This is an 8 minute highlight video of Mike Wallace’s 1967 CBS Documentary ‘The Homosexuals’. The full documentary was approximately 45 minutes long and can be found here.
Submitted by Sean
Michael Alig, the quintessential party boy who reigned supreme over New York City’s gay party scene throughout the early ’90s, is due to be released from jail on May 5, according to a personal friend reporting for BlackBook.
Alig is credited with fueling the early days of the “club kid” scene and throwing some of the greatest and most historical gay events in a pre-Giuliani New York City. His life and conviction inspired the Fenton Bailey-directed movie Party Monster, which detailed the events leading up to March 17, 1996 — the day Alig murdered and dismembered the body of his drug dealer Angel Melendez in the apartment they shared.
Alig’s arrest was largely credited to Michael Musto’s unrelenting reporting for the Village Voice at the time. The investigation also led to the arrest of Peter Gatien, a legendary New York club owner who is now banned from entering the United States.
Alig has been up for parole several times since 2006, but was allegedly denied after his parole officers obtained and watched a copy of Party Monster. (FYI, for those interested, a more informational documentary about Alig’s life was released in 1998, called Party Monster: The Shocukmentary. It’s available to stream on YouTube.)
According to BlackBook writer Steve Lewis, Alig has been recruited for creative jobs and will stay with a friend once released from prison. “There is no chance that he will return to clubs as a way of life,” he says, “but he will paint and write, and as always, try to impact the way we think.” Alig has reportedly “never used a computer or cell phone, but has remained keenly aware of the world we live in.”
Furthermore, after several visits in the past few years, Lewis believes Alig has been rehabilitated:
I was for many years Michael’s friend. Like so many others, I left him behind when drugs and power created a “Party Monster.” We reconnected in recent years, and during my visits to him in prison I observed the Michael Alig that I loved—the Alig prior the downfall. I believe he is ready to enter the world, and that reentering will be a good thing. No one, no act, no time, no hatred will bring back Angel, but Michael has served a great deal of his adult life in a bad place. I believe he has been rehabilitated. I believe he is forever remorseful and I look forward to his redux. To those who say nay, I respect that, but hope chances are given, and that we can move on. It is a time to remember Angel and reflect on the meaning of life. For me, forgiveness is part of it.
Below, watch a trailer for Party Monster, the 2003 film inspired by Michael Alig’s life.
The idea that led to the invention of the computer, an idea that Alan Turing put forward in his 1936 paper ‘Computable Numbers’, did not start with a mathematical puzzle. It started with a love story, and a gay love story at that.
Alan Turing became friends with Christopher Morcom in 1928. Morcom was, in many ways, Turing’s first real peer. He was, like Turing, a mathematician and a scientist. “When they were together,” David Leavitt writes, “the boys were more likely to talk about relativity and the value of π – which Turing, in his spare time, had calculated to thirty-six decimal points – than about poetry. Despite their seemingly dry subject matter, these conversations hummed, at least for Turing, with poetic intensity.” It was an unrequited love, by all accounts, but it was no less significant for that.
Christopher Morcom changed Alan Turing. The distracted and somewhat lonely boy was no longer alone; now he had someone to look up to, and someone he wanted to impress. As a scientist, Morcom was careful. Turing, who was raw enthusiasm, unbound, was careless. Morcom taught him to be methodical, which is something his schooling had failed to do. There was a focus and a drive that had not been there before, and his schoolmasters, who had previously been dismayed at his work, were astonished by the change. As Turing later wrote, Morcom “had a great power in practical work of finding out just what was the best way of doing anything.”
In the early hours of February 7, 1930, Turing had a premonition of Morcom’s death. The abbey clock struck a quarter to three, and he looked out of the window and saw the setting moon, which he suddenly knew was a “goodbye to Morcom”. That same night Christopher Morcom was taken ill with tuberculosis, and on February 13 he died.
Turing was devastated. Yet on 16 Feb he wrote to his mother, “I feel sure that I shall meet Morcom again somewhere and that there will be some work for us to do together.” Turing’s writing about Morcom in the years following his death betrays all the hallmarks of adolescent love. “It never seems to have occurred to me to make other friends besides Morcom, he made everyone else seem so ordinary,” he wrote in a letter to Morcom’s mother. The loss fixed Morcom, and the very idea of love, in a romantic ideal; as Leavitt notes, there was no chance for this love to sour, and for reality to set in. “Perhaps as a result, he spent much of the rest of his short life seeking to replicate this great and unfulfilled love.” What is certain is that the death of his friend had a decisive effect on Turing’s creative mind, and he developed a mystical attitude toward Morcom, as well as toward death and the idea of the spirit.
In an essay titled ‘Nature of Spirit’, written in 1932 and sent to Christopher Morcom’s mother, Alan Turing started to explore the mystical ideas that had been working their way around his head in the years following Morcom’s death. “It used to be supposed in Science,” he began, “that if everything was known about the universe at any particular moment then we can predict what it will be all through the future.” The theory of relativity, and the unpredictability of atoms and electrons, had changed that. Yet what power does the will, the spirit, have over that unpredictability, he then asked, and what is the role of the body in this? “Personally I think that spirit is really eternally connected with matter but certainly not always by the same kind of body,” he concluded. “The body provides something for the spirit to look after and use.” The spirit, and the vessel that held the spirit, were to Turing’s mind separate and separable. This thinking had a profound impact on how he conceived the idea of the “universal machine”.
In ‘Computable Numbers’, the idea of a universal machine that Turing put forward separated the machine itself, i.e. the body, from the software that allowed the machine to function, i.e. the mind. It was from this revolutionary idea that the modern digital computer was born. His thinking about the nature of spirit in the wake of Morcom’s death, moreover, linked back to what he had been taught by the influential book Natural Wonders Every Child Should Know, by Edwin Tenney Brewster, which had been given to him when he was 10.
“For, of course, the body is a machine. It is a vastly complex machine, many, many times more complicated than any machine ever made with hands; but still after all a machine. It has been likened to a steam engine. But that was before we knew as much about the way it works as we do now. It really is a gas engine, like the engine of automobile, a motor boat, or a flying machine.”
After the loss for Morcom, Turing started to puzzle out the nature of mind and spirit, and its relationship with the physical machine, the body. It was this creative leap that drove his career. Questions of free will and determinism, and the extent to which the mind controls the body, are at the core of ‘Computable Numbers’.
The most complex and difficult ideas of Alan Turing, from the universal machine to artificial intelligence, which he explored when he asked “can machines think?” in his 1950 paper ‘Computing Machinery and Intelligence’, link back to this love story and its consequences. Alan Turing believed that the spirit could live on, and he proved that yes, it could. In the end, Morcom’s spirit lived on not in his body but in a wholly different form, in the work of Alan Turing.
The 24th of June in 1973, exactly 40 years ago, was a Sunday. For New Orleans’ gay community, it was the last day of national Pride Weekend, as well as the fourth anniversary of 1969′s Stonewall uprising. You couldn’t really have an open celebration of those events — in ’73, anti-gay slurs, discrimination, and even violence were still as common as sin — but the revelers had few concerns. They had their own gathering spots in the sweltering city, places where people tended to leave them be, including a second-floor bar on the corner of Iberville and Chartres Street called the UpStairs Lounge.
That Sunday, dozens of members of the Metropolitan Community Church (MCC), the nation’s first gay church, founded in Los Angeles in 1969, got together there for drinks and conversation.
Just before 8 PM, the doorbell rang insistently. To answer it, you had to unlock a steel door that opened onto a flight of stairs leading down to the ground floor. Bartender Buddy Rasmussen, expecting a taxi driver, asked his friend Luther Boggs to let the man in. Perhaps Boggs, after he pulled the door open, had just enough time to smell the Ronsonol lighter fluid that the attacker of the UpStairs Lounge had sprayed on the steps. In the next instant, he found himself in unimaginable pain as the fireball exploded, pushing upward and into the bar.
The ensuing 15 minutes were the most horrific that any of the 65 or so customers had ever endured — full of flames, smoke, panic, breaking glass, and screams.
MCC assistant pastor George “Mitch” Mitchell escaped, but soon returned to try to rescue his boyfriend, Louis Broussard. Both died in the fire, their bodies clinging together in death, like a scene from the aftermath of Pompeii.
Metal bars on the UpStairs Lounge windows, meant to keep people from falling out, were just 14 inches apart; while some managed to squeeze through and jump, others got stuck. That’s how the MCC’s pastor, Rev. Bill Larson, died, screaming, “Oh, God, no!” as the flames charred his flesh. When police and firefighters surveyed and began clearing the scene, they left Larson fused to the window frame until the next morning.
This news photo is among the most indelible:
Thirty-two people lost their lives that Sunday 40 years ago — Luther Boggs, Inez Warren, and Warren’s sons among them.
Homophobia being what it was, several families declined to claim the bodies and one church after another refused to bury or memorialize the dead. Three victims were never identified or claimed, and were interred at the local potter’s field.
When the Rev. William Richardson, of St. George’s Episcopal Church, agreed to hold a small prayer service for the victims, about 80 people attended, but many more complained about Richardson to Iveson Noland, the Episcopalian bishop of New Orleans. Noland reportedly rebuked Richardson for his kindness, and the latter received volumes of hate mail.
The UpStairs Lounge arson was the deadliest fire in New Orleans history and the largest massacre of gay people ever in the U.S. Yet it didn’t make much of an impact news-wise. The few respectable news organizations that deigned to cover the tragedy made little of the fact that the majority of the victims had been gay, while talk-radio hosts tended to take a jocular or sneering tone: What do we bury them in? Fruit jars, sniggered one, on the air, only a day after the massacre.
Other, smaller disasters resulted in City Hall press conferences or statements of condolence from the governor, but no civil authorities publicly spoke out about the fire, other than to mumble about needed improvements to the city’s fire code.
Continuing this pattern of neglect, the New Orleans police department appeared lacklustre about the investigation (the officers involved denied it). The detectives wouldn’t even acknowledge that it was an arson case, saying the cause of the fire was of “undetermined origin.” No one was ever charged with the crime.
Article by Patheos // For more information on the massacre, check out these sources:
The modern revivers of the cult of an ancient Roman gay god have claimed that Egyptian authorities are ignoring widespread looting of the Egyptian city named for him. The Roman emperor Hadrian declared his male lover Antinous a god in the year 130, after he fell into the river Nile and drowned at the age of 19. Hadrian founded the city Antinoopolis in Egypt nearby the site of his lover’s death and established annual games in his memory.
Hadrian also named a star after him which was said to have appeared after his death. Temples for Antinous were established all over the Roman Empire during Hadrian’s reign but were torn down by Christians after the cult was outlawed by the Christian Emperor Theodosius. Many of the surviving statues of Antinous ended up in the Vatican Museum where they were seen by the artist Raphael who adopted him as a model for male perfection in painting angels.
The cult of Antinous was revived in 2002 and its followers now say that the ruins of Antinoopolis have been left to looters while officials turn a blind eye. “Nobody cares because Antinous is the god of gays, and they are embarrassed to mention that fact,” said Antonyus Subia, head priest of the Hollywood Temple of Antinous. “Even the few news articles which have appeared about the destruction of Antinoopolis fail to mention Antinous at all.”
Subia said that the ruins of Antinoopolis were being systematically looted by tomb robbers and blamed poor law enforcement by the new Egyptian Government. “This is our gay heritage which is being destroyed,” he said.
One of the world’s earliest carvings conveying human sexuality shows bisexuality was normal, even over 3,000 years ago The Kangjiashimenji Petroglyphs, rock carvings found in a remote region in northwest China, show a fertility ritual.
Archaeologist Wang Binghua discovered the symbols in the late 1980s, but little has been written about them. In a new report from Mary Mycio, the carvings show 100 figures which abstractly depicts different ways of expressing sexuality.
While carvings have been found dating back over 20,000 years, these petroglyphs are probably the most explicit and intricate. Mycio writes: ‘The few scholars who have studied the petroglyphs think that the larger-than-life hourglass figures that begin the tableau symbolize females. They have stylized triangular torsos, shapely hips and legs, and they wear conical headdresses with wispy decorations. ‘Male images are smaller triangles with stick legs and bare heads. Ithyphallic is archeology-talk for “erect penis,” and nearly all of the males have one. ‘A third set of figures appear to be bisexual. Combining elements of males and females, they are ithyphallic but wear female headwear, a decoration on the chest, and sometimes a mask. They might be shamans. Read on…
At least 100,000 gay men were arrested during the Nazi regime, with thousands sent to concentration camps like Dachau, Auschwitz and Sachsenhausen. And many of those who ended up in these camps were even sent to prison after the war for being gay by the American and British occupation forces after the camps were freed.
Now a new exhibit is trying to share their tragic story. “Nazi Persecution of Homosexuals, 1933-1945,” at Lake Worth, Florida’s Compass Gay and Lesbian Center through January 25, was originally created by the US Holocaust Museum some years back. But with barbaric anti-gay legislation cropping up in various corners of the globe, it’s as relevant as ever.
“Few people recognize the role laws, specifically Paragraph 175, had in justifying the dehumanization and murder of thousands of homosexuals during the Holocaust” says Compass Center CEO Tony Plakas. “There are historic lessons to be learned for sure, but there are present-day applications too: Political currents aimed at denying gays and lesbians employment protections, hate-crime legislation, and the denial of equal recognition of marriage illustrate how legislation and law-enforcement can be used to forward harmful political and social agendas.”
Filled with hundreds of archival photos, the exhibit traces the history of persecution from Weimar Era Germany, when gay people could live somewhat freely, to the height of the Third Reich, when they were exterminated alongside millions of Jews and other “undesirables.”
When the Nazis first took over, homosexuals were deemed “sick” and forced into a brutal version of conversion therapy. “It had nothing to do with morality or religion,” says the Holocaust Museum’s Ted Phillips, who created the exhibit a number of years ago. “[Gay men] were a brake on the growth of the German Aryan population. So the emphasis was to re-educate them to be productive dads. And if they contacted another male, they were spreading the contagion.”
The policy didn’t address lesbianism, explains Phillips. “Women were not very important in society—mainly as wives and mothers to support men,” he says. “The policy denied women’s sexuality and personhood.”
The another section, “Radicalization,” addresses the virulent persecution that came in the run-up to WWII. Expanding the scope of Paragraph 175, the section of the penal code that addressed homosexuality, the Nazis started staging raids on gay clubs and shutting down queer newspapers. Even the suspicion of homosexuality was enough to get you arrested, and more than 50,000 gay men were sent to prison.
Because so many records were destroyed, it’s hard to say exactly how many gay men were sent to concentration camps—the best estimates are between 5,000 and 15,000. Once there, they were made to wear pink triangles and placed in forced-labor gangs with hardened criminals.
According to press notes, some men were castrated, brutalized or marked for “extermination through work.” At a granite quarry, gays from the Mauthausen camp were often chosen to plant explosive charges, and the Nazis enjoyed setting off the charges before they escaped. At the Flossenburg camp, a commandant gave gay inmates extra-large pink triangles. “He liked them for target practice,” Phillips says.
Phillips says he hopes the exhibit shows visitors how any group can be targeted: “It shows how easy it is to erode public opinion of a minority, make them outcasts and create the indifference that allows persecution.”
Article by Queerty
The portrait below isn’t just any old vintage picture. Recently sold at auction as a painting of “a woman in a feathered hat,” it’s actually thought to be the first known formal portrait of a transvestite, the spy Chevalier d’Eon. The subject of this portrait is definitely a man, even though he lived the latter part of his life as a woman. And did I mention he was a spy, too? No really, kids, let’s find out more about the Chevalier d’Eon.
First of all, no, this is not actually related to the manga or anime series Le Chavealier D’Eon, which was about a knight in service of King Louis XV looking for clues about the death of his sister. The real Chevalier was a man who spent the first 49 years of his life as a man and the last 33 as a woman. Though the choice may not have been entirely d’Eon’s own personal preference. In 1763, after being appointed to Le Secret du Roi, the secret network of spies who worked for King Louis XV (the same from the anime/manga), he was named Plenipotentiary Minister to London. However, someone was gunning to replace him, and d’Eon ended up demoted to secretary. He then got into a bit of a tussle with his replacement, accusing the man of trying to murder him and then, later, holding on to some private security documents to blackmail the king. By some accounts, he was sent to prison for this and escaped from France to England, where he lived out the rest of his life as a woman, cross-dressing to protect his identity.
But he was so persuasive as a woman (and also flat-out refused to admit his gender when asked) that people took bets on what gender he was, and when he died in 1810, only an autopsy confirmed that he was a man. The people who knew d’Eon for the last three decades of his life had no idea, including his own housekeeper (who went into a “state of shock” following the discovery). Apparently, the French government, knowing that d’Eon had a ton of secret information that could really blow their cover (including plans to invade England), let d’Eon off the hook and allowed him to live out the rest of his life as a different person as a way to thank him for not spilling all their state secrets. They also went ahead and paid all his debts, like he requested, just to ensure their spot would not be blown the heck up.
The painting itself had experts scratching their heads. Originally thought to be of a woman, once restoration began, some distinctly male features started revealing themselves on this handsome woman in the fancy hat. Like stubble, for one thing, and the muscular nature of the facial structure. Art dealer and historian Philip Mould made it his mission to figure out the identity of this portrait’s subject, and when he finally did, he knew this was a special find:
“It’s a combination of mirth and respect for a man who was bold enough, brave enough, but also extrovert enough to state his case.”
To this day, the “Patron Saint of Transvestites” still inspires those who choose to dress in the clothing of the opposite gender; the term “eonism” means the male adoption of female dress. And so goes the story of the former French spy who dressed as a woman before any had ever really heard of such a thing as a lifestyle (outside the theatre, anyway). [via Mary Sue & Discovery News]