Monthly Archives:

October 2018

Water Sports with Madonna

When I was matriculating at Brandeis University, there was a physical fitness requirement. You had to know how to swim (a lap or two in the pool and treading water for a few minutes) which made sense what with the dangers of a shallow water feature by the worship area on campus (read: sarcasm) and you had to do a much more rigorous workout consisting of running, push-ups and sit-ups. If you failed any of the above, you were required to take one or two semesters of physical fitness courses depending on what you were able to do. I passed the swimming portion easily, and did quite well on the other portion too, but missed opting out of the two semesters by one or two sit-ups or push-ups. (Ok, I wasn’t really trying because I thought a physical education class would be a nice break in my schedule.) I only had to take one semester, and since it came so easily to me I chose a swimming class (Water Aerobics, to be exact). It seemed a good choice on the hot day that we were sweltering inside the gymnasium; no one had the foresight to think about the fact that this water course would be taking place in November and December. I digress… back to the Water Aerobics.

It was filled with women. There was one other guy in it – some pale bespectacled young man with a ratty ponytail – which made for a gloriously empty locker room. Not that I would have minded some eye candy at that point in my life. That would have to be provided by our instructor, who (while mustaches were NOT my thing right then and there) had a decent, if lithe, build and a hairy chest. A throwback to those 70’s Olympic swimmers, minus the skimpy Speedo. Not quite my type, which was good, since I could focus on the task at hand: water aerobics!

Our instructor was decent, guiding us through various routines that utilized the water as resistance, enabling us to work out and tone muscle. The aerobics part came in the form of active repetition, and this was set to music. Like, 80’s music. The one track that we always ended with was ‘Higher Love’ by Steve Winwood, and if you’ve never done water aerobics to this song you have no idea how dumb and idiotic one human being can feel. Picture the lot of us doing jumping jacks in the shallow end of a pool, all in time to ‘Higher Love’ and you might have an inkling of how ridiculous the world is. Clearly something had to be done, so I took it upon myself to save this wretched exercise in embarrassment.

It was the fall of 1993, and Madonna was just embarking on her Girlie Show Tour, featuring songs from her latest album ‘Erotica’. It had a number of racing dance-pop tracks, easily on a BPM par with Steven Winwood. I quickly made a tape (since the instructor still used a cassette player) and slipped it under his door before class one day. Part of me thought he would never use it, but I had to try. The idea of jumping around in my swimsuit to Steve Winwood one more time was too unbearable.

For the next class the instructor said he wanted to thank whomever put the tape in his office, and then he popped it into the player. It started with ‘Fever‘ and we were off. Scissor-kicking through the water in time to ‘Deeper and Deeper‘ and forcing buoyant “weights” underwater along with ‘Words‘; if I thought it was funny doing water aerobics to Steve Winwood, doing it to Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ album was even more hilarious, especially when I thought of the fact that it was my fandom that started the whole thing. It took all my self-control not to break out in laughter, and at one point we were thankfully underwater so I could let out the biggest guffaw where no one could hear. It struck me as so comical, and I only wished my friend Ann could be there to see it. We would have drowned from laughing so much.

The only drawback is that to this very day a snippet of the ‘Erotica’ album will come on and I’ll be brought back to that pool at Brandeis. Thanks Madonna.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Me: “I can fight! I’m scrappy.”

Co-worker: “You threw your back out taking a picture of a flower.”

#TinyThreads

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Boo-tiful Bounty

The Boo-jolais Wine Celebration takes place in just two days (Friday, October 26, 2018) so if you haven’t ordered your tickets yet get right on it, and then get immediately to work on your costume. While this is typically a big fashion night for me, this year’s Monster costume theme takes some of that pressure off. (There are a lot of ‘monsters’ ripe for imitating in this world…)

They also just released a fabulous list of vendors who will be supplying the night with good things to eat, and some wonderful items on which to bid in the silent auction. As produced by the Alliance for Positive Health, this is always a night on which to see and be seen. Get ready for a monstrously good time…

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Optical Illusion

Does it move when you see it too?

While not an official #TinyThreads entry, this is mindless midday fodder. 

Enjoy. 

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Reconstituted Spirits

Fall is for soups. No other dish is so versatile and forgiving during times of cold weather. Simply making a pot of soup warms the soul – not only from the heat of the stove and ingredients, but from the methodical chopping and dicing and formulating that goes on when the soup is being made.

During a marathon of ‘Pati’s Mexican Table’ I caught a bit of her imploring us to not be afraid of the guajillo pepper – the dark red pack of dried vegetables that always looked so daunting to my lower-level cooking capability – and I decided to pick up a bunch and try it out.

There are several things I’ve picked up over years of watching the Food Network and CreateTV. One, the power of fresh herbs. This cannot be underestimated. For years I went without, or simply sprinkled some feeble decade-old bottle of desiccated blandness with little or no results. The simple addition of a few sprigs of flat-leaf parsley or some roughly-chopped cilantro or mint makes the final flourish to any dish a revelatory event. Two, the power of roasting things. Particularly nuts or seeds or spices. In this instance, the dried Guajillo pepper.

Pati throws a few on a heated skillet, lets them get a little darker in color, turns them, then adds them to some water. A pound of whole tomatoes and a single garlic clove on top of that and your soup base is pretty much done. Boil for ten to fifteen minutes, puree until smooth, then heat a little olive oil in a soup pot and pour in the puree. When it gets darker (about ten more minutes) add 6 cups of chicken stock. That’s it. The rest is all up to you. I added avocados, crème fraiche, queso fresco, cilantro and some tortilla chips. (I strongly advise that you fry your own tortillas – they’re so much better that way, and you can cut them into whatever size and shape you want.) She offers much better instructions and details on her enchanting website, along with additional options to stoke your hunger fire.

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The Decadence Before the Fall

“I shall go on shining as a brilliantly meaningless figure in a meaningless world.” â€• F. Scott Fitzgerald

Before any downfall, be it of a person or a civilization, there is a glorious heyday – a stretch of glory and fun and decadent celebration when the world feels at its fullest. These are the days when the only thing one worries about is where the next font of fun will be found – at the end of a meal, at the bottom of a bottle, or at the edge of the next project.

We doll ourselves up because what else is there to do? Idleness has started more wars than we realize. The human spirit no longer finds contentment in being still and silent. Maybe it never did.

Still, we aim to sparkle. We aim to astound. We aim to be more than the bodies and shells we inhabit.

Decked out in lace, bound by strands of silk, and corseted by grommeted brocade, we spin and twirl and tread across a land that will soon be barren.

We do not know this then.

We do not want to know.

We want only to want…

PVRTD

The New Project

November 2018

ALANILAGAN.com

 

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Erotica/Sex Recap

The anniversary of Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book came and went without notice this year, which is strange for these parts, so this post will do double-dog duty and serve as our usual weekly recap, in addition to a quick summation of all things erotic before that.

The year of 1992 found Madonna releasing one of her most controversial projects: a coffee-table art book of erotic photographs along with an accompanying album. The theme: sex. The result: publicity, book sales, and further notoriety. The ramifications: severe. The memories: amazing. All in all, a very heady time in a very heady career, and it came along at a tumultuous point in my life. It’s all on the Madonna Timelines for the ‘Erotica’ album selections.

Back to the present moment, immediate past. The week began with an insignificant #TinyThreads post, which you can follow back beginning here.

Who should fill the next big underwear bulge?

The exquisite, and slightly dirty, side of Sarah Jessica Parker: Stash

The Perverted Promo onslaught continues… 

My very own YouTube channel (hit that Subscribe button before you miss a single video!)

The edge of fall

Andy’s birthday!

The almost-annual Treasure Hunt for the Twins

The days grow dimmer

Perverted peeks: decadent defiance

Decadently defied again. 

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Some concepts are better left as concepts.

Case in point: avocado fries.

#TinyThreads

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Decadent Defiance 2

From ‘The Pink Triangle’ by Richard Plant: “Perhaps the Nazi Party’s most explicit statement on homosexuality is the one it published on May 14, 1928, in response to a query about its stance toward reform of Paragraph 175. It is worth quoting in full:

It is not necessary that you and I live, but it is necessary that the German people live. And it can only live if it can fight, for life means fighting. And it can only fight if it maintains its masculinity. It can only maintain its masculinity if it exercises discipline, especially in matters of love. Free love and deviance are undisciplined, therefore, we reject you, as we reject anything that hurts our nation.

Anyone who thinks of homosexual love is our enemy. We reject anything which emasculates our people and makes it a plaything for our enemies, for we know that life is a fight, and it is madness to think that men will ever embrace fraternally. Natural history teaches us the opposite. Might makes right. The strong will always win over the weak. Let us see to it that we once again become the strong! But this we can achieve only in one way – the German people must once again learn how to exercise discipline. We therefore reject any form of lewdness, especially homosexuality, because it robs us of our last chance to free our people from the bondage which now enslaves us.”

On this bed all the pleasures of the world in a single strand of silk!

All the tease, all the want, all the carnal desire running through the thinnest silken cord, wound round and round, tighter and tighter…

All your fantasies laid bare but for a bit of lace…

Rip it off.

Rip it all off.

Like a second skin, scant shell…

Be savage as you ravage

this body, this bed…

Seduction carries an inherent danger when an imbalance of power exists.

But you like the danger too.

The redness of the skin

The bruising of the body

The trickle of blood and its metallic taste on the tongue.

Like tasting winter…

“Among the homosexuals were exceptional people whose deviance could be called tragic; on the other hand [there were] also cheap hustlers and blackmailers. The prisoners with the pink triangle never lived long. They were exterminated by the SS quickly and systemically.” – Raimund Schnabel

 

PVRTD

November 2018

The Projects Page

www.ALANILAGAN.com

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Decadent Defiance 1

“Such degenerates have no right to existence in a well-regulated bourgeois society, and they have no gift for doing so. They endanger society to a high degree and they do so as long as they live. Medical science has found no way to cure these victims of an organic disturbance. They should be put away for life…” ~ Richard von Krafft-Ebing, ‘The Deviant Sexual Male Before the Court of Justice’ 

Black and white photographic decadence, captured from a bit in the boudoir, teases and hints at the upcoming ‘PVRTD’ project. Grainy images from a faded television, a glimpse of the past through a present lens, flickering lights, wavering shadows… they each play a part. Darkness descends with the arrival of night.

The strange inherent contradiction of lace – the way it is both cool and warm at once – and the morbid, mourning, passion-filled color of black – the color that contains all colors – and the juxtaposition of sex and death, implored or implied, bleeds into these pre-proceedings.

What the eye detects, what the web of lace conceals, what the fuck is so jarring about the luxury of a night? A rumble in the distance – clap of thunder, dropped bomb, rolling truck – static and fuzz and tension.

An invitation. A hesitancy. A furtive look.

Coquettish innocence armed with a poisoned prick.

Peek-a-boo.

Defiant and compliant, with promises of pleasure and perhaps the palpitation of pain in the face of what is to come. Who will make it through the night?

“These efforts are nothing but vulgar, perverted crimes and we will punish them by banishment or hanging…”

PVRTD

November 2018

The Projects Page

www.ALANILAGAN.com

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When the Day Dims…

There is far too much anger and sorrow on the internet these days. I count myself among those who may not always help the situation, particularly on my Twitter feed in which I do my best to counter all the awfulness and fact-skewing nonsense out there. This blog has largely steered clear of such stuff, unless something really egregious happens. (If certain bigots would stop fucking with marriage equality then everything would be fine.)

Thankfully there are spaces of warmth and safety, places we can visit without the constant barrage of bad news, hateful comments and miserable trolls. I’m still trying to make this one of those destinations. To that end, here’s a pretty sunset from upstate New York.

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Family Fun: A Treasure Hunt for the Twins

Our as-annual-as-we-can-muster-it Treasure Hunt for the twins was staged a couple of weeks ago. That’s when we have our niece and nephew over for a fall treasure hunt around the backyard followed by some hot chocolate with marshmallows. The turning of the seasonal clock finds us inside for the rest of the time, since the pool is too cold to swim and the air and lawn are too damp to play. This year we found an old spell that actually worked, as when we returned to where our Treasure Hunt began, the empty box over which we chanted our incantation was filled with a Halloween surprise. (I’ll let the twins tell that tale themselves.)

As is always the case, the hunt for Halloween treats took far less time than anyone expected (hoped) and soon we were left with sugar-spun kids looking to fill three hours with non-stop entertainment.

The Halloween trick-or-treat bags were a hit, as were the rubber-ball eyes that glowed when they bounced on the ground. These too, though, were forgotten as quickly as the Treasure Hunt and soon more distractions were needed.

As the fun Uncle, it was up to me to occupy the twins’ time with magic and make-believe, and no other place on earth is more amply stocked for just such a demand than our attic. Costumes, accessories, decorations and dreams were all to be found if one took the time to look carefully. The twins are still at an age where those things matter, where a few magical turns in the proper outfit can lead to corridors of enchantment and mysticism, where the land of imagination reigns supreme over the dull trappings of reality and adulthood.

Sometimes that magic finds its way downstairs and onto my own head. If the top hat fits…

{These are the sorts of photos that I will revisit whenever I need a laugh or a smile. I don’t even recall what was going on in them, but I know we were laughing hysterically at every turn. Thanks to Uncle Andy for indulging our demands for a photo shoot!}

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Andy’s Cake Day

If you happen to see Andy (or, even better, if you have his cel number) be sure to wish him a Happy Birthday today. There is enough sorrow and darkness in this world; we need more happy days like this, and we need to make the most of them when they’re at hand. He’s had a difficult few months health-wise, and this is also the time of the year when things get a little sadder with the closing of the pool, the end of the summer, and the anniversary of losing his beloved Mum.

Still, we forge ahead. I’ll do some fall cleaning and make him his dinner of choice. He’s indicated he wants to lay low and not go out, which sounds practically perfect. Quiet birthdays are woefully underrated. Andy has always preferred a non-scene like that. Preparing for winter brings out the meditative mode in us; it’s one of the first things that attracted me to him. On this birthday, I wish him a year of better health and more happiness. I love you, Drew.

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Fall’s Edge

Lightly rubbing a crayon over the sheet of construction paper, I concentrate on picking up only the faintest outline of the leaf’s veins. The stronger ones show through, revealing the shadowy image of the inner-workings of this remnant of oak. I don’t know which I like better – the pointy-edged leaves or the rounder ones. Each is beautiful in its own way. The rounded ones have better veining though, giving them the edge.

The school art tasks of fall were the respite I found when feeling homesick or riddled with social anxiety. They were silent activities for the most part, and carried out on solitude – the best kind of task for my frame of mind. The teacher would give instruction, then we’d separate into smaller groups and fend for ourselves with the materials at hand. I liked those moments almost as much as silent reading time (easily my favorite part of elementary school), not only for the creative artistic aspect of the work, but for the safety of being alone. Maybe it’s strange that a boy would feel safer when alone than with a school mate; such was my favored lot in childhood. How close self-possession is to self-obsession. As a child, I was no more obsessed with myself than any other kid was, but I suppose that’s the lot of youth too – thinking only of ourselves to ensure our survival.

Fall saw all the animals scrambling for similar self-preservation. The squirrels and chipmunks have been rounding up their winter stash for weeks. The geese have been making motions of heading south. There is a frantic excitement in the air now that the days have turned over to reveal the full chill of the season. The push and pull of time and tense lends friction to our motion. We have begun the hustle to winter.

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YouTube & Me

Little-known fact: I’ve had a YouTube channel for a few years now. 

I just never really did anything with it. 

A requisite whale watching video. (Yawn.)

A Madonna video from her Rebel Heart Tour stop in Boston (and one featuring her son David’s birthday).

A gratuitous Speedo swim.

A flowing summer caftan.

A pair of boisterous twins.

A cherry tree shedding its blossoms

A hint of a new project

For some reason, YouTube was, and largely remains, just a frivolous afterthought. As much as it trounces all other social media sites, dwarfing even FaceBook, Twitter and Instagram, I just never liked it much. That was my typical Thoreau-like aversion to present day trends and technology. My niece and nephew, however, shamed me into stepping up my YouTube game when they poked fun at the fact that I only had 40 subscribers. If you have to get schooled by a pair of eight-year-olds, you’re already lagging behind. So, let this be my game attempt at posting more videos and shedding another veil. Now please go and Subscribe to my channel to show my niece and nephew that I did make something out of my life! 

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