[Giant e-mail forward regarding Hilary Clinton's campaign edited out for brevity.]

From: Rufus, Yahoo! LGBT Moderator [xxx@yahoo-inc.com]
To: Yahoo! LGBT Stakeholders Group [xxx@yahoo-inc.com]
Time: 1:00pm

In the interests of keeping this Group as friendly and non-combative as possible, I would like to discourage the discussion of the political campaign and the candidates. Just think of it as a first date and avoid topics around politics, religion, and kids.

Thanks,
- Rufus

Ps. I'm just joking about the kids. We're a family friendly group and what better to cheer up a day than by sending out a cute kid photo.

From: Ernie [xxx@yahoo-inc.com]
To: Yahoo! LGBT Stakeholders Group [xxx@yahoo-inc.com]
Time: 1:11pm

... Unless your kid is Republican. Or Catholic.

That’s a way to get a response from me; create a video that starts out with the line, “Asian men have a lot of diseases [and] small penises.”

Gimmicky way to start off a documentary aside, some interesting points are raised by this video: stereotypes of Gay Asian men exist – that they’re skinny, smooth, only date white guys and that they are effeminate and thus passive. The pod also asserts that non-Asians feel that the stereotypes of Asians are justified because that’s all they see when they walk around in the Castro on go on chat rooms.

Usually it’s easy to write my own personal opinions on the matter, but for this post I’m having a strangely difficult time on this one. Maybe it’s because I’m definitely not a gay Asian stereotype – I’m definitely NOT skinny, I can’t dress for shit (ask my friend Royce; he’ll tell you stories) and I don’t think I’m THAT effeminate (feel free to shoot me down if I assume wrong.) While fighting stereotypes sound like a noble thing, when you’re coming out of the closet you WANT to fit in somewhere, be in a tribe, look and act like everyone else as a way to not feel ostracized. I had huge self-esteem issues where I’ve felt like the only way I could ever find a boyfriend is if I were to somehow magically lose fifty pounds and dress in DKNY, because that’s the only thing I saw – horrible, but true. As a result, I hung out with the bear subculture for a while, but that didn’t make things any better – an experience with discrimination there is one of the reasons why I started 8Asians.

Now I’m a little older and I know that if someone is trying so hard to live up to a certain label that they’re not really worth my effort anyway. Dating is still a challenge but if someone is not into me, then their bad. Gaysians, what are your experiences?

So I decided to do an interpretation of… a porn scene. Using magic markers. What. (Note: NSFW AUDIO)

Some geek footnotes:

• I was all ready to do this with the webcam in my MacBook pro, but my neighbor Laurie saved the day and let me borrow his pocket video camera. Doing this was surprisingly fun, but I’m not really the type to videotape stuff and I’m not sure if I can justify buying a video camera, solely for vidcasting. The world doesn’t need a fat Asian version of Lonelygirl15.
• You might notice I posted this on Jumpcut instead of YouTube. I used Jumpcut for two reasons: because I share an office with them, and because I knew their spiel was that you could edit video online. As someone whose first experience editing video was with Jumpcut, I have to say I was impressed. The UI was simple enough where my eyes didn’t glaze over, but I could still edit clips and add effects and what not. Count me a fan.
• As for the porn music: “Take Me Now!” by Nick Chapman, used with a Creative Commons license. I’m fairly certain that when the Creative Commons license was created, it was specifically for this purpose: for people to use porno music for two minute Internet skits about gay magic markers having sex, without being sued for copyright infringement.

All in all though, from video from concept to finish took around three or four hours. Not too bad.

More than a year ago I was nominated for the the same awards, similar to the Weblog Awards that are announced every year at the SXSW conference except with categories like “Best porn star,” “Sexiest Queer candy” and sponsored by a bunch of gay porn all-male adult entertainment websites. I didn’t win the “Best Gay Asian” category, and after a year of therapy and mild sedatives to dull away the thought of being the “WORST GAY ASIAN EVER,” I’ve moved on with my life.

When they invited me to join the contest, I hesitated. Blogging now is very different than when the first community of bloggers developed in 2000 – it was a time before 9/11, corporate blogging or social networks like MySpace gave non-computer nerds an internet presence. Nowadays, it feels like people are more self-aware about putting things up on the Internet to reveal to the entire world, and rightfully so – the blogs I skim across now seem to have blog titles like “15 WAYS TO MAKE MORE MONEY OFF YOUR BLOG” or “20 WAYS TO EFFECTIVELY ENGAGE YOUR BLOG READERSHIP.” (And yes, there is a little hypocrisy in writing that since creating 8Asians and dabbling in corporate blogging. Thank you for noticing.) Gay blogs in particular seem to be hyper-glossified (thanks for the word, pk) with posts about celebrity gossip or targeted ads for gay cruises or HIV medication. Hey, I’m a blogger that wouldn’t mind getting paid, but that doesn’t necessarily mesh with my vibe, either.

Then I found out they were offering $2,000 for the winner. And subscriptions to gay porn sites, but mostly $2,000. Two thousand dollars is also the answer to the question, “How much money will Ernie sell out to compete in a contest sponsored by what is, essentially, a gay porn portal?” Ding.

So here I am, competing against a former go-go boy and a porn star and a bunch of guys with really good abs and Dan from The Real World: Miami. (A sidenote: Dan actually sent me a really nice e-mail to me, saying that he called into a radio show and was going to “wipe my face on the floor.” Which is really awesome when you think about it – it’s kinda like Omarosa from the Apprentice popping out of the television “The Ring” style and telling you that you totally suck. Kinda.)

I feel like I’m probably not going to win, but it’s an experience I’ll take full advantage of. It’s been a while since I’ve been motivated to write on a regular basis, and I’ll probably repost some of the stuff I’ve written there on LYD as well. You can visit the contest here, but a word of warning – while my content will be tame for the most part, I can’t gaurantee the same about the banner ads and the links and my competition. (In other words, quite possibly NOT SAFE FOR WORK. Alas.)

I’m mostly (okay, completely) going for for the company of my friends than anything else, but let’s go over that previous sentence again: I am going to see High School Musical. On motherfucking ice. Seriously, how old am I again? What gender am I?

My first experience watching High School musical was actually when I was in Canada, staying at my friend Ritchie’s house. We trekked to Vancouver’s version of an electronic store and Ritchie bought the award-winning Disney telefilm, along with a copy of Step Up. I bought World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade. While we were waiting in line we confirmed that he was the heterosexual one and I wasn’t, just to make sure. After popping the DVD in, I learned the following tidbits of information:

• The movie is a “modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet,” except the Montagues are played by dancing 5’7″ basketball players and the Capulets are way too attractive members of the Scholastic Decathalon. As someone who was an active participant in 7th grade Mathletes, I can tell you with a fair amount of confidence that I was never that pretty. Also, NO ONE DIES, THUS MAKING IT NOTHING LIKE ROMEO AND JULIET.
• I fully realize that if I were still in high school, I would be imagining myself in my cafeteria, belting out songs about sticking to the status quo while 300 of my classmates would sing and dance around me. Mind you, this would be a fantasy high school because if it were my actual high school I would probably sing eight bars before someone would come up and stab me in the jaw. Thank god I’m not watching this ice show as a teenager, because then my dream sequence would somehow integrate a triple sow cow Salchow and to have a mental image with all the singing and dancing and stabbing? That makes even me uncomfortable.

If anything, it makes me realize that I’m getting old. In twenty years, I’ll probably be blogging about Matlock The Musical: On Ice. This concerns me.

Mike: In the “I’m so ashamed of my home country” department, or in the “HOLY FUCKING SHIT FUCK” category: http://cbs5.com/topstories/local_story_159222541.html
Ernie: I read. trust, i read
Ernie: that is SO a gay porn movie plot written all over it, you don’t understand.
Ernie: they’re filming that shit RIGHT NOW.
Mike: Life in the Iraqi desert was hard for SSgt Jack Throbmore, but it was only going to get … worse. When the chemical bombs hit, Jack was unable to get into his protective rubber suit in time, exposing him and many in his unit to the full effect of the pink gas. The crush of humanity in the barracks became too much to bear. Thus begins story of the 4069th MASH.
Mike: (Yes! Alan Alda and gay porn in the same thought!)
Ernie: [slow clap]
Mike: Although instead of following Hawkeye, the movie should follow BJ Honeycut.
Mike: Right. Back to powerpoint.

Yesterday, I went to see Stephen at a fundraiser for the San Francisco Tsunami, the gay synchronized swimming team. (The term “gay synchronized swimming” might be kinda redundant, I realize.) One of the swim routines consisted of a medley of “Going Back to Cali” by LL Cool J, with “California Love” by 2Pac and Dr. Dre.

I would like to think that artists get royalties each time a song gets played, and somewhere in a music studio somewhere in the hills of Southern California, someone – most likely an English butler, because my imagination is kinda vivid like that – had just delivered Dr. Dre an envelope with a check sealed inside. Dr. Dre would inquire as to who was the latest person who played his song, and the butler would squint at the envelope, adjusting his monocle, before answering, “why, it looks like a ‘San Francisco Tsunami,’ sir. It appears to be a gay swim team.” And then Dr. Dre would nod before going back to producing his music or drinking his 40 or smacking his bitches or whatever.

This is what goes on in my head, I swear to God.

Also: I’m looking for a job. If you guys know of any good web development and blogging positions, drop me an e-mail. Ernie at this domain.

Incidentally, this is what a building in Miami looks like. A group of people actually sat at a table in the 1980s, presumably in their pink suits and gold chains and cigars, and said, "you know what? I think we should have a building, and it should be in five bright neon colors. There should be a corner that looks like a missile silo." Then they all snorted a mountain of cocaine and called it a night. The end.

If this seems a little out-of-character for me, it’s because it is: I’m going as a guest of my friend Royce, who won tickets, airfare and hotel accommodations to the festival through a contest. I’m actually the fourth person he chose, since his boyfriend isn’t over the age of 21, another friend is getting ready for the Peace Corps and yet another friend is in Arizona.

Seriously, I’ve never been so excited to be fourth string in anything, ever.

While I’ve been to Disneyworld three or four years ago, I know enough to know that Miami isn’t the same as Orlando. What I DO know about Miami consists the following: Miami Vice, The movie “The Bird Cage,” Gloria Estefan and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. So basically, the image in my head is of the following: Nathan Lane in a hot pink bikini, listening to his Walkman (NOT his iPod, mind you, his WALKMAN) while he’s rollerskating down South Beach. Then some random guy in a Hawaiian shirt comes up to him, does a line of cocaine and shoots him in the back of the head. The End.

On top of all of this, Royce and I are going to spend a day or two in Key West, which single-handedly makes this the gayest vacation I’ve ever been on. (Seriously, have you browsed the gay accommodations in Key West? Christ, I’m going to feel like I’m trapped in an 80′s porno movie.)

I’m handling all of this with a mixture of excitement and absolute horror; while Royce is getting an outfit, his hair done and has appointments at tanning salons planned, it’s not really my thing, personally. And as a result, I might have to apologize to the locals later for how tubby and pale I am, walking around their city full of beautiful people. If nothing else, it’ll make for an interesting blog post. (And if you’re in the area, of course, let me know one way or another.)

(You know what I mean when I say “a pack of gays,” right? Like, the group of 5-12 gay men that you see during Halloween or the Gay Pride parade and they have matching costumes or outfits? And half of them are drunk or high or breaking up with each other on their cellphones, and they’re all catty and shit so you turn to your friend to mention that the gay Power Rangers are coming, yet you have that slight pang of wanting just to fit in, if only for a little bit? No? Not at all? Never mind, then.)

As a result of trying to find this gay place to belong, I ended up being involved in the bear sub-culture. I wasn’t necessarily searching for it – I had one friend into the scene, and as a result, I would hang out with his friends, go to the same parties if they were going out, and so on. I’ve become pretty close to a couple of them, but to most people, I’m sure I was just “the token Asian boy, hanging out with the bears.” Fuck it, they don’t know any better. And so what if I’m at a party everyone is drunk or high or making out in the backyard and I feel like the only one not partnered off? Oh well, good times or good stories, I suppose.

So when people told me that I should get a profile on the local classified website bear411.com, saying I would be able to find someone relatively quickly to at least hang out with, I thought, “eh, whatever.” When my application wasn’t accepted the first time, I really thought nothing of it – maybe they’re just behind with their e-mail response times. Then it happened a second time. When it happened a third time, I got pretty irate, but it’s not really my thing to make a big deal about shit like that and maybe he’s just busy or something, and what can I do anyway, since it’s a private site?

It was only after reading the recent backlash against bear411 and reading this post by another gay Asian man who’s had difficulties getting on the same site that, oh shit, there really might BE some discrimination and the guy that runs this site seems to be a general assclown who dream of a perfect gay community are only the ones that he finds sexually attractive. Which is especially ironic since the bear subculture is a result of mainstream gay subculture being unwelcome to them. Ironically, the webmaster of bear411.com has a response for all the flack he’s received so far, but he doesn’t discuss his tendencies to discriminate.

Incidentally, I still feel out of place in the gay community – I’m finding that as far as gay friends are concerned, I’d rather have a fewer amount of very close gay friends than a larger amount of people I know super casually. And if I don’t have another boyfriend until I’m 37, well then, fuck it. Chalk that up to being older and wiser, I guess.