Zareh

Fag Force Five

2003-09-10T00:10:00.000-04:00

Okay, I know I just did my Queer Eye thing, but I feel the need for another quick shot. I have watched this show several times, enjoyed it each viewing, and was filled with a semi-pleasent glow of one-world low and togetherness.

It didn't last long. There is a storm brewing on Gay Street. Its not in the form of religious zealots coparing homosexuality with poligmy, nor is it those eternal pesimist who despise anything even vaugely popular. This time, the call is coming from insie the house.

There has been a backlash against the show from our own community, a tirade of hate towards the Fab Five because, of all things, they are gay. Stereotypically gay, that is. Aparently, the only time some among us want to see Gays on TV is when they are starkly conservitive, with a firm wrist and lackng the hint of any feminity. This is nothing short of self-loathing, or as I like to call it, the LCR syndrome, and is one of the more sinister elements of our community.

I am not what I would consider visably gay; I blend well, I can talk to people at a party and still ctach a girl's eye. I have never felt this makes me any better, or any worse, then another Gay who was so flaming you could view him with only still-photos from an orbiting satellite and say, with great conviction, that the only time he has ever seen a vagina was when his mother birthed him.

This behavior is unacceptable and only serves to damage our community...if they were succesful, how fucking bland would we be?

Hurt

2003-09-05T12:04:00.000-04:00

Okay, you need to know something before I go one here: I am not hip. I have never claimed to be, and I have doubts I ever will be, and therefore I am usually the last to pick up on things. The video "Hurt," which Johnny Cash covered from Nine Inch Nails, is a perfect example of this.

I caught the video about a week ago when my brother mentioned it. He is very in touch, as far as music goes, and was shocked when I professed my ignornece. We immeditaly went to doanload the video, and I spent about the next half and hour watching it, rewinding it, watching it again. It was simply stunning.

I have never been a fan of Johnny Cash, though I have always loved "Ring of Fire" for some reason, but I would be hard-pressed to name another. I even tested myself by downloading the mp3 and listening to it, sans video, to see if it was the actual song or the powerful imagery from director Mark Romaneak that had moved me.

The song wins out, but the video is amazing. If you haven't seen it, take a look here.

Bowling for Columbine

2003-08-31T22:52:00.000-04:00

I had meant to watch Bowling for Columbine in the theater. Problem was, I couldn’t drag anyone else to see it. I know it shouldn't matter, but I am still a little uncomfortable sitting in a theater alone. Sue me.

Anyway, I finally got the DVD and sat down to watch it. I have to say that, as much as I think I know about guns, I learned a lot. I have always subscribed to the idea that, because we are a country that has unlimited access to weapons, the end result is that we have far more gun-related shootings than any other country. It made sense, and the general attitude of the NRA and other gun-loving associations seemed to cement this notion.

It turns out that nothing is as simple as it may seem.

As Moore points out, our friendly neighbors to the North disprove this theory quite dramatically. In a nation of 30 million people, or roughly 10 million families, there are 7 million legally-owned weapons in the hands of its citizenry. In Canada, there were 165 Gun Murders in 1999. In the US, this number spirals into a massive 11,127. Granted, there are more people in the US then in Canada (Canada: 31,902,268; US: 280,562,489), but even with that, in 1999 an American citizen was still 7.7 times as likely to be killed by a gun then a Canadian.

So it isn't the guns. That wasn't too surprising to me; I have always held a belief that, beneath all the self-serving bullshit from the pro and anti-gun camps that only one undeniable truth peaks out of the rabble. Pro and anti-gun people don't like each other. More than any other factor, Anti-gun individuals (like myself) despise the (assumed) red-necked, gun-toting, racist white guys, while the Pro-gun individuals view me as a left-winged, tree-hugging, neo-fascist vegans (myself: yes, yes, only on Thursdays, and no).

A wholly biased and unfair view, to be certain, but here is an interesting fact: In 1871, the same year the KKK became an illegal terrorist organization, another group was founded, the National Rifle Association. One of the very fist acts the pushed through was a law banning African-Americans from owning and purchasing handguns. Interesting...

Filed Under Bizzare

2003-08-21T03:27:00.000-04:00

So we had an AP rep stop by today, presumedly to explain in fine detail and with quasi-british accent the rate-hike for the per-picture contract we have with them for photgraphy (I know I am pulling aside the curtain a little here, but did you honestly think we have a world-wide staff armed with cameras? Please...we barely have local photographers). He was very charming, with a ready, gleeming smile and a firm hand-shake, and he was kind enough to make his way back to my lowly cubicle.

"It's a rape whistle, eh?" He practiclly squeled with glee, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Um, well..." I was a little taken aback. A few thoughts raced to the front of my mind, like why the fuck was this str8, grinning idiot assuming that gay men needed rape whistles? Can he even concieve of the fact that this might just be a tad insulting? Why, in this day and age, is there still this out-dated sterotype of...it was about this time that I was horrified to find my mouth had already begun to speak without any prompting from my brain, which is how this whole communication this should work, after all.

"You won't need that with me...I actually quite easy."

I don't know which one of us was more horrified by that utterance. He erupted in a sort of convusion of nervous laughter, quite un-becomming of a dignified Brit in my opinion, and make a hasty exit amid fumbled goodbyes from both of us. I was stuttering a storm.

Workplace Crush

2003-08-20T18:06:00.000-04:00

You should know something about me; I have no taste. None. I fall for guys how are disastrous for me, who show no interest in me, or who are str8 (the later usually going hand in hand with the second item, unless a lot of alcohol is currently being imbued). With my recent situation of kinda-sorta being back on the market again (I lack the energy to put that into coherent though right now...more later), my libido seems to be wandering in search of something fun yet horribly, horribly wrong for me.

Subject One: Adam
Adam was recently hired at the Blade, moving from his sales position at our sister paper the Southern Voice. He is partnered with a former Blade employee who was equally hot, if not more so (Okay, a lot more so, but Adam is no slouch). Adam is brash, arrogant and cruelly sarcastic ...naturally, my heart did a little back-flip instantly. I need to get out more.

There is certainly a lack of confidence issue going on here, and that is the main reason I have yet to explore other venues for meeting people. I need to get to the gym, certainly. I need a hair-cut, but that is pretty easily sloved. My thyroid makes me sweat like a bitch in anthing over 80 degress though...I need to meet a guy in the fall and then move to Alaska. Otherwise, I am pretty gross in the summer/spring months. Either way, these are just hang-ups, and I need to deal and get over them.

Last Human on Earth to See "Queer Eye"

2003-08-20T01:13:00.000-04:00

Okay...just caught the midnight rerun of Queer Eye, and I have to admit, the show is pretty decent. The first half of it was anyway, where they are tearing apart the poor str8 guy's apartment and wardrobe like a pack of hungry, yet fabulous, wolves. The subject this week was a NY cop right out of Brooklyn, accent and all, and the perfect target.

I liked how he (the Cop) began the episode kind of stand-offish, but in the end seemed to warm up to the gay guys a lot and felt comfortable around them. Not doubt that he will be telling fag jokes in the locker room of his precinct the day after, but for a while it was nice to see a tough str8 go a little soft.

One thing I don't get about the show: What is with the bizarre "Hints from Heloise" segment they tack onto the end of the show? I keep expecting Carson to put on a blond wig and spout some inane comment like "Use a common cheese greater to add that worn-in look to new jeans...it's a gay thing."

The last 20 minutes of the show drags on without mercy, but the pay-off seemed worth it. I will check it out again next week before I decide to ad it into my rotation.

One a side note, I did finish "Snow Falling on Ceadars". Finally. It was a struggle to get through (it wasn't a difficult read, just rather borring...but, to be fair, it wasn't called "Snow Fallling on Ceadars Really Fast," so I should have taken the hint). I had put so much trust and good faith into this book, even when I knew it was a lost cause, that in the end I was left feeling like I had tried very hard to help someone slowly violate me. Do not read this book.

Bliss in the Blade Office

2003-08-19T22:48:00.000-04:00

I know that I should be thrilled with my job at the Washington Blade, and I am. I really am. I tell myself everyday just how happy I am to work there. It's become my mantra.

That being said, why the fuck can't people set up their damn email? How hard is it? These are the same people that never learned how to drive stick (which, there is no excuse for...I won't even date a guy who can't. It's a signpost for things to come), and have never changed their own oil. I just want to grab them and scream "YOU ARE NOT A MAN!" right in their faces (I can't do the Fez voice, unfortunately).

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job...why the FUCK is the Classifieds Department more important then our actual content...I love my job. I adore the fact that our Classifieds Manger will eagerly add hours onto my intranet site build to save himself a few minutes of work every Friday. I relish the role of "IT Guy" I have been forced to assume since, apparently, no one in the office can safely operate anything more technical than a blender without having their hand held. I practically orgasm when the Atlanta office sends me an email on Tuesday asking if they can have a form, with over 60 fields, ready by Friday, since they went ahead and printed the fact that there would be an online poll that week. I...love...my...job.

I hate the often-racist "Bitch Session" we insist on running in the paper (that's irony, folks! C'mon, this is my best shit here).

However, I just love the fact that Toby slammed a pedestrian article we slapped together for the arts section on everyone's favorite topic: Bloggers. I was a tad miffed that, despite sending him a sneak-peak and a follow-up when I read his well-deserved rant, that he didn't drop a line back. He is quite angry, which I like, so I can let it slide.

Grrrrrr...okay, enough of that. Happy, positive, shiny thoughts tomorrow...

I Get Letters

2003-08-01T17:58:00.000-04:00

As the webmaster for four newspapers, I tend to get a lot of email. Most of it is spam, and the rest is usually A) questions from readers that are so absurd that I question whether they have ever used the internet before or B) Really weird shit. This falls in the later catagory:

Hello,

I'm a time traveler stuck here in 2003. Upon arriving here my dimensional warp generator stopped working. I trusted a company here by the name of LLC Lasers to repair my Generation 3 52 4350A watch unit, and they fled on me. I am going to need a new DWG unit, prefereably the rechargeable AMD wrist watch model with the GRC79 induction motor, four I80200 warp stabilizers, 512GB of SRAM and the menu driven GUI with front panel XID display.

I will take whatever model you have in stock, as long as its received certification for being safe on carbon based life forms.

In terms of payment:
I dont have any Galactic Credits left. Payment can be made in platinum gold or 2003 currency upon safe delivery of unit.

Please transport unit in either a brown paper bag or box to below coordinates on Monday July 28th at (exactly 3:00pm) Eastern Standard Time on the dot. A few minutes prior will be ok, but it cannot be after. If you miss this timeframe please email me.

Latitude N 42.48018 & Longitude W 071.15503 and the Elevation is 96.

WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TRANSPORT ITEM BY REGULAR MEANS OF TELEPORTATION. THEY ARE MONITORING AND WILL REDIRECT THE SIGNAL!! I DO NOT CARE HOW YOU HAVE TO GET IT HERE, JUST DO IT IN A WAY THAT NO SPYING EYES WILL POSSIBLY BE ABLE TO REDIRECT THE TRANSFERENCE. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU BE ABLE TO MONITOR THE TRANSFER.

Although those coordinates are a secure guarded area, these channels through email are never secure. Unfortunately it is the only form of communication I have right now.

After unit has been sent please email me at: info@federalfundingprogram.com with payment instructions. Do not reply directly back to this email.

Thank You,

buildinge xfe ykqhomenkxmumxktsv

Rugby

2003-07-31T20:45:00.000-04:00

Had a bad day...until recently, that is. I went over to Titan and met up with Jimbo from the Washington Renegades. Had a blast. Jim was more or less exactly what I expected: funny, intelligent, judgemental, and very open...just what I hoped for. He'll make an excellent DM. We have decided that I will bring in a Warpriest Dwarf, since all the other guys just plat half-elves and humans with super-high CHA's. This should work out well.

So that made an otherwise hellish day better. I was up at 3am in oder to ensure that all the sites were loaded, but ran into a problem at arround 8am; no email. No email company wide. Uh oh...

Things got worse very fast. When I finally got in touch with the server farm our in California (I will not mention the name as I refuse to give them a plug), I asked them to cycle our mail server in order to get the emial back up. It was noon at this time; we hadn't had email for 4 hours now. On our publishing day. Fifteen minutes after that call, the website went down. All of them, that is...including the publishing system. No sites, no Blade. Oh shit...

Yep, they cycled the wrong server. Problem is, you can't just turn off a Cold Fusion server...oh no. That is quite bad. Long story short (too late!), we didn't have websites from 9am until 2pm. We are up now, and it is going to be very tight for me to get all the content up and running...keeping my fingers crossed.

Stupid names

2003-07-30T06:49:00.000-04:00

Have you heard this new tag, Metrosexual? Now str8 guys are being better gays then me...I need to go shopping.

Home...un-godly late/early

2003-07-30T03:26:00.000-04:00

Went to bed early...I had too, I ma having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, so now I am up at 3am. It is all due to my thyroid, which has decided to pretty much igonore it's usual instructions and just pump out thyroid juice (technical term) 24-7. It's called hyper-thyroidism, and it is the same thing the George Bush senior had, which I hope is the last fucking thing I will ever have in common with him (that is, unless, he thinks his son is an idiot as well).

I had an interesting night about a weekend ago that I can't seem to get out of my mind. My friend Jason (a.k.a., Jason Jasienowski, a.k.a. Cemetary Jason...more on him later) called me at work and insisted I go out. I have been working a lot, through most weekends, and he was pretty insistant. It went something like this:

*phone ringing*

Me: "Hello, Aram Vartian, the Washington Blade...how can I help you?"

Jason: "Heeeeeeeloo."

Me: "Hi Jay."

Jason: "You are comming out with me this weekend..."

Me: "Jay, I have a ton..."

Jason: "...and no excuses, got it? You haven't been out in a month...you are neglecting the Gay Community."

Me: "I work for the Washington Blade. I like to think that I play a rather integral role in the advancement of our community."

Jason: *ignoring me* "You are comming out with me, no arguments. We are going to a house party...you don't know them. Dress like you would if you we're going to the club. After wards we will probably be going to Colbalt."

Me: *audible groan* "Jay, you know I hate..."

Jason: *still ignoring me* "Wait a minute, strike that. Wear a nice pair of pants, a t-shirt and those black Kenneth Cole shoes your Mom bought you for your birthday...I will give you a shirt when you get here. You are going to dress like a real Fag for a change."

He had me there. I still dress like a straight guy in college, and a poor one at that.

The party was at the new SoHo Building on N street (off Thomas Circle). It is an ultra-mod building complete with funky angles and window-walls, and rows very neat apartments (I guess you have to be neat when everyone can see right into your place). The host was a nice a guy...I instantly hated his friends. Republicans, all of them. It's not that I hate republicans...but I have a visceral reaction to Gay Republicans. It seems that the second you make over 75K a year in this town, the LCR comes knocking.

Note: When I was hired at the Blade, I thought we were a little rough on the LCR. Now, reading the puff-piece in Metro Weekly about their Executive Director Patrick Guerriero, I am staring to become reacquainted with my die-hard liberal self of my childhood. I like that side of me. I think I'll hold onto that for a while.

I get a lot of flak for this, but fuck it. Gay Republicans are wrong, in the most basic sense of the word. I hear a lot of talk about "Well, you know Aram, not all Republicans hate gays...you liberals (I despise how Republicans say the word liberal, like a snake hissing, like it's bad thing...idiots) paint us in such a broad strokes."

Again, fuck that. If I join a group, I don't want anyone there to hate me. How many does it take before these self-loathing pricks see that? A dozen. A thousand? I can't belive that money could ever be that important...I hope I never do, and seeing that I am currently lacking it in any form that would allow me to do more than put a down-payment on a new mountain bike, I am secure in my liberal ideals. For now.

Work

2003-07-30T02:53:00.000-04:00

Problems: the second John (Our Cold Fusion programming and devlopment guy...well, he's a contractor with his own gig SFD, but he basiclly works for us, and the NY Press) takes a much needed 2 weeks off, everything goes to shit. Our Classifieds department lost all FTP Ability (their fault, but I still had to fix it) and all of the PDF's are comming through our new emails system corrupted.

I need this day to be over. Quickly.

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Here's an interesting article from today's NY Press. Seems like the first amendment is for sale to the highest bidder in New York.

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Okay, so the day is over...I got about half of the stuff fixed, and the other half is hopless mired in shit, so we'll see what happens tomorrow. I think I might go our this weekend, see 28 Days, or something. Everythime the weekend rolls around I feel a little tinge of loss, thinking about my old D&D group, but I get over it. I think it was worse when Shaun came to visit, but the longing was more for him then the game, surely.

I need a new group. There are problems with this of course. I need to find individuals that are A) Somewhat obsessive about the game and All Things Geek where they could bloom into more then just D&D budddies, 2) Find ones that are interesting enough that I would actually want to spend time with the in the real world, C) dosen't make me feel three-feet thick (read the fist sentance in this paragraph again, then check if you were born before 1978...if not, you won't get it).

Damn Al! I loved those guys...if it wasn't for the piece of shit DM...it is frustrating when you know a guy is a ass-hole and deserved the chewing out you gave him, and knowing full well that you too are an ass-hole, and being quite liberal so you assume everything is your fault anyway...to make a decision on a decision.

On the topic of movies: I recently saw the trailer for Jason vs. Freddy...am I the only one who really, really wants to see this? I know it will be cheesy, and possibly idiotic, and insulting, an poorly acted, perhaps a bit racist (most horror movies are) and the effects will probably be far less then par...but I cannot help but get very excited about this movie.

First

2003-07-30T02:33:00.000-04:00

Okay, I supose I should start this of by introducing myself. My name is Aram Vartian, a good Armenian name, given to me by my full-blood, 3rd genertaion Armenian father and agreed apon by my Irish-Catholic (now rather fallen away) mother. They recently moved back to the DC area and live in Crystal City; they are close enough to visit by Metro, but not so close as to be able to drop by without warning (thank God).

My little brother lives here as well, Raffi, works on the Hill for Congressman Frank Pallone(Sixth District, NJ), and lives in Alexandria. His Armenian girlfriend (Genovive...you better be taking notes on all this, there is a test later) moved to the area recently from Chicago, and lives in Roslyn.

I am horrible with descriptions, so here is a visual clue: video of Raffi and me (using my Nokia 3650 phone's video feature) waiting in line at Blockbuster. Note: you need RealOne to play this file.

The only other important person in my life would be my partner, Greg, who is currently living in Philadelphia. We have been together for a little over eight years now. I have no good photos of him for some reason (none that he would let me post here, at least).

All right, so a little about me. I am your typical child-of-ex-hippies liberal who wors as a web designer/developer for Window Media out of the Washington Blade office. The job is still fairly new (less then 6 months), and is demending a good portion of my time (read: 60 hrs./week), so this Blog is just about the only release I have had for quite a while. That, and books. I have read more in the past few weeks than I have all year. Right now, I am working on one called Snow Falling on Cedars, which was recently made into a major motion picture (never saw it). It is excedingly boring, but well very well written, so I am trying to plow through it.

Excerpt from the book, pages 23 and 24:
[ courtroom scene in a small fishing village...my comments are all in red ]

"Now," said Nels (the lawyer), "is page seven an inventory of items found onboard Carl Heines's (the dead fisherman that is the cause of this trial) boat, the Susan Marie?"

"It is."

"Could you read for the court the item listed as number twenty-seven?

"Of course," said Art Moran (the local sherrif). "Item twenty-seven. A spare D-8 battery, six-celled."

"A spare D-8 batter, six-celled," said Nels. "Thank you. A D-8. Six-celled. Would you turn now to iten forty-two, sherif? And read one more time for the court>"

"Item forty-two," replied Art Moran. "D-8 and D-6 batteries in battery well. Each six-celled."

"A 6 and an 8?" Nels said.

"Yes."

"I did some measuring down at the chandlery," (chandlery (noun): a storeroom where candles are kept...and, aparently, large batteries) said Nels. "A D-6 is wider than a D-8 by an inch. It wouldn't fit into the Susan Marie's battery well, Sherif. It was an inch too large for that."

"He'd done some on the spot refitting," Art explained. "The side flange was banged away to make room for a D-6."

"He'd banged out the side flange?"

"Yes."

"You could see this?"

"Yes."

"A metal flange had been banged aside?"

"Yes."

"Soft metal?"

And so on...

Just rivetting, isn't it? You can really feel the tension of that courtroom. There is a message somewhere burried in this about the internment of the Japanese during WW2, so my liberal sensiblities insit that I finish the book to locate this Deeper Meaning. Maybe if I stab myself in the eye I can get out of it...

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1:26 p.m.
A thought came to me that I should probably explain my Blog's name, Zareh. It is an Armenian name I chose for myself when I was 14 or 15, because it belonged to a boy I was attracted to at Camp Haiastan, and because it sounded "cooler" than my name. It was not accepted well by my parents or by those who knew me, and was eventually abandoned.

I recently looked up the name and it means "weeping or pain." That seems just about right for a typical angst-ridden teenager.
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5:21 p.m.
Okay, I may have spoken a bit too soon (as per usual). The book has become much more interesting; it seems that the author wished to use the first half of the book to paint in broad strokes, filling in the background if you will, without to many specifics. Now, as we move into details about the war, the seperation of the two main characters, the bitterness and horrid racism that was present at the time...the details are finally filling in.

I think I may just enjoy this book after all.