BME: Body Modification Ezine

A tattooed person suspends from hooks, laying flat, one leg higher than the other. Their head is back, and they seem to be smiling, dark hair dangling like an anime character.

Celebrating body modification culture since 1994.

Category: Features

  • What About When You’re Eighty?

    Written by

    BME

    What About When You’re Eighty?

    “Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are cheese.”

    – Billie Burke

    The Lizardman Q&A columns have been a lot of fun but also a little repetitious of late. So, I have been trying to think of things and ways to make them a bit more fun and new again. Quite frankly, I was at a loss and not sure I was going to do one at all this month. Fortunately, inspiration struck in the form of a comment in one of my journal entry forums by IAM:saram.

    The entry (IAM members click here to read it) had been about doing things (body modification or not) on the basis of true personal individual motivation rather than as a result of wanting to fit in or not fit in as the case may be. Sara posted to the effect that she thought these arguments were silly, as I did, and then wrote:

    I find other repetitive questions to be far more interesting, like, “How will you feel about [a mod] when you’re eighty?” It’s a silly question, but at least it’s more thought-provoking.

    As a result, I then and there promised an article on that very question and realized something that would, at least to me, be a fun potential series of columns. As already stated, the following will be a discussion of that often related query, “what about when you are eighty?” In future months I will be posting other repetitive questions on my IAM page and letting people vote on the next one that I should address. And for fans of the old freestyle Q&A, I am sure it will make a return sometime soon as well.

    So, what about when I am, or you are, or anyone else is eighty?


    Will women still swoon over an aging Lizardman in 50 years?

    I do get asked this question a lot. Most often the motivating factor behind it seems to be a concern or allegation that I have not really considered the consequences and rushed into things. Of course, this is very far from the truth. I spent nearly four years developing, designing, and considering what I was getting into before ever getting tattooed. Even once I had started I broke my overall project up into sections that would allow me reasonable ‘exit points’ if I changed my mind for some unforeseen reason. This means that I spent more time considering this than some people spend together before getting married or having kids. Ask yourself seriously if you think it is more foolhardy to publicly tattoo yourself or to bring a life into the world without forethought?

    Explaining all of this and adding that last bit for perspective is often more than enough to satisfy the inquisitor, but if I look at it carefully it does not really answer the question asked — it simply dissolves it by addressing the concerns that motivated the question. Philosophically, being of a Wittgensteinian bent, I love this. But, let’s try actually answering the question itself.

    When I am eighty, or however old I live to be since eighty is just an arbitrary age which most people would throw out as a point of getting reflective, being potentially on the way out (which is rather pessimistic since I fully plan on living well past a century), what will it be like to have been tattooed, pierced, and otherwise altered? Obviously, there will be some physical degeneration — that is part of aging despite the best efforts of technology, medicine, and lifestyle. I actually look forward to aging, to living through the process. My modifications may have some unforeseen implications but that’s half the fun (some wrinkling could potentially make scales look that much cooler) and not a deterrent unless they are seriously debilitating. In a somewhat analogous way, I would point to people getting their ears pierced and wearing the very common French hook style jewelry — would putting up pictures of old women’s ears who have been slowly ‘cheese cut’ over decades of wearing these earrings put an end to mall piercing stands? Hardly. The doctor who split my tongue mentioned doing a brisk business of re-working the ears of people who had worn so called ‘normal’ earrings throughout their lives — a nice thing to point out since many of the inquisitors have just such piercings.

    The more I think about it, I just don’t believe that people asking the question are at all concerned with a direct answer such as the above. They are more thinking about what type of life you will be leading as you age and what you will be doing to support yourself or such when you reach that ripe age. Even more so, I am all but convinced that the vast majority of people who pose this question are simply looking to play out a superiority trip and accuse people with body modifications of throwing away their lives in some way — especially when it is asked with the implication of future regret.

    So what about regrets and quality of life for the modified? Well, it seems like quality of life need not be a problem at all if people would simply be polite and open minded enough to accept that a modified appearance is not necessarily an indicator of much more than personal aesthetic preference. The problem is not my modifications, but your ignorance and prejudice. Given a moment of rational clarity I would hope most people would prefer the eradication of close minded ignorance (on all subjects) to that of something as potentially positive and affirming as body modification. Most regrets will likely fall from the same tree.

    Now given that I am not entirely naïve to the world, despite my best efforts to be, and I hope you aren’t either I will discuss regret a bit more pragmatically — regardless of body modification. Wondering ‘what if’ seems to be a wholly natural and likely universal activity for people and is not the same as regret. Often when wondering ‘what if’ you may imagine a scenario much grander than your current reality but this should not necessarily lead to regret. I can honestly say that I have absolutely no regrets at this point in my life because even in those situations where I can ‘what if’ myself into much nicer scenarios for myself and others I still made the best decision I could given my knowledge and options at the time. Just because I look back now at what I know to be bad decisions, I do not regret them since being the exact same situation at that same time again I would do the same thing. Hindsight is 20/20 but unless you intentionally acted in a way you knew to be wrong I do not see cause for regret.

    I cannot guarantee that you or I will be happy when we are older but if we act in the best manner we have known and available to us I have very high hopes.

    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2004 BMEZINE.COM. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published August 26th, 2004 by BMEZINE.COM in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.


  • Bena Video Interview [Guest Column]

    Written by

    BME


    Bena

    Video interview by Allen Falkner

    Over the past few years, my path has crossed with Bena’s several times. However, it was not until the Oslo suscon that I really got a chance to get to know him. Although quiet at first, I soon found Bena to be a witty, intelligent and an extremely articulate individual. From his spirit to his drive to his dedication, I would have to credit Bena as being one of the bigger assets our community has to date.

    Bena is a Swedish body modification enthusiast and suspension practitioner that’s works by day as a caregiver for the handicapped. Visit bena on IAM.

    The interview below was shot, edited, and conducted by Allen Falkner with additional (not very good) editing by Shannon Larratt.

    Choose your format (video is just over four minutes long):
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    Allen Falkner (iam:Allen Falkner) is a body piercer with well over a decade of experience and is the owner of Obscurities in Dallas, TX. He is one of the founders of the modern body suspension movement as the progenitor of TSD (and now suspension.org). Allen is credited with the invention — and naming — of much of what people take for granted in modern suspension (including the knee suspension, his signature piece). He’s also a talented photographer and is married to his muse Masuimi Max.

    Online presentation copyright © 2004 Allen Falkner and BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online August 26th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Interview took place in Oslo, Norway in August 2004.

  • Muffe Vulnuz Video Interview [Guest Column]

    Written by

    BME


    Muffe Vulnuz

    COPENHAGEN BODY EXTREMES
    Video interview by Allen Falkner


    “The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and he has to wonder through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.”


    – Rabindranath
    Tagore


    I just returned from the Wings of Desire suspension convention in Oslo, Norway. Attendees from eight countries — Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Belgium, England, USA, and Russia — (and almost as many languages) met for lectures, performances, and suspensions.

    Muffe Vulnuz, a self-proclaimed “crusty punk” from Denmark, is definitely one of the most interesting people I met while attending the Oslo Suscon. Muffe is the owner and piercer of Copenhagen’s Body Extremes as well as a suspension practitioner and performance artist. Honestly, there were too many wonderful people from convention to list them all, but if I had to narrow it down, I would say that Muffe was one of my favorite people I met that weekend.

    Thanks as well to my hosts Håvve (iam:bleeding) and Christiane (iam:christiane).

    The interview below was shot, edited, and conducted by Allen Falkner with additional editing by Shannon Larratt. Performance video footage (the intro and pip footage) is c/o Muffe — you can download it on its own and see other pictures at his website bodyextremes.com… or visit him in Copenhagen!

    Choose your format (video is seven and a half minutes long):
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    High quality: 480×360 46 meg Apple Quicktime DOWNLOAD



    Allen Falkner (iam:Allen Falkner) is a body piercer with well over a decade of experience and is the owner of Obscurities in Dallas, TX. He is one of the founders of the modern body suspension movement as the progenitor of TSD (and now suspension.org). Allen is credited with the invention — and naming — of much of what people take for granted in modern suspension (including the knee suspension, his signature piece). He’s also a talented photographer and is married to his muse Masuimi Max.

    Online presentation copyright © 2004 Shannon Larratt, Allen Falkner, and BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published online August 18th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Interview took place in Oslo, Norway in August 2004.

  • Stelarc Video Interview: TransVision 2004 [The Publisher’s Ring]

    Written by

    Shannon Larratt


    Stelarc Video Interview
    TRANSVISION 2004 COVERAGE: PART TWO


    “We mostly operate as Absent Bodies. That’s because a body is designed to interface with its environment — its sensors are open-to-the-world (compared to its inadequate internal surveillance system). The body’s mobility and navigation in the world require this outward orientation. Its absence is augmented by the fact that the body functions habitually and automatically. Awareness is often that which occurs when the body malfunctions.”

    – Stelarc

    Australian performance artist Stelarc has been doing public suspensions since the 1970s. He is literally the first face many people who are now “elders” in the suspension movement came in contact with, although his use of suspension is very different than the standard we seem to have settled on more recently.

    In 1987, two years before RE/search released Modern Primitives, Adam Parfrey’s Apocalypse Culture hit the shelves. My father bought me a copy, highlighted the opening quote — “There is nothing more terrifying than stupidity – Werner Herzog” — and that now beat up copy still rests on my bookshelf. Amid articles on eugenics, nuclear war, modern fascist movments, schizophrenia, and child molestation, was an interview with Fakir Musafar somewhat derisively discussing Stelarc.

    While they’d later find a common ground for discussion, at the time Fakir was none-too-kind, writing,


    “He has a tremendous amount of guts, but I think his civilization varnish has not been scrubbed enough. He is capable of enduring things longer than he does. If he hung for a longer length of time, he’d have a mystical experience. I can’t help to think that he may have had one or been on the border and it scared the hell out of him. So he limits the length and calls it art. What he’s dabbling in is magic technology.”

    But it was enough to get a generation desperate to find literature on something that was calling to them seeking out Stelarc. A few years earlier (1984) Stelarc had released Obsolete Body: Suspensions, a book of writing and photos on flesh hook suspension, using the body as a sculptural installation in various art spaces (and public spaces as well). As much as Fakir expressed dismay at Stelarc’s refusal to embrace the spiritual application of suspension, Stelarc had become — without even knowing it at the time — one of the modern suspension movement’s godfathers. Back then, only he and Fakir were out there doing it publicly and sharing their experiences.


    TOKYO – 11 MAY 1980. PHOTO: KENJI NOZAWA


    “The insertions were done with the body laying on the floor, below a halo of rocks which had been suspended from eye-bolts in the ceiling with slip-knots. When everything was connected the cords were tugged, releasing the rocks. As the rocks came down, the body went up. The body started to gently sway from side to side, triggering random oscillations of the ring of rocks. Everything was in motion, balanced and buoyant. Everything was connected and and contained. Thoughts of obsolescence flickering in and out of the silence. The telephone rings. Murmurs. Distractions. Sitting, suspended and anxious.”



    MUNICH – 8 AUGUST 1977
    PHOTO: HAROLD RUMPF

    TOKYO – 12 MARCH 1978
    PHOTO: TONY FIGALLO



    TOKYO – 2 MARCH 1980
    PHOTO: NINA KUO



    MIURA – 30 MAY 1981

    PHOTO: ICHIRO YAMANA



    YOKOHAMA – 29 MAY 1988
    PHOTO: SIMON HUNTER
    STELARC’S FINAL SUSPENSION

    I finally had a chance to meet with Stelarc in person at TransVision 2004 in Toronto (click here for part one of our TransVision coverage) where he was giving a presentation on his work. Stelarc is friendly and approachable, and most of all down to earth with an easy boisterous laugh. At his talk he covered everything from his early suspension work (which ended in 1988, a decade before the suspension mainstream would boom) and “third hand” experiments (a fully functional third hand, controlled by nerves in other parts of his body).



    TOKYO – 8 MAY 1981
    PHOTO: JUN MORIOKA

    TOKYO – 22 MAY 1982
    PHOTO: AKIRO OKADA


    “Whilst the body activates its extra manipulator, the real left arm is remote-controlled and jerked into action by two muscle stimulators. Electrodes positioned on the flexor muscles and biceps curl the fingers inwards, bend the wrist and thrust the arm upwards. The triggerings of the arm motions pace the performance and the stimulator signals are used as sound sources, as is the motor sound of the Third Hand mechanism itself.”

    Stelarc also discussed his exoskeletons and robot appendages, and his work with electric muscle stimulation, including pulling “volunteers” out of the audience, wiring them to his control box, and forcing them to dance — any attempt to resist his commands were met with pain, increased voltage, and eventually failure as they involuntarily moved exactly as he choreographed. In previous performances Stelarc has wired himself with these devices and been controlled by both audiences and other factors like Internet ping times.



    “During the Ping Body performances, what is being considered is a body moving not to the promptings of another body in another place, but rather to Internet activity itself — the body’s proprioception and musculature stimulated not by its internal nervous system but by the external ebb and flow of data. Ping values from 0-2000 milliseconds (indicative of both distance and density levels of Internet activity) are used to activate a multiple muscle stimulator directing 0-60 volts to the body. Thus ping values that indicate spatial and time parameters of the Internet choreograph and compose the performances. A graphical interface of limb motions simulates and initiates the physical body’s movements. This, in turn, generates sounds mapped to proximity, positioning and bending of the arms and legs.”

    Stelarc also showed some of the work he’s been doing on his “third ear” project, in which a replica of his own ear will be implanted into another part of his body — instead of listening though, this ear may talk instead. Helped by Oron Catts and Ionat Zurr of Tissue Culture & Art, Stelarc has been “growing” these replica ears inside biotumblers as his own cells permeate a polymer latice. Finally, Stelarc also showed his avatar projects (an Alice-based communication system coupled with a very creepy animation of his head), allowing computers to speak on his behalf as him.

    After TransVision, Stelarc and I were able to sit down for an interview to talk both about his suspension work and his other art. I’d like to present that video now. It’s 45 minutes long so the file sizes are quite large. Please save it to your computer, rather than trying to view it in your browser!

    Choose your format:
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    Low quality: 320×240 37 meg Apple Quicktime DOWNLOAD
    High quality: 480×360 132 meg Windows Media DOWNLOAD
    High quality: 480×360 124 meg Apple Quicktime DOWNLOAD

    That’s actually the first real video I’ve edited using Avid, so I apologize for any errors. While you’re waiting for it to download, I’d like to strongly urge you to go and browse Stelarc’s website at www.stelarc.va.com.au, as the interview assumes a basic knowledge of his work. Not only is Stelarc one of the seeds of the suspension movement, but he’s also an important seed in cyborg culture, distributed intelligence, technoethics, and other fields he likely never knew he was even performing for.

    Edit/Update (October 2012) – I’ve posted this to YouTube here:

    Thanks to Stelarc of course, and to Philip Barbosa for videotaping the interview and presentation, and thanks to Bo De Duyen for allowing us to film there. Thank you as well to everyone from BetterHumans and the WTA for inviting us in the first place.


    Shannon Larratt
    BME.com

  • TransVision 2004 Coverage: Part One [The Publisher’s Ring]

    Written by

    Shannon Larratt


    TransVision 2004 Coverage
    PART ONE: A RAMBLING OVERVIEW OF TV2004

    “Transhumanism is a way of thinking about the future that is based on the premise that the human species in its current form does not represent the end of our development but rather a comparatively early phase.”

    – Prof. Nick Bostrom, Oxford University

       

    IMAGE SIDEBAR

    Below are a few photos we took at TransVision. I felt a little bit like a “science groupie” asking people to let me take a photo with them, but hey, it was exciting for me! I should also note that in this article I’ve barely skimmed the surface of most of these brilliant minds — I strongly encourage you to check out their websites and google them for more.


    Steve Mann (wearcam.org) speaking about wearable computing, glogging, and sousveillance. I really urge you to visit his websites to learn more about how he’s augmenting and mediating the human experience using a cyborg body.


    João Pedro de Magalhães of Harvard Medical School talking about his work in trying to find — and one day cure — the genetic causes of aging. You can see in this picture how unfortunately empty the event was.




    Dr. Rafal Smigrodski (Gencia Corporation) talking about his work on mtDNA replacement which could cure diseases such as Parkinson’s, Alzheimers, and diabetes, as well as dramatically extending lifespans.




    Biogerontologist Aubrey de Grey talking about life extension by “cleaning” our cells of the toxic aggregates that our bodies are currently unable to deal with. Great beard, great mind.


    Allen Randall’s talk on “Quantum Miracles and Immortality” included discussion of a number of amusing thought experiments. In simple terms, quantum theory suggests that all possible states exist at once (ie. there are multiple worlds, like in that show Quantum Leap). Therefore, if you try to kill yourself in a way that has an (impossibly high) high chance of success in every one of these worlds, only the immortals survive — thus creating a quantum state that favors your immortality. I’m not really sure if this talk was supposed to be serious or just really funny, but I enjoyed it and I’ve always been a sucker for philosopher mathematicians.


    Torsten Nahm from Bonn, Germany talking about aging, and arguing that being biological (wetware) sucks because of that aging. By moving into a digital form, we can become immortal, make backups of ourselves, experiment with different lives, and anything else we’d like. However, we need to decide whether the transition from one form of being to another involves not only rebirth, but death.


    Ben Hyink’s talk on preserving network integrity during the process of uploading. That is, how do you keep an entity alive and conscious as it transitions into a new body? Unfortunately like many of the plenary talks, Ben was not able to fit all of his interesting ideas into the allotted time.


    Anders Sandberg introducing Nick Bostrom’s closing talk. I first interviewed Anders for BME back in I think 1996. Anders’s enthusiastic online promotion of transhumanism has introduced thousands and thousands of people to a more forward-leaning way of thinking. I really liked Anders, although I only got to speak to him briefly. Super nice guy… actually, everyone I met at the event was really nice.




    Nick Bostrom of Oxford University and the WTA puts transhumanism — and our need to embrace it — in simple and convincing terms in his closing talk. Nick is also the author of the transhumanism FAQ which is an excellent introduction to the subject along with Anders’s pages.

    With George Dvorsky of Betterhumans, one of my hosts (Simon had already slipped out; I’d hoped to include both of them). As well as his work with Betterhumans, you may also want to check out his personal site and blog.


    With Rudi Hoffman, “Cryonics Insurance Specialist”. I really got a kick out of Rudi — as much as he’s a real cliché of a salesman, he’s a a lot of fun and an incredibly enthusiastic spokesman for jumping into the future by jumping into a vat of liquid nitrogen. Contact Rudi if you’re trying to find an affordable way to have your brain — or entire body — frozen Futurama-style.


    A group photo taken near the end of the event. Shannon Bell is on the far left (when I mentioned that Shannon had joined us to friends, they were extremely excited — she has a reputation for being one of the best professors you can have at York University, as well as being a distinguished author and researcher). In the middle of the front row is Stelarc who you’ll meet in more detail in part two of this article, and between them is José Luis Cordeiro who will be hosting TransVision 2004 in Caracas, Venezuela.


    Transhumanism, at its simplest, is a way of thinking and being that embraces the idea that our experience as homo sapiens is just one small step in an ongoing evolution, and that we should take an active rather than passive role in “making ourselves better”. Transhumanists are a mix of philosophers, futurists, sci-fi buffs, and bona fide scientists advocating ideas such as uploading (the transfer of consciousness into computers), genetic enhancement, immortality, machine-human integration, and nanotechnology. Body modification culture lies on a related path and represents a real-world application of breaking the biological mold and transforming ourselves into something we perceive as “better” than what nature gave us.

    TransVision, the yearly convention of the World Transhumanist Association, took place in Toronto, Canada for 2004 and BME was there thanks to an invitation from our friends over at BetterHumans. It took me a moment to actually figure out where it was being held, because nowhere on their website did it list an address or even the name of the building that was being used — but, after a bit of googling for the JRR McLeod Auditorium, we made our way to the University of Toronto Medical Sciences Building.

    The conference had drawn speakers from all over the world — a sizable European and Scandinavian contingent, South Americans, and of course plenty of Canadians and Americans. It seemed to touch on every demographic from young fashionable cyberpunk kids, übergeeks, scientists, artists, and one seeming half-wit conspiracy nut that asked “how many methods of human improvement are there”, besides “chemical augmentation” (which he certainly seemed to be enjoying) at every talk he attended. One thing that surprised me was how empty the event was and how few people other than the speakers seemed to be there — many of the talks I would attend had less than twenty people sitting in the auditorium, with most of the seats empty.

    After picking up our press passes, Phil Barbosa (who’d joined me to help film the event) and I went to the front row to wait for the opening talk by Steve Mann to begin. Steve Mann is the real deal. A genuine geek that looks every bit the part, Steve Mann has lived with wearable computing and camera technology since the mid 1970s and is a leading — and seed — researcher in these fields. He’s vehemently anti-corporation, is a political activist on surveillance issues, as well as being an environmentalist using guerrilla installations of solar cells and wind turbines.

    Mann concentrated his talk on what he’s best known for: glogging, or “cyborg logging”, a form of literature (if that’s the right word) that predates but closely resembles blogging and moblogging and mandates that the glogger extend their body and consciousness into artificial and reconfigurable appendages. Using his wearable computing and media system, sometimes in collaboration with other cyborgs, he explores, documents, and shares his view of the world he sees. His inverse surveillance or sousveillance (“watching from below”) regularly brings him in conflict with those watching from above — he observes that those who run their own surveillance cameras are usually those most offended at his sousveillance of them in return. Mann went on to talk about “dusting”, a slightly improved version of an additive compositing technique that’s been in common use since the beginning of photography, which he seemed to think was important. This illustrated one of the pitfalls about becoming so engrossed in personalized technology while being heralded as the primogenitor — a difficulty in recognizing or taking seriously work done by other researchers.

    As much as Steve Mann gave a largely brilliant talk, it also illustrated a fundamental problem in passing knowledge and ideas from hardcore geek culture to the mainstream: it’s not that charismatic (Reason magazine described Mann as “rather creepy” and spoke of him derisively in their event report). Steve displays a sense of humor that’s highly personal and a difficulty in communicating with other humans, which is genuinely ironic given the amazing tools he’s helped developed to facilitate these communications. His websites are ugly and primitive, the photos of him wearing his inventions are “unflattering” to say the least, and he uses common terms in ways that are awkward and unconventional (such as his insistence that Linux and other open source programs are not software, because wares are items of commerce — better tell that to the open source software movement). The best chefs understand that the way they present their dish greatly affects diners perception of it… Scientists need to embrace the reality of human interaction and start to include marketing as an important part of transhumanist dialog. Body modification for example is successful not just because it’s “right”, but also because it’s cool and accessible.

    The title of Steve Mann’s talk had been “Glogging: Sousveillance, Cyborglogs, and the right to self-modification.” The right to self-modification is of course something that I’m very concerned about since it affects the readers of BME (and myself) on a daily basis, and is one of the key points where transhumanism and body modification intersect. Ultimately if we’re going to leap forward from these dirty ape fleshbag bodies of ours, we have to embrace the right of every individual to transform themselves in any way they see fit, be it a split tongue or be it a robotic tongue. Unfortunately, Mann hadn’t mentioned a word about it in the talk, which I found odd given that it was part of the title, so I asked him about it afterwards — given that in many parts of the Western world, even traditional “self-modification” like tattooing is illegal, was there any movement inside transhumanist circles to politically fight for the right to self-modification?

    While Mann didn’t know of any such battle, he does have an interesting counter-attack to those who tell him he has to remove the electronic parts of his body — he says “sure, but only if you sign this form assuming liability if I’m injured due to not having them.” It’s a curious idea — if an augmented human is “more” than an unaugmented human, does that mean that in relative terms a normal human is handicapped? Is taking a cyborg’s electronics away the same as telling someone they can’t wear their glasses, or can’t ride on their electric wheelchair? Since we can always improve, where does one draw the line — and should one draw such a line at all? If we’re thinking along such paths, is not genetically improving your child a modern form of child abuse? Or will political correctness force us to define “human” as “stupid and limited, and that’s how we like it?”

    Later in the conference I attended a talk by Dr. Rafal Smigrodski, a specialist in mitochondrial genome manipulation. In “how to buy new mitochondria for your old body” he describes what he believes could add a decade or more to people’s lifespans, as well as curing many mitochondrial disorders using a technique not so different from the Keith Richards urban legend in which he solves his heroin addiction by flying to Switzerland where all of his blood is removed and completely replaced with new, healthy, and unaddicted blood. Dr. Smigrodski touched on the right to self-modify issue as well, pointing out that he’s been forced to concentrate his research on those with diseases or otherwise improperly functioning physical forms — and that convincing governments that aging is a disease will be far from an easy thing, even though aging appears to be a terminal condition that we all suffer from. I think it was Nick Bostrom that would say later in his closing remarks that most people have a Stockholm Syndrome type relationship with aging, whereby they give artificial value to that which has imprisoned them.

    From my point of view, the right to self-modify is something that transhumanist researchers should be embracing. It’s all well and good to develop technologies that ease the suffering from extremely rare disorders, and maybe that gives us “expendable” people to experiment on (it’s a terrible way to put it, but if we use the ill as fair game to do our early experiments on, that is what we’re doing), but until these technologies are available in unrestricted form to the general public, they’re not particularly transhumanist. Perhaps I’m speaking callously, but in my opinion, if we’re to move humanity forward, we should be concentrating on transforming the best of humanity into something even more, rather than trying to alleviate suffering in that tiny, tiny minority of people who are born with terminal or crippling diseases.

    Aubrey de Grey as well gave a fascinating talk on “removing toxic aggregates that our cells can’t break down”, but he as well must face these same issues — how do you start using these technologies to enhance humans, rather than just fixing them when they break? I don’t want to keep repairing my old Ford Escort… I want an upgrade to a flying Lamborghini.

    I’d come into the conference assuming that most transhumanists shared my own views: that we should be aggressively transforming humans into the things we dreamed of as children slumbering after spending the day reading science fiction, beings with far more power and options than we have as humans. However, there’s certainly no agreement inside transhumanism that this is the right goal. Mark Walker, editor of the Journal of Evolution and Technology and research fellow at Trinity College, spoke on the Genetic Virtue Program which he proposes is “the only hope on the horizon that humans might remove themselves from the slaughter bench of history.”

    The basic idea is that since behavior is at least thirty to forty percent inherited (so you will act like your parents) and thus genetic in nature, that by using genetic manipulation we can, in time, breed a race of humans that are more compassionate and loving, and less aggressive, greedy, and prone to lying (and presumably sinning). While there is a certain truth to Walker’s proposals, the idea of using science to limit humans rather than expand them wasn’t really received that well by the audience. I pointed out that historically progress tends to be made by selfish, aggressive, and sometimes even “evil” people, and that breeding a society of well behaved losers might not be in our best interests as a species. One neurologist in the crowd pointed out that the ability to lie was an important part of an advanced mind, closely linked to the ability to consider different variations on the same idea, and that attempts to genetically force moral behavior might have to sacrifice intelligence in exchange — but Walker’s ideas certainly underscore the fact that there are a myriad of ways to move humanity forward (as well as many definitions of “forward”), and that transhumanism covers a very broad range of politics and faiths.

    As is probably clear, I enjoy the hard science, and I believe that we must embrace the absolute right to use that science to better ourselves. To me, that’s the whole point — if all science does for us is fix people who are born “broken”, then we’re actually moving in the wrong direction. While I certainly hope that we can care for all people, if resources are going to be poured into improving humanity, I’d like to see it poured into improving the best humans, thereby moving us into the future. Because of this, I was looking forward to seeing Natasha Vita-More’s “posthuman prototypes debate their own design.”

    When Natasha got on stage, more flash bulbs went off than at any other talk I’d been to. With zoom lenses fully erect, an army of transhumanist men showed they were still slaves to testosterone — Natasha lives in a transhumanist body herself with obviously “augmented” mammalian features and a clear attention to fitness and form. I don’t say this to be crass — the mass appeal of extreme cosmetic surgery is very relevant to transhumanist bodies and I was looking forward to hearing her thoughts on it. Unfortunately her talk was rubbish and full of sloppy thinking and inadequate research. She’d “interviewed” a number of fictional and non-fictional post humans, including her own imaginary creation “Primo”, Agent Smith from The Matrix, and Honda’s Asimo robot.

    She “asked” these entities what they thought about themselves, humans, and so on, and in her answers made it clear that she had little comprehension of the technology involved, and was primarily interested in making her own sadly uninformed comments. Most obviously she claimed that Asimo was a primitive machine that could do no more than walk up and down stairs, a foolish statement to put it politely. Her commentary on the other technologies was equally ignorant, and her own “Primo” creation showed that she couldn’t even use the terminology correctly (ever get annoyed at the technobabble in Star Trek?) let alone illustrate it in a way that anyone can take that seriously — even if you’re just an “artist”, you still have the responsibility to understand the language you’re speaking. This saddened me, because Natasha is clearly a brilliant and creative women, but she disgraces herself when she speaks so foolishly.

    Unfortunately Natasha was not the only person speaking this way at TransVision. I suppose that’s to be expected when you have a wide range of people commenting on such a diverse subject, but what disturbed me about it was that few inside transhumanism seem to have the courage to shout out “the emperor wears no clothes”, but instead seem to prefer a circle-jerk where everyone congratulates each other on how clever they are with little willingness to look at the thoughts critically — although they’ll galdly rip to shreds outsiders who criticize them.

    In my opinion, transhumanism doesn’t need ill-informed people who go off on flights of “what if” fancy. You know what? All of us have been doing that since we were five years old. What transhumanism needs is transhumanists. Not people who talk about. People who do it. I have enormous respect for people like Steve Mann and Stelarc (or Todd Huffman with his magnetic vision) who are actually out there living transhuman lives and having transhumanist experiences, rather than just talking about them without any first-hand knowledge, as well as the scientists doing the foundation research that will make it possible. I am not convinced that the philosophers and artists are any different from science fiction authors — an important element in inspiring people to live as transhumanists, but no more than that.

    As much as the conference was utterly unpromoted and almost unattended, there was an abundance of fascinating characters. Sitting next to me at several of the events was the boisterous and friendly Rudi Hoffman who was there selling life insurance for those seeking cryogenic suspension with Alcor — for about $40 a month you can buy an insurance policy ensuring that upon death you’ll be frozen a la Han Solo. Unfortunately the insurance doesn’t cover the cost of bringing you back to life — it’s hoped that future generations will do so for you. But still, your chances for reincarnation, as slim as they may be, are a lot better if you’re preserved in a vat of liquid nitrogen than if you’re rotting in a pine box buried in the ground.

    Also sitting next to me — in the front row — for several of the talks was a tall, slender Asian man with a big bag of groceries. Oblivious to those around him, he prepared and ate several salads and fruit dishes, carefully weighing them and then entering them into a spreadsheet on his laptop as he ate, afterwards spending ten minutes loudly flossing his teeth. This seemed to me to be a strange thing to do, and by their strained glances at him, I think some of the speakers were debating whether or not they were being insulted. Later I discovered that he believed that in order to best achieve longevity one should adopt a paleolithic diet, since that’s what our bodies are presumably evolved to survive on.

    Meeting José Luis Cordeiro, the host of TransVision 2005 (to be held in Caracas, Venezuela) was rewarding as well. Cordeiro has written extensively on both transhumanism and the socio-political future of Latin America, but even though his books sell well from Mexico southward, he’s had little luck reaching the North American market — as he opined in a seminar on writing transhumanist books (moderated by Simon Smith) information flows out of America, but rarely in. I believe that Cordeiro is exactly what transhumanism needs — an optimist (but a realist) with a technical background, and with a sense of humor and the charisma required to present far-out ideas to the general public.

    All this said, I really must encourage readers to take advantage of events like TransVision when they happen in your area. Don’t underestimate the value of getting to meet world class thinkers — even the ones you disagree with — in person. Don’t underestimate the value of introducing yourself into dialogs you might otherwise not be able to have. As much as I didn’t think much of a few of the presenters, the ones I disagreed with the most are also the ones that got me thinking aggressively about where humanity is going and how we should take it there.

    Finally, if I could say one thing to transhumanists in general, it is to follow Steve Mann and Stelarc’s example and make it real. Don’t just talk about far future fantasies. Taking the first step may not be as fantastical as masturbating over the year 3000, but it’s the only way that we can force transhuman evolution without being restricted by governments and corporations, who will act in the best interests of nationalism and capitalism, rather than humanity’s future. While it’s true that we’ll see the occasional Mr. Hyde as a result, I call out to Bruce Banner: it’s time to irradiate yourself.


    Shannon Larratt
    BME.com

  • The World’s First Piercing Magazine [Running The Gauntlet – By Jim Ward]

    Written by

    BME

    VIII. The World’s First Piercing Magazine

    Chronologically this article should have preceded the previous one because Gauntlet had published several issues of its piercing magazine before the opening of the store. The reason for the slight detour will be explained a little later.

    When I first started Gauntlet, publishing a piercing magazine couldn’t have been further from my mind. But it quickly presented itself as a very natural aspect of the work I was doing. As piercing enthusiasts began hearing about Gauntlet, a typical type of correspondence started to arrive in the mail on a regular basis.

    Up to that time people who were into piercing were pretty much on their own. If they wanted a piercing they had to figure out how to do it themselves or get a sympathetic friend to assist them. There was no readily available resource for information on piercing technique or for the tools and materials to do it. In general the results were less than satisfactory. Piercing enthusiasts were also widely scattered all over the globe and for the most part very closeted.

    Consequently many of the letters I received contained the same two questions: First, how do I pierce my or my girl/boyfriend’s insert name of piercing here? Second, how do I go about meeting other people into the scene? Needless to say answering these questions repeatedly made it quickly apparent that there had to be an easier, more professional way to meet the demand. The obvious solution was a magazine. Since there was clearly a growing interest in piercing, why not?

    My artistic background aside, I had no knowledge or experience along this line. Perhaps if I had, I might have thought twice about pursuing the matter, but like a rushing fool I began making plans and gathering the information and resources I needed.

    Early in the days of the T&P group, someone had suggested we call ourselves “Piercing Fans International.” The name never stuck in no small part because the members were pretty much people who lived in the Los Angeles area. However, when I was trying to think of a name for the magazine I remembered the suggestion. Finding enough material to put out a monthly would have been a major challenge, but a quarterly seemed within the realm of possibility. So the magazine quite naturally became Piercing Fans International Quarterly, or PFIQ for short.

    Doug was an avid photographer, especially where piercing was concerned. Although he had a fine camera and some basic skill in using it, his philosophy was that if you took enough photos, some of them were bound to turn out. Consequently he spared no opportunity to take lots of pictures of piercings and pierced people whenever he had a chance. I had free access to these and figured that they would provide an ongoing source of material for the magazine.

    Under Doug’s influence I also went out and bought a good camera and spent some time learning how to use it. After all, Doug wasn’t always around when a photo opportunity presented itself.

    A regular contributor to the magazine was a local gay artist who went by the name of Bud. His work occupied thirteen of the first fourteen covers and after we went to color appeared regularly inside. I had seen his work in the gay S/M magazine Drummer. How we actually met and connected, I’ve forgotten. I do remember that he did some tattoo designs for some clients of Cliff Raven, a T&P group regular. Bud’s imaginative pen and ink drawings show the strong influence of both comic and early fantasy and sci-fi art.

      


    Doug’s holiday card circa 1977.

    Doug was very taken with Bud’s work and even commissioned him to do a watercolor Christmas card design to send out to his piercing enthusiast friends. It shows a pair of pierced cherubs playing musical instruments. Fortunately Doug left the small painting in my care otherwise it probably would have been destroyed by his wife after his death.

    By September of 1977 I had managed to assemble what I thought would be enough material for the inaugural issue. It seemed only natural that this issue should contain an interview with Doug. He was, in my eyes at least, the man responsible for setting everything in motion. There was also an article about male infibulation entitled “The Story of Nils.” It was one of Doug’s stories and included photos he had taken of a T&P group member who went by the name of Viking Navaro. To round out the primary content there were about a dozen photographs by an Australian photographer named Johnny Lee. Just how Doug had obtained them I don’t know, but they were all of attractive pierced women, a couple with pierced nipples, but most with ear or nostril piercings. They had the look and feel of photos dating from the 50s.

    With all the requests I’d received from people wanting to meet others into body piercing, it was clear the magazine needed classified ads. I called these “Pin Pal” ads. The original intent was just to make them part of the content, but on further consideration I realized it would be better to print them separately and mail them with the magazine, not in it. There were several reasons. Initially we allowed people to include addresses and phone numbers in their ads. But since privacy was an issue, it would have meant not being able to sell the magazine on newsstands. The other reason was one of cost. It would have been a lot more expensive to put them in the magazine and much cheaper to just print them inexpensively at a local quick-print shop.

    I soon stopped accepting personal contact information in ads altogether. Why give any would-be competitor such easy access to my clientele? From then on we offered a mail forwarding service so subscribers could confidentially contact one another.

    The next challenge was to get the material assembled into a magazine and printed. Through a T&P connection I was introduced to a man in San Francisco named Lee who had a small print shop. He was known in fist fucking circles as the publisher of the T.A.I.L. (Total Ass Involvement League) newsletter. At the time he undertook the printing of PFIQ, his shop was proudly printing a four-color image — four runs through a one-color press — of a muscular arm inserted into a tattooed male butt. Needless to say he wasn’t squeamish about the content of PFIQ. In addition Lee knew and introduced me to a graphic artist who was able and willing to assemble my collection of material into magazine layouts.

    Materials in hand I boarded an airplane for San Francisco. I’d made an appointment to spend a day with the layout artist watching, overseeing the project, and proofreading the copy while he was typing it into his professional IBM Selectric. In that one day I learned enough that when I returned home I was able to do the layout of almost every issue of the magazine that followed. The artist charged me a little under $200. It was without question one of the best deals of my life.

    I’ve discussed earlier what layout was like in the days before the home computer. The magazine layouts were done on large sheets of light weight white cardboard printed with a grid of squares in pale blue ink. The film used to make the printing plates is insensitive to that particular “non-reproducing” color. Everything that was to appear had to be stuck onto the page. The artist applied a thin layer of a sticky wax to the back of the pieces. This acted as an adhesive, but made it easy to lift and reposition them if necessary. The pale blue grid made lining things up a lot easier, though it was still a time consuming process.

    Wherever a photograph was to be inserted, the artist would lay down a rectangle of an adhesive backed red film called rubylith. While pale blue was invisible to the film, the red was perceived as black. Thus when the layout was photographed, on the negative that was shot there would be a clear “window” into which would be taped a negative halftone of the image. Every photo was measured, and using a special tool called a “proportion wheel,” sized so the printer would know how large to make it to fit the layout.

    With the layouts complete I went to see the printer. His shop foreman took them and the photographs into the darkroom and started the process that would produce the printing plates. From there it was onto the press.



    Issue 1.
    		  

    The issue had 16 pages. Its original print run was 500 copies of the magazine and “Pin Pal” ad sheets. The cost of the job was just shy of $500. The subscription rate was $12.00 per year domestic, $14.00 overseas. The October 1977 issue was soon being put into envelopes and mailed to subscribers. Unfortunately I can’t remember how many actual subscribers we had at the time, but there were a number of copies left over. These eventually sold out over the counter and to new subscribers, and in time I had the issue reprinted.

    As I mentioned earlier, this issue featured an interview with Doug. While the magazine was in production and being printed, he was out of the country. I knew that he was very closeted about his piercing activities, but as a tribute to him I still wanted to use a photo with the article. But there was no way to get ahold of him for his approval. As a solution I thought I could resolve the problem by having the printer “solarize” the image. That’s a process of making it so high contrast that it’s reduced to only a few tones, and I thought it would provide sufficient disguise so that he wouldn’t be quite so recognizable. Nowadays solarization can be done easily with a good computer program. Unfortunately, at the time I didn’t even know there was a word for what I wanted much less how to describe it. The printer tried to follow my instructions as he understood them, but the result was less than satisfactory.

      


    Doug’s photograph

    in PFIQ issue 1.

    Doug returned as I was preparing the first issues to be mailed. I proudly presented him with a copy of this history making document, but my pride and enthusiasm were short lived. He was very displeased that I had included a recognizable picture of him. Caught between hurt and anger at myself, on the verge of tears, and knowing that it was too late and too expensive to have the magazine reprinted, I went to the hardware store after Doug left and bought a can of matte black spray paint. Returning home, flushed with upset and humiliation, I took a piece of thin cardboard and cut a rectangular hole in it the same size as the photo and started obliterating the evidence of my poor judgement by placing the stencil over the images one by one and spraying a swath of black paint across Doug’s face. As soon as the paint dried the magazines were stuffed back into their envelopes. I couldn’t wait to be rid of them as quickly as possible and immediately took the first batch to the post office just down the street. It’s possible some of these copies still exist in someone’s collection today. If so, they now know why Doug’s face is obliterated.

    I’ve no recollection how many copies endured this defacing, but several hours later and before I could mutilate any more, Doug called me. He apologized for overreacting and said that since the only people who would be receiving the magazine would be piercing enthusiasts, many of whom already knew him, it seemed silly to worry about. Besides, the circulation was very small. As a result the remainder of the magazines were mailed out with his face unobscured.

    Collectors may be interested to know that there is a subtle but distinct difference between the first edition of issue #1 and the reissue. In the first edition purple and brown inks were used on some of the inside pages. To save money on the reissue, only the cover has purple ink.



    Issue 2.
    		  

  • The First Piercing Store Opens its Doors [Running The Gauntlet – By Jim Ward]

    Written by

    BME

    VII. The First Piercing Store Opens its Doors

    While working from home may have been convenient, it also had its drawbacks. In essence you never leave work, so it’s hardly surprising when drunks show up on your doorstep at 3:00 in the morning wanting to get pierced. It also doesn’t help one’s credibility. For some time I realized that if piercing was ever going to be taken seriously, I’d have to move the business to a storefront.

    By the middle of 1978 I was able to generate enough cash flow to be able to seriously consider looking for a suitable location. Several factors were essential. Of course the rent had to be something reasonable. West Hollywood seemed like an excellent choice. Since the majority of my clients were gay men, it seemed logical to be in the heart of the gay ghetto.

    I briefly considered the Silver Lake area because a lot of leathermen lived in that neighborhood. There were also a number of leather bars. But unfortunately it lay within the jurisdiction of the rabidly homophobic Rampart Division of the LAPD under an equally homophobic police chief, Ed Davis. Notorious for his raids on the area’s gay bars, Davis made headlines and enemies on the city counsel when he squandered a sizable chunk of the police budget marshalling a large force, including helicopters, to raid one of the leather bars that was having a slave auction to raise money for charity. He reasoned they were breaking the law because slavery is illegal. Were I to locate in Silver Lake, how long, I wondered, might it take for my fledgling business to fall victim to some cop with an agenda? At least West Hollywood had a sheriff’s department which seemed to get along well with the area’s residents and business owners. Because I hated driving in LA, I was perfectly happy to find something within walking distance of home.

    West Hollywood in those days before it became an anti-business incorporated city was a genial community on the Eastern edge of Beverly Hills. Then, as now, the area was liberally dotted with showrooms catering to the interior design trade.

    As fall approached, fortune smiled on me. On the corner of the main thoroughfare (Santa Monica Boulevard and Huntley Drive), about three and a half blocks from home, I saw a ‘For Lease’ sign. The space was only about eight hundred square feet, but the rent was within my budget and it provided everything I needed at the time.

    The building owner was a crotchety, middle-aged, lush named Sid. At one time he’d had a design related business on the premises, but had reached retirement age and wanted to let his property be his source of income. At the time there were three other businesses in the building. If memory serves me correctly, there was a gay-owned vintage clothing store on the corner, a pro-dom on the second floor, and, briefly, a gay sex club run by the landlord in the basement. It was certainly a colorful location for my business.

    I signed the lease in September and began the process of decorating and furnishing. Although he was frequently difficult, Sid and I got along well through the years, and Gauntlet had a presence in his building until its demise in 1998. Sid died a year or so before Gauntlet.

    Before starting Gauntlet I had had many years of training and experience related to the design field. I’d studied three years at the New York School of Interior Design, worked for several designers, done picture framing, and worked in a paint and wallpaper store. When it came time to decorate my own business, I was ready.

    By 1978 I had pretty well established purple as the color for body piercing. This had sprung directly from another of those products of gay creativity, the bandana or hanky code.

    According to my research, some trace of the hanky code dates back to Gold Rush days, when dancers in all-male mining town saloons would divvy up into “fellers” and “gals,” those taking the women’s parts wearing identifying kerchiefs wrapped around their arms. But in the hands of a few gay men, it manifested into a unique cultural phenomenon that is still with us today.


    “The hanky color code originated in the early 1970s primarily to distinguish specific sexual interests when the original SM (or at least DS)-orientated leather scene was enlarging—and clothing alone didn't reveal esoteric sexual interests. The first published hanky code was done by Ron Ernst who drew one up in collaboration with Alan Selby (the original Mr S) for their San Francisco store Leather N Things; this code was published in the Bay Area Reporter in 1972.”

    The color of the bandana and the pocket in which it was worn signaled one’s particular sexual interest. Worn in the left back pocket it meant you were a top or active participant; on the right, a bottom or passive partner. Over the years the list of color codes became quite long. Some have quipped that you need a color chart to decode all the subtle differences of hue and shade. In the early days the list was fairly short. Red meant you were into fist fucking, a particularly popular sport from the mid 70s until the advent of AIDS ten years later. Dark blue indicated an interest in fucking, light blue a taste for cocksucking. Black meant S/M; gray, bondage. Yellow and brown are self explanatory (more).

    Drummer, a magazine for gay men into S/M that had begun about the same time as Gauntlet had published an article listing the common hanky code colors. I reasoned that piercing fans ought to have a color of their own. But what color? I didn’t have to look too far for inspiration — purple, the color associated with Jupiter, the planet associated in astrology with prosperity and good fortune; purple, the color draping Catholic and Anglican churches during Holy Week when they commemorate the day Jesus got pierced. It seemed ideal to me, and so I fired off a letter to the editor of Drummer decreeing purple as the official color for people into piercing. My letter was published, and in time, by continually reinforcing the message, it stuck.

    Quite naturally purple had to be a significant element in my color scheme. While purple is quite common today in fashion and design, in 1978 it was not a particularly popular color. This presented me with a number of challenges from the start.

    The business owner who’d previously occupied the store had put up a canvas awning. My original intent was to have a new awning made from purple canvas to fit the existing frame. On this would be painted the business name. Unfortunately there was no purple canvas to be had. Rather than go with another color I finally decided to have the existing awning painted and lettered instead.


    The exterior of the store with its purple awning

    As for decorating the interior, some friends and T&P group members thought the motif should be “early dungeon” — dark with lots of black leather and chains. While certainly sexy for some, for lots of people this would be too intimidating. It might also create an impression of sleeze and a possibly unsanitary environment. For most people getting pierced is scary enough, and less edgy surroundings can help put them at ease. I envisioned a day when piercing would become popular with more than just gay S/M enthusiasts. I wanted a look that would be inviting to anyone who walked into the store.

    A stylish wallpaper, something in which purple was a major element, would certainly be a good starting place. From working in a paint and wallpaper store I was familiar with many of the wallpaper designers and what they had to offer. So I got dressed up and headed for the newly opened Design Center to play interior designer.

    Finding what I wanted proved to be a bigger challenge than I had anticipated. There was almost nothing in which purple was a significant keynote. While some companies will custom color a run of paper for a design job, it’s expensive and reasonable only for a large job. I only needed a few rolls of wallpaper.

    What I finally settled on was beautiful, if a little over the top. It was a foil paper with an art nouveau motif of giant peacock feathers in shades of gold, orange, rose, and russet red with purple accents. The effect was quite dramatic. Some friends said it looked like a bordello. Others thought it was a little too gay. But once applied to the walls, with the trim and ceiling painted in a complementary purple, everyone had to admit the place looked elegant.




    Left: The front counter. The wallpaper was a real eyecatcher.

    Right: Gordon, one of my first office assistants, at work in the newly opened store.

    I really would have liked to have had purple carpet, but that was not to happen for several years. Until then we made do with the sandy beige carpet that covered the floor when I took occupancy. At one point a carpet dyeing service was called in to dye the carpet purple, but after they did a small, inconspicuous test area, the idea was scrapped. The best they were able to come up with was a sickly lavender which was not acceptable.




    At my desk. Notice the jewelry making area directly behind me.
    The vertical blinds could be closed to provide privacy when I was piercing.

    The back half of the store was to serve double duty. There was to be an area where I would make jewelry and another screened off area where I would do the piercing. The back wall was covered with a mottled silver and white wallpaper. The remaining walls were painted white. Good lighting was important, and the white gave the area a clean reassuring feel.




    Making jewelry

    As the decorating proceeded, plans for the grand opening were taking shape simultaneously. I designed invitations and had them printed. Fakir graciously provided a photo of his enlarged nipple piercing which appeared on the front. Well over a hundred invitations were sent out to enthusiasts all over the world.



    The grand opening invitation. Fakir Musafar provided the photo of his nipple.

    The grand opening was scheduled for November 17, Gauntlet’s third anniversary. There was a whirlwind of activity in preparation. Refreshments had to be purchased, champagne iced, everything put in order. A local photographer named Charlie Airwaves was hired to take photographs. It was one of the biggest days of my life.

    Guests began arriving around eight o’clock. My lover Eric and Doug were on hand to help me welcome them. Doug was in his element. For him this was the manifestation of a long-held dream.



    Left: Doug holding forth with members of the T&P group.
    Right: My lover Eric chatting with Alayne, my bookkeeper.
    (Both photos by Charlie Airwaves)

    Throughout the evening over a hundred people attended the festivities. It was a historical event. I wonder if that many piercing enthusiasts had ever congregated in one location at the same time before. Among the many guests were my pal Rod, and Tom the librarian who had been so fatefully instrumental in bringing it all into being.




    Among the guests was Tom the librarian (right facing forward)
    who was responsible for bringing Doug and me together.
    (Photo by Charlie Airwaves)

    Members of the T&P group were out in force, among them Bud who would become known to the piercing world as Viking Navaro. From Orange County, pro-dom Mistress Antoinette showed up and was photographed with both Doug and I.




    L-R:
    1. Members of the T&P group in conversation     (photo by Charlie Airwaves).
    2. Decked out in Gauntlet-made septum tusks, Bud, AKA Viking Navaro,
    converses with fellow enthusiasts (photo by Charlie Airwaves).
    3. Doug caught in mid-yawn or mid-sentence with pro-dom Mistress Antoinette.
    4. Mistress Antoinette and I catching a photo op.

    So the opening night of the first store in the world devoted exclusively to body piercing came to an end. It was an event I will never forget. Who would have dreamed that in less than three decades there would be thousands of piercing establishments around the world following in its footsteps?


    Next: The World’s First Piercing Magazine

    Jim Ward is is one of the cofounders of body piercing as a public phenomena in his role both as owner of the original piercing studio Gauntlet and the original body modification magazine PFIQ, both long before BME staff had even entered highschool. He currently works as a designer in Calfornia where he lives with his partner.

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to publish full, edited, or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published July 31st, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  • Bill O’Reilly Fears The Lizardman

    Written by

    BME

    Bill O’Reilly Fears The Lizardman

    “The ACLU … are the most dangerous organization in the United States of America right now. There’s by far. There’s nobody even close to that. They’re, like, second next to Al Qaeda.”

    – Bill O’Reilly, FOXNews (6/2/04)

    The first time I encountered Bill O’Reilly’s irrational views on body modification was some time ago when he appeared on Last Call with Carson Daly. I was flipping channels and came across the show, and having only heard a little about Bill at the time I decided to stop and get some firsthand experience of him. The thing that has stayed with me from that interview was Bill’s reaction to seeing Carson’s forearm tattoo. With no more provocation than the sight of the tattoo, O’Reilly began to voice his extreme disapproval, tinged with sorrow, over people — particularly young people like Carson — getting tattoos. I do not have a transcript but the phrase ‘hate to see young people ruining themselves’ sticks in my head. While those may not have been his exact words at that time, they are certainly in line with the position he continues to espouse today, often without any prodding.

    Besides revealing his prejudice a propos of nothing, the other thing that makes this notable for me is the context. Here is a man (O’Reilly) who as the guest on the show is lamenting how someone younger than he is, with (at the time) two very strong television shows has ruined himself and his future by getting a tattoo. I really think that Bill would do better concerning himself with his own career than that of Carson who could likely rest comfortably on his laurels for the rest of his life already and shows few signs of slowing down. Also, as Carson was quick to point out, this particular tattoo is a tribute to his father. O’Reilly was hardly fazed at this, though it was enough for him to shift off from discussing Carson’s tattoo to tattoos in general and then letting the subject go for the moment. So, when faced with fact that he had ignorantly spouted off about a tattoo that by anyone’s standards would be a beautiful and solemn gesture he did not apologize or reconsider but simply went on pontificating, conveniently overlooking his misstep and the glaring exception to his argument sitting next to him.


    Since this incident I have had the chance to hear O’Reilly denigrate tattoos and piercings regularly — most often in his radio broadcasts. When I am on the road I tend to search for talk radio and encounter him on the airwaves frequently. He often lumps being tattooed or pierced in with violent or antisocial behaviors, illiteracy, misogyny, and other undesirable qualities or activities. Sometimes he goes so far as to say that a visible tattoo or piercing is an indication that the wearer is a social degenerate. Frequently, he points to how people with visible tattoos or piercings will not be able to get jobs and thus make any contribution to society. Consider the following quotes:


    “Already you see millions of young Americans covered with tattoos, unable to speak proper English, unwilling to read a book or a newspaper. How do you think these people are going to compete in our hypercompetitive economic marketplace? The answer is that millions of them will be unable to compete, and will be doomed to a low wage existence. IBM will not hire you if you have a tattoo on your neck.”

    “Thus, we now have 10-year-old boys calling little girls ‘bitches.’ We have 13-year-olds with tattoos and body piercings. We have poor children without parental guidance selling dope and carrying guns.”

    My first question to Bill would be, where has this prejudice come from? It seems a bit too overdone, even for a pundit (the job description of which could easily read ‘making gross and unjustified generalizations’), to be simply a symptom of the residual Western puritanical stigma attached to most forms of body modification. Perhaps every pierced and tattooed person that Bill has ever encountered or heard of was an ignorant, violent, leech on society with no redeemable human values. Maybe he somehow managed to overlook all of the good people who are pierced and tattooed — the policemen, firemen, doctors, scientists, and just plain good folks (including ones with neck and hand tattoos that work for IBM — I know of a few) . I won’t deny that there are some truly repugnant people in the world and I will freely admit that some of those people are pierced and tattooed but there is something very important that Bill O’Reilly seems determined not to see:

    Heroes have tattoos too.

    In fact, if I were to over-generalize my experience in a similar manner I would be saying similar things about people without visible tattoos or piercings. Nearly every person who has ever accosted me for money or that I have observed or experienced acting poorly in public was not notably modified. Conversely, the nicest and most successful people I know are very publicly modified.

    And this is why Bill O’Reilly fears me — and probably you too. We rip the carpet out from under his proverbial feet. As much as he would love to paint us all as exceptions that prove the rule, there are just too many of us spread across too many fields and endeavors. And here is a note to Bill and anyone else who wants to tread that path: In real logic, the exception never proves the rule. Furthermore, many tattooed people are not employees because they are employers!

    If there is a silver lining to the success that allows O’Reilly spew his ignorant prejudice to such a large media audience it is that it means he will almost certainly never return to his former career as an educator. Yes, as he himself is often quick to point out, O’Reilly is a former teacher. Coming from a family of teachers and having teaching experience myself (ranging from elementary to college level); I shudder to imagine Bill O’Reilly entrusted with care of developing minds. Per his prejudice against body modification and despite claiming to hold personal freedom in high regard he advocates draconian methods in response to students who he describes as disrupting classrooms through body modification and or dress. I can only hope that his replacement was more enlightened and realized that instead of removing someone from the system until they comply by force, that issues of difference, including dress and body choices should be addressed for the benefit of all in the class. On that topic I would suggest Bill (and others) make a careful read of the columns by BME’s own Shannon Larratt on the subject:

    As a final note, I will mention that I was contacted to appear as a guest on Bill O’Reilly’s show over a year ago when tongue splitting legislation stories were hot and I was getting the chance to debate some of the legislators, often pointing out their complete lack of any facts on the subject. Bill and his producers seemed interested in the story because they agreed with my take on it being an issue of freedom and pointless legislation of prejudice (The [Modified] Body Politic). I also suspect that the writers of the bill’s political affiliations may have played a role. However, the appearance and story was canceled. I cannot say for sure as to why — I was told that they decided to cut it in order to give more time to another story. Here is an alternate theory: Having contacted me and done some basic research on me based on information I directed them to on my website and BME, the producers and Bill realized that I would not be attacking the tongue splitting legislation but also look to press him on his stance on body modification. Could it be that Bill O’Reilly didn’t want to have to defend himself and give airtime to an educated well prepared opponent with a tattooed face?




    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published July 27th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

  • Revenge of the Tattooed Nerds [The Publisher’s Ring]

    Written by

    Shannon Larratt


    Revenge of the Tattooed Nerds

    “Eccentricity has always abounded when and where strength of character had abounded; and the amount of eccentricity in a society has generally been proportional to the amount of genius, mental vigor, and courage which it contained.”

    – John Stuart Mill

    One of the things I love about tattooing is that it attracts interesting people from all demographics. The simple truth is that some people feel a desire to permanently mark themselves with things that profoundly affect their lives. I don’t know if this is some genetic leftover that helped primitive humans hold their social fabric together, or whether it’s an unavoidable byproduct of being both narcissistic and sentient creatures. Either way, people get tattooed every day with the things that define their lives — and “nerds” and “geeks” are no different.

    Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been talking to people with “nerdy” tattoos — computer logos, video game themes, science, math, and engineering imagery. Below you can read their stories in their own words:

    The Cult of Apple

    While I have received the occasional Intel, AMD, and Sun tattoo pictures, as well as a few Linux Tux and FreeBSD tattoos, no computer company has as many tattooed users as Apple does. We’ll begin this article by letting a few of those people explain their Apple tattoos in their own words.

    Nicole, 21, Seattle
    Apple Employee

    I’ve been an Apple enthusiast since I was young, and when I was 12 years old I said my first tattoo would be the Apple logo. It was Apple and my skills in working with and fixing Macintosh computers (as opposed to PC repair, which seems to be dime a dozen) that allowed me to get a good job outside of the small town I grew up in, and allowed me to escape from that close-minded, racist place. It was also my enthusiasm for Apple that was a factor in meeting my life partner; without being Mac users, we probably wouldn’t have found such a common bond. I wanted to get the tattoo to symbolize my coming-of-age, because what it stood for was such a factor.

    I actually had the logo tattooed in the September after I turned 18; that gave me nine months to get up the courage to get anything tattooed. The specific logo used is straight from an Apple sticker: size, shape and coloring. By the time I was tattooed, Apple had actually changed their corporate logo, but I had always pictured myself with the older rainbow logo. One thing that I’m quite proud of about the tattoo is the fact that no black ink was used. Every other Apple tattoo I’ve ever seen has a black outline around it. I read an anecdote from Steve Jobs (one of the founders of Apple), who was discussing the design of the logo. He insisted on having no black outline around the original logo, at great expense, but he wouldn’t settle for less. I had to shop around to find an artist willing to do it with no outline, but it was worth waiting for. It’s still as crisp and colorful three years later.

    My personal reasons for having the tattoo weren’t that I was slavishly devoted to the company — I had the tattoo for reasons outside its duty as a logo. Even if the company went out of business, I had the tattoo my coming of age; and it was only a symbol of such. My feelings about Apple have become stronger after getting the tattoo; it’s always a blast to meet others with Apple tattoos, and it’s certainly a winner in “who’s geekier?” competitions. I actually started working for Apple about two years after getting the tattoo (where I’m still employed); and no, I didn’t show off the tattoo in the interview. The period between the interview and getting hired was pretty heart-wrenching; I wasn’t sure how I would feel, being rejected by the company that I have indelibly marked on my body!! Luckily, it was unfounded fear.

    Apple customers can see my tattoo on a daily basis during the summer. Most customers don’t notice it (or don’t say anything), but the ones that do always love it. Everyone asks if I got it so I could get a job there. My co-workers love it as well. I showed it off in our first day of training together, and I’ve seen pictures of other employees’ tattoos.

    Christy, 20, Ithaca, NY
    Music major

    I was never much into computers until I went to Ithaca College. My parents had a PC at home and I would use it for schoolwork, but when I went to college I bought a G3 iMac (which I later replaced with a G4 ibook) since our music program strictly uses Apple Computers. I use the computer to run music notation programs like Finale and Sibalius, but that in itself isn’t reason enough to get the logo tattooed on your body. The more I learned about the company and the people who used them, I fell in love. It sounds ever so geeky, but all of my friends use Macs, a lot of them for film editing that they do. We are all up on the latest software and hardware, and are fanatical about it. I couldn’t think of a more thrilling activity then watching Steve Jobs give his keynote presentation at the MacWorld Conference.

    For a long time I just didn’t have anything that I felt strongly enough to tattoo on my body. Then I decided to tattoo an Apple on me! It just embodies everything that I am. It is more than just a computer logo to me. Apple computers are beautiful. I love design. I love to look at beautiful things. Architecture, fine art, interior design, superb tattooing, I just love it all. Apple gets it — they make beautifully designed products, and that is what I am about. The other main factor is when I think of Apple computers, I think of my friends and I smile. I met a lot of them through rendezvous on ichat at my school, and they mean the world to me. I didn’t get an Apple logo tattooed on me because I claim to be the goddess of computers, but what the logo has come to mean to me, and when a little Apple can make you smile so much, why shouldn’t it be tattooed on your body?

    I had a “friend” design the tattoo for me though. As time progressed, we “grew apart”, and when I looked at my back I couldn’t think of all the happy things that it meant to me, just fighting and tears. I had to get it off of my back. I should have just left it as Apple designed it. I covered it up with an old school piece, which still isn’t finished. I most definitely am going to get another Apple logo though, on a different part of my body, which you may or may not ever see 😉

    Sam, 30, Canada
    Mac Consultant

    I first started using the family Apple IIe computer in 1984 and used it exclusively while I lived in England until 1992. When I came home to Canada, I started using a Macintosh LC II as it would provide a similar setup to what I was used to. A year later my first computer was an Apple PowerBook 160. In 1995 I started tinkering with friends’ computers and by 1996 I started charging money for my services.

    In 1999, I moved to Ottawa to become a Macintosh computer consultant working solely on Macintosh computers. In 2001 one of my service calls was to fix an iMac at One Body Piercing in Ottawa. This was when I started thinking about the body mod world. I thought it was cool and decided an Apple tattoo would be the natural choice given that it’d been a part of my life for almost twenty years. I always that Apple was to the computer industry what Harley Davidson was to the motorcycle industry — the definition of perfection. Besides, bikers have Harley tats and not Kawasaki, so why not an Apple tat for me?

    I early 2002 I moved out of Ottawa, quit my job, and started my own Macintosh consultancy business. On my 29th birthday I went and got the Apple tattoo done. I never really cared about the pain because it wouldn’t last long. I didn’t want to get a tattoo that was too big, so one that’d hide under my watch was perfect. I was thinking about an outline that I’d get filled in later, but when I found out that the outline would cost the same as the filled in version, I got it filled in.

    The few customers that I have shown my Apple tattoo seem to notice the logic of it, but I haven’t had any negative reactions towards it, except from my mother, but she’s okay with it now.

    Joseph, 23, Upstate NY
    Computer repair technician

    My parents made me learn to type over summer vacation when I was about seven. The next year, I was required to learn TI Basic (on a TI 99/4a). There were computers available to me ever since I can remember. I learned how to write code, and the computer became something completely different, something much more useful. It seemed as if they could do anything. My first real job was working as “student help” at a school (where I work again now) installing network wiring and loading new computers for student use. Only for brief periods have I done anything else, and not because I wanted to.

    I thought about the tattoo for a long time, and thought it would be kind of funny in a way, but also seriously considered it’s impact on my life and on my future. I finally decided I really didn’t want to have a job outside of computers in the first place. Fellow geeks should be able to understand a tattoo like this, shouldn’t they? I had rationalized that it wouldn’t really hold me back if I stayed in the computer field, and if I wasn’t in the computer field, it would be a constant reminder that I wasn’t doing what I really love. I don’t have any regrets.

    When I initially approached the artist he was very excited, and we came up with the idea of an oval shaped plate missing from my forehead with a hole showing a computer inside. We discussed how the use of “torn flesh” had become common and expected. It was unanimously decided that we would use shattered bone as the outline for the opening. We got together later with a few photographs of parts as well as some real computer parts and I showed him some of the basics. I pointed out the important pieces that I required in the tattoo. I let him do the rest on his own and when I returned he had the tattoo drawn up. I don’t remember having any complaints about what he drew up, but I had to remind him what color some of the parts were during the process. It ended up being a computer processor in the center (the processor is a bare 500 mhz Motorola MPC 7400 chip) with two memory chips on one side and some surface mount parts on the other side on a green circuit board.

    People have very mixed reactions about it. Most of them are good, but some people don’t seem to grasp the concept of the tattoo at all and have difficulty understanding why I would do something like that. I don’t often let people see it to maintain a low profile. I know for certain there are people I work with that don’t know I have it. People do occasionally ask why I didn’t get it tattooed on my ass or something, but I can’t understand why someone would ask as question like that if they understood what it was.

    Zelda’s Army

    Video game tattoos are probably by far the most common “tech” tattoos that are sent in to BME. While nearly every game and every character is tattooed on someone, two game franchises absolutely dominate in numbers: The Legend of Zelda and Quake, with Zelda-themed tattoos having by far the most profound and personal meaning to their wearers.

    Wesley, 24, Murietta, CA
    Piercer at The Electric Chair

    Link, from the legend of Zelda, this guy was my brother growing up. I’m from a generation of latchkey kids who had the Seavers for parents and video games as baby sitters. Not to mention that I am still an avid fan of 8-bit video games. Be it playing them on an emulator or just washing the old cartidges off with rubbing alcohol and using one of my two NES systems.

    How happy was everyone who played this game when they got a piece of Tri-force, a bomb, or pretty much any item in that game for the first time? I can recall it almost as well as I can recall my first kiss. So it was a no-brainer that celebrating Link was what I wanted tattooed on me. I hunted down the image on the internet and took it to Kim Durham. We tried placing it normally, but since I wanted to make sure that you could see it through my ear tunnels, so I put my plug back in and we used my ear to draw a circle on my neck then placed the transfer in the circle.

    This stands as one of my favorite tattoos. It also doesn’t hurt that it’s one of my most complimented tattoos. The colors are vibrant enough to attract attention, and any person who sees it wants to wax nostalgic about one of my favorite conversation subjects; old video games!

    Kathy, 22, Oregon
    Botany/Chemistry Student

    My twin and I grew up with a few best friends, and one of them was a boy named Kenny who we liked to play video games with. Mostly Zelda, but others as well. We would watch the Zelda cartoons on TV and dress up like the characters for Halloween and pretend to be the characters when we were playing. Kenny was always Link, Becky (my twin) was Zelda, and I was always Sprite. I was a little put off about always being the minor character, but we expanded the role when necessary. As more Zelda games came out we kept buying them and playing them, but the original was always my favorite. I painted my car like the map of the original. I do not play the game all the time, or hardly at all anymore, being busy with school, but it is a reminder of the most fun times of my childhood.

    I decided to have it tattooed about 30 seconds after my twin came home with Link tattooed on her back!

    The design is the most majestic and simple official picture of princess Zelda that I could find. The color was done to be complimentary to Becky’s Link tattoo. The location was done to match Becky’s as well, though my tattoo is about an inch larger. My feelings on my childhood will never change; I will always want to remember the best parts, the imagination that made everything we did magical. So, I still love the tattoo. I wish it were in a different place, though. I can’t ever see it, and I always have to stretch to put sunblock on.

    My college peers usually love it, because a lot of people my age grew up on the game. Sometimes, if they don’t understand that it symbolizes my childhood, they think I’m a bit of a fanatic…

    Patrick, 22
    Software developer

    I wanted to get a Nintendo tattoo since video games were the primary reason I picked my profession. Zelda is definitely a game that has stood the test of time and Link is a hell of a character. I decided to put it on my leg because I’m considering doing a sleeve of Nintendo video game characters. For the design and pose, I just brought some Nintendo Powers to my artist, Nate from Everlasting Art in Philadelphia, who will be finishing it this weekend. He drew a custom piece based on the magazine and some of my vague descriptions like “I want a sort of serious look on his face.”

    My coworkers love it. Seriously. It’s sparked an interest in tattoos in several of them. Even my manager and the CEO don’t have any problems with it (or tattoos in general).

    Myk, 20, BC Canada
    Warehouse worker

    I was born in 1983 and four years later the greatest game of all time came out: Legend of Zelda for the NES. I played that game all day long for months and months, and still play it when I get around to it. Every Zelda game after that I have bought and beaten just reminds me so much of my childhood, so why not get a permanent reminder?

    In 1998 The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was released. It’s said to be the greatest in the whole Zelda series, which is true in my opinion. I faked sick a lot to get out of school just to play it. On the cover of the box is Link’s sword and shield which have been used in every game, but just hasn’t been shown in such detail until this game came out. I was obsessed with the design. I took the box to a local tattoo shop at 16 years old and an hour later I was sitting in the chair for the first time. The size, color and style are exactly as it looks, no change at all. I knew I wanted to get a full sleeve on my right arm one day, so I decided to get it on my left upper arm.

    I don’t regret getting the tattoo, because it means so much to me, but I do regret getting it done at the place I did. I was young and just wanted a tattoo… I didn’t know I should check out other stores, check for cleanliness and so on. I now see that my Zelda tattoo is very poorly done, but it’s nothing that I can’t get touched up and make look better.

    Scott, 21, Detroit Computer/Electrical Engineering Student

    I grew up as a military brat, so being on the move and having little to no friends I turned to gaming and technology. I chose to start my sleeve with the Atari symbol because Atari is what started the gaming craze. I actually probably enjoy Nintendo’s work over Atari, but I’m a fan of everything gaming.

    I’ve always wanted a tattoo sleeve, but being that I am a professional I couldn’t really go past the elbow. I wanted the brightest color I could possibly get so that’s why I chose Jime Litwalk to do my work — he is the color master. I don’t regret getting this work done. I’m a geek. You would never tell from my appearance, but the geek blood runs through me. I also have a strain of binary code tattooed on my back that spells out Apollo, the Greek god of music and philosophy. Music is another major influence in my life.

    Science and Engineering

    Tattoos are far from limited to “fan” artwork. While you could unfairly write off the tattoos already mentioned as no different than someone getting an Ozzy Osborne tattoo (not that there’s anything wrong with that!), many people working in science, math, and engineering, choose their own glyphs based on those professions.

    Chris, 31, Melbourne
    Sound engineer, drummer

    This tattoo, along with its partner on the other wrist, “wavelength = velocity/frequency” represent physical constants. They also represent the basis of my work, and of my passion. They were done at a time in my life when I desperately needed something constant, and to help me focus on a long term goal.

    I drew up several designs, and drew them on my wrists with ink, to make sure I was going to be happy with the result. I did experiment with different colors in the flames, such as blues and greens, as in a natural gas flame, but it didn’t work at all. Choosing the font for the symbols took the most experimentation.

    It hasn’t affected my work at at all. I get other sound engineers asking what the formulas mean though!!

    Luigi, 23, NYC
    Construction Safety Inspector

    I spent four years studying electrical engineering, and I didn’t drop out to some easier subject like some other students. I graduated with a BSEE… not that you can call me a doctor, but it’s still a small accomplishment. Because of this small accomplishment, I got my tattoo. To me, the transistor revolutionized the world due to faster and smaller computers and anything else that can benefit from them. It also has to do with the fact that transistors are in just about everything.

    The design is from the IEEE schematic symbol for a transistor. My feelings for the tattoo vary, but for the most part, I don’t regret it. It has had no negative impact on my professional life and can be covered by my watch when I need it to be.

    Niki, 20
    Computer science and mathematics student

    My first introduction to the Mandelbrot Set occurred during my third year of high school. My pre-calculus teacher had some time towards the end of the semester to showcase some of the more interesting sides of mathematics. Of course the Mandelbrot Set (and fractals in general) were included in this mathematical menagerie and really peaked my interest. Infinite amounts of infinitesimal detail becoming increasingly more complex as small changes were made to the input. Needless to say, this laid the foundation of my fascination with mathematics.

    During my senior year of high school I was fortunate enough to have a couple of incredible teachers who acted as catalysts and really ignited my interest in math and computer science. After graduating high school I began my college career majoring in computer science and minoring in mathematics. Come fall I will be starting my third year. So far I have been very fortunate and have had many talented professors for both computer science and mathematics, for which I am very thankful.

    What better way to express my love for math and computer science than to get a tattoo? And here is this Mandelbrot Set — a mathematical concept that can only be visualized using computer science! It seemed quite natural.

    To make the design I wrote a program that would generate the Mandelbrot Set. I decided to shade all of the points not contained in the set green (as green is my favorite color). I had planned to have the formula scarred into my back with the image tattooed over it (and in fact I still plan on doing this). However at the time I did not know any scarification artists and opted to have the formula as part of the tattoo.

    I find that more and more each day I realize how right this path is for me. Aside from my Mandelbrot Set tattoo, I also have the letter i scarred into the back of my right calf and the square root of negative one scarred into the back of my left calf (both of which represent the imaginary number). I certainly plan on getting more math and computer science related work done in the near future. My coworkers and clients who do know about it have overwhelmingly responded in a very positive manner.

    Michelle, 20, Florida
    UF Brain Institute Lab worker

    My familial situation growing up wasn’t a typical one, and consequently, I often wondered about the effects it had on my mental and emotional development and state. Basically, I wanted to know why I was the way I was, and eventually, why people are the way they are. That’s why I decided to study behavioral neuroscience.

    Initially, I thought of this tattoo as my own take on the symbol of the heart. I’ve come across many heart tattoos and I am always reminded about how feelings, whether physical or emotional, stem from the brain and nervous system, not the heart. The death of my grandmother was a more immediate impetus for me going to the shop and actually getting it done when I did, since the tattoo also has another more personal meaning for me.

    The tattoo is six rendered neurons across the right side of my rib cage. The one closest to my front is colored in blue and purple, while the five nerve cells behind it are shaded in black. This is because the five colorless neurons represent five people in my life that I was close with that have died, and the colored one represents me. They are all connected to me, and have influenced my life, both while alive, and in their passing. I decided to get it done over my ribs because my tattoos have to be concealable (and my back is sort of reserved), as I intend to pursue a career in research work, and unfortunately, body modification tends to be discriminated against in most professional fields. I also don’t really get tattoos for other people, so if anyone else can’t see them, that’s fine with me.

    Blake, 22, Toronto
    Bank Worker

    Computers and technology are so fully integrated into society, to the point that without them we wouldn’t be able to function properly. Without computers and computer related technology, we would fall apart. It’s gotten to the point where we rely on them to live… or at least live as we’ve become accustomed to living. So why not push this one step further and display the facts permanently on your body?

    Technology and computers control how we live, control our bodies and ultimately control the way we look at the world — in essence, our minds. My tattoo is the DNA double-helix encompassing the binary form of words for “MIND” and “BODY” pretty much summing up these disturbing realizations — that I’ve come to accept, rather than fight. The world of computers will one day, without a shadow of a doubt, end up like a potato bug on it’s back — taking us along with it — but at this point, there is not a damn thing we can do about it… but wait.

    Whether it’s liked or not, no one will actually put a great deal of thought into anything you say when you tell it to them. Now, throw in a factor that makes a person ask you a question that involves their interest… makes them want to know (whether it be guided conversation — misdirected truths — media manipulation — or something that people like to look at, like a tattoo). You now have that persons attention, with their mind open, ready to absorb information — whether they accept it — understand it — or choose to debate. I wouldn’t be surprised if a great deal of life changes conversations started over, “Hey, nice tattoo. What is it?”.

    Aubrey, 20, Philadelphia
    Computer Programmer

    I grew up with a biochemist for a father and a physician for a mother. Logic, rational thought, and curiosity were all things that were completely encourged in my childhood. My
    parents built a computer from a Tandy/RadioShack when I was less than a year old (maybe before I was born, I’m a bit fuzzy on those periods), so we’ve always had a computer. Putting this encouragement together with the computer resulted in me breaking, rebuilding, and understanding at least half a dozen machines since then — usually with my parents’ support.

    Really, my tattoo is about my general love of information technology, and my belief that it is radically and fundamentally reshaping how humans live. We are evolving at a rate never before seen on this planet. Basically, because the time between different generations of technology is shrinking rapidly, our evolutionary progress is increasing proportionally.

    I wanted a tattoo. But, I don’t feel comfortable with having a representational tattoo on me so instead I looked for designs symbolic of what I enjoy in life. I’ve always loved computers.

    I’d originally wanted to have my entire scalp tattood with the schematic of an Intel 486DX2 (the first computer that was ever mine). But, due to the fact that such schematics are nearly impossible to find in a visually pleasing form, and due to their complexity, this wasn’t really going to work. I started looking for something simpler.

    There’s exactly one thing responsible for me having a computer to write this on: the transistor. Had we been stuck using vacuum tubes forever, we would never have had any computer smaller than a living room, or with clock speeds faster than a few megahertz. Furthermore, the schematic symbol for a transistor is also visually interesting, and unmistakable to anyone who’s ever spent time with electronics schematics. It was,
    honestly, an easy decision.

    I am, and have been for a while, a transhumanist. Having people constantly asking me about my tattoos gives me the perfect chance to talk to them for a bit about my views on technology and where we should be going with it. I know that makes me sound a bit like somebody wearing a “Ask me about [Insert God X]” headband, just sitting around hoping
    somebody will let me preach. But, the truth of the matter is that I preach even if people don’t ask.

    I’ve been hired for jobs (where geeks had hiring and contracting power) partially because my enthusiasm for technology was made obvious by tattoos. I find it’s very easy to get someone to very quickly believe you actually do love what you’re doing when you can point at your arm and say, “Yeah, that’s a transistor. And I got it in art school.”

    Clients and jobs where geeks didn’t have any power almost never “get” my tattoos. I do nothing to hide my ink or piercings from clients, and so they see them, but they almost never say anything about them. To the few who have said something, I’ve gone on and explained what a transistor is, how it works, what it does, and other such information. Any points I’ve lost for having ink tend to be made up quickly with my ability to, in five or ten sentences, tell these marketing types how a computer physically works.

    Linux fans? I’m stealing this prompt to tell a brief anecdote. I just got home from the Fifth HOPE in NYC. It was amazing. But, one of the most amazing things was the number of people who understood my transistor tattoo. Up until this time, I’d kept a tally of how many people had properly identified it. It was at thirteen in three years. After just a few hours at HOPE, there was no point in counting anymore. Admittedly, I changed the rules, in that I was counting people pointing, nodding, smiling knowingly while looking at it, and so on, but it was obvious, even without precise numbers, that dozens of people understood it. Not only did they know the symbol, but they made the context jump (which engineers of the older generation never seem to do, even when they think it’s cool after it’s pointed out), and understood why I would have such a thing on my arm. It was very, very liberating, and the tradition of the count has been abolished.

    8-bit Gamers

    Perhaps because of the nostalgia factor, the games most often etched into permanence are older 8-bit games, and the design of the tattoo regularly reflect an embracing of this technology.

    Jolene, 26, Indianapolis
    IUPUI Research Associate

    I wish I could say that Galaga has been an obsession of mine ever since its inception as Galaxian for the Atari 2600, but the truth is I didn’t discover this fabulous game until I started frequenting the local arcade by my college. A friend of mine and I would go there late at night when we couldn’t sleep. We would just show up in our PJs and play Galaga until 3 AM. We fell in love with the game. It was our escape from school.

    I had been thinking about getting it tattooed, but the actual decision was sort of last minute. I was in grad school, taking this class over the summer that was called “Digital Media and Pop Culture.” It was basically all about visual effects in films, the history of video games, stuff like that. On the last day of class, we had the opportunity to earn some extra credit points by sharing a story or experience having to do with movies or video games. So the night before, I went and had the Galaga fighter ship tattooed on my back, and when I told my story and showed the pictures of the process, my professor was extremely impressed. Needless to say, I earned those extra credit points.

    I’ve since been planning out which aliens to include, and what challenge stages to integrate into the entire design. I’ve also decided that eventually, one day, when I retire from the game, I will tattoo my high score between my shoulder blades. As far as the design goes, I’ve been recreating all the graphics using Adobe Illustrator from pictures I’ve found online or that I’ve taken myself while playing. Since my skin is such a pale shade of white, I’m having to outline the graphics in a thin black line so they will show up better on my back (this started with the fighter ship, which is white in color, but had to be done in more of a grayish tone on my skin so it would be visible).

    I still enjoy Galaga as much as I ever have. In fact, I’m probably even more cocky about my Galaga playing skills now that I have the tattoo, because it goes to show how hardcore I am about the game.

    Russ, 26
    Computer Engineering

    Back when arcades were hot-shit, like during the days of Mr. Do, Dig Dug, Jungle Hunt, and Berserk, my mom worked at a bowling alley on Cape Cod. The arcade in the bowling alley was loaded with video games, and also loaded with quarters. Every morning when my mom would open the alley, she would tag me along, and the service operator would come to empty the quarters out of the machines. After he rid a machine of its bounty, he would load it up with the maximum allowable free credits (usually 9). Then I’d have about an hour and a half to play free video games all morning until clients started coming in. This lasted a while before the local kids caught on that there were free video games. This was probably the nostalgia I was trying to commemorate with these tattoos.

    I wanted a tattoo, and I wanted something that sort of defined me as a person. I spent a lot of time playing Nintendo when it was in its prime, and knew that my love for old school video games was never going to wane. I tend to be a huge fan of pop culture in general, so any tattoo I was going to get was going to be along those lines anyway.

    On my right arm I have an Atari logo, and underneath it are four recognizable icons from the early eighties: Blinky from Pacman, a Space Invader, a Pooka from Dig Dug, and Mario from Donkey Kong. The Atari logo was my first tattoo, which reflected the first real “video games” that I ever played. The four icons below it, I felt, encapsulated a general range of the sort of thing anyone living in the arcade era could be familiar with, and I also thought those four icons were pretty representative of something I would want on my body forever.

    My left arm has four icons from the Nintendo era: Link from the Legend of Zelda, Megaman, Super Fire Mario, and the Black Mage from Final Fantasy. Although they are pretty mainstream choices, I just wanted some kind of reminder that most of my early teens were spent having sleepovers and playing rented Nintendo games until 5 AM.

    I don’t play a lot of newer games, so when people see the tattoos, they always assume I am a huge gaming fan, which I’m not, although I do love the oldschool. especially Robotron 2084.

    Rahima, 20, Midwest
    Entrepreneurial Management and Marketing

    I still remember when I was four and my mom led me to the towering display of Nintendos at Kmart. Since then, I’ve gone through several different game systems (remember Virtua Boy?) and literally hundreds of games. I’ve had numerous other hobbies and interests, but none have stayed with me as long as video games have. Video games aren’t an obsession of mine, I only play four or five hours a week, if that, but I have always played them. I think because I haven’t become insanely obsessed with them, I haven’t have a chance to become burned out by them. I also feel that video games have been a huge part in allowing me to have a close relationship with my autistic brother. He doesn’t understand what goes on in most of the world, but he does understand video games.

    While on break from college, my friend had a tattoo done, and I was insanely jealous of it, so I figured after years of wanting a tattoo, the time was right. The idea for the 1-Up mushroom just popped into my head and I instantly loved it. I figured I wouldn’t regret having the 1-Up mushroom on me when I’m older because video games represent so much of my childhood.

    Most people love my tattoo and I like seeing the smiles and memories it brings back to them. Some people ask if I will regret the tattoo later on, but I really felt like it belongs on me. A month later after getting the 1-Up mushroom tattoo, I had the Goomba added on the inner part of my ankle. If anything, the tattoos serve as a great memory of my childhood, and something that I frequently look fondly at.

    I do go to a rather snobbish business school, so some people are surprised by my tattoos. I know that I have potentially closed some doors with them, but I never wanted a piece of corporate America. I have thought long and hard about the possible consequences and discrimination I may face as a member of the modified community, and am ready to take on any and all of these challenges with open arms.

    Steve, 24, Lynnfield MA
    CIS Graduate

    I have always loved video games, and I like my tattoos to be something that I can smile at, and at the same time be important to me. At one point in my life I had lost a lot of friends but video games were still there for me. When I went to school I made my first friends in the school’s arcade playing Gauntlet. They are now my closest friends. Video games are also a good outlet for me because when I get mad or am in a bad mood I can play a video game suited to my mood. I can blow things up, or I can play a video game that makes me smile, or even cry.

    Nintendo was always something innocent. It reminds me of my childhood, and I miss the innocence that came with childhood. I originally just wanted a full sized Nintendo controller, but now my plans are to make my whole right leg a Nintendo piece — I just need more money!

    Since I got my first tattoo I have become more open to people’s free expression. In my mind I was always tattooed anyway though. My feelings about people opposing the modified community have grown, and in a way it angers me. Sure it’s human nature to fear what we don’t understand but in these times we have enough problems and the last thing we need is something so petty such as this.

    Other gamers

    …But 8-bit gaming is far from the only kind immortalized with tattoos. As more time passes, the torch is passed to PC gamers as well.

    Shan, 28, Dallas
    Obscurities Counter

    Most of my tattoos spawn from childhood memories. At the age of nineteen, my uncle was paralyzed from the neck down in World War II. Every month the government would send him a large check to compensate for his disability. He would use that money to find ways to entertain himself. I lived with my uncle most of my early life. Every week some new gadget was coming in the mail. I was about six when the computer arrived; we unpacked it, and plugged it in and wow, was it amazing. As I was going through the bags I found a strange box with the word Ultima on it. My uncle not being able to really move his arms, always needed help with his toys. I was his arms and legs in a land far away, killing dragons, and collecting gold, or flying through space, discovering new alien races. Everyday after school, turned in to every night after school, and then every morning before school. If I had any free time, I was behind that machine in a different world.

    Most kids my age didn’t have computers; in the early eighties they were pretty expensive. Everyone else had Ataris, so of course we got one as well. The games this machine would let you play just weren’t as involved, and were really basic. I still played them, but it wasn’t until the Nintendo that I really got hooked on platform gaming. First Nintendo, then Sega (you had to have both in my neighborhood). Computers were still a rare thing, but slowly they became more inexpensive and the games were easier to find. As I grew, so did the machines, faster processors, amazing graphics, surround sound audio or 3-D realistic environments. It’s a whole new world, and you can visit it too. That’s what always attracted me, the interaction between the artificial intelligence, and the choices I could make. There are no limits. Sure you can read a book, and explore other worlds, but how often can you decide what the outcome is, and watch it all happen with your eyes, not your imagination.

    Tattoos are a huge part of my life, they are my work, my memories, and the things in life that make me happy. Throughout history people have had tattoos for many different reasons. Sailors would get symbols to keep them afloat, or to remind them of that woman they met at port. Warriors would get symbols to scare their enemies or to show rank. I get tattoos that remind me of the things I love, and what I want to carry with me for the rest of my life. When I look in the mirror, or down at my body, I feel the opposite of regret. I smile and know what I have done is right.

    The Lizardman, 32
    Performance Artist

    This tattoo was partly motivated by my love of goofy things — especially in otherwise often serious arenas like permanent body modification. I was also interested in exploring an atypical tattoo location (fingertips). The idea of getting a gaming based tattoo was very simple since it is something I really love to do. Outside of sex it is my preferred and driving force when it comes to pleasure oriented experience!

    Coming up with the idea and being amused by it was enough but I held off for a few months just to be sure I really wanted to do it, as is usual for me. I didn’t see a drawback, so I got it. The idea itself contained all the design elements — to have the standard FPS control keys tattooed on my fingers as if prolonged gaming had imprinted them there.

    If you enjoyed this article, you can check out lots more tattoos like these in BME’s Geek Tattoo Gallery. If you’d like to send in your own for that gallery (and get a free membership in return), just email a crisp high-res photo of it to [email protected]. Thanks,


    Shannon Larratt
    BME.com

  • Montreal Tattoo Convention 2004 Report [The Publisher’s Ring]

    Written by

    Rachel


    Montreal Tattoo Convention 2004 Report
    by Rachel Larratt


    “If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.”

    – Abigail Adams

    Every woman I know that’s been to a tattoo convention knows what most of the photographers can be like — dodgy old men trying to convince you to come to their hotel room. You can easily recognize their sleazy work in the magazines; they’re the guys that think you have to be nude to “properly show off” that little star on your wrist.

    “Want a picture of your sleeve in the magazine? Let’s get you out of that shirt and bra, sweetie. It’ll look better that way. Trust me, I’m a photographer. Now push your breasts together for me. Look sexy, baby. Why don’t you take off those pants as well? Don’t worry, honey, all the other chicks are doing it too. Don’t you want to be famous?”

    Ever wonder why some tattoo magazines are full of women whose only shared characteristics are bad tattoos and bared breasts? It’s because the men taking the photos don’t care about the tattoos — they only care about getting girls naked. If you’re a regular at tattoo conventions, I’m sure you know the photographers I’m talking about. We’ve all been harassed by them. After turning them down, I have had these old men sneak back about twenty feet and take my picture with a zoom lens, only to end up with nothing but a shot of me holding up my middle finger.

    This is a tradition that I want to stop.

    Earlier this summer, after spending an hour at the Toronto convention and being completely disappointed in the atmosphere, I left. While I’d already told everyone I was going, I began to question my upcoming plans for the Montreal convention. Should I go? Should I spend the money on a booth? Will people be just as grumpy? After all, the French, especially the Quebecois, do have a reputation for being rude to us Anglophones.

    Spending one minute at the Montreal Tattoo Convention completely shatters those stereotypes. Friendly people had come from all over the world, and it was clear that they were there to have a good time. There was no posturing or attitude, and it just felt like everyone was there to meet the top international tattoo artists and to simply enjoy the art.

    Even though many of the people attending the convention spoke only French, the language barrier never hurt us at our booth. I made my way through the day with a lot of smiling and body motions to show people what I wanted them to do. I had my lovely assistant Jen translate whenever I couldn’t get my intentions through, and Phil Barbosa (who you know as the photographer who shot the ModCon book and other BME events) helped me keep the lighting and technical aspects in check.

    I started off taking pictures of the few people there that I knew and then started tackling the crowds. No pressure and no sexualization. I stuck with “may I take your picture?” and people seemed to liked that. Now let me share some of those pictures with you.

    I’d love to continue shooting conventions all over the world. I really had a great time taking portraits of both old friends and total strangers. Thank you to my assistants for the help, to the organizers of the convention, and especially thank you to everyone who let us shoot them. It was wonderful getting to meet all of you (and to see some of you again). I hope you enjoyed the photos, and finally let me also thank that small minority of photographers out there that understand that women with tattoos are still women deserving of respect and courtesy.

       
         Rachel Larratt
         BMEzine.com

    Rachel Larratt is the copublisher of BME.com, the largest and oldest full-spectrum body modification publication on the planet. Her background is as diverse as one would expect of BME’s coowner, and includes everything from body piercing to developing technology for high-bandwidth media distribution.

    Copyright © 2004 BME.com Requests to republish complete, edited or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published July 13th, 2004 by BME.com in Toronto, Ontario, Canada..

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