THE NOTHING KING

So Friends,

Why have I changed my name?

You've known me by many names during our social networking years:

Juliet Frank, Julian Pansy, Jennifer Flowers, Juliet DiCaprio, et al

And if you knew me before the social networks you know I had many names way back then too:

Ed, Cookie, Sharpie, Nirvana, Tasha, Robin & more….

I've always hated the name that was given to me at birth 

Because it's a hyper-feminine disaster of a name that brings to mind

Some kind of douching product.

Google "Jennifer Flowers" and you will find:

A) Lots about the presidential whore named Gennifer Flowers who was

well-acquainted w/ Bill Clinton & is a 6' blond with torpedo tits

B) Lots & lots of Flower Shoppes:

Jenny's Flowers!

Jennifer's Flowers!

Flowers by Jennifer!

You get the picture…

C) strippers & porn stars whose names are probably Karen Jones or Stacey Smith

who wanted a hyper-feminine douche-name like Jennifer Flowers

********And Friends,

It's probably no secret to you

That I'm "gender dysphoric"

That I despise being a female more than I hate having

A lazy eye or being short or having thin, lifeless hair, or bad posture

To me being a female is the utmost deformity & none

Of those other things really matter, even

When you make fun of them.

Being called "she" hurts 

As much as the 'N' word or 'F' word or 'M' word

Can hurt certain people

Mostly I've remained silent about it--what can I do?

I look like a "she" so that's what people will call me

So I just suck it up & respond on cue to the feminine invocations

I've tried & tried to appreciate being female & feel like a goddess

(I DO NOT feel like a goddess)

I know that feeling horror about one's gender

Is something that is HILARIOUS to people who are 'cis'gendered

(cisgendered = you are happy & content w/ the gender you were assigned at birth

due to certain anatomical features)

Despite how hilarious it is to so many people, I've decided

To make a big transition in my life.  The past 6 months

Have been a rollercoaster of questions & emotions & decisions & tears

That I have not dealt with in 40-some-odd years and

Last year I knew I could not keep on not dealing with them.

The first step in this transition was deciding to face it & telling

A few trusted friends

The next step is happening right now--I'm telling you all, The World, the Facebook Empire

This is the "social transition"

The biggest part of the social transition is changing one's name,

And as you can see I'm doing that too!

*************

So Friends,

Here's a little bit about me new name:

Vin J Whitman is a name that I like & can be proud of & live with more comfortably than 'JF'

"Vin" is the name of my newest alter-ego who came to me on 4-24-14

My alter-egos always come with names--I don't really "choose" them

He told me his name was Vin & I said "Like Vin Diesel??"

And he said "Yeah, but not really like that." It is short for Vincent (not Melvin or Alvin or Marvin or Kevin) and it is a family name and all the Vincents just get called Vin anyway so that's what his (my) parents named him.

(I know this bit about the alter-ego is probably more confusing than the rest of this.

Just try to accept it though...)

In Vietnam, Vin is a girl's name.

VIN is a really long number that identifies your vehicle.

Vin is "wine" in French

V.I.N. is even a kind of vaginal cancer--yay!--but I can sort of see the humor in that…

I've even heard of shaven-headed butch lesbians being called 'Vin Diesel dykes'

But I'm good with all that. When my alter ego said he was me in male form & his name was 'Vin'

I just said 'Okay. Cool.'

The 'J' will remain private for now. It's a name that Tony & I decided on

Together, and I just want to keep it between us.

I thought having a 'J' name in the middle would keep it real & familiar

And "Whitman" is a nice strong last name that I chose mainly after Walt Whitman (because

Vin Ginsberg doesn't sound so great : ))

And also after Don Draper (whose real name was Dick Whitman before he stole

A dead soldier's identity)

And after the box of chocolates, which we've all heard is a metaphor for life

"You never know what you're gonna get!"

But if you bite into a cherry cordial & you prefer a salted caramel

You can always spit it out & try again, right??

************

There, Friends

That is a lengthy zoo-exhibit narration of my name. Thank you for reading this far, if you have.

I know a lot of you will not be "on board" with this.

I will always be 'Jenny' to you, and you don't want to have to think of me as

Anything else. That is okay. I know it will take time for people to understand.

Take as long as you need. But when you feel like you can call me 'Vin'

Go ahead. I will appreciate it.

My husband, Tony the Moonface Moonchild, is finally getting used to it

And is calling me that. It took him some time & I was patient.

I can be patient with the world as well.

And if you can't have respect for these changes I'm going through &

You want to laugh at me and be mean-spirited about it, go ahead

I can handle it--I expect it, sadly--I expect crude, juvenile, phallocentric commentary

And I'm willing to put up with it for however long it lasts

But PLEASE PLEASE do have respect for Tony, who has

Stood by me when it was difficult for him to understand & when I have

Been so gender dysphoric I could barely continue living

He is the reason I've stayed & fought & found the courage to become

Who I really am inside, and it has NOT BEEN EASY FOR HIM.

He is a saint. 

So please direct all hatred or scorn my way, not his.

And I will have faith that the hatred & scorn will give way to

Understanding & acceptance in its time.

I'm ready to be alone, abandoned, unfriended by many people.

I even know I'm at risk for physical violence, as all trans people are.

But if Kristin Beck can go through Navy Seal training & deploy to Afghanistan 13 times

And come out to the world as who she is, then I am willing

To get roughed up on American soil to be who I am.

I just hope it doesn't happen : 0

I hope I am pleasantly surprised, and that all my friends (who are mostly in their 40s & 50s)

Are just like "Yeah, okay, I can handle this"

My new name won't be LEGAL til later this year, so you all

Have plenty of time to get used to it on Facebook

And, in case you were wondering, 

There won't be any physical changes until at least next year…

But that is a whole 'nother level of coming out and I won't go there today

I will leave you with the name change to ponder

And I will say THANK YOU again for reading this far

I really do love my friends, I have a hard time connecting with anyone

In this world & I am so thankful to have found Moonface & the few friends

That I have on this planet who are smart, talented, open-minded

Parachute-unicorn-people!!!!

I know I go on like a self-narrating zoo exhibit & you laugh,

But guess what?? I have been watching & listening closely to the world

And you are ALL self-narrating zoo exhibits too,

Yes indeed you are! [The only difference is i write &

You talk]

LOVE and PEACE,

Vin J Whitman

SEE YA IN THE GOTH GARAGE!

Friends…

HERE'S A VIDEO FOR YOU:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OiHIlDn67aE&feature=youtu.be

AND HERE ARE SOME WORDS TO GO WITH IT:

In a world of technically savvy aliens, I lurk like an old shadow barely able to find a patch of light to inhabit.

I am a Techno-rex…a wreck of barely usable footage in this visual scroll of modern life.

In a world that lives on a 3 x 5 rectangle in the palm of everyone's hand, where 11-year-old girls play the 'Comfortably Numb' guitar solo more perfectly than Gilmour ever could,

where weasels ride the backs of woodpeckers and Ellen deGeneres joins them via photoshop, 

where the most beautiful art can be displayed instantly with no gallery submission statement,

where we can watch ISIS gangsters spew hate if we want to,

where we have the right to say what we want and misspell it as badly as our hearts desire….

I am barely clinging on. I hold onto this technological hamster wheel with the tip of my pinky finger and try to participate as best I can with my scant knowledge of (and even scanter interest in) gadgetry.

I've tried to embrace technology --remember the summer of '13??--but it really does bore the crap out of me. It is not like working with a paintbrush, or like just doing something without having to coax the machinery to cooperate with you. It is not warm & friendly…but what is?

I wish I understood what I was doing here in Artificial Intellegencity, but I certainly don't. I still have no interest in recording music on digital multi-track formats. I have no interest in taking photos & then "enhancing them" with hideous special effects & additives that distort the moment I've captured. 

I've even tried to learn iMovie since I've been recording video…but it's like working with a jumpy, inattentive child-clown-thing (like Ted Nugent).

So…here I am…in the 2010s….recording video in one take….holding onto the imperfections & mistakes…forgoing any special (stupid) effects….

I remember in the 00's, my friend & I decided we were going to be Vagrant Poets With Cameras and we went about with a Sony camera, (ie a real point & shoot camera with lens & light-settings, etc…) reading poems in public places & climbing on the sculptures that lined the Bayfront & watching peoples' faces with the camera lens…

Then she went off to have an affair with some married Republican woman in Lakewood Ranch…(not true, but that was her story & she stuck to it)

And I was a Vagrant Poet alone….

Then Moonface joined me and we began to shoot scenes w/ our own little movie stars -- all the stuffed animals I'd collected in my lifetime. It was fun to shoot the footage…but then there was the technology to wrestle with afterward…Moonface did a better job at handling iMovie than I did, but it ate up lots of time & memory & interest drifted elsewhere…

I know this world is only going to get more techno-centric as it moves forward and I know I will not get any more interested in it. But I will do what I can…for as long as I wish to…and when I want to give up, I will give up. It will probably be a big relief too…

Everything keeps getting "simpler" and yet more cluttery, clusterfucky, artificial and counter-intuitive…

At least to a Techno-rex like me.

I wish I could give you the futuristic genius of perfectly edited Vine clippings or dazzlingly perfect art drawn with a stylus on a hard slippery screen…

I wish I didn't love paper & pencils & paintbrushes so much. But I do. I love words and keyboards with keys. I like being in direct 3-D contact with what I'm doing…if that makes sense.

I will one day not be able to communicate with anyone and that scares me a bit, BUT I know I will die in the not-too-distant future & that is comforting….

In the meantime, I sure wish I could figure out how to get more hits on my blog…It's my only way of talking to the world & no one really visits… 

Is it my overuse of the dreaded ellipsis…?????

Turkey To Turquoise; Watercolors To Words

Hi Friendlies,

Here are some Vogon Poetries for you to enjoy on your drunken Saturday. 

I know my poems frighten some people because they are about…PEOPLE. And personhood. But I am not, I swear, writing about any specific person or people in my real life (except on rare occasions, and on those rare occasions, you will know without a doubt if a poem is about you.) And that's not necessarily a bad thing…I write because I am curious, confused, amazed, hurt or heartbroken. Not because I know anything about people that you don't know.

To me, people are just NATURE. Fuck sunsets!! Fuck forests, and waterfalls, and sandhill cranes. PEOPLE are the crazy/complex beautiful/ugly specimens that capture my eye & interest. As dull as we all can be, we are also very fascinating. You included/me included.

So please don't be paranoid & self-conscious (like a flower never would). And if you have any complaints, please send them to my publicist (though she has died. R.I.P. Juliet)

This first poem is actually based on a news story from last October. I entered it in the Rattle 'Poets Respond' contest & it didn't win, surprisingly!

********************

A FRIEND LIKE FREIN

I found a quiet corner

In the club

My girlfriend took the stage

W/ ginger charisma & Telecaster

During tuning

My eye drifted to the silent TV

Hung like a neon cobweb

Over buzzing bartenders’ heads

There he was in handcuffs,

Diapered clown

Village terrorist

Most-wanted idiot

Manhunt Ends in Pennsylvania

The cobweb announced

And I half-expected the clown

To somehow wrest

A homemade grenade

From his shit-stained pocket

But he walked & looked

Like a man & a boy at the same time

(approx. 10 hours ago

when the sun still shone

And I made love

with the one onstage)

Now he’s caught on the 

Tangential screen

And smaller cameras

Snap his image

His lifeless whiteness

Punctuated by a bloody nose

But mostly unharmed

As the Marshals lead him

Through the muted celebration

A town without its clown

Can dance & shout & finally

Fall asleep

From behind I get clunked

On the skull & turn around to see

The Ex Boyfriend

My personal terrorist

And village hipster

Doing his best Frein imitation

Still hoping we’ll be friends--

Fricative, grinning,

Hands-on friends

Cuffing me with

Insults and ego

As seven weeks ago

The cuffs around the killer

Were held 

By his executed trooper

10-31-14

Expressionist watercolor kitty vs. ...

...Impressionist watercolor kitty

************

[NERVOUS] BREAKDOWN DURING [EBOLA] OUTBREAK

I used to count dead soldiers

But those numbers ceased to have

Any value as news

Why do I love counting?

It stops me in my tracks

I count everything from death

To socks &

It makes my brain flicker

But that pituitary lightbulb

Falters on weak filaments

When I'm forced to remember

Peoples' names

The compulsion

To count your eye blinks, your

Undisclosed throbs

My greatest pleasure, gone

Even your nude ministrations

Can't ease the gridlock

Now I count hours,

Days, and words

And there's no nudity, just tears

Gender-neutral tears

Too many to count so I just count

Episodes of sorrow

Sometimes feature-length

Sometimes longer

But never a 30-second spot

Between comedies

My memory for numbers 

Is a dystopia, a dysphoric

Dysfunction

My tear ducts cough instead of

Crying

My heart's close-captioned hoof beats

Are allegedly hard to hear

Yet

I'm told

They're way too loud

I'm told,

"Get over it, man

Everyone is hurting

But you don't see them

Counting & crying

Be a man!

Be happy Jack

Not a harsh Jane"

11-07-14

***********

Phone Number w/ middle names

SURVIVING THANKSGIVING

It mattered this year

That your family is carved like a turkey

Strung-out meat held together

By gamey fibers,

Easily torn…

But your worry was 

For nought

There were no tears for 

Thanksgiving

In the end you held strong

To your side of the wishbone--

With or without the hyoid joint

Your truth was fortuitous

You know how temporary

All families

All turkeys

All wishes are

And you can go on…

Through blizzards & riots

Most of America survived

Its 411th Thanksgiving w/ you

You shared yours w/ "girlfriends"

Like you could have all your life

If you'd been born a girl

You had the kind of holiday

You'll try to repeat every year

From now on…

****** THANKSGIVING PART 2

How to follow turkey talk?

With meatier meteors & particle physics?

Launched convo with too-pretty girl 

Behind counter behind too-thick spectacles

She was too busy brooding 

To notice your 

Nerd-in-plain-sight behind nothing

Landing

Should we flow linguistically

From "turkey" to "turquoise"?

Let's do it.

We had a turquoise refrigerator (& stove)

In my childhood home

Turquoise trim on its

Mid-century modern edges,

Concentric turquoise rhombi on the garage door

Where a black cat 

Was almost squeezed to death

When she didn't run underneath

Fast enough

Turquoise & Black

My favorite color combination

On the spectrum or wheel 

I've read/heard/experienced

The walls in asylums

Painted cool pink

(Baker's pink)

To soothe the screams of

Patients

Please paint mine turquoise

If I ever get that lost

Again….

11-30-14

Phone Number w/ middle names II

Holy crap!! Those were very long. I hope you're still with me. And I hope you enjoy the hideous artworks I've shared with you. I know I am a terrible writer, artist & musician, but those are the things that make me feel more like you & less like me. If ya know what I mean...

Return To The Goth Garage

This has been a weekend of death. Not fun, scripted, zombie/vampire romance death. Real death; young death; close death; sad death. Multiple reports of sudden death...
That is life.

The deer skull was found in Arizona c. 1974 by a friend of the Moonface. We did not shoot it, except with a camera. It was most likely roadkill.

I've got to work on the lighting in the Goth Garage...it's not very goth right now.

Here's the video
Return To The Goth Garage

GOTH GARAGE

This is how I cheer up after a yuck(ish) week

Pixel & Eloise In An Alien Landscape

Hi Friends-who-are-People,

I hope your new year is going well. So far it is going a lot better than the end of last year for me, but since we're only 2 weeks in I won't get too complacent…

I have some art for you…I'm sorry it's not great…I'm busy & distracted & synthetically medicated…but I still try at least : ) : ) : )

And I may not have very much art for you this year--(don't cry)--because I have struck upon an idea I will call "a creative business venture" even though that moniker depresses me.

My husband, The Moonchild, and I have been thinking upon "creative business ventures" for a couple of years now, and finally one came to me! I will probably have to invest most of this year's allotted time to initiating this venture, but…

I will still try to bring you the ugly art, sucky music videos and Vogon poetry you crave with all your souls.

Because that's how much I love you.

I sure do miss our scanner!!!

Somatic Squid

Happy New Year People!

Sorry I have not been around to entertain the pants off you lately. I had a relapse of 'nervosa breakdownitis' in December & was void of any entertainment value.

But I am happy we have a New Year in which to be joyous, thankful & ridiculous. I have heard more than a handful of people say that 2014 was a very difficult year, but a year that was very rewarding for its troubles. And I couldn't agree more.

The frightening breakdowns in my life have led me to people/places/changes I wouldn't have met/gone/made if life had just proceeded as pleasantly as usual. And I can only be grateful for that.

As always, I will show up here when I need to...to Octopus Diary this odd thing called "being a person in a body on a planet." I will have art for you (soon, I promise!) and new, improved music videos [sorry I subjected you to such shitty, untalented musicianship...no excuses, but I didn't play for many years then suddenly needed to start playing again...]...

...and who knows what else this year will bring for me to Vogonize and rap about. Hopefully good stuff...

...for ALL of us...

PEACE!