Interview: Lindsey Drury’s Run Little Girl, at the Merce Cunningham Dance Studio





Choreographer Lindsey Drury on Run Little Girl, the last show to run in the Merce Cunningham Dance Studio. “There’s nothing that I would want to do more than force my horrific ideas onto the bodies of innocent people”.

Interviewer: Cressa Perloff, April 28th, 2012


I Wave My Hands in Front of Me


Aldrin on David Wojnarowicz’ The Waterfront Journals and blessed estrangement from the individual body : “In ‘Diaries of a Wolf Boy,’ the speaker describes himself as a ‘wolf child,’ someone raised in the ‘remote jungles or forests’ and dragged into ‘his schizo-culture, snarling and spitting and walking around on curled knuckles’”.
by Aldrin Valdez, written April 11th, 2012

Interview: Sarah Schulman’s Gentrification of the Mind


We caught up with writer and activist Sarah Schulman and talked to her about her new book Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination. Of course, we did not stay on topic, and the discussion opened up to include OWS, Pinkwashing, Trauma, Sex Wars, Direct Action Tactics, Secret Lesbian Book Exchanges, etc. You know, the usual. Read the first part of the interview

The Courage of Submission


Ella responds to a BOMB interview with Eileen Myles. In particular, the Roberto Rossellini quote “People today only know how to live in society, not in community. The soul of society is the law, the soul of community is love.”

by Ella Boureau written March 26th, 2012

Pink Fog Above



Ted’s reaction to the strange tenseness at the Million Hoodie March : “The rhythm of the mic check and the low beat of the drums. I was late to Union Square. “

by Ted Kerr written March 21, 2012



I went see Salo at the IFC expecting a fight. The kind of “tune in, turn on, get creeped out” internal battle of sexual monsters. If you haven’t heard of Salo, it is Italian poet Pier Paolo Pasolini’s interpretation of the Marquis de Sade’s 120 Day’s of Sodom. Bizarre sexual rites, torture and murder  are committed by 4 powerful Italian collaborators on a group of young adolescents in a remote Italian villa at the tail-end of WWII, which is supposed to be some convenient metaphor for the perversity of fascism, capitalism and western power. The plan was to get hot and bothered, then worry what that meant afterwards. Preferably over margaritas.

So there we were, 2 gays and 1 lesbian in a packed movie house, bristling with apprehension, excitement. The lights went down. Some sweet, lazy pre-war jazz played while the titles rolled “Victims- Male”, “Victims- Female”, “Fascists”, “Servants”. I settled into my seat. This was gonna be so fucked up. Continue Reading