney the SEFA coalition hired.
Once SEFA was formed, multiple pleas appeared attempting to manipulate residents into contributing to the fund. A resident of my building sent a message to the building asking if any resident realtors could provide estimates of the expected decline to their property values if the Navigation Center were approved. He surmised that the amount of decline would be over $100,000 per unit, so therefore, “in comparison, your donation to our legal defense fund is a bargain.” Another resident touted that he donated $10,000 to the SEFA fund and urged other residents to donate. The subject line of this message was, “Put your money where your mouth is against the Navigation Center”. Both of these messages beg the question: if residents can so liberally donate to oppose a Navigation Center, why is homelessness still as great a problem as it is?
In the weeks between the initial proposal for the Navigation Center and the Port Commission’s vote on the project, residents in my building sent dozens more messages opining on the Navigation Center. They ranged from reassuring (one resident said they were in support of the Navigation Center) to amusing (one resident said they observed loitering at another Navigation Center [*gasp*]) to infuriating (see the two examples in the previous paragraph). However, in my opinion, one message fully captured the anti-Navigation Center ethos while simultaneously demonstrating that the arguments selected to be deployed had little clout. A resident shared his communication with a San Francisco Chronicle reporter as follows:
I am not against Navigation Centers but Seawell lot 330 on the Embarcadero is the wrong location. The buildings immediately adjacent to Seawell lot 330 make up one of the most densely populated and fastest growing family neighborhoods in the city. Placing a navigation center into such a region provides a serious health and safety concern for everyone but especially for children, women, and the elderly. As a scientist, I worry about the health and safety of people and strive for solutions that mitigate risk. That region is densely populated with children, families, elderly, and tourists as it is also right next to the Embarcadero where close to 1000 cyclist spend recreational time each day, and thousands of people walk along to attend the ball games. All these individuals would be endangered in their safety and health by a navigation center placed onto the Embarcadero. Navigation centers have been associated with higher rates of crime, break-ins and the spread of infections. For example, drug use is allowed outside the navigation center so on the streets and the Embarcadero where children play, they could get punctured by needles or infected through contact with public urination, defacation or human waste which are all increased at navigation centers. There needs to be a solution for the homeless but it doesn’t make sense to put them into such a densely populated family neighborhood, whereby we endanger the health and safety of those most helpless to defend themselves namely the children and elderly. About 10,000 residents live within three blocks of the site.
Okay. There’s a lot to unpack here.
First, prefacing one of the sentences with “as a scientist” did absolutely nothing to bolster the argument. This resident seemed to think that his title of “scientist” lent greater legitimacy to his concerns, but it’s hard to make that case when no specific data, statistics, or analyses were provided.
Second, I absolutely do not buy the argument that children would face greater safety risks. My building is secured with 24-hour front desk staff and elevator key fob access. There is extremely little chance for break-ins or exposure of children to risk indoors. Outside the building, I have never once seen children alone. They do not play on the street as the message claimed; there are no parks or yards nearby. Consequently, there is nothing to suggest that a Navigation Center would deprive children of any activities they could previously do easily. Perhaps older children might venture outside alone; however, if their parents allow that, then their children will (or at least should) be astute enough to know what situations, people, and places to avoid. In short, this resident’s appeal to children’s safety seemed like a classic “think of the children” argument, because who would object to something that puts children in danger? (Realism of the argument be damned.)
Third, this resident said that he strives for solutions that mitigate risk. What are these solutions? If he had come up with legitimate alternatives, they should be presented to the District Supervisor’s staff.
Finally, this resident misspelled “Seawall”—twice—and “defecation”, neglected proper capitalization in multiple places, failed to pluralize “cyclists”, forgot the Oxford comma (okay, maybe that’s acceptable *grumble grumble*), and repeated content almost word for word mere sentences apart. I know this point is irrelevant, but I notice these things.
It’s fashionable to be socially conscious and claim to support efforts to address homelessness, particularly in the Bay Area. But people’s true colors emerge when confronted with a proposed solution that could have an impact on their life, even if minimal. Based on the merits and drawbacks of the proposed Navigation Center, as well as my own discomfort with its proposed location, I was for several weeks undecided whether I supported it. I eventually decided that I was in favor of the Navigation Center in the proposed location, strictly for the reason that it would piss off the entitled obstructionists that live in my building.
On Tuesday April 23, the San Francisco Port Commission voted unanimously to approve the Navigation Center, albeit with one compromise: the number of beds was decreased from 200 to 130.
*That is not to say that a proper location necessarily leads to success, nor that an improper location is necessarily a death sentence for the Center. Obviously, it’s more complicated than a simple cause-effect relationship. However, I have no doubt that properly locating a Navigation Center could increase the chance of its success.
Shortly after Seawall Lot 330 was proposed as a location, the general manager of my building sent a message to all residents informing them of the proposal and an upcoming community meeting. In addition, residents were told, “The Board of Directors and Management are working through this issue and are developing a plan to engage those in charge to express the collective concerns this proposed Navigation Center's installation presents…” Residents were invited to the community meeting to voice their opposition “assuming you share these concerns”.
I thought it was rather presumptuous to assume that all residents of the building would immediately oppose the Navigation Center. Personally, yes, I have concerns about potential increases in used needles littering nearby sidewalks and about being heckled by people who may not be all there mentally. Also, the Center will absolutely remain longer than four years, because that’s how “temporary” public projects work. But at some point, you have to accept that sometimes these things come with living in an urban environment. Yes, it’s unpleasant and not ideal, but property ownership does not give you jurisdiction over anything further than your front door. Plus, any opportunity to eliminate surface parking lots is a win in my book.
Besides, a Navigation Center is going to have to go somewhere. And I would argue it needs to be placed such that it can be effectively stitched into the rest of the urban fabric, and sometimes that is next to a condo building. Banishing a Navigation Center to a location separate from the rest of the urban core completely contradicts its mission to get its users back on their feet and re-integrated into society. Such an action would only serve to “other” the users of the service. In addition, if a Navigation Center is not properly integrated with the rest of urban life, it would almost be guaranteed to become an island of crime—much in the same way that United States 1940’s and 1950’s public housing projects were.*
That being said, Seawall Lot 330 is not an ideal location for a Navigation Center from a sociological perspective. The surrounding neighborhood, which is primarily residential, contains little diversity of city uses. Integration into urban life could be challenging—but not impossible, especially as the neighborhood continues to develop—due to the lack of surrounding support services, employment opportunities, and even basic necessities like walkable grocery stores. However, that is not reason enough to halt the project. There is a tradeoff between taking the time to find the optimal location for a Navigation Center and addressing an immediate need. The City is taking the latter approach.
I wish the City had been more transparent about what, if any, site alternatives assessment was conducted and why Seawall Lot 330 was selected over other locations. An explanation of the methodology could encourage community support; or it could reveal inadequate planning and improper decision-making that should be rectified. Unfortunately, the only evidence I have seen so far suggests that adequate planning has not occurred. A resident in my building wrote that he attended one of the community meetings and asked one of the District Supervisor’s staff members whether she could think of any downsides for the project. Her alleged response was, “There is nothing bad I can think of about this project, it’s great!” If true, that statement is indicative of propaganda, delusion, a lack of critical study, or any combination of the three.
Nevertheless, incomplete planning for this particular project may not be sufficient grounds to stall the project given its (intended) temporary nature and its confrontation of an immediate need. The Homeowners’ Association (HOA) of my building, however, disagreed, claiming the “apparent level of haste by which the Navigation Center is seemingly being ushered through the approval process” had prevented “a responsible solution…that considers everyone’s concerns”. Frankly, that just seemed like grasping at straws. It’s not exactly kosher to flat out state that you don’t want a homeless shelter in your neighborhood because it’s unpleasant; so instead, folks in my building attempted to use any other potential objection, regardless of its merit, in the hopes that one of them might stick as a compelling argument.
The HOA consequently initiated discussions with legal counsel, but ultimately was advised that “legally there is little the Association, through the Board of Directors, can do to move forward with pursuing a legal or administrative challenge against the City and County of San Francisco with respect to this issue”. Well, no shit—you don’t own the land.
Despite the revelation of the futility of legal action, residents in the area established the Safe Embarcadero For All (SEFA) neighborhood coalition. This group created a GoFundMe page with the goal of raising $100,000 to cover fees in pursuit of legal action. As an SFist article later put it, “the GoFundMe was basically a personal fundraiser” for the attorney the SEFA coalition hired.
Once SEFA was formed, multiple pleas appeared attempting to manipulate residents into contributing to the fund. A resident of my building sent a message to the building asking if any resident realtors could provide estimates of the expected decline to their property values if the Navigation Center were approved. He surmised that the amount of decline would be over $100,000 per unit, so therefore, “in comparison, your donation to our legal defense fund is a bargain.” Another resident touted that he donated $10,000 to the SEFA fund and urged other residents to donate. The subject line of this message was, “Put your money where your mouth is against the Navigation Center”. Both of these messages beg the question: if residents can so liberally donate to oppose a Navigation Center, why is homelessness still as great a problem as it is?
In the weeks between the initial proposal for the Navigation Center and the Port Commission’s vote on the project, residents in my building sent dozens more messages opining on the Navigation Center. They ranged from reassuring (one resident said they were in support of the Navigation Center) to amusing (one resident said they observed loitering at another Navigation Center [*gasp*]) to infuriating (see the two examples in the previous paragraph). However, in my opinion, one message fully captured the anti-Navigation Center ethos while simultaneously demonstrating that the arguments selected to be deployed had little clout. A resident shared his communication with a San Francisco Chronicle reporter as follows:
I am not against Navigation Centers but Seawell lot 330 on the Embarcadero is the wrong location. The buildings immediately adjacent to Seawell lot 330 make up one of the most densely populated and fastest growing family neighborhoods in the city. Placing a navigation center into such a region provides a serious health and safety concern for everyone but especially for children, women, and the elderly. As a scientist, I worry about the health and safety of people and strive for solutions that mitigate risk. That region is densely populated with children, families, elderly, and tourists as it is also right next to the Embarcadero where close to 1000 cyclist spend recreational time each day, and thousands of people walk along to attend the ball games. All these individuals would be endangered in their safety and health by a navigation center placed onto the Embarcadero. Navigation centers have been associated with higher rates of crime, break-ins and the spread of infections. For example, drug use is allowed outside the navigation center so on the streets and the Embarcadero where children play, they could get punctured by needles or infected through contact with public urination, defacation or human waste which are all increased at navigation centers. There needs to be a solution for the homeless but it doesn’t make sense to put them into such a densely populated family neighborhood, whereby we endanger the health and safety of those most helpless to defend themselves namely the children and elderly. About 10,000 residents live within three blocks of the site.
Okay. There’s a lot to unpack here.
First, prefacing one of the sentences with “as a scientist” did absolutely nothing to bolster the argument. This resident seemed to think that his title of “scientist” lent greater legitimacy to his concerns, but it’s hard to make that case when no specific data, statistics, or analyses were provided.
Second, I absolutely do not buy the argument that children would face greater safety risks. My building is secured with 24-hour front desk staff and elevator key fob access. There is extremely little chance for break-ins or exposure of children to risk indoors. Outside the building, I have never once seen children alone. They do not play on the street as the message claimed; there are no parks or yards nearby. Consequently, there is nothing to suggest that a Navigation Center would deprive children of any activities they could previously do easily. Perhaps older children might venture outside alone; however, if their parents allow that, then their children will (or at least should) be astute enough to know what situations, people, and places to avoid. In short, this resident’s appeal to children’s safety seemed like a classic “think of the children” argument, because who would object to something that puts children in danger? (Realism of the argument be damned.)
Third, this resident said that he strives for solutions that mitigate risk. What are these solutions? If he had come up with legitimate alternatives, they should be presented to the District Supervisor’s staff.
Finally, this resident misspelled “Seawall”—twice—and “defecation”, neglected proper capitalization in multiple places, failed to pluralize “cyclists”, forgot the Oxford comma (okay, maybe that’s acceptable *grumble grumble*), and repeated content almost word for word mere sentences apart. I know this point is irrelevant, but I notice these things.
It’s fashionable to be socially conscious and claim to support efforts to address homelessness, particularly in the Bay Area. But people’s true colors emerge when confronted with a proposed solution that could have an impact on their life, even if minimal. Based on the merits and drawbacks of the proposed Navigation Center, as well as my own discomfort with its proposed location, I was for several weeks undecided whether I supported it. I eventually decided that I was in favor of the Navigation Center in the proposed location, strictly for the reason that it would piss off the entitled obstructionists that live in my building.
On Tuesday April 23, the San Francisco Port Commission voted unanimously to approve the Navigation Center, albeit with one compromise: the number of beds was decreased from 200 to 130.
*That is not to say that a proper location necessarily leads to success, nor that an improper location is necessarily a death sentence for the Center. Obviously, it’s more complicated than a simple cause-effect relationship. However, I have no doubt that properly locating a Navigation Center could increase the chance of its success.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Review: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Last week, I saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway in New York. This play was a two-day endeavor; it was split into Part 1 and Part 2, each of which was the length of a standard Broadway production. (That is, each was about 2.5 hours, including an intermission.) Somewhat ashamedly, I am not as familiar with the Harry Potter series
as I would like, so my interest in seeing the show was not rooted in series fandom. Rather, the appeal to me was that Imogen Heap composed and
arranged the music. I suppose because I knew this information, I had
mistakenly thought the show was a musical; however, it is a play. My review of the production follows.
Rather than being a musical, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a play with set changes, transitions, and occasional scenes that are supported by Imogen Heap compositions. There is occasional choreography, whose sole purpose I can only guess is to allow more time for stage hands to set the next scene. The stage work, special effects, and lightning are top-notch. I do not think the story needed to be 4.5 hours long (excluding intermissions); I think the script could have been edited, perhaps by advancing some scenes faster or by cutting a few scenes entirely. Part of the reason I think this is that the plot was more simplistic and far less original than I was expecting it to be. (Spoiler alert: The main plot involves time travel into the past, which messes up the future and must be set right. Like...it's been done before.) I don't feel particularly bad about revealing that "spoiler", even though there is an unspoken pact of maintaining the story's secrecy. ("#KeepTheSecrets" was a hashtag created when the play debuted.) Perhaps it's because of my unfamiliarity with the original Harry Potter story, but the "secrets" that are revealed in the play don't seem to be that revolutionary. As far as I could tell, this play seemed entirely self-contained; that is, none of the plot twists, or "secrets", altered the events or the interpretation of the original series. All the plot twists occur in the alternate timelines generated as a result of the time-travel. So I'm not sure why maintaining secrecy has a heightened profile.
Now...the music. It turns out that the majority of the music is actually material that Imogen Heap had previously released on her albums and was resampled/rearranged for this show. While in the theater, I was able to identify bits from at least 24 distinct songs of hers. Below is the list of tracks on the Cursed Child soundtrack; the Imogen Heap songs that I was able to identify sampled within these tracks are in brackets.
Suite One:
1. Platform 9 3/4 [First Train Home]
2. The Hogwarts Express [The Listening Chair]
3. Welcome to Hogwarts [Lifeline]
4. Wand Dance [Cycle Song]
5. Albus Severus Potter [Wait It Out]
6. The Blanket [The Moment I Said It]
7. Hut on the Rock
8. A Malfoy [Me the Machine]
9. Anything From the Trolley, Dears? [Aha!]
10. Ministry of Magic [The Walk]
11. St. Oswald's
12. Wizarding World [Headlock]
13. Shadows and Spirits [Have You Got it in You?]
Suite Two:
14. Privet Drive [The Beast]
15. McGonagall's Office [Run-Time]
16. The Forbidden Forest
17. Edge of the Forest [Hide and Seek]
18. Dragons! [Tiny Human]
19. Dumbledore [Have You Got it in You?]
20. Staircase Ballet [Half Life]
21. The Duel
22. Invisibility Cloak
23. Moaning Myrtle [Little Bird]
24. Scorpius Alone [You Know Where to Find Me]
Suite Three:
25. A World of Darkness [You Know Where to Find Me]
26. Another Hogwarts [Minds Without Fear]
27. Dementors [2-1]
28. Expecto Patronum
29. In Trouble (Again)
30. Slytherin Dormitory [Climb to Sakteng]
31. The Owlery [You Know Where to Find Me/The Beast]
32. A New Prophecy [Canvas]
33. The Augurey
Suite Four:
34. Extraordinary General Meeting [The Walk]
35. Godric's Hollow [Entanglement]
36. Paint and Memory
37. Something Written [The Moment I Said It]
38. The Final Battle [Closing In/The Beast]
39. The Arrival
40. Lily and James [Climb to Sakteng]
41. Burning Bed
42. A Nice Day [Goodnight and Go]
It is important to note that some portions of the soundtrack do indeed appear to be new material. However, I am not completely familiar with all of Heap's canon, and so if I have missed any songs of hers, I will gladly update this list. (I really want to know exactly how much of the Cursed Child soundtrack was actually new).
Of the material that appears new or new-ish, the highlights are the numbers that close Act II/Suite 2/Part 1 ("Scorpius Alone") and that open Act III/Suite 3/Part 2 ("A World of Darkness"). These numbers occur back-to-back in the storyline, so naturally they convey a similar tone--dark, brooding, and eerie. Because of their similarities, the Act III opening number does an excellent job of bringing the viewer back into the world that was left at the end of Part 1. (On a completely irrelevant note, the Act III opening number is in the same key and at the same tempo as Britney Spears' "Stronger", which I could not get out of my head as Part 2 began. I'm going to venture a guess that I don't think that's what Heap was going for.)
While I adore Imogen Heap and everything that she has released to date, her recycling of previous material seemed like cheating in a way. Yes, she was technically the composer, but the compositions were not written for the play or even with the play in mind. In general, the musical selections did appropriately match the tones of the corresponding scenes, but because the music was not specifically written for the play, one could probably swap around some of the musical numbers without any discernible effect on the story. Consequently, there was somewhat of a disconnect between the musical interludes and the scenes that they linked. Additionally, typical score elements such as leitmotifs (i.e., a brief, recurrent melody associated with a specific character or location) were almost completely absent, with the exception of Heap's "The Walk" appearing during two scenes set at the Ministry of Magic.
To sum up my thoughts on the music, I felt somewhat underwhelmed, because I was hoping to hear something new from Heap; instead, I mostly just got a rehash of her material. Even after watching it, that the majority of the music was not written for the play bothers me.
Overall, I'm glad I saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and I'm glad I saw it on Broadway, but I won't be the one clamoring to get tickets when it comes to San Francisco next year.
Rather than being a musical, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a play with set changes, transitions, and occasional scenes that are supported by Imogen Heap compositions. There is occasional choreography, whose sole purpose I can only guess is to allow more time for stage hands to set the next scene. The stage work, special effects, and lightning are top-notch. I do not think the story needed to be 4.5 hours long (excluding intermissions); I think the script could have been edited, perhaps by advancing some scenes faster or by cutting a few scenes entirely. Part of the reason I think this is that the plot was more simplistic and far less original than I was expecting it to be. (Spoiler alert: The main plot involves time travel into the past, which messes up the future and must be set right. Like...it's been done before.) I don't feel particularly bad about revealing that "spoiler", even though there is an unspoken pact of maintaining the story's secrecy. ("#KeepTheSecrets" was a hashtag created when the play debuted.) Perhaps it's because of my unfamiliarity with the original Harry Potter story, but the "secrets" that are revealed in the play don't seem to be that revolutionary. As far as I could tell, this play seemed entirely self-contained; that is, none of the plot twists, or "secrets", altered the events or the interpretation of the original series. All the plot twists occur in the alternate timelines generated as a result of the time-travel. So I'm not sure why maintaining secrecy has a heightened profile.
Now...the music. It turns out that the majority of the music is actually material that Imogen Heap had previously released on her albums and was resampled/rearranged for this show. While in the theater, I was able to identify bits from at least 24 distinct songs of hers. Below is the list of tracks on the Cursed Child soundtrack; the Imogen Heap songs that I was able to identify sampled within these tracks are in brackets.
Suite One:
1. Platform 9 3/4 [First Train Home]
2. The Hogwarts Express [The Listening Chair]
3. Welcome to Hogwarts [Lifeline]
4. Wand Dance [Cycle Song]
5. Albus Severus Potter [Wait It Out]
6. The Blanket [The Moment I Said It]
7. Hut on the Rock
8. A Malfoy [Me the Machine]
9. Anything From the Trolley, Dears? [Aha!]
10. Ministry of Magic [The Walk]
11. St. Oswald's
12. Wizarding World [Headlock]
13. Shadows and Spirits [Have You Got it in You?]
Suite Two:
14. Privet Drive [The Beast]
15. McGonagall's Office [Run-Time]
16. The Forbidden Forest
17. Edge of the Forest [Hide and Seek]
18. Dragons! [Tiny Human]
19. Dumbledore [Have You Got it in You?]
20. Staircase Ballet [Half Life]
21. The Duel
22. Invisibility Cloak
23. Moaning Myrtle [Little Bird]
24. Scorpius Alone [You Know Where to Find Me]
Suite Three:
25. A World of Darkness [You Know Where to Find Me]
26. Another Hogwarts [Minds Without Fear]
27. Dementors [2-1]
28. Expecto Patronum
29. In Trouble (Again)
30. Slytherin Dormitory [Climb to Sakteng]
31. The Owlery [You Know Where to Find Me/The Beast]
32. A New Prophecy [Canvas]
33. The Augurey
Suite Four:
34. Extraordinary General Meeting [The Walk]
35. Godric's Hollow [Entanglement]
36. Paint and Memory
37. Something Written [The Moment I Said It]
38. The Final Battle [Closing In/The Beast]
39. The Arrival
40. Lily and James [Climb to Sakteng]
41. Burning Bed
42. A Nice Day [Goodnight and Go]
It is important to note that some portions of the soundtrack do indeed appear to be new material. However, I am not completely familiar with all of Heap's canon, and so if I have missed any songs of hers, I will gladly update this list. (I really want to know exactly how much of the Cursed Child soundtrack was actually new).
Of the material that appears new or new-ish, the highlights are the numbers that close Act II/Suite 2/Part 1 ("Scorpius Alone") and that open Act III/Suite 3/Part 2 ("A World of Darkness"). These numbers occur back-to-back in the storyline, so naturally they convey a similar tone--dark, brooding, and eerie. Because of their similarities, the Act III opening number does an excellent job of bringing the viewer back into the world that was left at the end of Part 1. (On a completely irrelevant note, the Act III opening number is in the same key and at the same tempo as Britney Spears' "Stronger", which I could not get out of my head as Part 2 began. I'm going to venture a guess that I don't think that's what Heap was going for.)
While I adore Imogen Heap and everything that she has released to date, her recycling of previous material seemed like cheating in a way. Yes, she was technically the composer, but the compositions were not written for the play or even with the play in mind. In general, the musical selections did appropriately match the tones of the corresponding scenes, but because the music was not specifically written for the play, one could probably swap around some of the musical numbers without any discernible effect on the story. Consequently, there was somewhat of a disconnect between the musical interludes and the scenes that they linked. Additionally, typical score elements such as leitmotifs (i.e., a brief, recurrent melody associated with a specific character or location) were almost completely absent, with the exception of Heap's "The Walk" appearing during two scenes set at the Ministry of Magic.
To sum up my thoughts on the music, I felt somewhat underwhelmed, because I was hoping to hear something new from Heap; instead, I mostly just got a rehash of her material. Even after watching it, that the majority of the music was not written for the play bothers me.
Overall, I'm glad I saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and I'm glad I saw it on Broadway, but I won't be the one clamoring to get tickets when it comes to San Francisco next year.
Sunday, February 24, 2019
A Manifesto on "Going Out"
It is late in the afternoon on a Monday at Fire Island Pines in the middle
of summer. Hundreds of feet from the ferry dock, the pulsating beat
reverberates through the trees and rattles the boardwalk planks. "Low
Tea" has begun at the Blue Whale. The bar is open, the music is blaring,
and cliques of gay men are accumulating on the deck. In two hours, the ability
to freely circulate about the deck will have all but disappeared due to the
number of bodies present. At this time, this bar will abruptly stop serving and
the music will shut off; instead, music will emanate from the pool deck and the
poolside bar will open. "Low Tea" will have graduated to "Middle
Tea". After another two hours, "High Tea" will begin on the
upper deck of the Pavilion, superseding "Middle Tea". After two more
hours, "High Tea" will officially end; however, the unofficial understanding
is that participants will continue to drink and dance, sometimes until 4 AM.
Come back tomorrow to do it all again.
This daily, up-to-12-hour engagement is a continuous build-up of energy, sexual tension, alcohol, and frivolity. This is arguably the zenith of what "going out" as a gay man means.
The relentless cycle of inanity curtailed my need--even my desire--to "go out", and it has not returned since.
I'm not sure why my experience at Fire Island was the breaking point for me. Countless other times I had gone out to gay bars that offered similar environments: loud music, crowded spaces, overpriced drinks, awkward dancing. But that trip put the nail in the coffin of receiving fulfillment from going out. Perhaps it was that I didn't go with a group of friends. Perhaps it was that there was nothing else to do on the Island at night if you were not drinking and dancing. Perhaps it was that the Tea dance sequence in itself seemed to be the aspiration of every guest on the Island. ("I'll see you at Tea." "Want to meet at Tea tonight?")
By contrast, "going out" has rarely provided value in itself for me. The purpose of going out has generally been to find a means to an end. The desired end would be the formation of relationships with other people, whether platonic, sexual, or both. The more people who were also out, the more probable such a connection would be, my theory held. Therefore, weekend nights, especially during festival weekends (e.g., Pride, Folsom, etc.), were prime opportunities to go out that should not be wasted, despite the fact that placing myself in such environments fundamentally contradicted my introverted nature. Until Fire Island, the risk of missing potential connections or conversations--the "what if" scenario, the fear of missing out, or FOMOTM--many times won out my internal battle of deciding whether to go out.
But let's be real. Many environments associated with "going out" discourage meaningful connections. Whether or not this is intentional is up for debate. The music is too loud, the lighting too dark, and the spaces too crowded. It is not cute to say "what?" after every sentence uttered by someone else and to put your ear inches away from someone else's mouth to hear them. Tone of voice is lost when cracking jokes or puns. Facial expressions and body language are difficult to read amid the reduced lighting punctured by beams of color. A tickle develops in the throat after several attempts to talk over the music.
Perhaps other people truly do find intrinsic value in the activity of going out. But if going out is treated as a means to an end, as it was for me, then a lot more becomes at stake. The entire evening amounts to a complete waste of time if the desired end is not achieved. Going out becomes a gamble that did not pay off. When framed as such, I'm actually surprised that it took me until Fire Island to stop going out.
Of course, it is not as if I will never go out again. Rather, my inclination to seek opportunities to "go out" have remained near zero since Fire Island. If someone wants to meet up at a bar, I am likely to suggest a quieter location that facilitates conversation.
This daily, up-to-12-hour engagement is a continuous build-up of energy, sexual tension, alcohol, and frivolity. This is arguably the zenith of what "going out" as a gay man means.
The relentless cycle of inanity curtailed my need--even my desire--to "go out", and it has not returned since.
I'm not sure why my experience at Fire Island was the breaking point for me. Countless other times I had gone out to gay bars that offered similar environments: loud music, crowded spaces, overpriced drinks, awkward dancing. But that trip put the nail in the coffin of receiving fulfillment from going out. Perhaps it was that I didn't go with a group of friends. Perhaps it was that there was nothing else to do on the Island at night if you were not drinking and dancing. Perhaps it was that the Tea dance sequence in itself seemed to be the aspiration of every guest on the Island. ("I'll see you at Tea." "Want to meet at Tea tonight?")
By contrast, "going out" has rarely provided value in itself for me. The purpose of going out has generally been to find a means to an end. The desired end would be the formation of relationships with other people, whether platonic, sexual, or both. The more people who were also out, the more probable such a connection would be, my theory held. Therefore, weekend nights, especially during festival weekends (e.g., Pride, Folsom, etc.), were prime opportunities to go out that should not be wasted, despite the fact that placing myself in such environments fundamentally contradicted my introverted nature. Until Fire Island, the risk of missing potential connections or conversations--the "what if" scenario, the fear of missing out, or FOMOTM--many times won out my internal battle of deciding whether to go out.
But let's be real. Many environments associated with "going out" discourage meaningful connections. Whether or not this is intentional is up for debate. The music is too loud, the lighting too dark, and the spaces too crowded. It is not cute to say "what?" after every sentence uttered by someone else and to put your ear inches away from someone else's mouth to hear them. Tone of voice is lost when cracking jokes or puns. Facial expressions and body language are difficult to read amid the reduced lighting punctured by beams of color. A tickle develops in the throat after several attempts to talk over the music.
Perhaps other people truly do find intrinsic value in the activity of going out. But if going out is treated as a means to an end, as it was for me, then a lot more becomes at stake. The entire evening amounts to a complete waste of time if the desired end is not achieved. Going out becomes a gamble that did not pay off. When framed as such, I'm actually surprised that it took me until Fire Island to stop going out.
Of course, it is not as if I will never go out again. Rather, my inclination to seek opportunities to "go out" have remained near zero since Fire Island. If someone wants to meet up at a bar, I am likely to suggest a quieter location that facilitates conversation.
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