Kink in exile

Notes from a kinky nomad

Crunch time

It’s crunch time for KinkForAllSanFrancisco2, or should be at least.  I should be spending time at Noisebridge, sending reminder emails, hanging fliers, thinking of things to speak about, and the list goes on.  I’m doing none of these things.  Instead I am processing my own growing discomfort with activist rhetoric.  I’m fussing about the political coming home to roost, and shaking a fist at ideas of movement before people – is there any movement that doesn’t throw people under a bus sooner or later?

If you’re considering having a crisis of faith, I’d suggest not doing it within two week of an event you’re organizing, but the truth of the matter is that I don’t quite understand how I pulled together enough faith to have a crisis of faith in the first place.  I didn’t decide to throw together a KinkForAll [I also don’t like the term unorganize] to change the world or the status quo.  I decided to do it cause it seemed like a fun way to explore some ideas I’d been working through and get people I want to talk to each other in the same room.

The crisis of faith has nothing to do with KinkForAll, KinkForAll will happen, and it will rock because it is so flexible an event that it really would take a literal fire to mess with it.  (Ah the beauty of flexible systems…) The crisis of faith is entirely about the people in my life.  I woke up, at 3am, to the shock of realizing that two of my lovers where cheerfully road tripping down the pacific coast with another lover they share and I had to be up for work again in 4 hours.  I woke up to the realization that my lovers use words such as “radical” and mean it.  Really mean it.  Burn the status quo mean it.  I’m still trying to figure out why exactly I can’t just opt out of the status quo, and y’know, live my life.

I’m a die hard capitalist – born in  Soviet Russia and raised to love America.  I think socialism is a wonderful idea – in the Nordic nations; small countries with homogenous populations and a history of relative equality of means – just don’t try it at home.  Taken on the whole my politics fit nicely, though not intentionally, in the map of liberal middle class Judaism: provide for the poor, repair the world, demand justice.  But nothing about my politics, lived or idealized, can be described as radical.  In that I have spent the time to find the balance I want in my life, am comfortable with the truths I hold, and strive to be open to new ideas, this is a good thing.  In contrast to the people who currently dwell in my life, sometimes–today at 3am for example–it’s lonely.

It’s lonely in that “do we even have common language way.”  Lonely like “will you ever understand what loving my job means to me?”  Lonely like I impact multimillion dollar decisions in corporate America, and that’s important to me, but “money is a lie.”  And yeah, it’s lonely in ways I don’t want to name too.  Lonely like the fear of being told no one should have to work by someone benefiting from your work – and not being allowed to refute that cause, ya’know, class privilege.  Lonely like Christian guilt – we can’t have nice things because…Jesus didn’t have nice things…?  Or nice things are wrong somehow–not kinky sex wrong, not your cock in my mouth wrong, no, the other kind of wrong…injustice wrong.  Can only be made right through martyrdom wrong.  I’ll take my Jewish mother jokes over martyrdom any day of the week.

So instead of hanging fliers, writing emails, and planning talks, I went out for a drink with a friend.  We debated social media privacy and data usage.  We compared notes on articles we’d read about the ways social media reinforces structural inequality.  We talked about the Lesbian Sex Mafia, and the Lesbian Avengers, and the bimodal economy – how the lesbian community grew around transgender inclusion and why class is so closely tied to iconic imagery of sexual orientation.  Did it ever occur to you that traditional images of lesbians are working class while traditional images of gay men are upper class?  And over a pisco sour overlooking the pier I let my guard down and savored being a techno-yuppie.

My lovers push me out of my comfort zone and for this I am grateful.  I’m grateful too for the opportunity to refuel, but most of all, I am grateful having space to speak my truth – thank you.

Written by kinkinexile

June 5, 2012 at 12:03 am

One Response

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  1. “opt out of the status quo” That’s exactly the sort of slogan I could get behind.


    June 8, 2012 at 11:36 pm

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