Sunday Diva/Three From The Hip: Kathleen Madigan

Sunday Diva / Three From The Hip:

 Kathleen Madigan

In my own personal big gay church, there is a wing dedicated to the Ladies Of Comedy. Theses are the gals who made us laugh and, on occasion, brought a tear to our eyes. They are visionaries, capturing aspects of the human condition while holding up a mirror to the world. Their characters, style, and phrases have helped form our daily vernacular in ways we are not even always aware of - but that is the power of comedy and the magic these ladies all possess. Breaking ground while breaking all the rules?

One such comic seer?

Kathleen Madigan

Whether poking fun at her Irish Catholic background, her parents and siblings or some aspect of modern culture, Madigan is the best storyteller you'd ever want to buy a drink. 

And you will. You will want to buy this lady a drink. 

She's casually funny... with a gift with a yarn that's been honed on the road, 250 days a year, for over 30 years. 

She's been on The Tonight Show an amazing 25 times! Ten of those when it was Carson.

She'll be the first to tell you - she'll do a favor for a friend - like appear on Seinfeld's Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee - but otherwise? All she wants to do is tell a joke. 

It's that simplicity in aim, that focus which has made her one of the best comics around. 

She doesn't cotton much when it comes to awards, but she's won them: the American Comedy Award for Best Female Comedian and the Phyllis Diller Award in the same category.

In her spare time she goes on tour for the USO to Iraq and Afghanistan, helping out her best pal, Lewis Black over at Comedy Central and recording her popular podcast: Madigan's Pubcast.

She toys with the idea of retirement... but for our funny bone's sake, let's hope she never does.
 
The gospel according to her?

Well, here are three from the hip, dropping from her lips. 

The Topic? Comedy

"You have to be comfortable with organized chaos. I do really well in organized chaos because it keeps my attention. It’s activity-based versus with my one sister, safety would be her number one thing. She wants to be organized, safe, nothing unpredictable. That’s her idea of happiness. Mine is I like it to be very unpredictable. I’d like it to be chaotic, but I want to know I have control over it. I’ve always been like this, even when I was a kid. I think my parents would say that too. Like, my one sister, every night before school, she had her uniform set out, her things set out, everything was perfectly organized, neat. My side of the room looked like it had been looted! So I just think I’m meant for the road."

"I got into this line of work so I didn’t have to work during the day time"

"Given a chance, I wouldn't work except every once in awhile and then give the money (assuming I had a huge stash) to poor people."

"There's some comics who say there's never anything off limits, and I guess that's true, but I try to shy away from stuff that I know was painful for a lot of people. Like they don't need to be reminded of that at a comedy show. You can't go a comedy show to escape."

"...performing is not an escape for me, and also nothing in my real life affects my performances. Work is work. I don't however, work if something in my personal life is more important or needs more of my attention which probably is why things don't affect my work. I wait until I'm ready and try not to push the issue."

"People entertain me more than I entertain them."

"I don't really write jokes. I wait for stuff to happen in life and then I tell it on stage."

"I never have goals or dreams. My sister says it's pathetic and lazy, but I had a goal: to tell jokes to pay the bills and not have to live in a trailer. So, I think I'm living my fantasy. I don't have another."

"I reached my goal, I'm doing my goal. I don't understand why I'm supposed to have another goal. I don't know who started that crap. Not that there's anything wrong with having a sitcom or any of that, I'm just a bigger fan of the people that go [onstage], just because I feel that I relate to that more. There's nothing more fun than telling jokes in front of live people to me."

"I didn’t start doing open mics to become an actor on a sitcom or on a television commercial. Those things never crossed my mind. For a few of us, working and telling jokes was our main goal. I didn’t have any more goals. Can’t you even have a goal, reach it and enjoy it? Our society is driven by Type-A lunatics who say you have to set more goals. Well maybe they do, but we all don’t. Have a seat, grab a drink and enjoy the fact that you made it to the goal. Maybe that’s the Irish in me, talking tough."

"I just want to tell jokes. There’s not many of us where that’s all we want to do."

Stand Up - Kathleen Madigan

Things That Scare Adults - Kathleen Madigan

An American Idiot In Paris / This Is Not Happening

Kathleen Madigan

And one last parting shot...

"As long as there’s a mic and the spotlight works, I’m good to go. I’ve reached that point in my career, I don’t have to fight anymore. I’m happy where I am."

Weekend Onesie: All Gods Are False

Weekend Onesie: 

All Gods Are False

I woke with that thought one morning; 'All gods are false.' And thought, 'well, this is going to prove to be an interesting day.' 

However, other than sending me running to my laptop to write it down, because the above image of Donald Duck yawning as he walks past the 'God Of Gab' immediately sprang to mind, it really didn't affect my day. 

Thus is the concept of 'god' in my life... most days. Today, though... I had another thought.

The notion that "Thou shalt have no other gods before ye," strikes me as rather silly.

 

Alluding that there is such a thing as a 'false' god, tends to lend credence to the idea that they're all made from the same vat of fat. I've always marveled at people's tenacity when it comes to their belief that, when choosing a religion, they 'got it right.'

How do they know?

Faith, they will reply.

Faith is nothing more than blind belief. Just because you can believe in something doesn't mean you should. I have a number of emotional scars that prove that to be the case. No, I don't need a 'god' to relieve me of my suffering. 

That's what gin is for.

I have a lot of faith in gin. I have faith in a few other things, too.

I have faith that common sense will one day return to Washington D.C. I have faith that people like Putin and the orange ogre will one day have their comeuppance. I have faith that The Supreme Court of The United States will one day snap to and realize the error of their ways. But, and call me a doubting Thomas (no, not that Thomas) if you must, but I have reason to believe none of that will be happening any time soon, or in my lifetime, for that matter. 

So much for faith.

And for those believers who think we atheists are haters, well, you could not be more wrong. We don't hate you for your beliefs. We just think you're Silly Billies to believe what you believe.

See, I believe that a large percentage of life is going to suck, whether I give ten percent of my money to a religious organization or not. So, erring on the side of common sense, I'd rather keep my money. 

To buy more gin.

And it's not just the money, honey. It's the time and energy. If I need a sense of community? I'll join a book club. If they pick a book I don't particularly care for? I just won't go that month.

Sometimes I wonder if atheists are more involved with the dissection of religious dogma than the average church goer. Oh, I know those bible groups meet up all the time, but I view those gatherings as a sort of book club where everyone sits around, mentally masturbating and salivating as they try to one-up each other on just how 'boned' up they are when it comes to that particular book.  

If I belong to a book club, I want it to be one where we have a different book, on a different topic, every month. No need getting obsessed with words someone - very human - wrote. Particularly if that writer is a straight man with a bug up his ass. 

Straight men tend to think with their 'little brain' (some littler than others.)

I'm sure you've all heard about 'small town minds.' Yeah, well, where I grew up, the smaller the mind, the smaller the penis. Oh, don't take my word for it. You can do your own research. Just move to someplace like Iowa Falls for a year. Spend enough time on your knees and... you'll see what I mean. 

I enjoy doing my own research. 

And I did. For years and years, after having spent my first eighteen years as a Catholic, I began to look around and check out some of these other 'gods.' It took years. I was a Methodist, a pagan, an old age spiritualist, a new age spiritualist, a prosperity theologist. I researched the Torah and the Qur'an. I went to therapists. I read up on all the philosophers. Then I came back to Catholicism, because I thought maybe 'god' could save my Dad's Alzheimer-ravaged mind. 

And I tried for three years. Seemed like thirty. Felt like forty.   

Yes, through it all, I listened a lot and did my own homework. 

And watched others. Yes...

Observation is a great teacher.

See, that's the thing about most atheists. We're a pretty self-reliant bunch. Oh, sure, we grapple with the same emotional turmoil the average religious sort deals with, but we deal with it using common sense and well-being practices, such as exercise, volunteering, reading...  and little helpers like THC and gin martinis. 

All in moderation. We wouldn't want to get fanatical. 

You've all taught us what that can lead to.

I have to send a shout out to my friend, Rick, over at SickoRicko'sCrap. 

Once a week, he preaches the good word, posting all sorts of memes exploring the fallibility of religions and poking holes in the fabric of religious life.  

I appreciate it. 

Helps keep me on the 'right' path.

We wouldn't want any of that magical thinking sneaking its way back in.

And so, to close today's sermon, we recall the words of our blessed sister, the late Anne Marie In Philly from the Church of the Blogosphere (or was it the Church of the Poisoned Mind?), as we all say...

Gay-men!

Atheists Don't Have No Songs - Steve Martin 

& The Steep Canyon Rangers

A Return to Form...

Hi…

Remember me?

Well, I don’t. Much.

But, seeing as how we are all stuck in the middle of something we can’t get out of, I thought, what the hell? Why not start writing this blog again? But then I started to actually think about what this blog has been about: its purpose, its focus… It seems to have gone through a few phases.

In the beginning it was just a place to experiment. I even posted the paper I wrote so I could graduate Magna Cum Laude Dah… or whatever that was, back when I finally finished my business degree.

And my very first post? well, that incident yielded repercussions that are still being felt to this day.

But I digress…

Then it was a hardcore sex blog (my personal favorite kind of blog); sort of a personal journey, but then I also used it as a means of exploring various aspects of sex that had long intrigued me. There was a treasure trove of erotic images that I collected to be shared. There were lots of personal stories about sexual encounters and actual stats that I used to keep track of to share related to those trysts. That all made sense at the time because I was super sexually active during that period.

Think of a candle that is burning brightest just before it snuffs itself out. That’s what it felt like.

Then there was an incident that changed everything, that I could not bring myself to write about. It left me devastated and truly frightened. That led to a whole bunch of very poor decisions on my part, making everything even worse. During that time period this blog became about music, because I love music (I am still writing songs to this day) and it turned out to be a safe place to land.

And then, everything blew up and I simply couldn’t share any more of myself.

In order to salvage the basics - my job, my home, my primary relationships, anything deemed non-essential had to be jettisoned.

Through it all, even the good old sexy days, behind the scenes there were so many tortured dialogues going on:

• Was I sexually liberated or just a slut?  
• Should I be ashamed of being a slut?
• When does obsession become self-harm?  
• Am I having any fun?  
• Am I acting out?  
• How many times can you run to your doctor for an STI test before you come off like a nut job?
• Is it okay to collect STI’s? Kind of like sexual merit badges?
• When am I going to be too old to behave the way I am?  
• At what age will I be deemed a troll?  
• Am I a troll?  
• Is my behavior putting others at risk or harming others?  
• How much energy am I expending keeping this whole thing afloat?  
• Is there something better I could be doing with my time?

In the course of this last phase, my Dad passed away.  I was his secondary caregiver and so much of my time and energy went into his final years.

I was exhausted.

I couldn’t hit the reboot button. I just unplugged the machine.

Anyway… I came out on the other side about a year ago.  So much has changed, but I think everyone else that truly matters in my life is okay with who I am. And that mattered for a long time because it took me awhile to find my feet.  

My current cast is quite small.  My Mother, My Someday-to-be-ex-husband/business partner, My boyfriend of 6 years (we have an open relationship) and, currently… that is it. I am still close to my two youngest sisters and a brother-in-law, though I don’t see much of them.

I have lost all my friends. High school, college, theatre, college, L.A/Honolulu, work, theatre again, college again, work again… all gone. I am okay with that. I’d rather be alone.  

Oh - I traveled! Last year I went to Cancun. FUN! And last July I spent two weeks in Europe - Amsterdam, Berlin, Vienna and Rome. I love travelling. So plan on doing more of that. I am also finally in a position, financially, to do it.

I think a lot about retiring, although that is a good ten years down the road. When the time comes, I will be fine.

I am a vegetarian. I was a pescatarian for years. But a year and half ago, that changed.

Very much an atheist these days. For the sake of my parents, when my Dad began to fail and I moved them into a house across the street from me, I made a go of trying to be Catholic, again. I tried for three years, seemed like thirty. Could you ask as much of any other man?

But, yeah, given the state of the world… and, let’s be honest, it has always been a shit hole, I simply can’t believe there is a higher power up there unless he fucks with us for shits and giggles. And then there is the behavior of his followers: his priests, pastors, politicians, rabid Trumpsters, etc. Deplorable, indeed.  

I mean, let them all be who they want to be. I just wish they would return the courtesy. Right?

You want to believe in a magic unicorn that died so you can use him as a wish machine, live in a house you will never own and drive a big fuel burning monster truck… hey… have at it. But I won’t march in your parade, so don’t piss all over mine. (Oh, wait… that sounds kind of fun.)

I play piano and have a set list of 47 memorized songs. I am not a good piano player, maybe adequate? At best? Nor am I a consistent singer… but, when my sinuses allow it… I have my moments.  

I continue to write songs on occasion. But stopped writing anything else after my flashdrives with all my writings were crushed under car wheels. That felt like karma, at the time. Heavy, heavy karma.

It still does.

So, my second novel never got completed. It sort of orphaned the first one. And, of course, all my sex stats and blog musings were gone… poof.

That sort of standstill… has prevented me from bothering to write. The way I got into writing was this blog and going back to college… it gave me a certain level of competence and confidence to write and finish that first novel. So, I was thinking maybe if I started writing this blog again…

But… baby steps. Baby steps.

And I never stopped being sexually active. It’s tempered quite a bit. The need/desire is no longer daily. I no longer think more is better. And I certainly have expanded my horizons kink-wise, embracing my acquired tastes and seeking out like-minded individuals. Thank you Grndr and Scruff and BBRTS!

I continue to work out… it varies - 4-6 days a week. I go through phases of zumba/step/strength/weights/jogging… whatever. I want to remain sexually active and attractive (to someone) for as long as I can. But I don’t do it for them. I do it for me. Best sex happens when you feel really good about yourself.

And thank you, science! PREP is the best thing to happen to our little gay nation. That and the whole U=U movement. I know, I know… we are just feeding the dastardly pharmaceutical companies, but, if you are blessed enough to have insurance (THANKS, OBAMA!), I can’t see a reason not to imbibe. Now, if we could just come up with a pill that also prevented the whole cache of STI’s, well, I know of one little horny homo who would sleep a lot better and be a lot less anxious.

Anyhoo…

Other than check this for glaring typos, I am just gonna let this little bird fly. I don’t feel like self-censoring myself these days. I have really come to embrace what it means to be candid. So, I will share as much as I am legally able.

And if no one else cares anymore, or can be bothered to read this… that’s okay.

I don’t do this for you.

I do it for me. 

Nietzsche Was Right

Friedrich Nietzsche was right.

Growing up, going to church was simply something one did, like breathing and pooping.  You didn’t think to question it; you just did it because everyone you knew did.  The ‘why’ of it all was never questioned.

Of course, when I became an adolescent, I did begin to question.  Those mandatory Wednesday night catechism classes became opportunities to torture all those poor believers who volunteered to teach.  It was at that time that I began to fall in love with and perfect playing the devil’s advocate. As inarticulate as I was, debate became my ‘thing’.  That ‘deer in the headlights’ look on the teachers’ faces fueled my love of pointed banter.

And then, once away at college, church became an afterthought.  Theatre became my new religion.  I didn’t have time for anything else. 

After that, a variety of religions, religious expressions, thoughts of mind, and philosophies became my norm.  I tried them on like hats.  I was impressionable, to say the least.  My naiveté would lead me down one dead end after another.  The journey was as entertaining as it was disheartening.

Five years ago I returned to Catholicism and began to attend church regularly, singing in the choir and serving as cantor.  I did so, out of a need to please my mother.  She and my father had recently moved into my neighborhood at my insistence.  My father, as you may know, has Alzheimer’s, and as his illness has progressed it had become more difficult for my mother to manage.  The house across the street from me came up for sale. My business partners and I purchased it, renovated it, and moved them in.  

In order for my mother to acclimate, I took her around to various churches.  She chose one and it became part of my routine to accompany her.  It went well for the first three years.  I got swept up in the music and the sense of community the church provided. 

Unfortunately, I also became all too aware of the church’s attempts to prevent gay marriage from coming to Minnesota, as well as the on-going sexual scandals involving children, adolescents, and young adults.  Oddly troubling, too, was my discovery that a good percentage of the active clergy are gay – troubling, only in the sense that these men must live their lives in a way that supports the very thing that condemns them for who they are. 

Since returning to the fold, I’ve listened to countless sermons that plead for accepting others as they are, sermons delivered in a kind of code, skirting around the political reality that is the Catholic Church.  But until the church as a whole openly embraces gay people, I’m afraid those words, while truly meant by the individuals speaking, will continue to ring rather hollow and false.

Two years ago, during the Easter season, I began to wrestle with my conflicting thoughts and feelings.  I quit the choir and cantoring that Easter morning, though I continued to attend mass regularly until about three months ago.  By that time I couldn’t rationalize attending anymore.  Not that I didn’t feel welcome, I always did.  No, it was because I could not reconcile the life I was being told to lead and the world I live in.  When I looked at the world around me and the evil things men and women do in the name of God, the whole concept of God became something that made no sense. 

Yes, people like Michele Bachmann and Archbishop Nienstedt had robbed me of my ability to believe.  Their irrational world views and the fact that the world had given them and their ilk a means of spreading their fears, hatred, and harmful rhetoric defied common decency and common sense.  The fact that we live in a world where people actively reiterate garbage theology and support political platforms that work against their own self-interest appalls and amazes me - to say nothing of the everyday violence that is allowed to go unchecked; violence committed through some delusional sense of superiority, violence committed against one another, animals, and our planet - to say nothing of disease, illness, deformity, cruelty, homicide, genocide, hypocrisy, segregation, ignorance and greed.

And so, if one is to remain logical and place events and people within some type of context, one can come to but one conclusion: there is no God.

God is a construct upon which we place our hopes and desires.  God is a wishing well.  God is a comfort for mind and body.  God is a means of controlling ourselves and others.

But we made him up. 

This planet is really populated with nothing more than a bunch of animals trying to gain advantage over one another by any means possible.

It has left me heartsick.

And, of course, when my mother asks why I’m not going to church anymore, I can’t tell her any of that.   Her concept of God is all she has.  It’s the pillar of her whole life.  It would be cruel on my part to start ripping away at the fabric that is her life.

So, when she asks… I say nothing.

I’ll start believing in God when the likes of Michele Bachmann and Archbishop Nienstedt do the same.

In Honor of Holy Week...

I’m singing a lot this week… and man, am I tired. The rehearsals have been kind of nerve wracking and I’m also struggling with how well I know much of the music; I don’t like sight reading - I like lots of rehearsal. I also continue to struggle with my current involvement with the church – particularly the Catholic Church; a church that has done so many bad things throughout its existence that I have a hard time justifying my involvement. But it’s not about me. So, rather than focus on the church as a whole, I look at it as an opportunity for community building, and an opportunity to sing with others.

So when this article (from Rage Monthly – please seek it out) just happened to land in my in-basket this week, I decided it was a sign, and in honor of Holy Week, I thought I’d share it with you. I read it and was quite moved by it; surprising, given its subject and source. I remember PTL. I feared PTL. At the time, I remember hearing rumors that Tammy Faye was really a sweet woman and that she was actually very supportive of gay people, but I thought that had to be some mad queen’s fantasy. Of course, now I know differently. The woman really was amazing, a genuine light in the darkness, and I, along with a large portion of the gay community, have come to embrace her memory. So, to learn that Jay Bakker (pictured), her son, is carrying on her work? Surprising. Amazing. And fascinating.

What he has to say is very eye-opening and echoes a lot of what I feel about the bible, spirituality, organized religion, religious leaders, and the world in general. Enjoy.

Falling To Grace With Jay Bakker
by Randy Hope
Rage Monthly
Wednesday Apr 20, 2011

Gay-affirming Pastor Jay Bakker is use to being an outsider. Often referred to as the "Prodigal Son of Jim and Tammy Faye," Bakker witnessed his family’s Praise the Lord (PTL) Ministries come crashing down amidst scandal in the 1980s. This led to a struggle with his own faith and spirituality, which in the end lead him to found Revolution Church, where he is the co-pastor of a gay-affirming congregation in Brooklyn, New York. Author of the new book Fall to Grace: A Revolution of God, Self, and Society, the forward-thinking self-identified "Outlaw Preacher" recently chatted with The Rage Monthly about the transformative power of grace, and his belief that Christian love and compassion should be extended to all people.

While you were raised within the PTL Ministry and the Christian church, you had a unique opportunity to be connected with LGBT people early on didn’t you?

Oh yeah! Most definitely, I’ve always said that the church was the first organization to start "don’t ask, don’t tell." Now that I look back, I realize that I was surrounded by gay people my whole life. I mean I didn’t actually know what it was, but in hindsight I’m like, "Ah-ha, now I know what that was." Actually, in high school one of my best friends was gay. Even when I’ve gone to other churches to pastor, members of the staff have come up to me and whispered in my ear, "I’m glad you’re here." It’s really a shame because I really feel that there is a "don’t ask, don’t tell policy" within the church, which is what creates the extreme prejudice and exclusion.

You’ve also said the church uses what you refer to as "clobber verses." What is a clobber verse?

They are basically the seven or eight bible verses that people have latched onto, to try and prove their argument against homosexuality. Soul Force (at soulforce.org) has a great reference to those verses and the counter points, which something I wish I had early on because I was still researching them in Greek and Hebrew and searching through historic backgrounds to find what Soul Force puts at everyone’s fingertips-the answers to those "clobber verses" in the Bible.

You obviously have different relationship with the Bible than mainstream Christian pastors. What are your thoughts on the "Holy Book?"

The Bible is such a strange book. Even with just sexuality period, simple basic human sexuality, it’s probably not the best place to get advice from. You have polygamy, and women are seen as property for land trade, things such as that made me realize that maybe I needed to start to read the Bible in a different way.

How do you suggest it be read?

Well, its context would be a good place to start. (Chuckling) It wasn’t one book written 2,000 years ago- it wasn’t even a book at all, Jesus had never even seen a book. It was collection of scrolls that got passed around in the church and basically some folks in the Catholic church decided they were going to close the canon and deem what books we’d have and what books we wouldn’t have. There were a lot of them left out and we basically just have what is in the New Testament. So realizing that the Bible should be read in such context is eye opening. People also need to realize that some of the books attributed to Paul weren’t actually written by him. So there are definitely contradictions in the Bible.

So do you see yourself as the editor who has to correct such conflicts?

I’m the messenger who says that it is okay to live with conflict, it’s okay to live with two different stories, and it is okay to realize the Bible is not perfect. Because seeing the conflict in context keeps the Bible from being God, that keeps it from being the final word. It allows for Christ-it allows for hope and it allows for love to be the final word. It was made up of different books when different cultures existed just like we have different cultures today. So, I think that we can read the Bible in that context and measure every verse against the question, "Are you loving your neighbors as you’d love yourself or treating others the way you’d like to be treated?" When Christians supported slavery, it was ultimately that verse that helped to end the practice. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." That’s what Jesus said was the ultimate law.

As a pastor, what role do you see the Bible playing in your ministry?


It’s not an answer book, it’s a book of questions and of trying to figure things out and solve them. It’s more of a math book that teaches us some lessons but you have to basically work the problems out for yourself. Unfortunately we have a big problem on our hands, because it is viewed by most as the answer book on homosexuality. That’s because someone (somewhere between 1948 to 1958) arbitrarily decided to add the word "homosexual" into the Bible replacing such words as "male prostitute" or the likes.

So do you think it’s forever changed?

Oh yeah! You can look up the word homosexuality in the Bible today and so people think it’s always been there. Yet, it has only been there a little more than 50 years. People don’t understand that English is a limited language and the Bible wasn’t written in English. It has changed for me, not in a negative way either.

If anything, it’s given me a greater faith, it allowed me to love beyond the Bible-experience God outside the limitations of two pieces of leather. You realize that these people who you once may have looked upon as sinners, are actually seeking God. And they were people just like you and me trying to find him.

With that said, you have obviously had a special relationship with grace in your life? Elaborate on your relationship, and what you truly believe grace is.

I always felt that there was something wrong with me and that I would never live up to the church’s expectations or God’s expectations. So eventually, I just stopped doing any type of that stuff. I had a friend with whom I was discussing it and I told him, "I’m a horrible person, I’m miserable, God hates me." He told me, "And you’re full of sh*t too!" I said, "What?!" He told me that I was trying to earn my salvation, invalidating grace and using Jesus’ death in vain. He told me, "Jesus took care of this. You’ve been forgiven and really, it’s not about you, and you have to accept that!" I thought he was really full of it, until I started to read the Bible for myself when I was about 20. I read and saw all these scriptures about love, forgiveness and the fact that everybody is accepted. The Bible was full of all these beautiful things that I had never seen before- It blew my mind.

Why is that? Weren’t those same words always there?

Indeed they were, but that’s not what we were taught in church. Most of the time, I was never really encouraged to read my Bible. So when I started reading it for myself, I thought it was really good news, but also knew that people had to hear more about this. All I wanted to do was tell people they are loved and accepted no matter what. So that’s what I’ve spent the past 14 years doing-letting people know that they are accepted-period. I always say that even the unacceptable parts are accepted, and I always say by a power greater than them. So many people are not at a point where they can even think about Jesus because they’ve been so hurt in his name. I want people to accept that there are no ifs ands or buts. You don’t have to be more spiritual or less spiritual, you’re accepted where you are. I’ve found great freedom in that concept of grace. God’s grace and love is as much for "the others" as it is for you and me, and I believe that is beautiful-it’s so beautiful that it’s scary.

What message do you have for right-wing Christian leaders?

I really don’t know what else to say to them except, "Hey we need to talk and have a conversation and take another look at this. You need to sit down with some LGBT folks and truly listen without an agenda."

You mentioned God’s love was as much for "the others..." What do you mean by this, who are the others?"

I struggle with it and fight with it, I doubt God all the time. I have a ton of times that I doubt my faith. But it’s that freedom of grace that keeps drawing me back in. It’s definitely not other believers that encourage me to keep following along... well maybe there are a few, but not a whole lot. It’s certainly not the church. It’s the grace and love that rises above everything that keeps me coming back, and wanting to create an atmosphere for people to see that they are loved and accepted.

Even the things that were unacceptable in my life that I had to accept. I had a really bad drinking problem; I realized that even that is accepted through Christ’s grace. I got into a 12-step program, which I’m still in today and I haven’t had a drink in 14 years. It took me accepting the grace from God and not any other reason for me to that. There are people who say, "I won’t drink because of the church" or "I won’t drink because of God." For me, I had to realize God accepted me and then accept him in to my life. God’s love and grace are outstanding and for everyone-they are there even for "bad people" who we may think are evil, the others whoever they may be. It’s for Jerry Falwell as much as it is for you and me.

Well there’s a bomb to drop. As a gay man I shiver just hearing his name. I can only imagine that it took a lot for you to just say that?

Oh yeah, because he did many bad things to my family. But there’s beauty in love and I got to a point where I realize that there is beauty in loving our enemies, it is the one way to disarm them. That’s how Gandhi did it and that’s how Martin Luther King Jr. did it-they loved those who hated them. They realized that people aren’t the enemy, it’s the messages and the words are the enemy. It’s really easy to put a face on evil and feel that a singular person is the problem. Human nature is the problem, the need to be exclusive, the need to be in your own group, your own little tribe and all the other tribes are bad. That seems to be the major problem. I’m open to a grace that allows me to love and pray for those who are persecuting me-I hope to live to see my enemies redeemed. That’s what grace does and it’s a beautiful thing. The more I look at it, it keeps growing and that’s why I wrote a book about it.

What are your thoughts about religion being thrown around so much?

We have a T-shirt that reads "Religion destroys" or "Religion kills" and I feel it’s true. Religion is a man-made concept where all the rules come in, following Christ for me is much more spiritual. For those who say, "I’m not religious. I’m spiritual" it’s a great place to start. I hope I’m not religious either; I want to follow Jesus to the best of my ability. I want to create a safe atmosphere for people to come to, not just on Sunday, but every day. A place for people to come to hang out, for them to talk, agree or disagree, a safe space for people grow together. To me that is not religion, if one day it becomes religion, then it’ll be great! I’d be telling everybody to call me religious. Somewhere along the road religion got lost to me today and religion has nothing to do with Christianity.

Well, you’ve had many life experiences that have led you to this point. I understand that somewhere along the way you met Jesus in a drag bar?

Yeah! It was one of those things where I was in LA; somehow RuPaul, who was doing the narration for the documentary about my mom, got a hold of me and invited my wife and I at the time to this drag show. I was very hesitant, that "religious voice" or self-condemning voice got a hold of me and was telling me, "Oh you’d better not go there, you know you shouldn’t be seen there." Sometimes I just want to knock that thing off my shoulder, it’s as if an angry preacher is standing on my shoulder saying, "You’re bad." That was about the time I was moving toward becoming an openly affirming pastor and church, but hadn’t publicly stated it yet. While I did hesitate, I went and it was cool.

Dita Von Teese (the famous burlesque dancer who married singer Marilyn Manson) was there and I was pretty stoked, I got my picture with her! When I went outside for a smoke, I met what must have been a seven-foot tall drag queen with the Eiffel Tower on her head. Reluctantly I reminded myself that while I know when someone reaches out I’m supposed to reach back, I don’t always do it perfectly. Still, we started to talk about Jesus and I learned this drag queen was a preacher’s son too. So of course, we talked a lot about what it was like growing up. He went on telling me how much he loved my mom and he was concerned about her cancer. He asked if I’d tell her how much he loved her and that he’s praying for her. I got another picture with him for my mom before going back inside.

Next thing I know, as the show wrapped up, that drag queen got up onstage and began spotlighting the famous people in the crowd. He mentioned Dita Von Teese and RuPaul and everyone cheers. Then he asked if people ever watched ever watch the Praise the Lord ministry and if remember Jim and Tammy Faye. I expected people to boo, but surprisingly at least half the audience raised their hands and cheered. Some laughed because I know they were thinking a drag queen would be coming out doing my mom. Instead, very excited he said, "Well, Jim and Tammy’s son, Jamie, is here!"

Suddenly, this huge spotlight hit me and I thought I was going to die-people cheered and the drag queen decides to tease and ask me questions. First he asked if I was straight and I pointed to my wife at the time, whom he said was a lucky lady. Then things got serious as he put his hands on his hips and went on to tell the crowd about how Jesus loved everybody without judgment. "If Jesus were alive that he’d be at the drag show too. After all, Jesus hung out with the tax collectors and the prostitutes and the sinners," he said. The crowd began cheering.

What was your reaction to the drag queen pointing you out and then the crowd’s response?

Well at first I was embarrassed - stunned actually - and didn’t know what to do because one minute a drag queen was making cracks about whether I’m gay, and the next minute he was saying these really amazing things about Jesus and grace. But I knew that he couldn’t have been more right. I personally know I’ve had deeper and more real conversations about Jesus in bars than in other places, I mean after all my church is held in a bar. That night at that burlesque club in Los Angeles, I witnessed firsthand a group of people who are judged and rejected their entire life by the church, who are hungrier than many people I know for the love and truth of Christ. It was like they really knew the real deal: revolutionary grace. That’s what they welcomed it into their lives.

How did that night in Los Angeles impact you?

It challenged me to step outside my comfort zone and let me know that what I was doing was right. It taught me that grace crops up where you least expect it and that there truly are no boundaries to God’s love. It helped me towards becoming an openly affirming pastor. It was a pretty incredible experience that I didn’t expect, but had to be open to.

What do you have to say to the many LGBT people who are hungry in faith but turned off by the thought of the church?

What I don’t think LGBT people realize is how much they can bring to the issue. Although they are hurt and wounded, they can help in the healing by being open, as they want the others to be. By sitting down with someone, getting to know them, and letting someone who otherwise has never genuinely known an LGBT person can change people’s hearts. They can be the messengers because those one-on-one’s change people’s lives.

I’m glad you mentioned your mom; after all she’s an icon in our community. What was it like growing up as Tammy Faye’s son?

Well I definitely enjoy shopping (laughing). Seriously, when my friends just want to stop at the store, I tell them that we’re going to walk around the mall for an hour and eat and enjoy it. That’s something my mom and I used to do all the time. We’d go to the mall and have dinner. She’d have dessert before dinner a lot of the times. She was a great mother. At the same time she would restrict us when we’d done bad things and she was definitely a mom.

She could be a little ball of fire when she needed to be. She was a really interesting and unique person who I’m so grateful for the fact she was my mother. I miss her terribly. I’m just happy I had that time with her and wish I could thank her for it. I don’t know if she knew it but she really is the one that showed me her love was the trump card-that love always trumps everything else. She taught me that what was important to people is that they were loved. So I bought into that and that’s probably why I do what I do.

She was the one who took me to my first MCC church; my first gay affirming church and I got to experience that. I walked in and saw the difference. This group of people seemed to want to worship God more than most Christians on Sunday because so many churches have forbid them to, sadly. Because of mom, I’m stepping up. She taught me that I should step forward and be open. Hopefully I’m building on something she taught me and that is being willing to take a stand on something and be affirming.

It must be difficult having stepped forward as an openly affirming pastor for our community. Some people might ask even why you’d do it?

I love it and I know that I can sleep well at night for the work I do. I know from talking with other pastors who say they wish they could do what I do, but they’re restricted. It’s like saying, "I know what I’m doing is wrong, but because the church say Bible tells me to, I’ll continue to twist the rules and say it even if it’s not there." That makes them miserable, which in itself is proof right there that it’s not for God, because they’d have peace inside if it were. I guess I should say that it’s fortunate they don’t have peace-so perhaps that will change things.

Do you see things changing?

Yes indeed people are changing, at conferences where they might have simply said that it was OK to be gay, they now have gay pastors speaking. Also, the more conservative right-wing folks, are pushing back pretty hard and unfortunately right now, they are the loudest. Still, I think they’re changing. I hope that they will truly see what grace is all about; loving one another and understanding one another and sharing in Christ together, no matter who we are or what others might think about it.

Any final thoughts for those struggling to change or for our readers?

I want to challenge everyone to push himself or herself in this same way, so they can learn what boundaries are they putting on grace. They should remember that Christ allowed everyone to sit at his table and who are they to change those rules. Finally, everyone should ask if his or her rules are consistent with grace.

Jay Bakker is the son of Jim Bakker and Tammy Faye Messner, the co-pastor of Revolution Church in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and the author of the new book; Fall to Grace: A Revolution of God, Self, and Society

Should I Become A Total Slut?

I’m a recovering (recovered) Catholic. That said my guilt index when it comes to sex remains pretty high. I’m not a prude by any means. I try not to judge people or most of what they do. There are, however, some definite no-no’s in my book. They are pretty common sense ones. Bestiality sickens me, as do people who prey on children. Anything that has to do with scat or blood is taboo. There are also things that make me extremely uncomfortable, such as fisting, piercing, inserting things into the urethra, and torture of the nipples or balls. I realize that discomfort is the goal of those activities… but I don’t want anything to do with any of it. Extreme pain is not sexy. Electro-play also makes me cringe a bit.

There are also things that just bug me: like older men (over 35, and especially those over 40) who only want to be with boys under the age of 20. Something about that dynamic creeps me out – probably something to do with the imbalance of power (financial, educational, life experience) implicit in such a relationship. I hate it when people take advantage of other people. It strikes me as just this side of pedophilia. I also have to ‘just say no’ to anything involving pantyhose, women’s panties and bras – especially when worn by a man. It just does nothing for me (but I respect your right to lead your own parade). Also the world of pnp? Uh-uh. Meth makes for bad sex. And there’s enough bad sex in the world without anyone chemically inducing it. Some would consider poppers and 420 as part of the pnp world, but I don’t. I’m okay with poppers and 420 – as long as the sex doesn’t suffer.

But then part of me also says, “to each, their own” - not when it comes to the illegal stuff or the painful and dangerous stuff. But for those of you who adore the look of your pleasure trail leading to something pink and frilly, or those of you who get physically ill over the idea of having sex with someone your own age… hey, whatever floats your boat. Live and let live.

That pretty much sums up my list of “uh-uh’s”.

I do have personal preferences, but nothing I haven’t made exceptions for.

I‘ve had sex with people of every race. I love all the physical differences and the variety of cultural mindsets related to sex – especially man on man sex. When it comes to race, I base my decision to pursue or be pursued solely on whether or not the personality involved is one that trips my trigger. Yes, I’m an equal opportunity enjoyer!

I’ve also been with people of every size – and I’m not talking penis size, although I think I’ve dealt with the full spectrum there, too. As a general rule, obese people do not turn me on. But there have been exceptions. Never underestimate the power of a great smile, a little charm, a good sense of humor, or a double martini. Circumstances and desperation play their part, too, no doubt. The same can be said for the borderline anorexic. No, as a general rule, but there have been some rather sweet exceptions.

And age? Well, as a general rule of thumb I don’t pursue anyone under the age of thirty (I’m too old for you, and you are too inexperienced/unformed/uptight for me) or above the age of sixty (I have had some really bad surprises when opening the mystery date door). But then again there have been some incredible exceptions. And some not so incredible – but I’m flexible and willing to work with what the universe gives me. Good sex is good no matter the package.

I think at this point in my sexual life (having gotten a really late start) I have reached a point where in order to continue expanding my whore-izons (horizons) I must decide once and for all: Should I become a total slut?

I was originally going to title this ‘Should I Become a Slut’… but based on the sheer number of sexual partners I have in had thus far, I’m thinking that the ‘should’ in that query, at this point, is pretty mute. I am a slut. No doubt about it. I don’t wear it as a badge of courage (on occasion I still try to get away with being demure), but when cornered, I don’t deny it, either.

No, the question before me is, should I become a total slut. What, you may ask, is the distinction?

For me – and I realize this is a personal delineation/definition (for some, I have crossed that line, too) – it has to do with a little device called a sling. For those of you who live at church, a sling is a platform, usually made of leather suspended from the ceiling or a metal frame by chains. It serves as the altar of sacrifice (giving it up oh-so willingly) for your average power bottom.

I now consider myself a bottom (not always the case), but I am still not a power bottom. To achieve that distinction I would need to give myself over to a world I am not sure I belong. The whole dungeon scene intrigues me. I have stood on the side lines a few times – but it made me feel like a spectator at a coliseum in ancient Rome. I’m also intrigued by leather, group play (I have never been to a sex party), multiple/multiple partners, bath house and backroom scenes; basically the underbelly of the male gay world.

I need to point out that I don’t mean underbelly in a bad way. There is a hierarchy in the world of m4m sex. The hierarchy of the male gay world (according to me)? That’s another blog entry, maybe next week’s installment. Maybe.

Back to the question of total slutdom: To become a total slut, I would have to immerse myself in a world that frequently involves things that I can’t see myself ever gaining any pleasure from. In fact, the few times I have danced along the edge of the underbelly, I found myself having to say ‘no’ to a lot of things: (“No, you may not stick your fist in my ass. No, you may not strike my ass with that leather riding crop. No, you may not choke me. No, you may not bind my balls and smack them with your hand. No, you may not hit me in the face.”). Okay, so the provided examples may indicate that I may have, in fact, stuck my toe in the water a bit. But you get the general idea of what I fear happening.

I like the idea of the sling. The total surrender it signifies. Being vulnerable is sexually arrousing to me. But the type of activities you open yourself up to in the kind of environment where you would find a sling brings the concept of vulnerability to a whole ‘nother level.

Now you might think it is the psychological impact and subsequent consequences that I am afraid of, but that is not the case. The mind games I can handle. My mind has been fucked (see reference to Catholic Church and the world of the theatre). I have developed a resilience to and the ability to recover from such fuckery. It’s the physical stuff that concerns me. Safety, being of primary concern. I don’t want to end up physically hurt or marred. I also don’t want the clap, crabs or worse.

The other thing that keeps me from delving in? All the props and costumes. I come from theatre (which is what the Catholic mass is really about, people), (I also ‘did’ the theatre/stage/performance thing for – well, a long, long time) – and I hate all that stuff (now). Don’t get me wrong. I love leather. The smell alone is enough to send me to my happy place. I also think at least twenty percent of those who wear it, wear it well. Yes, when it’s hot, it is hot.

But when it’s not? Well, that would be when it feels staged, inappropriate, or just looks tacky (I’m talking to the 80% of you who should NOT wear leather – and yes, I’m probably included in that number). I hate it when accoutrements get in the way of a good time. What I know of theatre, and I mean know the hard way, is that for a show to run smoothly you must coordinate your props well. A bad scene change can cost you your show. Pulling this off (no pun intended) is a learned skill and an innate talent. So, most people are simply not up to the task. Either the emotional/physical involvement of the actual sex takes precedent and things get fucked up, or they are simply inept and too uncoordinated to be successful.

Another thing that makes opening this particular door difficult for me, is the fact that once said door is open, many people don’t have the good sense to know the difference between what is ‘fun’ and what is ‘lame’. I’ll give you an example. I had a guy who wanted to role play. Now, I’m all for role play. I love ‘buddies staying overnight’, ‘coach gives a massage’, ‘coach and OTK’, ‘wrestling buds’, and ‘you’re in the army now-lick my boots scumbag’ scenarios. I’ll even play the whole ‘son/daddy/big brother/little cousin’ thing, as long as it doesn’t become too ridiculous. But this guy? He wants to play ‘good doggie’, and I have to be the dog. It put me off a bit. I had to think about it. I consider the following: I’m there, we’re both already naked and hard, the guy is reasonably attractive and the environment feels safe to me. So I pant for him. I ‘wag my tail’ for him. Then he makes the mistake of bringing out the props. He puts a leather collar and a leash on me. I wore it for about two minutes. Then I took it off myself. End of game. And believe me – I am all for trying new things and pleasing my sex partner. But that leash? Well, that was a span of leather too far. I couldn’t go there, because while certain degrees of humiliation can be very sexually stimulating… feeling totally ridiculous ain’t gonna keep my dick hard.

So there are my concerns. My issues. My sensibilities and take on the choice at hand. I have just enough experience and knowledge to make me leery of the whole thing. Maybe this is one of those instances where I should listen to that little feeling in my gut.

I can remain a generic slut forever. I may have to move to another section of the country or another country in order to find new sexual partners, but I can continue my edgy, dirtier-than-vanilla, somewhat skanky ways for the rest of my time on this earth. Or I could dive in, experience something new and then decide it is not for me.

Doing an about face is not always about admitting defeat. Sometimes it’s just good common sense or done in good taste. For me, there would be no sense of shame. No scarlet ‘A’. You see, sometimes that red badge of courage is just a big old scarlet ‘A’ – but in either case – it’s something earned. I could with that without deluding myself. I’m not one of those who fool enough to think I could be a virgin again.

But then that is what role play is for.

To be honest, I’m riding the fence on this one. At this point, I’m not overly concerned about splinters… but let’s face it – indecision sucks, and also - it’s not the kind of wood I like to have between my legs.