I went to my first gay pride parade yesterday. For a long time I sniffed at the idea, in the opinion that such parades did nothing but hurt the image of the gay community. However, last week’s anti-gay demonstration in Taipei shook the complacency from my attitude. I figured that, if I am going to offer an opinion on such matters, I might as well go take a look for myself.

Also, it was a nice day and I didn’t feel like staying at home.

I took the MRT to NTUH Station and found the park exit mobbed with people watching the parade; police officers were trying to clear exit routes. Gongyuan Road was the scene of two parades: the main parade, with floats and signs and people in costumes, watched by crowds on both sides of the street. On the sidewalks was the second parade, which consisted mainly of people who wanted to follow or even be in the parade, but didn’t dare be so open about it. The result was three streams of people; the main parade flanked by two lesser streams of watcher/participants. Chenbl and I stood on the curb and watched the various groups and floats, and I found that the gaggles of prancing, feathered nudists that the media would have you believe represent all gay people everywhere were actually just a small minority of the people in the parade. I suppose it’s natural that photographers and reporters focus on what they feel is different and strange, but it ends up distorting the reality.

I saw a lot of interesting people, some of whom I knew and many I didn’t; I met Sho, whom I’ve bumped into a couple of times over the past few months, a particularly fuzzy bear from Banqiao who seems to have lost a lot of weight since I last saw him, and The Taipei Kid, whom I haven’t seen in a while. It was his first gay pride parade as well, and he also said he was prompted to attend by the Christian anti-gay protests of the week before. I wonder how many people the Christians motivated to come out to the parade, and how they feel about the result of their actions. Certainly I didn’t see any Christian anti-gay protesters at the parade.

As the end of the parade neared, I began to follow it up the road, ducking in and out of it, taking pictures with my little camera. I had thought that I wouldn’t be very interested in the typical “gay parade” shots and thus didn’t bring the Invincible Rabbit, but there were plenty of people shot opportunities, and I ran down an entire battery taking shots. The light was excellent, at several points reflecting off of nearby office buildings and creating “no-flash corners” and backlighting people on the street in an interesting fashion. We walked along Xiangyang Road to Chongqing South Road and then along Hengyang Street towards the West Gate District, where I ducked in to get some water and lost track of the parade at the intersection with Zhonghua Road.

Chenbl wanted to go see some friends of his, gay Malaysian badminton players who were partaking in an international gay sports event at the NTU gym, so we took the MRT over and walked through the campus to the huge complex on Xinhai Road, and down to the basement where the tournament was taking place. Ray arrived not long afterwards to watch as well. The action was pretty fierce, far above my level, as players from Malaysia, Japan, Taiwan, Thailand and Hong Kong battled on the long series of courts. I talked to one of the Taiwan team players, and he said that they practice at the center near the Little Big Egg on Saturdays, and Ray said he might check it out, as he is better at badminton than I am and might fit in better. It was a bit odd to realize that everyone in the room was ‘mo-Asian. “This is our sport,” someone told me. “Badminton is made for gay Asians.”

After the tournament we went back to K-Road in front of the presidential palace where the paraders had ended up for a concert. Police stood around, looking bored and more than a little unneccesary, as people listened to the musicians on the stage telling them to be brave in the face of adversity. Looking at the crowd, it occurred to me that perhaps the attraction of such events is not so much to say something to the world in general, but just to be in an environment where, for once, we are not the minority, where we don’t have to censor ourselves or worry that others might think ill of us or just freak out. Ironically, the point of such events, which are portrayed as being bizzarre meccas of hedonism and extremism, is just to feel “normal” for a short time.

We’d arranged to meet some of the Malasian team at Za Watami by the train station for dinner, but we ended up waiting on the sofas outside for a good half hour before we could get in. I spent most of the time giving Ray some pointers on using his new 500D. The food, when we were finally served, was excellent as usual. I’ve always liked the atmosphere at that place, the lively colors and the sight of the station sign looming over Zhongxiao West Road outside the tall windows. It was interesting to hear about the Malaysians’ experiences in Taiwan; it’s difficult to think of one’s home city as a tourist destination, particularly hard for a city like Taipei. I managed to not eat too much, a real feat, and we chatted until the place was about to close before going our separate ways.

In other news, I’ve decided I need a break before the weather gets too cold, so I’m flying to Tokyo tomorrow for a week or so of meandering around that great city and hopefully capture some of the fall colors there. Although I haven’t learned Japanese as I’d told myself I should, I have more or less memorized the Hiragana and Katakana, so at least I’ll be able to read the signs.

I didn’t sleep well the first night back in the Water Curtain Cave. The closer-than-usual walls seemed strange, and the smell from the sideboard cleaner, floor cleaner and paint was too strong, even with the windows open. Last night after work I went for a walk in the rain through the older part of the city, towards the river and Dadaocheng, taking pictures of wet taxis and silhouettes as I went. I passed a lively 50′s-era dance hall called the Singapore Cabaret Co., complete with a tall Christmas-tree radio mast and an elegant spiral staircase at the entrance. Cabs were lined up on the street outside, waiting to take classy people back to their luxury high-rises or on to other night spots.

Somehow I ended up standing outside the sliding glass doors of The Office Sauna on Changan Road at midnight. It was the only gay sauna I hadn’t been to in this town, and I hadn’t spent the night in one in years. I used to go now and then, especially when I needed a cheap place to stay when I was in town on leave from the army.

I decided to check it out. 24 hours costs NT$400, the guy at the front desk informed me. The only other rate is by the hour, NT$150 I think. I checked my shoes and took my key up to the 7th floor to store my clothes in a small wooden locker, seeing only the suggestions of other people inside. Clad in only a towel, I then headed to the baths and showers a floor below. The place seemed not only deserted, but also looked as if it had been sitting on the ocean floor for many years. The remaining paint was peeling, tiles cracked and missing, lights and doors broken or just not there. The metalwork was covered in rust, and the floors boomed and creaked under foot. It was obvious that at one point many years ago it was quite nice, but today the place is every bit as tawdry and decrepit as the old Da-fan sauna on Zhongxiao and Chongqing before they tore that building down.

The baths were dimly lit by the remaining couple of working lights, and the one small window, its dusty curtain tied to keep it out of the water, was open to the outside. Water dripped from the corroded metal railing above, and the resulting bubbles remained on the water’s surface for a discomfortingly long time. The steam room was empty of people as well as steam, the dry heat room only vaguely warmish and equally empty. I finished up and headed down to the “restaurant”, which was a musty yellow room with a couple of drink machines, a few tables, an old TV turned to a news channel, and some dusty fashion magazines from several years ago. The “TV Room” had no TV, the screens in the movie theater were dark, and the KTV section empty and silent. The few guys roamed around, quiet as ghosts.

My plan had been to find a small room and go straight to sleep, but there were no blankets and stains on the sheets covering the wooden floor. The rough, wet sounds of lovemaking came from adjourning rooms through the thin partitions, accompanied every so often by the rattle of someone trying the doorknobs on each room. An unlocked door was an invitation to enter. I grew cold without blankets, and the rattling kept me up, so I went back up to the “theater” and found some beds set up there. There I was able to sleep, interrupted only for the occasional groping in the dark from a passerby.

More men arrived in the wee hours of the morning, but by the time I got up at 6am the place was even more dead. I washed again, got dressed, and returned to the front desk, where the same fellow who checked me in the night before took my key. Outside the weather was windy and cold, the gray streets practically deserted despite it being morning rush hour. I got some egg-cakes at a small sidewalk stand and sat looking at the huddled scooter riders waiting for the light to change. One, a woman, clucked at a nearby pigeon. I wondered if she was insane or just strange.

Happy Valentine’s Day. The pictured teddy bear wedding package, available at 7-Elevens around the island, originally featured a groom bear and a bride bear, so I bought another and replaced the bride bear with the other groom bear because I WANT TO DESTROY EVERY MARRIAGE IN AMERICA! LOL!!!1111OnEOzZZ

Sorry, I came perilously close to revealing The Gay Agenda there, and that just wouldn’t do. Seriously, I just thought it would be a cute thing to see. If I were a true activist I would organize an island-wide campaign to switch bride and groom bears surreptitiously in the stores themselves. As Taiwan isn’t the bastion of Puritanism that red-state America is, it probably wouldn’t cause much more than a few double-takes.

As for me, I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone again, or practicing Tai-chi as I usually do on Wednesdays. The whole spitting-on-swanboats thing is getting old anyway.

In other news, Ma Ying-jeou has been indicted after prosecutors discovered irregularities in the use of his special mayoral fund. While it’s not surprising that this happened (Ma’s been seen as the KMT’s presidential candidate for so long his opponents were bound to dig up something sooner or later to use against him), the fact that Ma made such a stupid mistake seems extraordinarily careless. I can only guess that he thought that the reality that declaring half of the office’s discretionary fund is SOP in Taiwan would somehow make him immune to prosecution. Either that or he truly didn’t know, which in many ways is just as worrying.

I expected Ma to resign from the KMT chairmanship after the indictment announcement, but it appears that he is still intent on running for the presidency despite a party rule that those indicted are not allowed to be nominated by the party for office. Ma himself came up with this rule years ago, so he of all people should be aware of its existence. Balls o’ steel, that man has. I was expecting Lien Chan to use this opportunity to regain the party chairmanship so that he could broker a Wang/Ma ticket, but it looks like this may not be the case. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. Ma has been considered the KMT’s best chance at winning in 2008, but Wang would also have a pretty good shot, I think. In any case, speculation at this point is useless. The DPP got “lucky” twice due to bizarre circumstances that caused them to win the last two times, so I wouldn’t rule out some strange unforeseen incident doing the same thing this time around.

Meanwhile, Prince Roy wants to know my opinion on the DPP’s recent campaign to get rid of any reference to the terms “China” or “Chinese” in Taiwan.

Sigh.

Ok. Many media reports call this campaign one of “rectification,” which is of course a matter of opinion. This is actually just the latest in a thousand-year-old trend of dynastic thinking. One group gets in power and changes the money, the official designations, nomenclature, etc. on the claim that it is “rectifying” things. Then another group takes power and the pissing-on-trees starts all over again. Rinse, repeat. Imagine if each US administration issued different colored money with pictures of its heroes on it, and then changed all the official names of everything. Think of all the wasted time, effort and money that would result, time, money and effort that should be spent on improving concrete aspects of people’s lives. Ironically, the DPP in this instance is acting like just the latest in a long line of Chinese-style dynasties. Say what you will about Chiang Kai-shek, but a thousand-NT bill from his time looked like a thousand NT. A US 20-dollar bill features one of history’s most notorious mass-murderers, Andrew Jackson, but it looks like real money. We’re left with a bunch of kids stymied by a vaguely drawn globe.

But let’s say you’re hell-bent on getting rid of references to a certain culture and history. Ok. At the very least, you should make an effort to replace it with something solid and fair, something people can take some kind of assurance from in lieu of what they had before. The reason Taiwanese people have identity issues these days isn’t due to the influence of Chinese culture and history, which have been around ever since their ancestors brought it here with them from China starting centuries ago. No, the DPP, in its quest to remove these connections and associations that they feel threaten their political power base, simply hasn’t done a very good job of replacing them with anything significant. People are being told that the language they speak, the words they use, the customs they grew up with and the beliefs they’ve been taught are all now wrong and foreign and keeping them down. Fair enough, but in their absence, what’s left? Aborigines dancing for tourist dollars, a plethora of special reports on indigenous flora and fauna, and millions of people who have no clue who they are or what they believe in.

But back to the name-changing thing. Basically, it’s already 2007. The DPP may not be able to come up with a way to not be voted out of power next year, so now’s the time to do all the things on its to-do list. Chen wants his legacy, and the party doesn’t particularly care about the housekeeping since it’s the last night at the hotel.

Happy Valentine’s Day. The pictured teddy bear wedding package, available at 7-Elevens around the island, originally featured a groom bear and a bride bear, so I bought another and replaced the bride bear with the other groom bear because I WANT TO DESTROY EVERY MARRIAGE IN AMERICA! LOL!!!1111OnEOzZZ

Sorry, I came perilously close to revealing The Gay Agenda there, and that just wouldn’t do. Seriously, I just thought it would be a cute thing to see. If I were a true activist I would organize an island-wide campaign to switch bride and groom bears surreptitiously in the stores themselves. As Taiwan isn’t the bastion of Puritanism that red-state America is, it probably wouldn’t cause much more than a few double-takes.

As for me, I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone again, or practicing Tai-chi as I usually do on Wednesdays. The whole spitting-on-swanboats thing is getting old anyway.

In other news, Ma Ying-jeou has been indicted after prosecutors discovered irregularities in the use of his special mayoral fund. While it’s not surprising that this happened (Ma’s been seen as the KMT’s presidential candidate for so long his opponents were bound to dig up something sooner or later to use against him), the fact that Ma made such a stupid mistake seems extraordinarily careless. I can only guess that he thought that the reality that declaring half of the office’s discretionary fund is SOP in Taiwan would somehow make him immune to prosecution. Either that or he truly didn’t know, which in many ways is just as worrying.

I expected Ma to resign from the KMT chairmanship after the indictment announcement, but it appears that he is still intent on running for the presidency despite a party rule that those indicted are not allowed to be nominated by the party for office. Ma himself came up with this rule years ago, so he of all people should be aware of its existence. Balls o’ steel, that man has. I was expecting Lien Chan to use this opportunity to regain the party chairmanship so that he could broker a Wang/Ma ticket, but it looks like this may not be the case. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. Ma has been considered the KMT’s best chance at winning in 2008, but Wang would also have a pretty good shot, I think. In any case, speculation at this point is useless. The DPP got “lucky” twice due to bizarre circumstances that caused them to win the last two times, so I wouldn’t rule out some strange unforeseen incident doing the same thing this time around.

Meanwhile, Prince Roy wants to know my opinion on the DPP’s recent campaign to get rid of any reference to the terms “China” or “Chinese” in Taiwan.

Sigh.

Ok. Many media reports call this campaign one of “rectification,” which is of course a matter of opinion. This is actually just the latest in a thousand-year-old trend of dynastic thinking. One group gets in power and changes the money, the official designations, nomenclature, etc. on the claim that it is “rectifying” things. Then another group takes power and the pissing-on-trees starts all over again. Rinse, repeat. Imagine if each US administration issued different colored money with pictures of its heroes on it, and then changed all the official names of everything. Think of all the wasted time, effort and money that would result, time, money and effort that should be spent on improving concrete aspects of people’s lives. Ironically, the DPP in this instance is acting like just the latest in a long line of Chinese-style dynasties. Say what you will about Chiang Kai-shek, but a thousand-NT bill from his time looked like a thousand NT. A US 20-dollar bill features one of history’s most notorious mass-murderers, Andrew Jackson, but it looks like real money. We’re left with a bunch of kids stymied by a vaguely drawn globe.

But let’s say you’re hell-bent on getting rid of references to a certain culture and history. Ok. At the very least, you should make an effort to replace it with something solid and fair, something people can take some kind of assurance from in lieu of what they had before. The reason Taiwanese people have identity issues these days isn’t due to the influence of Chinese culture and history, which have been around ever since their ancestors brought it here with them from China starting centuries ago. No, the DPP, in its quest to remove these connections and associations that they feel threaten their political power base, simply hasn’t done a very good job of replacing them with anything significant. People are being told that the language they speak, the words they use, the customs they grew up with and the beliefs they’ve been taught are all now wrong and foreign and keeping them down. Fair enough, but in their absence, what’s left? Aborigines dancing for tourist dollars, a plethora of special reports on indigenous flora and fauna, and millions of people who have no clue who they are or what they believe in.

But back to the name-changing thing. Basically, it’s already 2007. The DPP may not be able to come up with a way to not be voted out of power next year, so now’s the time to do all the things on its to-do list. Chen wants his legacy, and the party doesn’t particularly care about the housekeeping since it’s the last night at the hotel.

Today was a bit frustrating.

It started out ok. Nice and bright. Xian-rui and I played ping-pong downstairs, and I managed to keep the ball in play for literally seconds at a time, a big improvement over the last time we played.

After Xian-rui left I took a shower and headed over to a Thai restaurant on Jinan Road where the “Little Bear Village” was having its annual New Year’s party. I didn’t know anyone there. Well, I did, online, but I’d never met anyone there face-to-face before. I was seated at the geeky table, apparently, with a few exceptions. I knew one guy from chatting online before. I noticed that there wasn’t a whole lot of animated discussion at the other tables. A round of weak alcohol seemed to help matters, as did the handing out of the exchanged gifts, along with a short introduction of each recipient.

I noticed a guy across the room who seemed familiar. And also very interesting. After the party broke up I went over and sat down at their table after seeing that one of the guys there had received the gift I brought. He turned out to be the cute guy’s little brother. We chatted for a while, and I was feeling pretty good about until I realized that he was already spoken for. What really smarts is that we’d exchanged messages online years ago but never got together. It’s too bad, really. He seems really nice.

So I left with my NT$200 red envelope and walked around the city’s alleyways for a while. I looking for a place to piss when I ran into an old acquaintance from the News. He’s still working there and was on his way to a bar that used to be Roxy 99.

It was still relatively early, and I decided to go to JB’s to watch Clay Soldiers on TV. The waitress switched the little TV in the corner to CTS, which for some strange reason was just starting “Free Willy,” as a drunk English woman put her ashtray on my table, sat down and decided to spray me with her repugnantly sweet perfume. As politely as I could, I refrained from punching her. I figured she probably had friends there and I didn’t want to miss the show over a bar brawl.

The time CTS had told me came and went, however, and no Clay Soldiers. I switched around the channels a bit, and then gave up. CTS was still showing Free Willy, and every time I saw that damn whale I just wanted to see a harpoon pierce its gaping maw. Preferably with the kid attached.

Discouraged, I waded through the crowd of soccer-watchers and left in time to catch the last train home. When I got online someone told me that they had seen the show, but very faintly on channel 11. CTS is channel 12. I’ll call tomorrow to see if they can explain what the hell was going on. Right now I need to take another shower and get this damn perfume off me.

UPDATE: DOH! It was on channel 11, one of CTS’s other channels. Oh, well. At least we’re being broadcast.