Issue 19 - noiZe Magazine

Table of Contents
Click on any article to view
by Jeff Gill .................................................. 11
Life’s Lessons
The Ears Have It ..................................................................14
Favorite Internet Trash
Gymania
by Mark Martin .............................. 19
by Cristopher Blake .............................................. 20
by Alan Brown.................... 27
GMHC Morning Party ‘83-’98
by Steve Kammon ........................................ 34
Miami Whites
Cultivating Erotic Energy…
by John Ballew ...................... 38
Sex as a Strategy for Survival
Late Night
Panic Pump
by Eric Rofes .................... 42
by Cristopher Blake............................................ 46
by David Sloniegura ........................................ 48
Spring Circuit Schedule ......................................................52
Circuit Sounds
by David Knapp & Jay Jimenez .................... 70
Much More Than Just A Party
by Dennis Fleming ............ 72
What Does ‘Circuit Music’ Mean?
Hello Dolly
by DJ Rick Mitchell .... 74
by Steve Kammon ............................................ 76
Circuit
5
Noize
TM
From the Editor
The photo on the cover of this issue is one taken
last year at the Carnivale in Rio. This party clearly
demonstrates that Brazilian society is an example of
one which has integrated the concept of celebration
into the core fabric of the society itself. There is a far
healthier attitude in Rio by all levels of society towards
the concept of blowing off steam in a communal or
urban-tribal setting. The celebrations of Carnivale,
centered in dance, are rich in creativity and the
influence of the forces of eros. The party is as extreme
in its traditions as any circuit event.
Brazilian society provides a very interesting
contrast to our own, where these mores are not the
socially-accepted norm. Consequently, both those
who party and those who eschew the party are
juxtaposed in opposite and equally unhealthy states.
The battle between these two forces within the
gay community has come to a head. For some reason,
the little island resort off of Long Island, long
infamous for its gay-friendly attitude, gay over-run
lifestyle (especially in the summer) and its jet-set,
upwardly-mobile clientele, has been at the front lines
of the anti-circuit debate for the last several years.
GMHC, New York’s mammoth gay health
organization has been the sole beneficiary of one of the
most profitable circuit parties, the Morning Party,
since its inception. This event was one of the big ones.
One with a worldwide reputation. One that certain
boys, especially New York boys, wouldn’t dream of
missing. Raising hundreds of thousands of dollars
each year for a worthy cause, this venerable old circuit
party has now become the first victim to the anticircuit rhetoric of the right. The thing that is different
about this right wing is that it is within the gay
community, not without. The new gay right, lead by
Mr. Signorile and Mr. Rotello, lead the charge, putting
GMHC into such a tenable position that they have
decided not to throw the party.
There’s one clear way to thumb our noses at
those who have cancelled our party and to do it in a
Ghandi-esque way, that is, without being
confrontational. Let’s have the party anyhow! The
huge beach gala that had 5000 boys dancing on the
sand may or may not happen. But we can still have
the part of our celebration which made this event so
over-the-top special in the first place - the week that
follows the scheduled Morning Party. Morning Party
should have been on August 15. Let’s make the
following week more memorable than ever!
As we went to print, word from “The Island”
was that one and possibly two events were already on
the drawing boards to replace the Morning Party.
Check our website: www.partyfinder.com for the latest
information.
-Steve Kammon
Circuit
Editor in Chief
Publisher
Advertising Sales
National Advertising Rep
Art Director
Copy Editor
Promotions
Cover Photo
Accent Nude Photos
Circuit Photos
Writers and Contributors
East Coast Office
West Coast Office
E-mail
Website
Steve Kammon
Stephen Ceplenski
Gary Steinberg
818-769-9390
Michael Spicola
954-764-8210
Fred Halter
Rivendell Marketing
Company, Inc.
212-242-6863
Klaus Gerhart
Jeff Taylor
Circuit Boyz Productions
Richard Heimann
Klaus Gerhart
Circuit Boyz Productions
Michael Lee
Michael Bazinet
Dominic Fuizzoto
Jocelyn Michel
Luc Richard
Rob Kallman
Richard Garcia
Mark Martin
Jeff Gill
John Ballew
Eric Rofes
Alan Brown
Cristopher Blake
David Knapp
Jay Jimenez
David Sloniegura
Dennis Fleming
Rick Mitchell
Gary Steinberg
PO Box 22656
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33335
954-764-8210 (voice)
954-764-6392 (fax)
11288 Ventura Blvd #700
Studio City, CA 91604
818-769-9390 (voice)
818-769-5482 (fax)
[email protected]
www.circuitnoize.com
Copyright 1998 Circuit Noize. All rights reserved. Contents may
not be reproduced without permission from the publisher.
Publication of name or photo of any person or organization in
Circuit Noize is not to be construed as any indication of the
sexual orientation of that person or organization.
Published in February, May, August and November
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Favorite Internet Trash
by Mark Martin
This little ditty made wide rounds on the internet. If you’re a
circuit boy with internet access that didn’t see this one - you’re a
bit out of the loop! But for all those circuit boyz without
internet access, we reprint this sad but true and very funny tune.
Sing this tune to the Sound of Music song “Favorite Things”
Bullets and bumpers and yellow sunglasses;
Barbacks and doormen with tight little asses;
Tattoos and Levis on every queen;
These are all part of the gay circuit scene!
Dealers and bouncers and homely fag-haggies;
Uppers and downers in clear plastic baggies;
Hot shorts and cock rings and all things obscene;
These are all part of the gay circuit scene!
Glo-sticks and Blow Pops and loud metal whistles;
Tearing your skin on unshaven back-bristles;
K-Holes and O.D.’s becoming routine;
These are all part of the gay circuit scene!
REFRAIN:
When my week bites, when my job sucks,
When my life is sad,
I simply retreat to the gay circuit scene,
And then I don’t feel ... anything?
Miss Morabito and Victor and Abel;
Junior (who spins like my dead grandma Mabel);
Tic-Tacs and Tina to make you so lean;
This is all part of the gay circuit scene!
Cher and Madonna and Cher and Madonna;
Cher and Madonna and Cher and Madonna;
Cher and Madonna - you know what I mean;
They are all part of the gay circuit scene!
Tickets and lines and that rat-#%&$%@, Sanker;
Curse her, berate her, then pay her and thank her;
My wallet is empty of all that is green;
This is all part of the gay circuit scene!
REFRAIN:
When the gym’s closed, after hours,
And I’m going mad,
I simply retreat to the gay circuit scene,
And then I don’t feel ... what was the question?
…climb THAT mountain, Maria!
Circuit
19
Noize
Sex as a Strategy for Survival
by Eric Rofes
Many gay men consider sex to be an activity of central value to
our identities and our lives. We may see it as a survival
strategy that makes living satisfying and worthwhile. This
does not mean we are obsessed with sex or have no interests or
activities besides sex. It means we value the acting-out of our
desires and will not necessarily give them
up in a grand gesture of sacrifice to the
neo-Puritanism of our times or the terrors
of an epidemic. We may understand that,
in the value system of heterosexual
America (and an increasingly-large
segment of the queer nation), a long life
and safety are supposed to be motivation
enough to throw a cold blanket over our
smoldering desires, but many gay men will
not give up meaningful sexual acts
uncritically or forever.
The past year’s debates in
Washington, DC, which focused on the
extramarital affairs of both the President
and an increasing number of members of
Congress may indicate that HetAmerika
could learn a thing or two from gay men’s
sexual cultures. Judging from what we’ve
learned about the ways in which
Representatives Henry Hyde (Illinois),
Helen Chenoweth (Idaho), and Robert
Livingston (Louisiana) fulfill their
marriage vows, is it any wonder we’re
facing an act opposing gay marriage called
the “Defense of Marriage Act”? If the
institution of marriage needs defending,
it’s not queers who threaten it, but the
hypocrisy of heterosexuals.
It seems clear that many men (and
some women) promise monogamy, put on
elaborate public performances of
coupledom, and wrap themselves smugly
in so-called “family values,” yet the lives
they lead are filled with contradictions.
When Henry Hyde was having what we
are supposed to believe was his single
extramarital affair in the 1970s (just like so
many newly-infected gay men claim they
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had unprotected sex only once, while studies clearly
indicate otherwise), he was leading the fight against
reproductive freedom for women by opposing the
funding of birth control and abortion services. I
served my time on picket lines twenty years ago
fighting the Hyde Amendment, which restricted
reproductive services to poor women in the U.S.
How does Hyde put this together with his politics?
Did his girlfriend use birth control? If she became
pregnant, did he insist she carry the fetus to term and
raise his love child?
I believe many of these public officials elected
with the support of the Christian Coalition believe
what’s important is not whether you have sex outside
of marriage, but whether you feel guilty about it and
whether you confess it with shame when you are
exposed. For all I know, their sex lives are just as
active and creative as many gay men’s, with the only
difference being they occupy a culture which
demands guilt and shame for their sexual pleasures
and we occupy a culture which often couldn’t care
less about individual men’s sex lives.
Many gay men who value an active sex life and
respect the transformative power of our erotic
encounters, have organized forms of relationship
distinct from traditional monogamous marriage. We
may share the president’s apparent penchant for
phone sex, cigar sex, and trysts in risky places, but we
tend to create arrangements with our partners which
allow us to do so without guilt or lying. Whether we
have a “don’t ask, don’t tell” arrangement with our
lovers, or whether they eagerly enjoy hearing the
details of our encounters, “cheating” is not about
enjoying outside sex.
This is why I become concerned when gay men
talk longingly about heterosexual marriage and
romance patterns without a critical eye on the
contradictions between rhetoric and reality. What is
it they envy? The public acceptance? The stamp of
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approval of the state, the church, and legal
authorities? The home, the children, the Irish Setter?
For gay men who find that heterosexual
marriage offers useful models for relationshipbuilding, I encourage them to beware of the pitfalls
and the contradictions. For those who seek models of
relationship, sex, and friendship which break out of
the patterns of deception, contradiction, and
gendered power plays, I’d encourage them to critically
consider the ways many urban gay men organize their
lives.
Some of us feel that our sex is a key part of what
makes life worth living. When we are out there on
the dance floor, feeling the music pulse through us,
we are celebrating our membership in the tribe, but
also the joy of men’s bodies in motion. When we are
engaged in so-called anonymous encounters, we can
learn more about a man’s core issues—his relationship
to power, masculinity, trust—than we know about
the men with whom we’ve worked in our jobs for
years. For many gay men, the most difficult part of
growing older is fearing our waning value in the
sexual arena. Happily, various gay cultures—
including circuit culture—are increasingly populated
by men in their 40s, 50s, and yes, even their 60s, who
maintain an active sex life well beyond the time they’d
expected to be fully alienated from “the gay scene.”
The fact is, heterosexuals increasingly envy
those aspects of gay men’s culture which value
pleasure, sexuality, and friendship over marriage and
the nuclear family. They recognize what some gay
men have understood for a very long time: that the
lover you seek in your 20s may not be a suitable lover
for you in your 40s; that sex may be important, but
that companionship and the pleasures of everyday
living may be more critical qualities to relationshipbuilding; that, for many of us, the people who will
see us through large portions of our lives aren’t our
lovers but are our friends, dance partners,
fuckbuddies, and comrades in the queer nation.
Some of us get much more meaning and pleasure out
of large social groups—our tribes—than we do out of
a one-on-one relationship. This makes us neither
narcissistic, lonely, nor pathetic. It simply makes us
honest about the ways in which we want to organize
our everyday lives.
Eric Rofes is the author of “Dry Bones Breathe:
Gay Men Creating Post-Aids Identities and
Cultures” and “Reviving the Tribe: Regenerating
Gay Men’s Sexuality and Culture in the Ongoing
Epidemic.” He currently lives in Mid-Coast Maine
and in the Castro District of San Francisco.
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The Ears Have It
…you never know who’s listening
“Somebody’s knocking at my backdoor.”
“I smell burning rubber.”
“Topo bad you don’t have any lube,
“Can you use more lube?”
you could let them in.”
“Well I thought she was a top.
–Two sisters’ dance floor conversation
I got those pants off and he had a
when one is being ‘back attacked’
nice fat dick. Then the full moon
started rising. I said, ‘Honey,
“There’s something else I forgot,
the full moon isn’t due for a
but I can’t remember …”
couple of weeks.’”
“That guy I hooked up with last night
“I do drugs to make
was incredible! He fucked me so hard,
other people interesting”
my MOTHER came!”
“Have you heard of that new thing
“Did you have a good trip?”
the boys are doing called Glycerol?
“Are you talking about friday night’s
or Saturday night’s?”
It takes all the liquids out of your body
to make you tight all over.”
“We’re all fucked up
“It takes ALL the liquids
…just not the way we should be.”
out of your body!?!
Wouldn’t that give you a heart attack?”
“God, I am so tired.
“Honey, if it took ALL of the liquids
If I’m gonna have sex,
out of your body
it will have to be a 3-way.
they could use it to do the final exit
I need someone to hold my legs up.”
of the Wicked Witch
in the ‘Wizard of Oz’
“Do you need oxygen?”
without any special effects.”
–asked of a spent partier by a knowing
flight attendant on the flight home
“I can’t believe you let me fuck
from Montreal after Black and Blue.
with hair like that!”
Circuit
14
Noize
Life’s Lessons
There are many poignant lessons to be learned throughout life. Some examples of these
lessons are printed in the first column below. Each of these life lessons has a corresponding
lesson that applies exclusively to the life of a party boy, which is listed in the second column.
I’ve learned - that it takes years to build up trust,
»»»
and only seconds to destroy it.
by Jeff Gill
I’ve learned - it takes years to build up trust,
but only a few weeks to build up biceps.
I’ve learned - that you can get by on charm for
»»»
about fifteen minutes.
After that, you’d better know something.
I’ve learned - you can get by on charm for about
fifteen minutes,
After that, pray for good lighting.
I’ve learned - that it’s taking me a long time
»»»
to become the person I want to be.
I’ve learned - it’s taking me a long time to become
the person I want to be; that’s why I do steroids.
I’ve learned - that you should always leave loved
»»»
ones with loving words.
It may be the last time you see them.
I’ve learned - you should always leave loved ones
with loving words.
You may need something from them later.
I’ve learned - that my best friend and I can do
»»»
anything or nothing
and have the best time.
I’ve learned - my best friend and I can do
anything or nothing
as long as we have enough K to keep us happy.
I’ve learned - that maturity has more to do with
»»»
what types of experiences you’ve had and what
you’ve learned from them and less to do with how
many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
I’ve learned - maturity has more to do with the
types of experiences you’ve had and what
you’ve learned from them and less to do with how
many Ms. Tragic Pageant’s you’ve performed in.
I’ve learned - that our background and
»»»
circumstances may have influenced who we are,
but we are responsible for who we become.
I’ve learned - our background and circumcisions
may have influenced who we are,
but our choice of outfits determines who we become.
I’ve learned - that we don’t have to change friends
»»»
if we understand that
friends change.
I’ve learned - you don’t have to change friends
when you can just continue to hang around with
them and make them miserable.
I’ve learned - that you can do something in an
»»»
instant that will give you heartache for life.
I’ve learned - that you can do something in an
instant that will keep you awake for days.
I’ve learned - that you can keep going long after
»»»
you can’t.
I’ve learned - that you can keep going long after
you can’t. Thank you Viagra.
I’ve learned - that no matter how you try to
»»»
protect your children, they will eventually get
hurt and you will hurt in the process.
I’ve learned - that no matter how you try to
protect your children, you are just
always so shocked that you HAVE children at all.
I’ve learned - that two people can look at the
»»»
exact same thing and see something totally
different.
I’ve learned - that two people can look at the
exact same thing and see something
totally different especially on mushrooms.
I’ve learned - that you cannot make someone love you.
»»»
All you can do is be someone who can be loved.
The rest is up to them.
I’ve learned tha t you cannot make someone love you,
but the more I tan and bleach my teeth
the friendlier people are to me.
I’ve learned - that it’s not what you have in your
»»»
life but who you have in your life that counts.
I’ve learned - it’s not what you have in your life
but who you do that counts.
I’ve learned - that credentials on the wall do not
»»»
make you a decent human being.
I’ve learned - that credentials on the wall do not
make you a decent human being
but that lighting effects sewn into an outfit
makes you the hit of a party.
Circuit
11
Noize
Miami Whites
by Steve Kammon
Some of the nation’s parties have become a very predictable
experience. These parties are often the ones that are very
strictly controlled by a benefit organization and thus the party
remains relatively faithful to the same formula each year.
Other parties happen in cities where the party scene is in
constant flux as competing promoters
each vie for their share of the party boy’s
pocket book. It is doubtful that any city
can boast more promoters than Miami,
where it seems that every year there is a
new wrinkle in the competition to hold
the fiercest party.
And just as
competition is responsible for the robust
health of the American economy, this
competition seems to make the White
Party in Miami one of the richest party
experiences on the circuit today.
In an effort to start the weekend
slowly, I missed the kick-off party at
Warsaw, but the reviews on the street
gave it an A+ for transforming the space
into an Arabian Night’s dream.
Thursday’s “One Night in Heaven”
featured music that was classic Danny
Tenaglia, as he interspersed a very
modern driving beat with pregnant
pauses of rich trance-like sounds. While
some dislike these pauses, I find their
timing to be just perfect for catching
your breath in between the intense
pounding rhythm, chatting to a friend or
getting a drink. The space hadn’t been
decorated at all, but since it was already
packed with gorgeous tourists providing
a lovely backdrop and since most had
never seen the inside of the Shadow
Lounge, this hardly seemed an issue.
Friday afternoon featured a fullscale beach party complete with the
perfect weather which the Goddess
bestowed on us all weekend long. Rick
Mitchell kept the dance floor hopping on
a dance floor chock full of the amazing
bodies that looked all the more amazing
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in the sunlight. A Jocko fashion show, complete
with fun choreography, provided an entertaining
break in the action.
The anticipation for Friday night’s Snowball
at the Miami Beach Convention Center was
palpable. This event has become the biggest of the
weekend since this is the only space that can really
comfortably contain the number of boys that
would like to attend the major events of the
weekend. Jeffery Sanker and Twilo co-hosted this
year and did not disappoint with an outrageous
transformation of the large boxy space into an
interesting spectacle of glowing tusks and fantastic
lighting effects. The boys turned out in droves
undeterred by the highest cover charge of the
weekend. The dance intermission provided an
intense Egyptian-styled pageant with amazing
costumes and interesting acrobatic feats. But the
reviews of the party were an almost unanimous
thumbs down, as all of Jeffrey’s promotional genius
could not overcome music that could only be
described as dance floor torture.
We may never know why Junior chose this
night, which could expose his vast musical talent to
the largest collection of circuit boys he’s ever
encountered, to instead display one of his infamous
mood swings. It was expected that those from the
West Coast would be disappointed with Junior’s
hard New York sound, but even those who are
Junior devotees agreed that the evening’s acoustical
accompaniment was more like noise than dance
music. Furious party boys seemed to be talking
about it at every opportunity through the
remainder of the weekend - I even saw boys with
stickers on their bodies on Sunday with cutting
sayings like, “Bounty Junior - the world’s most selfabsorbed DJ.” The only nice thing anyone had to
say came from Lark Bennet (one of the
chairpersons of the benefit weekend), who
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informed me that Junior had been very generous
with them over the years, donating his time at the
previous year’s Terminal Twelve party and even
paying for his own air transportation. This isn’t
likely to earn the forgiveness of the circuit boys
who’d experienced their worst white-mare under
Junior’s direction.
The afterhours at Warsaw was packed early
with those seeking the dance floor therapy of Mark
Vallese. His pop circuit sound was a welcome relief
for many a traumatized party boy. Able completed
this therapy at Salvation on Saturday night. At
home in the Salvation space, he turned it out for
the weekend’s visitors. Able is known for his Latininfluenced hardcore sound but on this night,
perhaps aware of Friday night’s fiasco, he
maintained a much more pop-influenced sound,
slowly transitioning into his more typical signature
Miami tone. This willingness to play to the crowd
is what makes a great DJ - after all, isn’t the DJ’s job
more about pleasing the crowd than creating some
bizarre art form for the sake of the art itself?
The breathtaking Vizcaya provided the
circuit’s most gorgeous backdrop. David Knapp
spun this party for the sixth year in a row creating a
lovely tapestry of new mixes of circuit classics, pop
songs, and some of David’s more typical funky
groove. Food that was aesthetically pleasing to both
the eye and the palette was served in the Victorian
gardens where angelic white costume creations
floated amidst bountiful white twinkle lights. The
dance floor seemed to hang above the amazing vista
of Bizcayne Bay. The party was much the same as it
has been every year for the last six years, but when
you’ve found a party formula for perfection, why
change it?
The alternate Sunday Tea at Score was
outrageous, where a packed house overflowed into
the Lincoln Road mall and the white tent erected in
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the rear of this incredible party space.
The formula for this Sunday Tea is that
the sound is shut down at nine o’clock
sharp - which has forced the boys to
come out early on Sunday and has
somehow created a magical, rowdy
atmosphere that is a new experience in
Miami.
Many of the professional party
boys with connections opted for the
classic circuit sounds of Monty Q at the
Phoenix Rising party on Sunday night.
But the Noche Blanca party, hosted by
Liquid at the Cameo Theater, was
undoubtedly the piece-de-resistance of
the weekend. While the space was a
little too small to hold the number of
attendees, it was hard to be annoyed at
being squished up against the now
totally cut-up bodies in attendance.
Victor Calderone played his signature
hard New York sound, yet even those
that prefer a more classic circuit sound
seemed transfixed by his magic. I can’t
imagine a more perfect ending to this
fantastic weekend of dance than the
sentiment expressed in the encore remix
of Madonna’s “Nothing Really Matters,”
“Nothing really matters,
Love is all you need.
Everything I give you,
All comes back to me...”
I gladly accepted the sunglasses being
handed out by the considerate Liquid
promoter Jack Bengio and made my way
home through the bright Miami
sunshine.
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Gymania
by Cristopher Blake
I can tell it’s going to be a busy night at the clubs by the
number of guys at the gym that day attempting to add half an
inch to their chest in 45 minutes. There was a huge party at a
very popular club on Saturday night and, sure enough, all day
my gym had a 40-minute wait for the incline press, a
25-minute wait for the leg extension,
and 2 hours for Space Mountain.
I left my old gym and joined this
new one mainly because I’d heard that it
wasn’t crowded. I need to point out
that “crowded” is a relative term. I’ve
since learned that the gym is “not
crowded” when you don’t have to call in
advance and use a credit card to reserve
locker space.
I’m paying a lot more money for
membership at this gym too. My
thinking was that, due to the more
serious expense, the gym’s general
membership would also be more serious
and therefore limited to a small number
of experienced individuals. These
individuals would subsequently not be
the kind of guys with poor gym
etiquette. Let me see if I can think of
an example. Hmmm. Let’s see. Maybe
it would be the expectation of an
amateur of his right to work in with me
even when he is going to change all the
weight on the bar so that I have to
spend ten minutes before each set
putting all my plates back on the
apparatus while they stand there
gabbing with their little friends who are
so skinny they have to run around in the
shower to get wet and they don’t even
notice that it’s their turn or that I’m
about to bludgeon them with a chair.
You’d think that having gym dues
that exceed your mortgage payments
would insure that scenarios, such as the
example above, would not occur. That
hasn’t been the case. Every gym in the
Circuit
entire world is apparently bound, by karmic law,
to sell memberships to persons with the exercise
prowess of a cadaver. The gyms apparently do
this, and I’m guessing here, so that there’ll always
be enough slow, inexperienced people at the gym
whose purpose doesn’t so much seem to be the
pursuit of personal fitness as much as to get on the
equipment immediately before me. You all know
who I’m talking about. These people, as you may
have guessed, are the same ones you’ve seen trying
to do calf raises on a deltoid machine.
Now, I know I personally have occasionally
been equally annoying to other gym patrons.
Though, this has mostly been in the form of me
happening to be on the biceps machine when a
man the size of a cargo-bearing aircraft, with
steroids pulsing through every vein and squirting
out of his nipples, informs me that he needs to use
my machine in order to complete his circuit
training in the next 8 seconds. Otherwise he will
immediately deflate and be forced to walk around
with enough sagging extra skin to graft the entire
bodies of two thin teenagers. In this situation, I
always let the guy do whatever he wants. This is
because I believe it is fundamentally unhealthy to
argue with a man who, for breakfast, literally had
a cow.
The bottom line is, the only real difference
with this gym has turned out to be better lighting,
lockers that are made of wood, and the fact that
I’m paying a lot more money for membership.
Just to aggravate the situation, the big party
weekends create a very tense atmosphere on the
weight floor between these groups of people, all of
whom have shown up because they have to go to
the gym before they go out. You’ll see all the same
guys at the gym that afternoon that you’ll see in
the club (and most of them will be in the same
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outfit). I can only speculate as to why this is. I
suppose it could have something to do with their
superstitions about how to create a successful
evening, much in the same way avid sports
enthusiasts have eccentric rituals that they feel will
help them perform. For example, some baseball
players may don their lucky underwear, golfers
polish their magic putters, and similarly, circuit
boys feel they must spend an hour and a half
lifting enough weight in iron to tear every tendon
below their neck.
It’s a difficult and hazardous environment.
There’s little social interaction with the exception
of “How many sets do you have left?” and “Could
you spot me?” and “Ooh, look! That big guy just
‘roid raged all over that skinny guy and made him
eat a floor mat!”
The locker room is no better. No matter
which locker I choose, even if it’s in the most
remote corner and there are no occupied lockers
for miles around it, when I’m ready to leave each
locker directly below or next to mine will hold the
belongings of someone who just finished 5 hours
on the treadmill and has come into the locker
room to sweat on me.
I have to admit it’s a relief to get through
with a workout and then be able to feel good
about yourself in a nightclub. Anyone who’s been
out in any Western metropolis in the last ten years
knows that guys don’t wear shirts in night clubs
and you’re judged solely on the basis of pectoral
protrudence.
Now, safely out of the gym, I can relax, put
on some boots and a different pair of gym pants
(hopefully) and dance with friends, who may even
comment “Hey, you look great!” or “Have you
gotten bigger?” or “Ooh, look! That big guy made
that other guy eat a cocktail napkin!”
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21
Noize
Late Night
by Cristopher Blake
Ever get to a club on a Saturday night, dance for hours and
hours, socialize for more hours and hours, dance for still more
hours, and then, even though the party is still going strong and
the music is perfect, just decide to leave? Me neither. That’s
why I thought my friend was insane when he suggested out
of the blue that we should go home.
“Why?” I asked. “Because it’s late?” “No,”
he said. “Because it’s Tuesday.”
It’s so easy to lose track of time when
the room is really energized. I have a hard
time talking myself into going home to
bed when there are still hundreds of guys
around me having a great time, and not
one of them has yet agreed to come with
me. But that doesn’t account for the entire
phenomenon.
My suspicion is that a lot of guys
stay so long at a club because they have
not only lost track of time, but also space,
dimension, their equilibrium, and the
pants they were originally wearing. Add to
that the large percentage who have also
lost the ability to blink, pronounce
consonants, and to successfully identify
their own species. Therefore, I’ve
determined that everyone that stays really,
really late at a club is not so much
behaving indulgently as they are acting
responsibly: They’re refraining from
operating a motor vehicle until they’re
either totally back to normal, or they’ve
been able to at least recall where it is
exactly that they live.
Even recognizing the civic
responsibility in dancing to the wee hours,
I still suggest there could be such a thing
as “staying too long at the dance.” The
fact that this phrase is almost completely
unheard is a signal that either a) none of
this is at all a real problem for the vast
majority of people, or b) everyone is in
deep, deep denial. Maybe it’s not denial
exactly, but I think the perspective may be
a little tainted for some of us. By “some of
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us,” I, of course, mean to say, “those of us who’ve ever
had several days of mail build up at our homes while
we’re at the same party.” After pulling off that stunt a
couple times, it can still feel like we’re leaving a party
early even after the sun comes up. It still feels early to
us even if, while driving home, we end up sitting at a
traffic light next to people on their way to a late
Sunday mass. I try to avoid their attention when this
happens. Sometimes they throw holy water.
I suppose it’s OK not to sleep very much when
we’re out of town on one of those long weekends
where there’s a new party starting every 19 minutes
over the course of three to five days. This is when
you really have to have a plan, or else you could wind
up missing whole calendar days just trying to attend
all the best parties. “All right, we’ll start out at
Shangri-La, then head over to Xanadu, after that
we’ll try to get into After Zone, then, if there’s a good
DJ, we’ll go to After Puke, or maybe The Zombie
Ball, then the Cardio Hemorrhage Party, or the
Chemical Coma Club, then the Respiratory Failure
Ball, and the Kidney and Liver Damage Dance.”
During these kinds of summer weekends, it’s
not uncommon for guys to leave a club and be totally
stunned to discover not only that they missed the
entire morning, but that they also missed Labor Day.
It’s no wonder local clubs are still packed when
the sun comes up. We’re systematically training
ourselves not to notice little indications of time
passing, such as general fatigue, the position of the
sun, or significant glacier movement. Instead, most
of us have modified our sense of time to be sensitive
to alternative indications, such as:
• The DJ is getting desperate for material and is
playing KC and the Sunshine Band.
• You realize all the club lights have come on.
• You realize all the club lights have come on and
you’re lying in a pile of empty water bottles being
hit in the head with a push broom.
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One solution I have is to wait to go out until
late in order to enjoy the highlight or “peak” hours
of the club. This way I don’t spend quite so much
time getting schnocked. This is helpful in that I’m
much less likely to do anything foolish, such as get
on top of something and dance, only to realize later
that I’m in the parking lot. Which wouldn’t be so
bad, if I could find my pants.
What I do is this: I sit lazily around the house
and don’t even begin to get ready to go out until
Saturday Night Live is over. That way I’ll arrive at
the club smack in the middle of the prime of the
evening. By “prime of the evening,” I, of course,
mean to say, “after most of the guys have had
enough intoxicants to forget that they’re snotty
bitches, but before they begin vomiting on each
other.” There are other significant advantages to
arriving at a club at this time.
• You can still be looked at as “new meat,” even if
you’ve already slept with everyone in the building
except Barney, the one-armed bar back.
• You won’t have to worry about being on the guest
list, because there will most likely not be any
stupid line and the door man will not be busy
explaining to the person in front of you that their
Ralphs Club Card is not acceptable
identification.
One disadvantage to arriving late at a popular
club is that sometimes you’ll have to park far away.
By “far away,” I, of course, mean to say, “Argentina.”
Though now, even if you stay at the club until
closing, you still will not have spent so much time as
to require sending change of residence notification
to the DMV.
It’s still a good idea to get home as quickly as
you can and get some rest. It’s important to get as
much sleep as possible, as it’s essential to
maintaining your health. And also since T-dance
usually starts around 4:00.
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47
Noize
Cultivating Erotic Energy & Joy
and a Sense of the Sacred with a Partner
by John Ballew
Intimacy requires us to let go of our barriers so we become
present to our partner as he truly is and to ourselves as we
truly are. We are required to lay down our defenses. This is not
easy. Boys are not taught the same emotional vocabulary as
girls. Boys are too often taught to ignore their feelings,
especially vulnerable feelings. A boy
crying after a physical or emotional hurt
is often the subject of ridicule by other
little boys. Small wonder that little boys
who have learned to stifle their feelings
grow into men who aren’t certain what
they are feeling.
To cultivate true joy in our
relationships, we must allow ourselves to
be open. You can’t be defended against
potential pain without also being
defended against potential joy. This is
even more of a challenge because most
of us have been wounded by other men.
These wounds weren’t necessarily
inflicted by someone who intended
harm,
but
disappointments,
embarrassments and so forth have a
cumulative effect. These wounds are
inevitable, and they can color our
relationships with men in subtle or notso-subtle ways years after the original
event.
One of the first challenges of
cultivating joy and a sense of the sacred,
then, is choosing someone with whom
we feel safe in being ourselves. For good
reason, most of us need to feel safe
before we can allow ourselves to be
open. In matters of intimacy, it is
critical to feel that our partner has
concern for our well-being as well as his
own. If that sense of safety is lacking, no
amount of erotic passion will be enough
to allow us to open our deepest selves to
our partner.
In practical terms, this means that
while it is possible to have deeply
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meaningful sex with someone whom you’ve just
met, in most cases casual sex isn’t going to provide
us with the sense of safety that allows us to be
completely present with another.
Since our culture has no tradition of
sexuality or love as a spiritual practice, talking
about this with a partner requires us to become
vulnerable from the outset of the conversation. So
the first step after finding a person with whom
you feel safe allowing yourself to become
vulnerable is to initiate a conversation about
deeper intimacy and spirituality. Recognize
such matters are “core places” for most of us. It’s
rarely useful to come off as some sort of authority
who has all the answers — although many men
may be grateful when their partner takes the lead.
Create a relaxed environment that invites
conversation. Avoid nervous laughter, which can
be misunderstood. Take the initiative in opening
up. Speak about your desires and your love for
your partner. You may feel vulnerable; that's fine.
In lowering your defenses with a partner who
loves you, you become safer. Don’t become
defensive. Remember: you are offering an
invitation, not issuing a command.
Some couples find that creating sacred
space helps these conversations to happen more
easily. When candles are lit and soft music is
playing, they signal one another that conversation
is going to take place that comes from the heart,
not from a place of argument or judgment.
Consider what ground rules may help the process.
Useful steps include making “I statements” (for
example, “I want to find new ways to be more
passionate together”). Avoid arguments. Listen
deeply. Speak softly. Hold hands when in sacred
space; physical connection is important. These are
conversations beyond right and wrong; they are
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conversations about nourishing one another and
the relationship you share. Speak from your heart.
Name your desire for your partner. Agree not to
laugh or ridicule your partner — especially in any
matter where he is expressing his love for you..
After building a common commitment,
relax, breathe and become truly present to one
another. Consider massaging each other’s hands
— 5 minutes per hand — 20 minutes total. Sink
into the sensation. Let go of criticism or
expectations. Allow your hands to wake up. Sit
facing one another, lightly holding each others
hands. Gaze into the other’s eyes. Allow your
partner to look inside you. Let your face relax,
maybe smiling a bit. Welcome “the look.” Be aware
that our culture has a taboo against looking too
directly at another. Notice feelings of discomfort
and let them pass. Notice feelings of heat, energy
and passion that may emerge. Enjoy them!
Notice your breathing. Is your breathing
shallow? You may be cutting yourself off from
sensation. Take easy, gentle, deep breaths. Allow
your shoulders to droop. Sigh as you exhale. If it
feels like fun, make sexy little sounds. Continue
looking into your lover’s eyes. Breathing helps the
body to relax and to awaken at the same time.
Touch your partner’s face. Take your hand
and lightly touch his cheek. Trace the outline of
his jaw. Trace the outline of his lips. When his
fingers pass your lips, lightly lick them. There is no
goal here except to be with your partner and savor
this touch — this touch, neither discounting it
nor rushing into genital touch.
Let go of any goal other than being with this
man and sharing touch. Let go of any need to do
anything else. Can you let go of thinking about
erections and sex acts and simply focus on
pleasuring one another? There is no need to “do”
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anything. It is enough simply to be with
this man. Sink into it.
A simple but powerful ritual is
to undress one another while
honoring each other’s body. Western
spiritual tradition teaches that this
being with whom you share space is
created in the image of God. That’s not
the way we often treat one another.
Can you slow down and feel a sense of
awe in his presence? Can you recall
what it was first like to have permission
to touch another man whom you
desired?
Allow your passion to increase
slowly. What’s the hurry? Take your
time. In this space, with this man, time
need not exist.
Can you relax into orgasm rather
than holding your body more and more
tensely? Doing so will enhance the
sensations of ecstasy. Enjoy the
sensations that come after orgasm.
Don’t do anything; practice simply
being with your partner. Doing so
allows this highly energized state to
continue vibrating within each man.
Slow your touching — but remain
awake! Notice what is happening in
your heart. There is much wisdom
available to us in this post-orgasmic
state. Allow it to wash over you.
This is your birthright as a man
who loves men.
39
John Ballew can be reached at
www.bodymindsoul.org or
[email protected].
Noize
Much More than Just a Party
by Dennis Fleming
As I approached the crowd at this year’s White Party at beautiful Villa
Viscaya in Miami, a reporter darted toward me with his camera crew diligently
in tow. I am not quite sure why he picked me. It must have been my outfit.
The array of white satin, Spandex, leather, plastic, lace, feathers and tulle
(with a hint of silver lamé) led to an appearance of something between
Doris Duke and a Puerto Rican bridesmaid. He proceeded to bombard me
with an array of common questions that quickly lost my attention until he
asked, “How does this compare to all the other parties on South Beach this
week?”
Well, I thought to myself, this event is just more beautiful. No
nightclub or convention center, no matter how fabulously transformed can
be placed in the same category as Viscaya. The grandeur and resplendence
of this creation alone is sufficient to take one’s breath away. Couple that
with an aesthetically pleasing crowd draped in every form of fashionable
white attire, majestic boats sparkling in the boat slips and an eclectic mix of
art and entertainment (including David Knapp at the turntables) and this
night rises unaccompanied to the pinnacle of gay circuit parties. “But is
that really why we are here?” I asked myself.
So I repeated the reporter’s question, “How does this compare to all
the other parties on South Beach this week? For one, this is more than a
party!” I exclaimed. “This is a celebration!”
“Oh really. How so?” he inquired.
Suddenly I felt myself climbing onto a somewhat lofty soapbox. “This is
a celebration of the lives of those courageous brothers and sisters we have
lost to AIDS, a celebration of life for those of us living with HIV/AIDS and a
celebration of the tremendous progress made in medicine and health care
that has given us that glimmer of hope we have so desperately been
seeking.”
“Very well put,” he said as he smiled. But I was not yet finished. A
heated swirl of pride, passion and dignity poured through my body as I
began to fully comprehend the magnitude and power of this phenomenon
known as the White Party. I felt compelled to share this with the reporter,
camera crew and whoever else would be listening.
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Noize
“Finally,” I continued, “this is a demonstration. Those who seek to
oppress gays, lesbians and people with AIDS should take note. When
challenged with adversity, we will unite with overwhelming intensity to
battle discrimination and aid those in need. Tonight is a demonstration that
we are eager to offer our time, money, talents and especially our love to
those who need it most. We are demonstrating that, when confronted with
the monster known as HIV, we did not turn and run with our heads dangling
low, nor did we surrender. We mobilized, stood firm and did whatever we
could in whatever way was individually possible. And for that I am
extremely grateful and proud for every person (gay or straight, man or
woman) who defied the norms of apathy and ignorance and made a
compelling difference in all our lives.”
There was a significant pause as the reporter fumbled for the right
response. I took a moment to investigate exactly where this illuminated
sermonette had come from. In other words, I’d surprised even myself.
A few days later, I was watching television and during an advertisement
for “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” I began to draw a parallel. Upon
seeing the Whos of Whoville singing and laughing as they prepared for
Christmas, the Grinch became jealous and resentful. He vowed to ruin their
holiday and so, on Christmas Eve went into town and stole all their presents
and decorations. He returned to his hideout overlooking Whoville to
eagerly watch as the residents sorrowfully responded to the demise of their
holiday. But it didn’t happen. Instead, he witnessed the townspeople
rejoicing in the streets and joining hands while singing songs. Their
celebration had not been defeated. The gifts and ornaments were not the
real reason for their cheer.
I realize that while it never hurts to experience a circuit party in a
dazzling space in an outrageously sexy outfit, these are not the real reasons
I attend these events. And just like the Whos of Whoville did not relinquish
their joy or love when faced with the actions of the Grinch, we too have not
abandoned our hope and dignity when confronted with our own monster.
Although the struggle is far from over, we should all take a moment to be
proud of our endeavors and to renew our love for each other.
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73
Noize
Circuit Sounds
by David Knapp & Jay Jimenez
Cher - “Believe” - Warner/Reprise
Singer, actress, comedienne.......diva! Few and far between are
the entertainers that have the talent to conquer multiple forms
of entertainment the way that Cher has. Even more rare is that
a supertalent remains a force to be reckoned with for decades,
spanning several generations. Cher’s
TV shows, and Academy Award-caliber
performances are etched in our
memories, and her songs find special
places in many of our hearts. Who can
argue that the Junior Vasquez remix of
“One By One” is not a huge classic?
With her new album, Cher has slipped
comfortably into the new 90’s niche
that was created by that song.
“Believe,” is a major dance album
chock full of great songs, arguably
most of them have potential to become
a single. Recruiting a number of dance
producers including Todd Terry and
Junior Vasquez, Cher gives us much to
“Believe” in, with few disappointments.
The title track and first single off
the album “Believe” has been
supported by many excellent U.K. and
U.S. remixes, most notably those by
Club 69’s Peter Rauhoffer who,
incidentally, is part of Miami’s ‘99
Official Winter Party DJ lineup. Some
already consider it the dance song of
the year, holding at number one on the
Billboard dance chart for five
consecutive weeks (beating the four
week hold of Madonna’s “Ray of
Light”). Yes, Cher succeeds in making
us “believe” there is “life after love!” Is
she writing about Sonny?
The second track, “Power,” is very
well produced and a little less dance,
reaching back and providing continuity
between the old haunting Cher
material (“Gypsies, Tramps, and
Thieves” or “Half Breed”) and the new.
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Cher plays the tragic victim of love so well.
“Runaway” has that classic slow, dramatic intro
made famous by Donna Summer and her
producers twenty years ago. The song kicks in in
a big way, very much in a Hypertrophy
(“Beautiful Day”, “Just Come Back To Me”)
format, the moody music perfectly matching
Cher’s lamented lyrics. We feel her pathos with
“All or Nothing”, singing “I’ve been standing in
the rain, calling out your name.....baby it’s all or
nothing now, don’t wanna run and I can’t walk
out.” Her dramatic whispers in the break and
the rolling, energetic drum and bass arrangement
work really well.
It is rumored that the next track, “Strong
Enough,” will be the next single. In fact, Peter
Rauhoffer has already been working on remixes
for the song. In its album form, Cher again
gives us the slow intro, followed by a great dancy
style ala “I Will Survive,” complete with the
same post-relationship strength and optimism
(“Strong enough to know you gotta go”) and an
almost too familiar string arrangement.
“Dov’e L’Amore” is an excellent break from
the dance format, a Spanish guitar, Gypsy
Kings-styled love song in which Cher even gives
us great bilingual vocals. The album then goes
back up to midtempo. “Taking Back My Heart”
is a funky, jazzy tune that invokes styles similar
to D-Train or Stephanie Mills in the Eighties.
Though there are three tracks left on the album,
they barely deserve much mention in comparison
to the previous tracks. Unfortunately, the raw,
unsophisticated production style that Todd Terry
usually delivers, which is present on two of these
songs, neither compliments Cher’s vocals nor the
lyrics she sings. The music of “We All Sleep
Alone” is so out of place with the meaning of the
song that one immediately wonders why this
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track, along with the two preceding it, made the
cut while, sadly Cher’s Junior Vasquez produced
rendition of “Love Is In The Air” didn’t make the
cut (Cher! Shame on you!). Perhaps we could
convince Miss Thing to release it as a b-side or
bonus cut just in time for Fire Island next
summer. Until then, we have this album to
enjoy!
David Knapp
“The White Party III CD”
Centaur Entertainment
reviewed by a special guest writer
Jay Jinenez, editor of Next Magazine, NYC
It’s often said that much is expected of a DJ, but
when you’re David Knapp, the stakes are
invariably higher. Fortunately, the newlytransplanted New Yorker delivers the goods in a
big way with his continuous club mix collection
entitled “The White Party III.” Known primarily
for his electrifying get up and go dance mix
selections, Knapp immediately sets the tone with
a lead off Brinsley Evans’ mix of that Judy Torres’
sensation “Back In Your Arms”. Followed up by
a potpourri of other powerful mixes (notably by
Junior Vasquez, Gomi’s Global Village, Victor
Calderone, and Johnny Vicious), “The White
Party III” is a hot assortment of truly enjoyable
tracks that drive you to the brink of sweaty
euphoria. (Haven’t you ever danced ‘til dawn
before?) Included in the upbeat 11 mix CD is
the fabulous Johnathon Peters’ Sound Factory
Vocal Anthem “What The Child Needs,” which
perfectly delineates Knapp’s extraordinary sense
of hot picks. Certainly, this exciting compilation
recognizes the enduring White Party DJ as a
force to be reckoned with.
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71
Noize
Panic Pump
by David Sloniegura
There’s a lot of work that goes into a circuit party. Everything
has to be just right: perfect hair, perfect clothes, and especially
perfect body. Having to cover so many areas in so little time usually something tends to give- and that’s usually your patience!
Everybody seems to want to cram a year’s worth of gym effort
into a weekend so they can be ‘bodybeautiful’ in front of the many other bodybeautiful clones. The chances of this
happening seem very minute (actually it
ain’t never gonna happen!)
There’s still hope for those who have
invested the time and effort turning their
bodies into fine-tuned machines worthy
only of the Greek Gods. You don’t have to
lose all your hard-earned results just
because you’re in a different city and going
to the gym is just too much of an effort.
You can add that last minute edge to your
beautifully sculpted body from within
your hotel room with just about no
equipment and still have enough time and
energy to shop for the right accessories!
The following is the first in a series
of exercise routines to be presented in
upcoming issues:
Execution: Start with one hand on each chair,
placed slightly further than shoulder width, and feet
on a bed/sofa/raised object of some kind. Keeping
your body perfectly straight, slowly lower your upper
body until your chest is lower than your hands, or
until you feel a stretch in your chest muscles. From
that position, slowly push yourself upwards until
your arms are almost fully extended (keeping your
arms slightly bent puts more stress on the chest and
less on the arms).
Repeat this movement 8-12 times, making sure
the point at which you cannot do any more using
strict form falls between the 8-12 range. If you feel
you can do more, then either slow down the
movement even more or have a partner push/sit on
your back for extra resistance.
Note: To make this exercise easier, instead of having
your feet and hand raised above the floor, you can
simply perform each exercise on the floor either with
legs straight or on bent knees.
- C H E S T (2) Incline Push Ups:
Equipment:
This movement replicates the Incline Bench
Press found in gyms without the need to drag a
bench with you wherever you go.
Nothing really except:
-a couple of chairs (optional)
-a partner (optional)
Exercises:
(1) Push Ups: (in between chairs):
Although the chairs are optional,
they’re ideal in order to get a good stretch
in the chest muscles, which leads to a
better muscle contraction (when the
exercise is performed in a slow, deliberate
matter, that is).
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Execution: Start with your hands placed slightly
further than shoulder width apart on the floor, and
feet raised upon a chair/bed/sofa. Slowly lower your
upper body (keeping your upper body straight, of
course) until your chin touches the floor. From this
position, slowly push yourself up until your arms are
almost fully extended. Hold this position for a
second before continuing.
Repeat this movement 8-12 times. For more of
a challenge, have a partner push/sit on your back for
more resistance.
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Note: To make this exercise easier, instead of having
your feet raised, you can place yourself in a pikedposition (ie: with your feet and hands on the floor,
and your body placed in an inverted-v position).
(3) Palm Presses:
This is an isometric exercise- meaning your
muscles are contracting but there’s no actual
movement involved.
Execution: With your arms directly in front of your
chest, place your palms together. Bring your hands
close to you and press your hands together as hard as
you can, holding from 6-10 seconds.
Repeat this exercise 2-3 times.
Note: You can vary this exercise by placing your
hands lower down or higher up; this tends to
stimulate more of the lower and higher fibers of the
chest muscles, respectively. Performing this exercise
with your arms straight out in front of you is another
variation. Also, by performing this exercise in
between exercise (1) or (2) without stopping, you can
intensify the effects of those exercises.
David Sloniegura is an experienced personal
trainer and has the training necessary to help you
attain your fitness goals. He writes for Orientations
magazine in Montreal, Canada, and for Gay
Chicago magazine in Chicago, Il. David is a
graduate of Concordia University with a B.Sc. In
Exercise Science and possesses a Fitness Instructor
certificate. He also has a weight training certificate
from the Weider Institute and is working towards a
B.Sc. in Dietetics from McGill University.
He can be reached at [email protected]
or at (514) 366-1206
Circuit
49
Noize
Hello Dolly
by Steve Kammon
If he were of the animal kingdom, he would have been a colt.
Lean but very sturdy, he carried himself with a power that was
belied only by the undercurrent of uncertainty in his glance at
me. As he looked at me again, sizing me up, he looked with
more than his physical eyes. This boy already knew how to
open his third eye and was looking into
my soul to see if I could be trusted. I
suddenly could see his potential. He was
naive, but not stupid.
He was
undisciplined, yet insightful. He seemed
to be gathering himself now. A last swig
of his beer and after one more nervous
glance around the room he sidled up next
to me and leaned close so that he
wouldn't have to talk very loudly.
"Hi. Um, my friend Eddy said you
might have some X?"
"Are you crazy?" I blurted, in a voice
loud enough to turn the nearest heads.
For a second I thought he was going to
bolt out the door. I grabbed his arm with
a firm grip to keep him from moving and
leaned back in to mutter in a much more
conspiratorial way, "You can't just be
going up to strange drag queens and
popping that kind of question!"
"Oh. I'm s-s-sorry. It's just that…"
"I don't know who this Eddy is, but
you're going to have to point him out. At
least he sent you to a reputable place. But
sweetie, I'm going to have to take you
under my wing, because you are obviously
in some bad need of training."
I put an arm around his shoulders
and started walking him toward a quieter
and more discreet area of the club, all the
while continuing my lecture. "I don't sell
ecstacy in the club, dear. It's bad form
and it's dangerous. And the stuff that
you're going to get from the slimeballs
that do sell in here is undoubtedly going
to be bad shit. It's mostly speed, and
they'll charge you an arm and a leg." I
could see he was already mesmerized by
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what I was saying. Undoubtedly, this was the first
time that anyone had ever talked to him about the
common sense rules of the underground world he
seemed intent on entering.
"I would be willing to give you a hit of X, and
such fine quality it is child, but the deal is that you
have to stay and listen to my little speech while
you're waiting for it to kick in. I want you to
understand what it is that you're doing to your
body, especially what you are doing to your ethereal
body, when you do this stuff. Oh and by the way,
my name is Dolly, Dolly Lama."
My soliloquy had gone on so long that he was
unsure of whether it was really his turn to talk.
"And you are?" I prompted him.
"Mark."
"Well, is it a deal Mark?"
"Oh. Um, yeah, sure."
I'd known all along that he'd be willing to
accept my proposal. His determination to connect
had overcome his fear of talking to a flamboyant
drag queen earlier, so now he was even willing to
stoop to being seen talking to one arm-in-arm if he
was going to achieve his goal. I sat us on a small
divan in the chill room and proceeded to locate one
hit of nearly pure MDMA in my faux leopard
clutch. I knew its purity, because like all the X that
I sold, I'd had it tested by my good buddy Raul.
He gladly offered his chemistry services in return for
my access to channels that could be worked to
provide the cleanest party supplies. As Mark
swallowed his tab, I went back into lecture mode,
but did a very abrupt change of both my tone and
subject matter.
"Have you ever heard of your ethereal body,
Mark?"
"No, I can't say that I have."
"Well it's not that spacey feeling you get when
you're anesthetized on K! No, it's a body that exists
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Noize
in the same physical space as this body," I said,
sliding a long, pink nail across the satiny skin of his
chest, drawing a circle around one nipple and
connecting it to the other. Pinching that lovely
nipple for emphasis, I continued, "But, it is not
flesh. It is made up of a weak electromagnetic field.
The two bodies - your physical and your ethereal can exist in the same space because they're in
different dimensions. The ethereal dimension
occupies the same space as the dimension you
perceive with your five senses, but it is made up only
of electromagnetic fields."
"Am I losing you honey?" I said patting his
chest. "Try and keep up with the class! These fields
are so weak that the instruments of science can just
barely detect them. Yet in the ethereal dimension,
these fields are not weak or ineffective. In that
dimension, these fields are the substance that makes
up the whole universe! Theoretical Physics is
actually beginning to discover the ethereal universe.
The electromagnetic field theories of Quantum
Mechanics teach us that the whole universe is really
made up of stuff that is both a particle and a wave.
What appears to be the solid matter in our universe
is really just a thicker collection of this universal
stuff. In reality, even the emptiness of space is made
up of this same wave/particle stuff."
Mark's eyes were beginning to glaze over.
"Stay with me baby. I know this can be a
rough ride, but choo' gonna have to hang on, 'cause
I ain't gettin' on it with you again."
"All of the physical bodies of this universe have
corresponding bodies in the ethereal universe," I
continued. "The two dimensions are intimately
connected, and yet, for most people, activity in one
dimension has only subtle effect on activity in the
other dimension. Your ethereal self is your higher
self. It understands why you are here dancing the
dance of life, what your goals were when you
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incarnated into this lifetime. By
becoming more connected to your higher
self, you can gain this knowledge."
"There are seven points of
connection between this burgeoning,
young body and its heavenly counterpart.
These points of connection are known as
the seven chakras. Each of these chakras
is associated with a particular kind of
physical or spiritual understanding. The
lower three chakras pertain more to your
sense of belonging here in the physical
plane, while the upper three chakras have
to do with the spiritual or ethereal realm.
The heart chakra is the one in the center
and provides the connection between the
physical and spiritual sides of yourself.
When all seven of these chakras are fully
opened and functional, you have achieved
enlightenment. The ecstacy that I just
gave you is operating on both of your
bodies - the physical and the ethereal.
More exactly, it is opening up the heart
chakra. Have you done ecstacy before?"
"Yeah, a few times."
"Then you remember how it made
you feel."
"Yeah, sure."
"Well, don't make me pull it out of
you, love! Describe it for me, in your
poetic best!"
"It made me feel like I was in love
with the whole world and, like, the whole
world was in love with me. I stopped
being so concerned with the worries I had
about school and my parents finding out
that I was queer, and I was just there in
the present moment, dancing and
dancing, feeling good to be alive."
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"Fabulous!
I couldn't have
described it better myself. These are the
feelings of having the heart chakra
opened and more fully connected to the
ethereal body. The heart chakra is all
about connecting to the universal love for
all of life and all of creation. This is a
pure love, darling. It is not about
attachment to some hot boy you met at
the club last week or even your love of
boys in general. This love simply IS.
Love is our natural state of being. It is
only when we allow ourselves to be
consumed in the day-to-day stress of the
physical plane that we lose sight of this
love. It is important that you understand
that ecstacy can help open the gates to
this love, because now that you are
consciously aware of what is happening to
you, you can focus yourself on these
effects and make them just that much
greater."
"I know what you say is true, but
how do you know all this? And why are
you telling me?"
"Those are hard questions, sweetie.
I'm not sure I know the answers," I said
in my very best Vivian Leigh voice and
then even gave him a furious eyelash
flutter. I'm not some kind of goddess don't let the wig and heels fool you - I'm
just another soul struggling along on the
path to enlightenment. Don't make the
mistake of thinking that I am superior to
you, for we are all equals on this physical
plane. We all have the same struggles and
the same lessons to be learned. I may
know a little bit more in some areas, but
surely there are lessons that you will teach
me as well. You and I haven't met by
chance - you are far wiser than you
know."
"We've talked enough for one day,
except I want to leave you with one final
caution. Don't over-use the kind of
substances to which so many of the boys
in this club have become addicted. These
substances are powerful tools that have
been placed on this earth to help us in
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our struggle to understand who we really are. But
they also can become serious traps that end up
ensnaring your spirit. You see, these drugs are really
shortcuts. They allow you to achieve things that
you could achieve without the drug through
techniques like meditation, breathing exercises or
yoga. When you use a drug to open a chakra, it's
like using a crow bar to pry it open. This is why
you sometimes feel so bad a few days later. After
being so forcefully opened, the chakra is kind of
swollen shut. If you use the crowbar to open the
chakra too often, you could permanently damage it.
Imagine what it would be like to live a life where it
was now more difficult to connect to those feelings
of universal love. You'd become a bitter and
depressed old queen. And that is your lesson for
today, my child. Go in peace and find your
connection to the love."
"When will I see you again? I mean, can I get
your phone number?" he asked.
I turned to answer him with a Farah hair flip
and almost shot him the Michelle Phiffer grin, but
decided the Susan Sarandon would be much more
appropriate. "It was fate that brought us together,
my dear. Let's trust fate to connect us again - I
know that our paths will cross many more times.
But if you really do want to find me, you might try
looking for me at the Center for Spiritual
Rejuvenation. I teach a yoga class there and would
love to have you as one of my students."
"Well, I keep a very tight schedule between
school and work. But I'm more than a little
intrigued. I think you will be seeing me soon…"
As I watched Mark disappear into the mass of
shirtless boys, I couldn't help but wonder if he'd
really show up for class. Would my lecture do
anything to turn Mark away from the path of selfish
abuse of drugs for their short term physical
pleasure? In time, he might be one who would rise
above the abuse of one of the Goddess' great gifts.
In the meantime, there was certainly no harm in his
reveling in the physical pleasures that this universe
has to offer. After all, it is why we incarnate into
the physical plane - to gather experience in our
souls. I clearly sensed that, like so many others of
his generation, Mark's path of learning in this
lifetime would have to travel through some places
of shadow to get to the real lessons for which he
had incarnated.
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GMHC Morning Party ‘83-’98
by Alan Brown
In a much anticipated decision, Gay Men’s Health Crisis
announced on December 31 that it would discontinue the
Morning Party, the legendary summertime beach party on Fire
Island. The event had been the focus of a public debate about
the questionable role of non-profit AIDS service agencies in
sponsoring benefit parties at which recreational drugs
are widely used and which might contribute to the
spread of AIDS. Criticism reached a high level in
the media last summer after a Long Island man
overdosed and died on the night before the party.
The Morning Party developed over the years
into one of the most exclusive parties of its sort, and
was the longest running AIDS benefit event in the
U.S. From 1983 to 1989 the party was held in
private homes and catered almost exclusively to
summertime residents of The Pines. Organizers
relocated the party to the expansive beach in 1990 to
accommodate larger crowds. With its glamorous
location, top notch DJs, and substantial cache within
the international enclave of gay partiers, attendance
swelled to 4,500 in a few years and remained at that
level through last year, even at $100 per ticket and
with virtually no outside promotion.
To many, though, the event was more than just
fun and games. The Morning Party was a
touchstone occasion that marked time on an
epidemic’s clock and reunited the souls of its victims
and survivors. Thousands of people invested a great
deal of emotional energy and other resources in
coming together around the event. Year after year
they paid outrageous sums to rent homes for the
week, spent hours making costumes, cooked and
cleaned in team rotations, entertained in grand style,
greeted friends and neighbors along the rickety
boardwalks, lingered in the enchanted forest, and
otherwise primped and preened endlessly. I dare say
that no other single event of its kind engendered
such a broad sense of ownership among its devotees.
As a party that had come to symbolize the
determination and defiance of a community gripped
by AIDS, and as a trademark of the brand of sad
celebration that served as a psychological lifeline for
many men, its cancellation marks a long fall from
grace. Over the past few years it became increasingly
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apparent that the event was in need of
conceptual repair and in danger of
collapsing under its own weight. Despite
what GMHC may have intended for the
event, it was adopted in the early 1990s
as a showcase for the gym culture and
anointed as the inner sanctum of a
burgeoning gay party scene.
Each year, the party seemed to get a
little messier, not necessarily as measured
by the number of overdoses, but in the
general tenor of the weekend. The
organic nature of the event and its roots
in the early days of the AIDS crisis
slipped out of focus several years ago.
Other parties sprang up around the
Morning Party itself, drawing attention
away from GMHC. The Sunday
afternoon beach party became a
checkmark on a long list of house parties
and late nights at the Pavilion stretching
from Friday night through to the
following Thursday.
By 1997, the Morning Party itself
had grown so large and so high-profile
that the gulf between GMHC’s wellenforced policy of zero tolerance and the
reality of widespread drug use at and
around
the
event
became
insurmountable. While the large
majority of people complied with
GMHC’s pleas for no drug use onpremises (it was virtually impossible not
to get the message), inevitably there were
those who were not interested in
discretion or in the future of the event.
Anyone who watched the Suffolk County
Police haul people off the dance floor,
one after the other and some in
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handcuffs, understands why the Morning
Party is now a memory. That GMHC
stood behind the event for so long in the
face of stinging criticism is a testament to
the agency’s resilience and clarity of
purpose.
The undertakers of sexual expression
in the age of AIDS, with their holy jar of
embalming fluid, knocked on the door to
the party world three years ago after their
eulogies on sex clubs and public toilets
grew tiresome. In his commentary “A
Deal with the Devil” (Advocate,
10/15/96) Gabriel Rotello launched the
misguided campaign to close down
benefit dance parties by comparing them
to “Jesse Jackson raising money at crack
parties.” Non-profit AIDS agencies, he
asserted, should not accept money from
events that glamorize drug use. If one
were to accept Rotello’s “dirty party
money” theory, then just where along the
line does the party money get cleansed of
subterfuge and drip dried of self
destruction? If Mrs. Offherrockerfeller,
with her drinking problem and all, gets
liquored up and blows a gasket at the
Cancer Institute Gala, should her $1
million bequest be returned? Rotello
would paint the Trojan Horse a prettier
shade of pink, never mind the partiers
inside. In fact, there is little difference
between accepting money from another
promoter’s event versus self-producing the
same event. A hundred dollars from a
twisted party queen buys as many hot
meals as $100 from Jerry Falwell, but with
fewer strings attached.
Ultimately, the Morning Party was
indicted, tried, and sentenced to deathby- rhetoric by Michelanglo Signorile,
Jonathan Capehart, and a Starr-like claque
of independent gay prosecutors who fed
on the event much like the tiger takes the
injured as its first prey. Easy catch; tasty
morsel. When it was clear that the future
of the party was in jeopardy, they went in
for the kill. The New York Times bought
into the soberer-than-thou agenda early
on. In a bizarre act of editorial sabotage
Circuit
in 1997, the Times published Signorile’s
commentary calling for the event’s cancellation—on
the day of the party. Saddled with this heavy yoke of
judgement, 4,500 revelers passed the day in rare
form. Don Quixote’s delusions of righting
incorrigible wrongs may have inspired a literary
masterpiece in 1615, but his modern day
descendants ought not to be writing for the Times.
Had it not been pummeled so by the media,
GMHC might well have succeeded in promulgating
a new sense of health and safety within a core group
of risk- prone men. In the weeks leading up to the
party last summer it seemed as if the message might
actually be getting through. Real progress, based on
the kind of critical introspection that reconciles the
past with the future and breaks old habits, seemed at
hand. I am imagining this, perhaps. Regardless, the
seeds of long-term change are more likely to sprout
in a delicate ecology of leadership and trust. Lost is
an important chance to grow.
So, now that the event is over, whose nose is
clean?
No one’s. The cancellation will do nothing to
address the health challenges associated with the party
sub-culture, which are very real. The landscape of
drug use has changed dramatically in the past five
years, especially with the rise in use of GHB and GBLbased products. In just several months, use of the
drug “Blue Nitro,” the chemical precursor to GHB,
has spread like wildfire among both straights and gays.
While the dangers of using and abusing increasingly
volatile substances are an obvious concern, the link
between recreational drug use and HIV transmission is
a far more potent threat that is certain to be developed
in the media over the coming months. A recent article
in the Atlanta Constitution reported an increase in
HIV infection rates among young gay men in Atlanta.
“Anecdotally, what we’re hearing is that very often
substance abuse has been a factor in their infection,”
said Mark King, director of education at AID Atlanta.
“The problem isn’t contaminated syringe needles, the
usual route of infection when illegal drugs are
involved. It’s unprotected sex that occurs when people
are high and their inhibitions are low, due to the
influence of psychedelic drugs like Ecstasy and crystal
methamphetamine.” In recent weeks, physicians in
New York and Los Angeles have also talked about
increases in the numbers of “party boys” who are
seroconverting.
It is highly unlikely that anyone will curtail
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their intake of recreational drugs or practice safer sex
because a party has been canceled, or because
beneficiaries turn their backs on party producers.
Media exposure has done much to sensationalize the
party sub-culture but little to develop an
understanding of the complex social and cultural
forces that drive it. Certainly, there has been little
behavior modification on the dance floor, only the
perpetuation of Signorile’s now vintage stereotype of
gay men as steroid goons tweaking on crystal meth.
In this hostile environment it is exceedingly difficult
to create the sort of constructive platform from
which effective prevention efforts can be launched.
In fact, substantial new efforts are underway and
numerous figures within the community are stepping
forward to address the health challenges.
It would be naive to think that the saboteurs of
the Morning Party, savoring their sacrificial lamb,
will rest for long. Undoubtedly, they are plotting
now which will be the next agency to browbeat, and
which will be the next most treasured gathering to
shut down. “It will become more difficult for other
groups — in Miami, in Chicago, in Los Angeles —
to continue to host these circuit parties now that
GMHC, the leading sponsor, has pulled away,
because these groups around the country are also
receiving this kind of pressure from within the gay
community,” quipped Signorile in the New York
Times. The Chicago Tribune, following its cue cards
to the letter, chimed in on January 23 with its own
editorial laying a public guilt trip on beneficiaries of
the upcoming Hearts Party, and singling out gay
dance parties as a vector for HIV transmission.
Circuit parties, said the Tribune, “amount to a pact
with the devil for the sake of money,” regurgitating
Rotello’s demonic metaphor like a spooky echo two
years later.
I’ve seen satan in go-go shorts, too, but the
cancellation of the Morning Party was not a clarion
call for other non-profit agencies to abandon their
dance parties. These events have intrinsic value, by
and large, regardless of whether they are organized
for charitable or commercial purposes. GMHC was
not obligated to fight a no-win public relations battle
on behalf of all the other non-profits who benefit
from dance parties. If other producers do not
envision themselves in a similar situation, however,
they might be well advised to figure out a role for
themselves in reducing the risks of drug abuse and
HIV transmission. Moreover, partiers who think
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29
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that personal use of recreational drugs has
no consequence to the larger society have
been served a wake up call.
The central question remains
unanswered. Was GMHC working at
cross purposes with its own mission by
promoting the Morning Party? Only the
agency can answer that question. But to
what standard of hypocrisy is it fair to
hold an agency whose job it is to deliver
prevention messages at the very pulse
point of risk? It was well within GMHC’s
mission and capabilities to address the
health challenges brought on by the
Morning Party, and to cultivate support
within the Fire Island community. If the
next generation of health service agencies
is not active with harm reduction efforts
in the existing social arenas of gay culture,
including circuit parties, then who will
be? No one can be more effective at
shepherding these events to a healthier
and safer place than the producers
themselves. And it is unrealistic to think
that anything will change if we continue
to relegate the prevention work to passive
bystanders handing out safe sex pamphlets
and condoms behind a table in the corner,
next to a bowl of fruit. This sadly
outdated notion of prevention is one of
the primary reasons why we have not had
greater success in containing the spread of
HIV/AIDS among younger gay men.
Ironically, GMHC did more than
any other agency to promote health and
safety at its party. As a result of this, it
would be truly unfortunate if the message
inferred from the cancellation is that we
cannot solve our own problems and ought
to just give up. To the contrary, it is
beneficial for health agencies, Pride
committees, and other groups to produce a
range of social, political and cultural
events—including parties which draw
thousands of hard-to-reach constituents.
We need more of these events, not fewer of
them, and we cannot overlook the
opportunity to use a range of social venues
for prevention work, community-building,
and as safe spaces for sexual expression.
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All this inevitably leaves the impression of
crying over spilled milk. But understanding how so
much symbolism got tangled up in a simple beach
party, and why its cancellation is a Pyrrhic victory
for the gay community, offers an important clue as
to the cultural impact of AIDS. To those who never
attended the event, it may seem paradoxical how
such a magnificent celebration grew out of a
community’s profound grief, anger, and sense of
loss. The roots of the Morning Party ran deep into a
community’s will to live in the face of death, and
grew out of a desire to rise to the challenges of the
AIDS crisis rather than stand by helplessly. To those
who identified with the event, it is heartbreaking to
see that the roots have withered.
The Morning Party might be gone, but the
energy that it created is a living force that cannot be
snuffed. GMHC, the Morning Party organizing
committee, and the legions of sponsors and
volunteers are to be commended for producing this
event with such aplomb for 16 years. The amount
of positive energy that it spun off in many directions
was staggering. In the larger scheme of things, this
energy has to go somewhere, and surely it will
surface in another form or place.
Is there some larger wisdom to be found in the
cancellation of the Morning Party? Possibly. At face
value, it looks like just another toy has been taken
away, and Lord knows there are other playgrounds.
For those who valued the Morning Party as more
than a sandbox of earthly pleasures, however, there
may be some gain in the loss, eventually. But for a
while I will be grieving the departure of yet another
irreplaceable old friend. There are photos to look
through—reminders of the camaraderie and sense of
belonging, the faces of loved ones who can no longer
dance, and the feeling of renewal that washed over
me standing along the Fire Island seashore each year
on that magical day.
The spirit of the Morning Party will live
forever in the hearts and minds of those who were
fortunate enough to participate. From the ashes of
such a great gift, only something truly fabulous can
rise.
Alan Brown writes about parties for several
magazines and publishes Electric Dreams, the email party newsletter. Register for this free service
at http://www.gaycelebration.com.
30
Noize
What Does ‘Circuit
Music’ Mean?
by DJ Rick Mitchell
Most anyone who reads Circuit Noize has heard the term
‘Circuit Music’ tossed about, but what exactly is ‘Circuit
Music’ and where does it fit into the rest of the ‘House,’
‘Trance,’ ‘Progressive,’ ‘Hip-Hop’ dance music and
technobabble-filled world?
The reason I’m bringing this up right now
is because we’re starting to see more and
more songs with ‘circuit’ remixes. If you
pick up the “Muscles” double-pak from
Club 69 you’ll find “Varano’s Circuit Party
Muscle Dub.” When you listen, however,
any feel of circuit leaves the room and you
feel more like Scotty is beaming you up to
the Starship Enterprise. Don’t get me
wrong, it’s a neat trippy cut and after relistening to it for this column I think I
might work part of it into my current
“Muscles” edit. However, I have yet to
hear a DJ pull it out as a feature during a
circuit event.
Others who use ‘circuit’ include
Roseabel’s remix for Erin Hamilton’s
“Dream Weaver” and Tony Moran’s mix of
“I’d Really Love To See You Tonight” from
Barry Manilow.
The first major
mainstream hit that I saw which was
blatantly labeled ‘circuit’ was last year’s
Mark Picchiotti’s vocal remix of “No One
Can Love You” by Hannah Jones. The
“Full On Circuit Mix” became the anthem
that earned the most club and radio play
coast to coast.
What all this signals is that there is
new marketing value to the record
companies in the word ‘circuit’ as a way to
get a select audience (read that as ‘you’) to
buy the song. That’s great, except for one
thing: What does ‘circuit’ mean?
I’ve put that question to some
friends, and here is a sampling of what
they said, along with a few of my own
observations thrown in. The question was
put to them as: “For a song to be labeled
‘circuit’ it must ...”
Circuit
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Have vocals
Be uplifting
Motivate and inspire
Make butch men throw their arms in the air on a
dance floor and lip-sync the lyrics
NOT be hard
NOT be pots and pans
NOT have words that get repeated 50 million
times
Have a positive message
Have a wailing black diva
Have a piano
Be part of a journey
Contain words you can actually understand
I’m not going to come down from the
mountain with a definition of ‘circuit.’ Actually,
the conclusion I’ve come to is that there really
cannot be a short, crisp way to sum up what
‘circuit’ is all about. When you look at the list of
musical genres above, ‘circuit’ is the only musical
label that describes a feeling you get from listening
to that type of music. House music has a definite
beat; Progressive music has a signature electronic
feel, but what others might consider true ‘house’ or
‘progressive’ can also easily be ‘circuit.’
There are plenty of circuit songs that have no
vocals, yet they inspire just the same if not more.
The only thing which everyone seems to agree on is
the “uplifting,” “positive,” and “motivational”
factors which could easily apply to songs performed
by the Reverend Jerry Fallwell’s Sunday church
choir. It’s a safe bet that anyone singing the “Lord’s
Prayer” on Sunday morning has nothing in
common with the circuit boys who might be down
the street belting out “Sing Hallelujah” on the
dance floor as a circuit party enters it’s final hours.
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Noize
Since this circuit world is our world, I
brought up the topic with hopes of getting feedback
from Circuit Noize readers before the word gets
slapped on too many remixes. It’s great the Club
69 labeled a mix as “Varano’s Circuit Party Muscle
Dub,” but it doesn’t do anyone any good if the
version doesn’t help the circuit DJ create the mood
and feeling that seems to be the only common
defining part of ‘circuit music.’
By the way, does the name “Varano” mean
anything to anyone in the circuit world? Below
you’ll find several ways you can let me know your
thoughts. I’ll make sure that those comments
which add new insight into this topic get published
or posted where everyone can read your point of
view.
To contact DJ Rick Mitchell, write:
POB 398526 / Miami Beach, FL 33239
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.RickMitchell.com
Phone: 305-534-1245
Circuit
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