Aquí comparto la carta que James St James escribió a Michael Alig con motivo de su salida de la cárcel tras 17 años de condena. James le explica todo lo necesario para sobrevivir en esta nueva era. Publicada el 5 de mayo de 2014 en la web de Rupaul.
Prisoner #97A6595 aka Michael Alig is officially released from prison today. In honor of that occasion, I thought I’d jot down a few thoughts about life in the new millennia to pass along to him.
Dear Michael,
It’s a very different world you’re re-entering into. So much has changed in the 17 years since you last walked among us. For instance: We have talking pictures now! And cronuts!
Boys are cuter in the 21st century. And dicks are bigger. These are facts. If you don’t believe me, spend an hour on Tumblr. Another odd thing: EVERYBODY has killer style now. Kids in Peoria are as fabulous as the kids in Williamsburg. It’s all rather dizzying, and kind of depressing. When everybody is fabulous, nobody is.
OMG. Burger King changed their french fries and the world has never been the same.
Cabs take credit cards now.
We don’t use the “t” word anymore. (It’s “trans” now) And don’t even joke about it. The PC police will GET YOU. Also: “cisgender” is a thing now. Sprinkle it liberally into conversations to give yourself a bit of gravitas.
Viral videos, blogs, GIFs, memes – there’s a whole world waiting for you online. But the internet is a scary place. Things get weird fast. I suggest dipping your feet in slowly. Gently. Here are a few fun, soothing videos to get you going: David After Dentist, The Prancercize Lady, Charlie Bit Me, Sweet Brown, Two Girls One Cup…
Technology develops at light speed now, you don’t want to get left behind. You NEED a smart phone, a computer, a DVR, and a tablet. There are no two ways around this. And be sure to keep up on all the latest upgrades and gadgets. You don’t want to be like me. I still have an iphone 4. Its calculator is an abacus. My Grindr only has Pilgrims in my area who want to hook up. It’s OLD.
Things we don’t need any more: Phone books, dictionaries, maps, and encyclopedias. They’re all in your phone. IT’S CRAZY.
Things it takes awhile to get used to not needing anymore: Photographs, books, and newspapers. You’ll fight this, but eventually you’ll succumb. It’s a paperless world now. Adapt or die.
You aren’t going to believe this one: Clubs play top 40 now. Rihanna, Britney, Katy Perry. That’s it. It’s very sad. The scene has changed. Clubs aren’t the subversive pleasure palaces of yore. Now, it’s just a thousand shrieking girls taking selfies and dancing to “Wake Me Up” by Aviccii.
95% of your time in any given club will be spent having your picture taken. Seriously. It’s. All. You. Do. Picture after picture after picture.
Smile. Snap.
Smile. Snap.
Until you want to snap someones head off.
Speaking of clubs: You’ve become a bit of a legend since you went in (YOU’RE WELCOME) and you WILL stop the room the first few times you go out. It’s an odd sensation, but even odder is when it doesn’t happen. See, you’re old now, and although many of this generation were raised on Party Monster , sometimes you’ll find yourself in a room where everybody is completely CLUELESS. They’ve never seen the Geraldos or Phil Donahues or Jenny Joneses. They’ve never heard of Angel. They don’t know or care who Julie Jewels was. They don’t even know who Andy Warhol was. A 21-year-old at WOW had never heard of Moby. MOBY. It’s weird. The generation that has the greatest access to knowledge in the history of mankind is the one that cares the least about it. So there will be places where you go where NOBODY WILL RECOGNIZE YOU and NOBODY WILL CARE. And because you are no longer a cute little twink, 20-somethings will LOOK RIGHT THROUGH YOU. Or worse: SNEER at the old man. Joy Behar once said that after 35 nobody looks at you on the beach anymore, no matter how good you look. It’s true. And it’s true everywhere. My point: Enjoy the times people recognize you, because not being recognized when your old SUUUUUUUCKS.
What else… what else….
Something happened to the Twin Towers. They aren’t there any more. Ask around for the story.
If you need a conversation opener, try “gluten.” It’s all anyone talks about anymore. Say you’re thinking of going gluten-free, and see how people light up.
Obama wants us to cough into our elbows now, instead of our balled-up fists.
You’re going to need to download the following apps ASAP: Grindr, Scruff, Jack’D, Uber, Snapchat, Vine, Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, spotify, Wikipedia, Moviephone, IMDB, HuluPlus, Fruit Ninja, and Angry Birds (dated, yes, but you need to catch up)…
A crash course on social media platforms:
Facebook is where you find people you went to high school with who now own pretend farms.
Instagram is all the people you avoid at parties posting pictures of their breakfast.
Twitter is just people you don’t know making pithy comments about serious subjects they know nothing about.
Pinterest is where morbidly obese cat ladies pin pictures of what Cersei would wear.
Tumblr is micro-blogging for tweens + gay porn.
And Vine is always just sx seconds of extreme torture.
Haterz gonna hate, of course, but the worst of the worst are YouTube commenters and Redditors. You have been warned.
Stay away from Beliebers, Little Monsters, and Directioners. They make holocaust deniers seem well-reasoned. And they will cut a bitch if you cross them.
Breaking Bad. You need to Netflix that shit NOW. (Also on your to-do list: Get Netflix.)
Movies. I was thinking of starting a #MoviesMichaelNeedstoSee on Twitter, because I can’t possibly list 18 years worth of important, life-altering movies off the top of my head, but here’s where to start: Donnie Darko, Bully, Gummo, Mysterious Skin, Blair Witch, Election, Jaw Breaker, Y Tu Mama Tambien, Apt Pupil, Hedwig, Spring Breakers, Funny Games, Happiness, The Rules of Attraction, American Psycho, Boys Don’t Cry, Velvet Goldmine, Fight Club, Bad Santa, Scream, The Ice Storm, Boogie Nights, Igby Goes Down, Rushmore, Die Mommy Die, Last Days of Disco, AI, Lost Highway, 28 Days Later, Pan’s Labyrinth, District 9, Capturing the Friedmans… and on.
Funny side note: Drug dealers almost always have Party Monster on. Or Kill Bill Volume 2. Literally WITHOUT FAIL. Every drug dealer’s apartment you will ever go to (and I’m not advising you to got to any… but) there they are. There YOU are. On a loop.
Drugs. Omg, there are so many new drugs that I’m advising you not to do. You can’t, of course, because you’re on A SPIRITUALLY ENLIGHTENED PATH now – planting trees in Angel’s name and building homes for orphans and whatnot. The last thing we need is for you to chew off some hobo’s face while high on bath salts. But there’s a WORLD of new synthetic drugs you should AT LEAST be aware of: K2, Salvio, Meow Meow…
OH. There is ONE drug that you really OUGHT TO TRY. You’ll just love it, I know it.
NO SIDE EFFECTS. And NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW you’ve done it.
It’s called krocodil.
Really, Michael, I’m just going to get a tiny, little gram of krokodil as a getting out present…. Thank me later.
Well. That should get you started.
All my best wishes for you’re newly rehabilitated life. Enjoy the new millennia, it’s been waiting for you
xxx
James St james
Las ventajas de ser un marginado, Stephen Chbosky
“Por fin acabó cuando mi tío Phil vio los cardenales de mi
tía Rebecca y por fin le sonsacó la verdad. Entonces, se reunió con unos
cuantos amigos de la fábrica y buscaron al segundo marido de mi abuela en un
bar. Y le dieron una paliza tremenda. A mi tío Phil le encanta contar la
historia cuando mi abuela no está cerca. La historia siempre cambia pero lo
principal sigue siendo igual. El tipo murió cuatro días después en el hospital.
Todavía no sé cómo se libró de la cárcel el tío Phil por
hacer lo que hizo. Se lo pregunté una vez a mi padre, y dijo que la gente del
vecindario entendía que algunas cosas no tenían nada que ver con la policía. Dijo
que si alguien tocaba a una hermana o una madre, tendría que pagar por ello, y
todo el mundo haría la vista gorda.
Es una lástima que aquello durara siete años, porque mi tía
Rebecca sufrió la misma clase de maridos. En cambio, su experiencia fue
distinta porque los vecinos cambian. Mi tío abuelo Phil era demasiado viejo, y
mi padre había dejado su ciudad natal. Ella tuvo que conseguir órdenes de
alejamiento.
Pienso en cómo serán en el futuro mis tres primos, los hijos
de la tía Rebecca. Una chica y dos chicos. Me da pena, también, porque creo que
la chica probablemente acabe como mi tía Rebecca, y uno de los chicos acabe
como su padre. El otro puede acabar como mi padre, porque es bueno con los
deportes y tiene un padre distinto del de sus hermanos. Mi padre habla mucho de
él, y le enseña cómo lanzar y batear una pelota de béisbol. Yo solía ponerme
celoso cuando era pequeño, pero ya no lo hago, porque mi hermano dijo que mi
primo era el único de su familia que tiene una oportunidad. Necesita a mi padre.
Supongo que ahora lo comprendo.
(…) No sé por qué, pero entiendo perfectamente por qué mi
padre tuvo que salir de esta casa. Cuando supo que mi abuela nunca encontraría
otro hombre porque había dejado de confiar en los demás, y que nunca buscaría
otra cosa porque no sabía cómo hacerlo. Y cuando vio que su hermana empezaba a
traer a casa versiones más jóvenes de su padrastro como novios. Simplemente, no
podía quedarse.
Me tumbé en su antigua cama y miré por la ventana al árbol,
que probablemente fuera mucho más bajo cuando mi padre lo miraba. Y pude sentir
lo que él sintió la noche en que se dio cuenta de que si no se iba, no tendría
una vida propia. Sería la vida de ellos. Por lo menos, así nos lo contó. Quizá por
esa razón la familia de mi padre ve la misma película todos los años."
Que llegue el verano y que llegue ya
Se acerca el buen tiempo y a mí me dan muchas ganicas de vestir de colorinchis. Yo soy la típica persona que viste el cien por cien del tiempo de negro. Es una cuestión más práctica que otra cosa. Tengo estilos tan diferentes y gustos tan dispares que ni encuentro ropa que me guste (hola, compras por internet, voy a abusar de vosotras), ni tengo dinero suficiente para tener un armario con cada uno de mis estados de ánimo.
Si tuviera dinero para renovar mi armario cada vez que me diera la gana, ahora mismo solo vestiría como este mural que os dejo a continuación. Todo rosas, y pasteles, y colores alegres. Pero como a lo largo de estos años solamente he acumulado ropa negra, pues es lo que toca. Siempre tengo días en los que rebusco por mi armario a ver si encuentro colores claros, IMPOSIBLE, pero las ganas son constantes.
Debería irme de compras, ¿quién se anima?
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