Tag Archives: Kiki Valentine

The Best Valentine

On Valentine’s Day, “Miriam” gets a hand and a smile exiting the bus that brought her home after living in shelter for over three months.

Having a moniker like “Kiki Valentine” makes every February 14th especially poignant since it’s the day that best represents – despite its deeply-based roots in what I like to call “Catholic gore” – love and all that it means. This year, I have the gift of reflecting on the wedding ceremonies I wrote and officiated, the bringing together of two lives in a sense and ceremony of traditional love. I’m so glad I have had those experiences. What can I say? I love love.

Another great personal love story is the sordid tale of a population of just over 100 elderly and disabled Hurricane Sandy evacuees from Belle Harbor Manor in Far Rockaway, Queens whom I met while volunteering at the Park Slope Armory’s temporary medical shelter last October. The first overnight I volunteered, I planned on being there for four hours but instead I stayed until eight the following morning. I just couldn’t leave if I knew I could help a few more people; most volunteers would leave each night after midnight, leaving a true skeleton crew to assist, walking the rows, flashlight in hand, to see if anyone was awake and had any needs. In the days that followed, I spent hours in the dark sorting, organizing and distributing clothing donations. That was a really great way to connect with people, they would come up to the fenced-in area, tell me what they needed, and I was, basically, a “personal shopper” for them, since I knew best what colors and sizes were available. I cut the fingernails of patients (because the nurses weren’t allowed to). In fact, out of all of the supplies and medical support in the shelter, there were no nail clippers anywhere. During the Nor’Easter following Sandy, I set out in the snowstorm to find some. The man whose nails I cut that night, Eddie, is a resident of Belle Harbor Manor and it turned out we have a mutual friend in common from the ‘old neighborhood”, Red Hook.

During the course of November, I bought so many pairs of mens and womens underwear I lost count. I spent overnights armed with latex gloves and a flashlight sorting donations and taking blind people to the bathroom in the dark, amazed that my usually fragile sense of smell had somehow strengthened to be able to keep on going. Only one night did someone’s “accident” cause me to uncontrollably gag, and that was when I was reminded of how amazing nurses are. I learned about the magnificent glory of “chucks”, which are basically giant blue absorbent pads placed onto wheelchairs in the event adult diapers leaked. There were a lot of pathogens involved with volunteering, and odors – especially when the shelter was operating at full capacity with 500 patients. Since the Armory is a gymnasium, all of the cots were arranged within the indoor track, so my slapstick wheeling of patients along the track allowed for some comic relief. Later I moved, in the rain, with residents from shelter to shelter, transporting them with Zipcars, in times of need, and staying with them past visiting hours if they asked me to. I fed them, clothed them, secretly brought them donuts and coffee and have spent countless hours on the phone with the OEM, Department of Health and FEMA on their behalf,sometimes speaking high school Spanish, or attempting, as I needed so desperately at times, to channel the ability to speak Chinese to help them file their claims (it didn’t happen). I made a lot of calls to friends in very high (and very low) places to lend a hand, and as a result small amenities like a daily newspaper delivery ended up changing a lot of people’s lives. Throughout, I have been forced to consider the way that we, as Americans – and as New Yorkers – treat our aging population. And during my journey what I discovered incensed me.

ICL Milestone at Creedmor Psychiatric Campus, Queens, NY

ICL Milestone at Creedmor Psychiatric Campus, Queens, NY. Looks spooky, because it is spooky.

After the first three weeks, when 350 other residents were discharged from the Armory, I knew that I was making an invisible commitment to make sure they were “okay”. Little did I know they would need a lot more help then I or anyone could ever imagine. After the first six weeks, they had lived in three separate shelters which, each time, meant that several garbage bags full of belongings (donations obtained from myself and others) would be lost. Seven weeks after the storm they were still sleeping on “Army cots”, and a ramshackle team of volunteers, advocates, and caring humans did all they could, called everyone they knew might be able to help, and change eventually started to occur. A check from the Attorney General was signed, beds were delivered (just in time for a quasi-outbreak of bedbugs).

On the heels of the shooting back home in Sandy Hook and a truly cheerless holiday, on Christmas Day I decided to advocate full time for Belle Harbor Manor’s residents, and, for the past 106 days of our lives, I have been part of one of the greatest love stories I have ever known. Full of hope, optimism, and scandal – as any good love story is – in the end, after all of the dead ends that I somehow bulldozed through, after getting lost in Queens in the dark and the drives home in tears calling anyone I could think of who might help (thank you Allen Salkin), I have to laugh about the fact that I was not once but twice kicked out of the psychiatric hospital residents were sheltered in.

The first day residents were transferred to the Creedmor Psychiatric Campus, I was told that I had to be credentialed and complete a background check in order to be on the property, of which I attempted to initiate while stalling on the phone with ICL Senior management. I didn’t want to lose access to them in this institution. It was more ike a prison than a hospital, and it felt like there was much dark energy throughout. The VP of Bologna eventually told me, with security standing over me trying to get me out, that she couldn’t do anything about the site administrator’s decision. Leaving there that day, I asked the receptionist for a pen, to which she began reaching for each pen on the counter to move it from my reach. Sadistic, sociopathic. I didn’t want to imagine how these residents would be treated. For the first time in my life I uttered the words, “You don’t know who you’re fucking with” and think I lived up to it.

I also somehow narrowly escaped the risk of contracting both bed bugs and scabies, two events which sent other volunteers directly to the pharmacist and into an alarmed spin that included some medication, a lotion, that you slather on and sleep in. The point of this rather unpoetic stream of consciousness is that these residents, in all of their shining diversity, have made me reevaluate who I am as a person and what my purpose as a human in this life at this time really means. They have encouraged me to think outside the box, ignore stereotypes, exercise patience, to not fear mental illness, to overcome a weak sense of smell, to continue to stand up for what is right, to keep on asking questions, to be a better cold caller, to overcome insurmountable obstacles (any dealings with politicians excluded) and challenges, to connect with other like-minded people who also really care about others, and to develop a sense of strength I had long forgotten that the seed of was within me. All of this motivation and impetus wasn’t always direct or painless, and it certainly was not planned. After the overwhelming experience of being in the Park Slope Armory that first night, I kept going back. I could not leave these suffering strangers. Besides, I didn’t have electricity or heat at home, we had an eight-foot storm surge. People – especially my family – have asked why I had gotten myself so involved, and I didn’t have an answer; I simply followed my heart.

It was anguishing to know that this aging and disabled population, most with no family or support, were left to suffer and be the pawns in a struggle between the City of New York and the State of New York’s Department of Health, and that they were paying upwards of $1900 in rent each month to live on the campus of a remote psychiatric hospital in Queens. I often found myself wondering,”If not for us, who will help them?” Certainly not the long list of “burned out” professional case workers I encountered, fighting their own fights against what was right (humanism) vs. what they were being told to do (red tape). There was anger and strife throughout, for the residents, for the volunteers, for the staff, for the journalists. And yet from all of this, compassion, friendship and love were born. To me, the strange but beautiful part of the story is that of all the shelters residents found themselves in, if given the choice to return to the setting the Armory provided, every single one of them says they would rather be there than, shockingly, back home at Belle Harbor Manor.

There are so many people I wish to thank, and I will attempt to do so in the event they are, like me, set up with Google Alerts for themselves. In the meantime, I plan on writing more about this. The harsh reality is that my relationship to these people isn’t over once they return home. They still have needs. Many are the victims of looting. Their belongings and cash, thought to be safely locked, needing replacement. Social security cards, passports, green cards, and more. I am set to look at the long-term disaster relief and planning required for others like them. I will again need to make those calls and send email to others who might be able to help me be of better service to others. For now, however, I will sleep tonight, relieved for the first time in 107 days. This what love looks like to me this Valentine’s Day. Home. I have tears in my eyes just thinking about how many people have touched my life since this storm washed away all of my fear. Thank you.

“If your name is Kiki then I’m changing my name to ‘Voodoo'”, she said. And from then it was clear that despite our differences, we would be friends. Today was our goodbye to shelter #3, Creedmor (although she did like the free use of computers, stating, “There is so much information on the Internet! I need to get a computer of my own!”

To my left, Tom Fortune, who, while at the Armory on my overnight rounds, never asked me for anything. I went on this wild portable radio shopping obsession because I felt it was critical that while in shelter, people should be able listen to the news, or most importantly, to music, to feel connected with what we would later refer to as “the outside”. When I brought the radio to him, he in his wheelchair on the four lane track amongst a population of 500, he said “Give it to someone who needs it.” I replied, “But I got this for you.” Here we are 106 days later and he says, “Of course we’ll stay in touch. I’ll call you every time my radio runs out of batteries.” To my right, the sweet and caring Donna Rubin.

After the donation sorting and organizing at The Armory (an enormous undertaking every night), the library at Milestone Residence at Creedmor Psychiatric Hospital is transformed into a donation center. Now, the shelves are bare and belonging, transported in black garbage bags similar to those the residents were living out of, have returned “home”.

When I received this card and opened it, I felt that the hours of sacrifice and hard work were somehow able to culminate into this one simple and unexpected thank you. Just touching to the 1,000,000th degree.

THANK YOU (in no order and I am hoping I haven’t forgotten any/many):

The residents and staff of Belle Harbor Manor
RI-1 DMAT
Ali Hodin-Baier, Aging in New York Fund
Amy Parsons, The American Red Cross (and now, a friend)
Jake from the Washington Conservation Corps
Caron Atlas http://www.artsanddemocracy.org
AmeriCorps team members
The Amory volunteers
The Kings Hotel volunteers
The Creedmor volunteers
Casey Shea
Nicholas Verburgt (Express Men’s sock donations)
Maria Provenzano and the CenterLight staff at Kings Hotel
Amy Glosser, CERT & online volunteer infrastructure developer
Meryl Blackman
Justin the FEMA inspector
David Caruso, The Associated Press
Doug Kuntz (do gooder, photographer, rabble rouser)
Brett Cotter http://www.stressbegone.org
Laura Black, NYC OEM
JK Canepa, CIAD
Geoff Lieberman, CIAD
Amanda Bickerstaff, UWS Loves
Suzanne Windland, SNAP & all that she has done and continues to do!
Christina Komploris, NY Post/WSJ donations
Richard Shults Jr., NY Post/WSJ donations
Andy McCallihan, NY Post/WSJ donations
Jill Cornell, donations and all of her work in the Rockaways
JC Hopkins, volunteer and transportation!
Pam Koner, mobile phones for residents
Jerry Probst, FEMA inspector and encouraging, awesome soul
Felice Steele, The American Red Cross (and also a diligent do-gooder!)
Maureen Italiano, ICL Milestone staffer who challenged me
Larissa, ICL Milestone staffer who really cares about people
Brad Lander, City Councilman & Staff
Joseph Ger Ph.D, BCBA-D
Brad Harrelson, The American Red Cross, Texas (helped connect family members)
Nannearl Blackshear, Brooklyn Borough President’s Office
Lynda Lowe, FEMA
Peggy Mott, FEMA
Krystal Reyes
Oswald Ramsammy, NY Times donations
Justin Silverman, connections to newspaper donations
Christine Kessler (helped us find a lost resident)
Marina Tsamplina, NY Helps NY
Megan Byrn
Parker Tracey and Dave Escovitz at Char No. 4 who covered shifts for me so I could help
AND TO EVERYONE who donated!
Dave Ankers
Dennis and Jeni Espantman
Lael @ FIND Home Furnishings, Brooklyn
Duben Canales & Jasmine Heikura
Keara Driscoll
Maria Esther Hammck
William Groner
Kristina Kroger
Selma Kalousek
Beezlebabe Siren
Margaret Welch
Karen Cowdell
Annie Chambliss
Jay Christensen
Simon Durkin
Farzin Lofti-Jam

Farming in Brooklyn Part One: Community Outreach with Cornell University

Red Hook Brooklyn's Added Value Farm Is Open For 2011 Season

Thursday, July 7th 2011 – Brooklyn, NY – Last Saturday I spent my first weekend of the season with Linda Marie Ameroso and Cornell University’s Cooperative Extension focusing on community outreach for Red Hook’s CSA, a supportive arm of Added Value. My involvement with Added Value began early in 2010 as a CSA member, buying in and getting a half share in 2010 (locally grown and sourced organic produce, herbs, eggs and fruit). Last fall, I was approached by the CSA core group to with the hopes of bolstering their community outreach. Added Value Farm fills CSA orders and provides nutritious foods to families in the 11231 zip code. The CSA Core Group consists of about a half a dozen people, each with a specific role who executes all of the needs of the CSA while interacting with and reporting directly to Added Value’s Ian Marvy and Kristen Shafenacker.

Our learning station, overseen by Brooklyn Food Coalition‘s David Buckel and Cornell University provides information about our “Vegetable of the Week” (available for purchase and locally grown), nutrition, diet, how to properly wash and prepare fruit and vegetables to avoid bacterial contamination, portions, steps to take to reduce sodium and easy recipes – in English and Spanish – featuring the vegetable of the week.

The Learning Station sign with market and CSA in background.

Learning station set up and ready for "Red Hook Walks The Talk" walking tours to stop by. Beyond the green beds, IKEA is visible in the background.

My favorite motto: “Make half of your plate plants!”

www.choosemyplate.gov

Do you want to save money – and be sure your food is safe – with your own homemade veggie wash spray? Get a spare spray bottle with a mix of 3 parts water, 1 part vinegar, 1 part lemon juice and a bit of salt or baking soda.  Then include a spritz when following the directions below.  Please note: it is not good to cut vegetable stems and then soak them in water as bacteria can travel into the vegetable and contaminate it from within.  A bowl of cold water and the repeated “dip” is a great way to be sure gravel on spinach and other greens doesn’t make it to your dinner plate.

Simple instructions. For example, cantaloupe needs a good scrub as it is typically houses bacteria on its skin. When you cut it and it isn't scrubbed, the knife "drags" the bacteria through the flesh of the fruit. A vegetable brush can be purchased anywhere from Crate & Barrel to a dollar store. To clean it when it gets funky, soak in a bleach and water solution. You can also do this when your sponge starts to smell or for dishes with tough stains.

My first veggie of the week: Bok Choy!

Also called Chinese cabbage, bok choy is an excellent source of calcium.

And with Added Value, which also provides vital work opportunities for teens including the green jobs of tomorrow (they learn about growing food, recycling, greenhouses and organic composting systems), I hope to make an impact in 2011 and build relationships with our healthy counterparts, as different from me as they may be, to strengthen our community’s health, diversity, sustainability, communication and education.

Why? According to the National Poverty Center and a 2008 University of Michigan’s findings, 19% of American youth lives in poverty (or 14.1 million individuals). The population of Red Hook is 11,000.  A large number – 8,000 –  live in the Red Hook houses (East and West combined).  The average annual salary for this population is $15,200.  According to the American Community Survey, “the 2009 nationwide poverty rate was 14.3 percent, up from 13.2 percent, and that was the second statistically-significant annual increase since 2004”.  With 44 million people living in poverty, that’s about one in every seven Americans.  According to Sam Roberts, urban affairs correspondent for The New York Times, “the official poverty definition is an income of $10,800 for a single adult, or $22,000 for a family of four.  In New York City the threshold for two adults and two children is $21,000.” He continues, “One of the interesting things about the poverty rate in New York City is if it had not been for food stamps, probably another 250 thousand New Yorkers would have been officially in poverty in 2009.”

And our challenge in 2011: how to get information “into” the Red Hook Houses to educate and inform its 8,000 residents about healthier eating, diet related disease and illness prevention and encourage them to shop at the farm market.  And if eligible, use SNAP, EBT and Food Stamp benefits to purchase good, affordable food locally.  Added Value’s Ian Marvy has said, “It’s driving home the idea of fresher food for less money, right down the block.”  Both the farm and CSA (although closed to new members until 2012) both accept food stamp benefits.  Interested parties should refer to www.snaptomarket.com and search by zip code to find nearby farm markets in their community that currently accept benefits.

For me, all of my notes taken and research begins here, as we see on July 2nd when our group engaged two community members who – animated as they are – are on the right track to good health and wellness.  What you’ll also see is an up-close-and-personal glimpse into the Learning Station’s goals in action.  Also, if you’re over the age of 51 or have anyone in your family with diabetes, hypertension, high blood pressure or kidney disease, please be sure to share this video with them.  Besides, the women are hilarious and worth watching.  (Notably,”I ain’t dying.”)

A mother entertains her son with bubbles at the Children's Station. A scavenger hunt is also available for kids, with the prize being a lovely plant to take home and watch grow.

He caught me taking his picture.

Sylvie and Michael Shannon enjoy the Children's Station and do some drawing.

A patron of the farm market stocks up on locally sourced, organic produce and looks to be contemplating her next ingredient.

A community member weeds the vegetable beds at Red Hook, Brooklyn's Added Value Farm.

Visit the farm (map and location here) by taking the free IKEA ferry from Pier 17 in Manhattan.  Since IKEA is across the street from the farm, you can follow any of these directions to get there.  The farm is open from 9am to 4pm on Saturdays.  Compost welcome! I’ll be there on Saturday, July 9th from 9am until 1pm or so.  And the vegetable of the week: celery! Learn how to skillfully remove the string and pick up some produce for your own culinary experiments.  And remember, enjoy your food!

Kiki On Casey Anthony (On Associated Content)

Casey Anthony Wins My Heart - I don't have any friends who can rock the flag like this.

My two cents, international-style.

I knew watching all of that justice porn would pay off.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/8208989/quote_round_up_facebook_reacts_to_casey.html?cat=17

Special thanks to Bryan Lauas of Everbrite Mercantile Company for referring to my insatiable penchant for proceedings and coining the term “justice porn”.

Casey Anthony is relieved after being acquitted on the felony counts - and her life spared - in an Orlando, Florida courtroom on July 5th, 2011.

World Premiere Video: Art Brut’s “Lost Weekend” & A Boyfriend Story

Kiki Valentine by Guy Eppel

There was a time in my life when I transitioned from being a ball of fire on the loose and hurdling through Greenwich Village to a ball of fire with more of a sense of belonging due to the opportunities I took or created for myself.   I’m in the midst of a new kind of transition now, and it is forcing me to reflect back on those times when I was more of a projectile.  Back then I also realized that toxic relationships, no matter how intense the passion is that draws two particular ill-suited people together, are just not worth it.  This goes for friends, lovers, family, bank tellers, doctors, neighbors and anyone else you regularly interact with.  It’s great to learn these things on the first go (usually in our 20s) and remember them; somehow these “tests” of our maturity and evolution seem to continue, according to my living grandmother, at least into our 90s.

I had a boyfriend during this time who worked in advertising and had a penchant for late nights out drinking and partaking in what we New Yorkers refer to as “booger sugar”.  Needless to say, my patience regarding our “lifestyle differences” wore incredibly thin toward the end of our three-plus year on again, off again relationship.  The final straw was him phoning a prostitute from the Yellow Pages one night with friends after a bachelor party.  This brings up two interesting notions, one that in New York City you can order a hooker much like ordering a Dominos pizza even though it is illegal (the girl not the pie), and two, that a person would typically think the bachelor party itself is what a girlfriend has to worry about.  Not the case.  Unless we’re talking about a very wealthy and generous best man or a bachelor party of creeps, most Joe Schmoe stags almost never end with anyone but the groom getting some sort of special attention, although for some especially brazen douchebags, the otherwise innocent excitement of the groom’s “last night out” only fuels their bad decision making after the party bus is in park and the good little boys have turned in for the night. (How I came to find out about this incident includes a dream that morning of my deceased grandmother screaming at me in Italian about him, but that’s another story for another time.)

To his credit, said bad boyfriend – and although a bad partner he is not a bad person, just not the person for wonderful me – supported my, at that time, burgeoning transition from producer to performer and the explorations in combating my crippling stage fright which ensued.   While his spiritual epiphany included LCD Soundsystem, CB2, the Chicago Cubs and “deliverables”, mine were more public, visual and artistic.  I had organically evolved from years of being a writer to being a producer, and was blindly careening into uncharted territory that I was terrified of, but very good at.  I can’t say that he understood the gravity of what I was doing,  and he definitely didn’t talk to me in “artist speak” about any of it.  He had no feedback and just went along with my stream of consciousness much like a dead fish but with more smiles and nods.  The more I evolved, the less I could tolerate our increasingly banal discussions, and a constant argument was that he was “creative” in his field but not an “artist” and this was a fundamental difference that was unable to be resolved.  However that misplaced passion between us didn’t allow for this rational understanding of our incompatibility to prevail, and instead of ending it, he instead consistently failed to measure up to my level of standard and passion as well as making the most of out this life, exploring one’s Self, taking healthy risks, following through on one’s word and not staying out Friday night until 11am Saturday partying with other people in advertising when we had a bike ride scheduled for noon…all very predictable and boring.  But I do give him credit for being incredibly patient with me, too.

When I first became a character every day with Alice Cooper on his radio show, “Mistress Kitty” the celebrity dominatrix who wanted to be taken seriously as a broadcast journalist, there were times when she would pretty basically leak out unexpectedly.  And no, not in the bedroom, more like while cooking dinner; a lacerating wit from over the counter, crossing a street, passing the butter.  In time I learned how to effortlessly step into and out of that character without her taking over my life or getting me arrested, and it was during these years Alice really taught me the difference between character and persona.  Not many people can coach you on persona like the King of Shock Rock.  I am so grateful, and I am sure that most of the people I know and love are thrilled that I’m not wielding a riding crop at brunch in 2011.

Eventually, bad boyfriend started ribbing me about the publicity I was getting.   I learned from him that unabridged sarcasm is often a defense mechanism and protects people from actually opening up (this was also predictable and boring).  But people liked my work, and better yet, they liked talking about it.  I was finally getting some of the feedback I was so hungry for outside of Kitty fan mail from those who were incarcerated or driving a rig and listening to the show.  So I developed a routine (which I still do) of coming home and seeing what is new out there in the world reflecting what I am putting all of this heart into.  Eventually the “what are you doing, looking up pictures of yourself on the Internet again?” got more and more frequent.  More and more snarky.  And I came to realize that what this person was doing was destructive to who I am and my purpose on this planet.  He was making me feel badly about what I do as – even today – an undefined artist.  It isn’t easy or safe to try new things and challenge oneself, but if a person is so inclined, New York City is probably one of the only places where the magic of chance and opportunity still breeds; where you can fail miserably and think about leaping off the Brooklyn Bridge one day and get on a subway and meet your soul mate the next.  It is crucial that we surround ourselves with those who share a vision and values about “live and let live”, who totally believe in what we are doing with our lives and who appreciate the way that our lives complement the lives of those around us like a giant jigsaw puzzle.  Even though two corners are extremely opposite, they are still connected by all of the pieces in between them.

All I can say is that I am happy to report bad boyfriend has been in a relationship for a while now (and for the record I think it’s fine not to be friends with all of our exes) and more importantly that I was absolutely thrilled to come home tonight and check out the world premiere of the Art Brut video director Alex De Campi asked me to be without some guy giving me a hard time about looking myself up on the Internet.  It could be due to my upcoming birthday and that I have been reflecting on the path I took to get where I am today, how lucky I am to still be up and running around and taking calculated risks when and where I can, avoiding toxicity when and where I can and that I am so grateful for realizing the precious value of my uniqueness and abilities before I let another “Eeyore” take a leak in my Cheerios.

THE VIDEO

Every person on this video shoot was an important part of the puzzle Alex De Campi saw in her vision of the piece.  And I am so thrilled to be in a music video with a unicorn!  The nine-year-old girl who lives inside of me is beaming.  But most importantly, to those of you who believe in me and my work, in all of its uncategorized glory, thank you.  I think it is law that “you’re only as good as the people you work with”, and I hope my next year of existence brings even more electric collaborations and captivating experiences.

http://pitchfork.com/tv/#/music-videos/1650-art-brut/2639-lost-weekend/

ARCHIVED: A Happening For…You

Tsunami.

Bus Accident.

War.

Hunger.

Poverty.

Good, now that that’s out of the way, let’s have some fun! “The MENSA of variety shows” is back.  This will be quite a happening and we all hope you will attend to share in the magic combination of complimentary absinthe, comedy and more dangerous movement than plate tectonics can shake a continent at.  Yes, there will be a hula hooper, a wonderful human with wild hair, a Goddess, a madam, a trumpet, a bass and surprise performances that promise to thrill and delight.

Featuring the music of Chet Baker, Julie London, Tom Waits, Rilo Kiley and original live music and language arts by Reggie Watts.  Attendance prizes will be drawn.  And no, we weren’t kidding about the complimentary absinthe.  It’s local, artisinal, small batch and made with home grown ingredients.  And it’s appropriately called “Meadow of Love”.

Entry for the evening is $11 and supports the participating performers.  Bios and further information about our cast can be found here.

Join us in the "Meadow of Love" on Sunday, March 27th at Ella. Doors at 8:30pm

Editing History Through Censorship In The New Year

CENSORSHIP IN 2011!

Upon residing in Gotham for as long as I have, I am exposed to “the N word” on a daily basis.  And no, I’m not talking about “neurotic”.  The flurry of media attention regarding one educator’s mission to publish a revised version of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, replacing the word “nigger” with “slave”, has me concerned about the overall integrity of our culture.  As a Caucasian, that word has always been at the root of many a controversy during intellectual albeit heated conversations among my peers.  Personally, it does not exist in my own vocabulary.  But following the lead of Mr. Alan Gribben, the champion of this new and censored publishing of the applauded literary masterpiece, why stop there?

Wouldn’t it be great if we could “edit” the word “nigger” from the subways, bus stops, bodegas, streets, sidewalks, popular music and overall vernacular of our urban communities? Or how about just walking around with a big, Fascist bar of Ivory soap for the mouths of those who use it? I can’t believe the whitewashing of history I am witnessing. This editing, to me, is a dangerous revision of American history and a smite to to the written words of an author who is not alive to defend his work.

Thankfully, I was able to locate one witty quote on censorship from Twain in a letter from 1902 to the Denver Post regarding the banning of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the Denver Library.  It was also published in the NY Tribune one week later:

“There’s nobody for me to attack in this matter even with soft and gentle ridicule–and I shouldn’t ever think of using a grown up weapon in this kind of a nursery. Above all, I couldn’t venture to attack the clergymen whom you mention, for I have their habits and live in the same glass house which they are occupying. I am always reading immoral books on the sly, and then selfishly trying to prevent other people from having the same wicked good time.”

The best example of intelligent discussion of use of this word, to me, can be found from the mouth of comedian Lenny Bruce.  In the 1974 film Lenny, Dustin Hoffman recites Bruce’s speech on the subject, verbatim.  The controversial Bruce was first arrested for obscenity in 1961 after a performance at the Jazz Workshop in San Francisco after using the word “cocksucker”.

Regularly the victim of censorship and being banned –  despite our First Amendment right to free speech –  in April of 1964 he appeared twice at the Cafe Au Go Go in Greenwich Village, New York.  Undercover detectives were present in the audience, and Bruce was twice arrested immediately after leaving the stage with complaints again resting on his use of various “obscenities”.  The good news is that on December 23, 2003, and 37 years after his death, Governor George Pataki, in “a declaration of New York’s commitment to upholding the First Amendment”, granted a posthumous pardon to Lenny Bruce.  It was a landmark decision, and the first in New York history.

Here is Dustin Hoffman appearing as Bruce in the film (unfortunately embedding of the video has been disabled, but I encourage the reader to click the link here and to comment on this blog post below): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOnkv76rNL4

And for those unaware of details of the current editing of the novel, here is the article in full:

MONTGOMERY, Ala. — Mark Twain wrote that “the difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter.” A new edition of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and “Tom Sawyer” will try to find out if that holds true by replacing the N-word with “slave” in an effort not to offend readers.

Twain scholar Alan Gribben, who is working with NewSouth Books in Alabama to publish a combined volume of the books, said the N-word appears 219 times in “Huck Finn” and four times in “Tom Sawyer.” He said the word puts the books in danger of joining the list of literary classics that Twain once humorously defined as those “which people praise and don’t read.”

“It’s such a shame that one word should be a barrier between a marvelous reading experience and a lot of readers,” Gribben said.

Yet Twain was particular about his words. His letter in 1888 about the right word and the almost right one was “the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”

The book isn’t scheduled to be published until February, at a mere 7,500 copies, but Gribben has already received a flood of hateful e-mail accusing him of desecrating the novels. He said the e-mails prove the word makes people uncomfortable.

“Not one of them mentions the word. They dance around it,” he said.

Another Twain scholar, professor Stephen Railton at the University of Virginia, said Gribben was well respected, but called the new version “a terrible idea.”

The language depicts America’s past, Railton said, and the revised book was not being true to the period in which Twain was writing. Railton has an unaltered version of “Huck Finn” coming out later this year that includes context for schools to explore racism and slavery in the book.

“If we can’t do that in the classroom, we can’t do that anywhere,” he said.

He said Gribben was not the first to alter “Huck Finn.” John Wallace, a teacher at the Mark Twain Intermediate School in northern Virginia, published a version of “Huck Finn” about 20 years ago that used “slave” rather than the N-word.

“His book had no traction,” Railton said.

Gribben, a 69-year-old English professor at Auburn University Montgomery, said he would have opposed the change for much of his career, but he began using “slave” during public readings and found audiences more accepting.

He decided to pursue the revised edition after middle school and high school teachers lamented they could no longer assign the books.

Some parents and students have called for the removal of “Huck Finn” from reading lists for more than a half century. In 1957, the New York City Board of Education removed the book from the approved textbook lists of elementary and junior high schools, but it could be taught in high school and bought for school libraries.

In 1998, parents in Tempe, Ariz., sued the local high school over the book’s inclusion on a required reading list. The case went as far as a federal appeals court; the parents lost.

Published in the U.S. in 1885, “Huck Finn” is the fourth most banned book in schools, according to “Banned in the U.S.A.” by Herbert N. Foerstal, a retired college librarian who has written several books on First Amendment issues.

Gribben conceded the edited text loses some of the caustic sting but said: “I want to provide an option for teachers and other people not comfortable with 219 instances of that word.”

In addition to replacing the N-word, Gribben changes the villain in “Tom Sawyer” from “Injun Joe” to “Indian Joe” and “half-breed” becomes “half-blood.”

Gribben knows he won’t change the minds of his critics, but he’s eager to see how the book will be received by schools rather than university scholars.

“We’ll just let the readers decide,” he said.

Comedian Sarah Silverman in Blackface

My World Premiere

Hello, world.  It’s me, Kiki.  The one who parodies our popular culture, doesn’t watch television or listen to commercial radio.  I don’t buy InTouch Weekly (but will peek during a pedicure if the NY Times crossword puzzle isn’t nearby) and certainly didn’t mean to make a fuss.  Really.  However I think it’s funny that all this time I fought the label of “burlesque performer” because I already thought that, to describe my work, it is not an entirely accurate pigeon hole.  And here I am making the tabloid news because I am honest-to-God withdrawing from it and moving on to what most of my mentors and close creative genius friends have suggested all along: a one woman show.  To be honest, the concept doesn’t quite grab me.  People might think it is stand up.  And let’s face it, going to see stand up in New York these days, much like many things in this ever-evolving new New York, is just not what it used to be. That just isn’t going to work.

So instead, and based on the uncensored concept that made the Sunday Show such an underground-cum-public success, I am going to reconnect with my unique style of entertaining the public through topical, somewhat controversial performances and observational humor  through a new “One-ish Woman Show”.  I am always inspired by how the way I see the world translates, with the help of spectacle performances, to and before an interested audience.  It’s medicine in a sick and twisted world.  And you’ll see real burlesque (but not from me – the adorable outfits will be staying on from now on!) Admittance will not be selective but instead, limited.

The new year will bring, as usual, more unexpected performance art than you can shake a dollar at.  And speaking of, I’m still not going to charge $1000 to see it (ah-hem, you know you are, venue I’m referring to).   The type of art that people can afford and relate to is what I want to continue to provide in 2011.  I have a fire lit beneath me, and it’s burning off my garter belt.

Perezhilton.com neglected to mention that The Sunday Show had a residency at The Slipper Room on Orchard Street in New York City before it closed.  We are doing the anniversary show at Ella because construction on the new theater is pending.  I, of course, would love to bring something back to the space that James and Camille Habacker created to delight audiences and give performers a space to work out their concepts.  We’ll see how things progress.

 

Isn’t this what everyone dreams of? We’re the stars of our own made-for-TV movie.
Screen shot 2013-02-23 at 12.08.50 PM