Welcome to Faded Denim Pride

Happy Pride!

I haven't been super active this month celebrating. Work is unusually busy and personal writing has been hard to accomplish on my personal time. I did briefly go into DC last week, but I was there to celebrate the first day of summer at the Smithsonian. I haven't even watched "Angels in America" (mostly because I have no idea where my DVDs are - and no I won't rent or buy it online). I have been reading Hungerstone by Kat Dunn, which is an updated take on Carmilla  - one of the earliest examples of vampires and sex (particularly feminine sexuality) in the Western cannon.

However, there was one item I recalled that I wanted to look up for Pride.

Several months ago, I published a blog post featuring my Antarctica travel journal for 11 November, 2025. Within that entry, I included the following paragraphs: 

"We sat with W.A.R, Su, and SN at lunch. I again had a sandwich with salad. We talked a bit about LGBTQIA+ history. Su had gone to Virginia Tech and were part of the Denim Protest. The LGBT+ alliance and allies wore denim in solidarity for gay rights during a week in January 1979. At the time, the school and community retaliated against the students. Virginia Tech recently celebrated the 45th anniversary."

I recall thinking about how it might make an interesting blog post for Pride Month. Fast forward six months, and I am sitting down to write this post. I go to look up the Denim Day Protest and I get barely anything. The key words Denim Day are most often associated with an event in April that raises awareness on sexual assault. 

I tried a couple of different search options and even used AI (ugh!) to help aid my search. Not even a wiki page popped up. 

The one of the few webpages that I saw mention it was a post on the Virginia Tech Alumni Relations site. It confirms that between January 15-19th, 1979, a small number of Gay Student Alliance members wore all denim and that they "endured ridicule, taunting, verbal and physical assaults."

The post was from 2019 or the 40th anniversary of the original protest. 

I did a little more digging and was able to find a timeline of LGBTQ+ History at Virginia Tech which includes a little more information on the Denim Day Protest. The website has transcripts to interviews from people who participated and records of responses to the protest.

I'm disappointed that I hadn't written more of that conversation down. I remember that she went into great detail about what lead up to the protest and the community's and school's brutal response to the handful of students who were trying to live their lives. She had explained why they had chosen denim and what it meant to the community in the 1970s.

I didn't record any of it. I thought there'd be more information on the Internet. Wikipedia has an article on everything. Why wouldn't it have an article on this one protest?

At least there is an archive being created on the LGBTQ+ history at Virginia Tech. I can read what other people remember from 40 years ago that I wasn't able to capture from one conversation at the bottom of the world. 

But the limited information is still disheartening. 

Part of why there might not be as much information is that a lot of LGBTQ+ history from before the 1990s has been lost. Between differing ideas on what it meant to be LBGTQ+ through the centuries (see the ancient Greeks and Romans for some of the best examples), relatives burning queer family members' personal writings to prevent scandals, and the huge loss of a recent generation to the AIDs pandemic, LGBTQ+ history is a patchwork quilt eaten by moths. There are those who are working to dig into LGBTQ+ history and preserve it for future LBGTQ+ people (because despite what some may think, queer people have always existed and we will continue to exist without any regard to social propriety). 

However, LGBTQ+ history, like other vulnerable groups' histories, is always on the cusp of being suppressed. In 1933, The Institute of Sexology was targeted by the newly elected German government (three guesses as to who was their leader and the first two don't count). During it's just over 20 years in existence, the Institute collected and researched LGBTQ+ history. They recognized transgender and intersex individuals (though by an outdated terms) along with educating people on sexual and reproductive health.

Everything was destroyed on May 6th, 1933. The loss of research and history is still being felt.

And it's not just LBGTQ+ history being suppressed, even in the United States. Over the past year, our national parks and lands have had to remove references to slavery, violence and genocide against first nations people, and other topics deemed "not beneficial to American history" (whatever that means). Some of these places are fighting back (it's kind of hard not to mention slavery when discussing why Harper's Ferry is a National Park) and ensuring that history is preserved. 

But how much is still lost?

I wish I could provide you with a better summary of that conversation. I have vivid memories of bits and pieces of it, but memories (no matter how vivid) are fallible. I don't have that person's contact information to ask them for an interview and I'd feel a bit weird asking for a blog post. 

But if LGBTQ+ and other vulnerable groups' histories are to be preserved, it's up to the individuals to share that with the next generation. I'll hopefully never forget that conversation from 11 November, 2025 on a ship in Antarctica.  By writing this blog post, I am sharing that an event called the Denim Day Protest did happen at Virginia Tech in 1979 and the reaction to it. I am sharing current links to the sources I was able to find. I am sharing that I knew someone who was part of making history. 

Because history is happening every day. 

In our age of social media and near instant news sharing via the Internet, so much information is being preserved in the digital space. And though we like to think the Internet is forever (and in many ways it is for any embarrassing photos posted in high school or college and that poorly thought out tweet you vomited out while black out drunk at 3:00am), it isn't. The digital space is just as prone to destruction and loss as paper and stone are. Most of what is preserved on the Internet is from passionate individuals who are happy to (perhaps overshare) their interests. 

I seem to be one of those people. 

Anyway, I hope everyone who participated had a Happy Pride. I'm going to go finish my book.

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please, like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me. 

Welcome to the Cabaret

This weekend has been an exploration of the arts for me. And while I’d love to go into details about all that I was up to, I think this topic deserves its own blog post.

Leave a comment if you’ve seen the movie or play Cabaret. The musical has many influences, but the main one is the book “Goodbye to Berlin” by Christopher Isherwood. The book is semi-autobiographical and takes place during the Weimar Republic in Berlin Germany.

And to add fuel to this fire, here's a controversial statement: I think students should be taught Cabaret. Not in college, but in high school...no younger than 12th grade. It's a tale of tragedy, accommodation, and the sinister way terrible ideas become mainstream that would make for a fascinating study in media literacy. The conservatives may clutch their pearls over the overt sexuality, gender fluidity, queerness, and other touchy subjects that are covered in this story. It's basically the book banner's worst nightmare - which might be why its so important to teach and discuss.

Cabaret is a fantastic glimpse into a very interesting point in history. One that should not be forgotten. And one that isn't discussed enough.

I haven’t read the book or seen the 1972 movie. Though I admit I know a bit about them from YouTube videos discussing queer history.

My first full exposure to the show was Friday at my local community center.

That’s right. I may have been spoiled by Broadway and the shows just off its street when I lived in New Jersey, but that won’t stop me enjoying local community theater productions either. And this production of Cabaret was very good.

The version I saw has been updated in the years since it first premiered in 1966. The story is also a little different from the 1972 movie. However, the songs are all there. 

I loved it!

The Emcee was great. I loved who they got to play Sally Bowels. The stage was well designed with deep reds and art deco browns. A soft smoke hung sinisterly in the upper rafters of the stage through most of the show. Always ominously looming over the characters.

Because despite the upbeat and happy performances of the member aid the Kit Kat Klub and the assurances that there are no troubles in its halls - evil is slowly pulling them into a death spiral. It’s 1929/1930s Germany guys - things are about to get really bad for a lot of people, particularly these characters.

Something y’all might not know about 1920s Germany - Berlin specifically - was that it was famous for its Cabarets, art, and queer scene. The world's first Transgender clinic with the largest research and resources on the LGBTQIA+ community was the The Institute for Sexual Research and was located in Berlin. I say "was" because like anything labeled "degenerate" by the ruling political party in the 1930s, it was destroyed. 

Nearly all of the art scene from the Weimar Republic's Berlin was destroyed. All that remains of it are written records of their existences and a few photos that survived into modern times. These are poor substitutes for the thriving art community was the cut short far too soon. We'll never know what these artists might have accomplished. 

"Goodbye to Berlin" is a record of the Berlin cabaret culture. This record has been morphed and transformed into the current Cabaret show. A show that is hilarious, sexually charged, queer, and sinister. 

It is at this point in my blog post that I will be writing about a story that was written over 50 years ago. If you are unfamiliar with Cabaret or how it ends and you chose to proceed, don't say I didn't warn you.

At first it's slow. The protagonist, Clifford Bradshaw meets a man named Ernst on the train. At the boarder Ernst hides one of his bags - claiming the contents are perfume and other knick-knacks that go over the legal customs limit. Ernst directs Clifford to a boarding house run by Fräulein Schneider, who tends to let the rules slide if it means that she still gets the rent at the end of the month. She is in love with a fruit seller, Herr Schultz, who is also Jewish. Ernst also tells Clifford to check out The Kit Kat Klub where he meets the flighty, yet lovable Sally Bowles and reconnects with an old flame...named Bobby.

So far, the story is full of people living a carefree life, celebrating the promises of a new year (Clifford arrives on New Year's Eve). The main conflicts are Fräulein Schneider and one of her tenets who brings home sailors every night, Sally breaking up with her boyfriend (who is also the club owner - and gets a fantastic break up song in the form of "Mein Herr"), and Clifford trying to figure out how to pay the rent. 

Ernst seems to be a friendly enough character. Not only does he get Cliff a cheap lodging, but eventually he becomes Cliff's first English student and then starts to recommend Cliff as a teacher to his friends. He knows Sally and frequents he Kit Kat Klub.

And then the end of the first act approaches. 

Everything seems fine. Everyone is having fun. Then Ernst takes off his jacket and we see his armband. 

Yeah - Ernst is a follower of a certain art school reject (and that's the closest I'm going to name that person). 

This is the point of no return for everyone in this story.

As the second act begins, we're treated to a chorus line of girls (plus the Emcee dressed as one of the girls) in a kick line and preforming some acrobatics. Close to the end of the number they start counting in German (makes sense, they are in Berlin). And then they make a very specific gesture that is related to a certain fascist political party.

This isn't the first time in the show that the certain political party was mentioned. Sally, intrigued by the fact that Clifford is a writer, picks up a book he is reading and assumes he wrote it. She then exclaims "Why it's in German!" 

Clifford is reading the certain art school reject's manifesto to "learn about the current politics". Sally is dismissive. After all "it's all just politics. What does that have to do with us?"

At the same time the adorable romance between Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz comes to a screeching halt because of what Ernst did at their engagement party (yeah - I didn't mention that part). Fräulein Schneider is a practical woman - she has a whole song about this personality trait in Act 1 called "So What?" - she's seeing the extent a certain political party has grown and how many of her friends and neighbors have joined. Herr Schultz, however, is optimistic. He believes ("as a German" himself) that everything will be fine. 

But a brick through Herr Schultz's fruit shop window frightens Fräulein Schneider to the point that she calls off their engagement. She knows that it's not just "mischievous school children" doing these things.

The Kit Kat Klub's show cuts in again with what appears to be a comedic performance of the Emcee with a person in a gorilla suit called "If You Could See Her". However, the last line is chilling and suddenly all the humor, all the laughter you've participated in is no longer funny at all. In fact, you might start to feel a bit uncomfortable, maybe even disgusted with yourself. 

There are quite a number of points in the show like this. The most famous song - also called "Cabaret" - is the second to last in the play. If you hear it on it's own, the song sounds like a fun up beat about enjoying life. However, just before Sally goes on, there's another scene that's a point of no return moment for these characters. 

Clifford, horrified that he's become friends with and working for a certain political party decides to leave and wants Sally to come with him back to Pennsylvania (she's actually from England). She's pregnant and has been living in a fantasy that it's Cliff's (it's not clear whose baby it is, but it's unlikely to be Cliff's). Sally doesn't want to leave Berlin - she loves it - and she's been invited back to preform at The Kit Kat Klub. Cliff doesn't want her to perform, he wants to marry her and start living like responsible adults. 

In many ways, Cliff is just as naïve as the other characters denying what's going on around them. Whereas he is politically knowledgeable, he isn't very good at understanding the people around him. Sally understands the world of performance and doesn't believe that anything else can touch her. It's just as much a fairytale as Cliff's vision of a long term relationship with her. He can't force Sally into a role she neither wants nor can thrive in. She wants to live life to the fullest, but not the longest.

That's the message of the song "Cabaret".

Cliff leaves Berlin alone, but with the barebones start of the novel that will make him famous. As he leaves, he starts to sing for the first time and is eventually overtaken by the Emcee. The Emcee reminds the audience that "Life is beautiful. The girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra is beautiful." The Emcee sings a similar song that he sang at the opening of the production, welcoming us in. However, this time the music is off. It more sinister sounding. 

The Emcee in the production I saw had his makeup smeared more and more as the Second Act went on. By the finally, it looks like he's been crying. Everyone came on stage. Three doors were opened. Herr Schultz stood in one. A gay couple in another. In the center was a lesbian couple fearfully holding each other. The background turned brilliantly white as the drumroll melded with a mysterious crackling sound. The smoke that had been hovering in the rafters now wafts on stage. The Emcee takes off his jacket and he's wearing a shirt with a pink triangle and a Star of David. He enters the center door with the lesbians. Three characters, a man dressed in a navy uniform, the owner of The Kit Kat Klub, and Ernst begin closing the doors while the other characters look away. Before his door is closed, the Emcee looks around as though begging someone for help.

The final door slams shut and the lights cut to black.

Cabaret is a tragedy. One that most people should realize going in. It takes place in Germany between two World Wars. Anyone who has taken a modern World History class knows what's about to happen to the majority of these characters. Cliff even asks Herr Schultz why he doesn't go to America with everything is going on - he has family there. But Herr Schultz wants to stay in Germany because it is his home and he is German. He is also Jewish. 

The Kit Kat Klub was lively, counter culture, and perverse, but it also accommodated and catered to people who hated them. In the end, it was destroyed. The fairytale turned into a nightmare.

Fräulein Schneider asks the audience several times during the production "what would you do?" She's asking for the audience to put themselves in her shoes, to empathizes with her.

We live in interesting times and if they don't seem all that interesting, then maybe you're not paying that much attention to what is going on around you. If you've ever asked yourself what you might do during a certain historic event such as the Civil Rights Movement or the Vietnam War protests, what you might have done during the Salem Witch Trials or the aftermath of 9/11 (this one is for the Z generation). 

I've asked myself that many times - mostly when I was still in school. 

Some recent current events have provided me with some answers. I can't say that I'm happy 100% with the ones I've found.

There are so many reasons Cabaret is a fantastic work of art. It's dark and tragic, but also fun and lively. You know what the ending is for these characters, but that doesn't stop you from hoping that this time - this show - they'll get a happy ever after.

Until next week. 

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope y'all like hearing from me.

Welcome to Noir Falcons

 Please note that this blog post discusses a book that was written nearly a century ago and a movie that came out in the 40s. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of The Maltese Falcon, you have been warned.

I recently picked up a used copy of The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. The same Dashiell Hammett who wrote The Thin Man which was an early movie mystery series that had its own fandom.

I could continue on with this tangent, as I am also a fan of the Thin Man movies and book. However, I am meant to be writing about The Maltese Falcon - famous on its own as the pinnacle of noir stories - which came out a few years earlier.

The Maltese Falcon was written in serialized form between 1929 and 1930. It was published as a book in 1930 - just as the Great Depression was kicking into high gear. The movie came out roughly a decade later, in the midst of World War II. Though it doesn’t seem like a long time, the US was a very culturally different place in those short ten years.

Between 1930 and 1941, the United States rebounded from an economic disaster, ended prohibition with the 21st Amendment, entered the Second World War, transitioned from silent films to “talkies”, and implemented the Hayes Code (I promise the last one is relevant). 

My copy of the book seemed to have been modified a bit to better align the narrative with the movie’s timeline. Spade makes a few references to cases in the 1930s that shouldn’t be in the text if it was formally published in 1930. Thus, I don’t know how many other changes may have been made to my copy of the text. 

However, if my copy of the book only has the date changes, then the 1941 movie adaptation is incredibly good (with a few difference that would never get past the censors).

My introduction to The Maltese Falcon and the noir genre in general was through parodies. “Rugrats”, “Animaniacs”, and “Tiny Toons” all had an episode dedicated to noir. The “Rugrats” episode “Radio Daze” even has a “dingus” like the falcon called The Malties Woodchuck (so called because it was hiding malted milk balls). Additionally, “Star Trek: The Next Generation” had a few episodes where Captain Picard role-played as a Detective on the holodeck.

Additionally, film noir heavily influenced the characters Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit) and Helga Sinclair (Atlantis). Those two characters helped shape my understanding of what a “femme fetales” was. 

All of these media influences shaped my understanding of film noir and (more importantly for this blog post) The Maltese Falcon. Did my expectations match my experience?

Kind of…

There was plenty of mystery and fast talking, shady characters. Sam Spade is certainly a man’s man of a detective, but he’s also a cad - stringing along his partner’s widow is only the tip of the iceberg. Gutman is the greedy leader of the thieves, but he’s also not as brilliant or violent as I expected. The gunman Wilmer Cook actually has a personality in the book and movie instead of being a nameless, faceless entity. Joel Cairo’s character I mostly new from stills and promotion for the movie. 

But it’s Brigid O’Shaughnessy’s character that surprised me most. She may be smart and devious, but she’s nowhere near as confident as the femme fetales I’d become used to. Honestly, I find her a bit pathetic - likely an act to get Sam on her side, but even her confession and reactions at the end aren’t very strong. She kind of just stands there, teary eyed and trembling as Sam explains how he know she set him up. It’s not the reaction Jessica or Helga would have, that’s for sure.

Despite these breaks in expectations, I do see why The Maltese Falcon is the iconic book and movie that it is and its influence on the noir genre. It’s a good story about very flawed, despicable people (including Sam Spade). Humphrey Bogart bring likability to Sam Spade, but he isn’t a good guy - not in the slightest. 

Honestly, all of the actors in the movie version make the characters a lot more likable than their book counterparts. 

Additionally, there are changes from the book to the movie adaptation. Some scenes are shorten or skipped entirely. A few characters don’t make an appearance at all such as Spade’s lawyer and Gutman’s daughter. There are also a few things that had to either be implied or cut out entirely due to the Hayes Code (I said it would come back).

In the book, there are a few scenes describing naked or semi naked women. At one point Spade forces O’Shaughnessy strip in a bathroom to see if she had palmed $1000 from him. In another short (and stomach turning) scene has Spade finding Gutman’s daughter drugged out of her mind with only a robe on in a hotel room. The Hayes Code wouldn’t have allowed any of that in an American cinema.

And though it’s only hinted at though 40s cinema language, Spade does indeed have sex with O’Shaughnessy in the book. The scene picks up while he’s getting dressed, but it’s obvious they hooked up.

Finally, I need to talk about the other coding in the movie. The Queer Coding.

In the movie, Peter Lorre expertly plays the queer coded character Joel Cairo. In the book, there is no coding. Joel Cairo is called out for being gay right from his introduction. It’s not a flattering portrayal of gay people - Spade is quite awful to Cairo even before he knows he’s a villain. However, it is openly stated.

Additionally, it’s heavily implied that Cairo is in a relationship with the gunman Wilmer Cook. Something that isn’t present at all in the movie.

We can thank the Hayes Code for that omission as well.  This wouldn’t be the first or last time that queer characters would be smoothed out for cinema - this is why we have the term Queer Coding. Nor is it the first or last time that queer characters are used as villains in a story. The Hayes Code helped solidify these tropes and prevented growth for LGBTQIA+ characters in film for nearly all the 20th century.

Overall, I understand the appeal and importance of The Maltese Falcon to American cinema, pop culture, and genre. It helped to establish tropes and characters that are still easily recognizable today. I also find it dated. 

The book is easy to read and follow. The characters leave a lot to be desired, but they are fully realized, complex characters.

It’s a story to be appreciated for its place and time in American culture. It certainly established Bogart as a leading man.

Could it be updated for modern audiences? No idea. There are apparently really bad adaptations (including a romantic comedy in 1935) and a very close 1931 adaptation that included scenes that couldn’t be shown at all to audiences (the strip search I mentioned above). There was also a parody sequel released in the 70s.

And even if it could be adapted for a modern audience, would we want it to be?

I don’t think I would.

Let me know in the comments what your favorite noir (played straight or parody) is. Who Framed Roger Rabbit is probably mine.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you like hearing from me.

Until next week.