Antwerp gay pride & Navigaytion 2009: drunken queens on a boat

Quote from the ‘Antwerp Pride’ website:  www.antwerppride.com (check out event promo video 1, video 2)
“The city of Antwerp, clubs, cafés, fetish bars, erotic shops, bookshops, museums, LGBT organisations welcome you and your friends to Antwerp for the second edition of Antwerp Pride. Join ten thousands of visitors for an unforgettable pride weekend in Europe’s gay harbour, Antwerp. The combined forces of the large gay community and the support of the city of Antwerp will ensure another exciting edition.” Europe’s gay harbour? Someone must be joking. (But even the Russians in the Ukraine covered it]

OK, take two, now without the “we just love an influx of 30,000 cash-spending tourists, and we would bend over backwards to attract them, even if they came from Uranus” PR:  ‘Antwerp Pride 2009 is a yearly gay event that focuses on its highlight, Navigaytion 2009, a commercial “drunken queens showing off on ten riverboats” event surrounded by numerous huge parties, an open air fetish & leather-scene show and countless activities where gay emancipation has long been replaced by cashing-in on the influx of gay tourists.

If you care for my 2008 Navigaytion pictures and video, feel free to check them out.  Just added: some 2009 shots

[Update June 27, 10 pm: I just returned from Navigaytion, having taken 300 shots from the elevated riverbanks. Blazing sunshine, friendly & wild, be it with much less visitors. I was overcome by a "I've seen this too many times" feeling: people enjoying the culture of unadulterated narcissism in open air. The crowded was mixed (though +90% gay) with a yearly 'let's peek at this weird gay zoo" part where a large crowd of tourists and locals gazed at (and photographed) the Navigaytion crowd from the elevated riverside terraces. At times, it became funny, though slightly embarrassing. Anyway, Navigaytion 2009 turned out to be a predictable, perfect carbon-copy of its 2008 edition. "]</

Elvis fans shocked by Belgian 2009 Eurovision song contest entry

I doubt whether hardcore Elvis fans will enjoy Belgium’s entry for the Eurovision song contest 2009, next May in Moscow: “copycat”. “He’s too fat to rock and roll”, with additional references to “rich and arrogant”, Priscilla, well, you get the picture. “Belgium: 0 points”?

The tragic demise of a suburban, hysterical drama queen

In a country far, far away, lives a wondrous creature. Yet unidentified by local scientists, she preys on her own self-induced misery to turn the life of her own and of all those surrounding her into a perfectly manicured, yet horrifying 24/7 PMS hell. Let’s visit this rare species in God’s creation on an exploratory mission of mercy, shall we?

Each and every day one can see her waking up around 11 am , cursing at yet another day filled with vital issues such as clipping grocery store coupons, imaginary vacuuming and cleaning, driving her sleek European build $50,000 Volvo to her multiple therapists and charity gatherings (Narcissists Anonymous being her true favourite), while her two picture perfect, fair-haired children hungrily await her return with military embedded shock and awe.

More often than not, the blinds are drawn at her mansion in upscale suburbia, as she can’t stand the light or gentle warmth of a regular summer day. Much like her mind, her skin is fragile, bristled, broken, showing signs of concealed decay.

Being an upstanding citizen, she’s ever so proud of her numerous academic achievements, being granted the “ultimate sleeping your way to the top” award, (twice), with an honourable mention for “landing the best paid state official”, not the biological father of her children, but without the slightest doubt the social catch of the century.

When she laughs, there’s a “je ne sais quoa” (her spelling, she obviously speaks “Franch”) to her composure and voice that makes you shiver in disbelief: is this really a human laugh? Are those valued, inherited jewels and pearls real signs of success and wealth, or pathetic attempts at blinding the onlooker?

So she slumps along, taking her pills that keep us safe from her manic mood-swings, drinking yet another bottle of red wine. Being a very sophisticated consumer at Wall-Mart, she likes to choose her exclusive beverages based on two important criteria: pronounceable name and most colourful label.

Sundays mornings are spent in church, being a ‘woman of faith’ (in Prozac),  singing along to the hymns she never believed in in the first place.  Church visitors endure her long, pathetic stories of tragic loss, as somehow she appears to have lost every family member one can lose, several times over. But then again, who would blame them?

Her husband is a powerful man. Driven by ambition he threats her like a trophy, a trophy that has long faded but insists on being admired by a wide following of PMS-ing groupies. Being the bee-queen, she sequesters everyone’s attention, if not by good-will, then by force. Thee internet is her lifeline, used and abused to intimidate her flock of driveling hausfrau bloggers, who go through the daily ritual of leaving brain-dead comments at her pathetic blog she considers to be a true masterpiece, worthy of a Pulitzer price.  One she will fake to have been awarded. Venus rules the night.

She’s the quintessential suburban, hysterical drama queen, the owner of a brain filled with imaginary grandeur. One of a kind. And damned proud of it.

But one day she tripped, only to notice people just stepped on her, without remorse. Lacking any real substance, nobody noticed her.  Her children soon left the oppressive maternal playground, following their gay lovers to California, desperate to escape the years of inane drivel, art classes, straight A exams, mental abuse called “poetry” along with a mix of religious fanaticism and delusions of greatness their mother had labelled ‘an wholesome education’.

She was alone. Severed from her world of make belief she festered like a trampled, suburban, hysterical drama queen. One down. Millions more to go. [© Peter - antwerp.wordpress.com, 2009. All rights reserved.]

Dedicated to all emotionally fake “Alice in wonderland” housewives I had the pleasure of meeting these past years.

Turkey 2008: the Muslim cartoons

During these cold Belgian winter months browsing through my summer vacation photos and videos often makes me discover a rare gem, one that I’d overlooked while processing over 1,000 shots and numerous videos. You may recall that I spent September of 2008 in and around Bodrum, Turkey, the undisputed crown of the Turkish Riviera, harboring expensive yachts, an upscale local (sometimes topless) beach clientèle, along with a most amusing mix of Muslim traditions with Turkish everyday commercial reality, anno 2008.

[My video:] Don’t you love the way these enterprising Turks know what really counts ? I couldn’t help but smile at this Bodrum cartoon artist, totally ignoring the Muslim invitation to start praying emanating from the Mosque behind him. He kept on drawing his hilarious but provocative cartoons, admired by tourists. Business first, just like in my friendly local Turkish corner shop.

Run like Santa, but don’t crash into the shoppers

“Santa runs” have become quite popular the past few years. Basically, they’ve got it all: dressing up like Santa, racing to beat the clock, all with a jolly “ho-ho-ho” smile on your face. This year’s Antwerp organizer Q-music (a national commercial radio network) decided to make it more difficult to win the grand prize: wannabe running Santas will have to face the hard-to-handle obstacle of a downtown shopping crowd, late next Friday afternoon. I’m not sure who’ll be most at risk: the thousands of running Santas or the seasonal shoppers.

The day Santa Claus short-circuited Antwerp

It’s a well-known fact politicians just love Santa. Much like themselves, Santa is overflowing with promises he can’t deliver, with a jolly “ho-ho-ho” attitude that conspicuously sounds like the verbal diarrhea most politicians are famous for. So we weren’t exactly surprised that when Santa came to Antwerp last Friday, our local dignitaries fell over each other for a chance to accompany his glittering golden coach, drawn by two snow white horses. The gold was, in line with all expectations, fake. But I digress.

Let me rewind to the moment Santa arrived at Antwerp Central station, a sumptuous 1900 style railway cathedral. I’m not sure how Santa reached your happy town (in a Hummer?), but given we’re European we do prefer the more classic touch.  Suitable transportation meant a golden ride along the golden shopping mile, making convenient stops to push strategically positioned buttons, a generous act that lit up the exclusive upscale Antwerp shopping center, much like the legalized prostitution mega-complex near my home. As long there are flashing lights, people have a natural tendency to get into a suitable mindset. Stop me from digressing any further here.

Anyway, by the time Santa finally arrived at the Christmas village in front of Antwerp cathedral (a weird mix of seasonal XXX “marzipan penises”, “fresh juicy sheep bones for your dog” and 100 “eat until you drop” stands) my hands were virtually frozen, but trust me, I kept on following the camera crews from the mainstream media like a bloodhound, taking pictures until my finger went into stand-by mode.

Obviously, I did not miss the grand finale when Philip Heylen, alderman for Tourism of Antwerp (surrounded by more cops than a presidential candidate) finally allowed Santa to make his Christmas market speech, glorifying the benefits of a multi-cultural town. When my elderly neighbor suddenly loudly shouted she had been “mugged yet again in his multicultural shit city”, police gently escorted her away. Hey, if you start doubting the magic promised by the Antwerp PR dept, you will be assimilated , like in  “When the truth starts to hurt, it’s time to remove it”. Although that may sound like a GW Bush statement, I did make it up myself. Really. Before I forget: when Santa pushed the “lights on” button, half the Antwerp Christmas market short-circuited, including the traditional 1900 era merry-go-round. An omen, for sure.

The evening ended with more seasonal glamor, with Philip Heylen opening the “Christmas funfair”, a most bizarre 2008 concept involving a giant Ferris wheel on the riverbanks, along with the banned booze-stands and a number of totally unseasonal fun rides (care to be “shaken upside down” at high speed in the freezing cold? Antwerp city believes you’ll love it).

The evening came to a spectacular close when Antwerp mayor Patrick Janssens (ex marketing company CEO) opened the city hall ice skating rink, with countless party members visitors waving glittering firework sticks. I for one preferred not to burn my fingers and had a free cup of  instant soup, followed by a  60° proof liquor donated by the Norwegian embassy, those nice folks who provide the yearly tree in front of Antwerp cathedral [more seasonal opening night photos to follow asap].

When Santa almost crashed trying to skate a few meters/yards in that drag queen suite of his, I knew it was really time to go home.

I can only assume your Santa experience has been slightly more traditional, but do let me know if it wasn’t.

Santa Claus does Antwerp, in drag with his black slaves

I will be focusing on “images of Antwerp” during December, a month offering so many photo ops that I hardly know what to post first. Some of these shots may be taken with a cell-phone cam (no, I won’t drag a large camera in the windy/rainy giant Ferris wheel that is currently being constructed right at the edge of  Antwerp’s riverbank Christmas village), along with some forgotten but often unusual shots showing “the stuff I didn’t blog about the eleven previous months”.

To start off with: Dutch Santa does Antwerp. I know, he looks like an anorexic white drag-queen, accompanied by dozens of fake (like in “turned ‘non-white’ using theater make-up”) black slaves.  No, there’s no connection with the USA, my dearest readers, we just have extremely weird local Christmas customs (video). Have fun and keep on shopping, we have to save the world’s economy!

Antwerp visitors soaked during bizarre winter season opening

Summer is definitely over in gray Antwerp, Belgium: 10°C/50°F at most, with a North Pole wind that has turned the nights into a frosty experience that makes me want to cuddle up to someone I care about (yes, he forced me to add this line – isn’t true love touching? ). Stores have already started to sell Santa Clause merchandise, natives are trying to protect themselves from the sudden chill and many buzzing streets close to my home are virtually deserted during the week.

OK, it’s getting colder, like it always does, but the nice folks over at visit Antwerp got this great idea to make sure the ongoing influx of tourists would still be entertained. “Let’s have a stunning water show, like they do in Florida” some city Einstein must have come up with, “one of those shows with a huge computerized Disney-like laser, plus lightning, plus massive fountains, right in front of city hall, at 9 pm”. The fact that the howling evening wind would shower and soak the onlookers may have crossed someones mind in a rare moment of lucidity, but then again, who would notice this “irrelevant detail” when the show was aired on national Belgian TV? Stop whining folks

National Belgian TV obviously couldn’t care less, but a small local TV station actually showed up, and so did I, along with 500+ visitors and even some Antwerp natives who should have known better. Watching a stunning, yet all-French spoken (sponsored and paid for by France Tourism) 3D laser and water/animated fountain show, I actually had to protect my camera as soon as most tourists frantically ran for cover when the violent wind started to blow the massive amounts of icy jet-water all over the square in front of city hall.

Somehow, this bizarre event is representative for the way Antwerp likes to project its hyped image to the outside world: if it looks good, it must be good (no matter if it chills you to the bone and, worse, even if it’s a freebie to promote another country ànd city). Enjoy my pictures (please click to enlarge), but remember: I needed a warm bath and a change of clothes afterwards.

What would you suggest on how to convey the unpleasant truth about the Antwerp climate to the nice folks over at “visit Antwerp”? (We’re out of ideas, really).  Maybe urgently suggesting to consider having a beach party in the weeks running up to Christmas, as “nobody can see on TV how cold it really is”?

The Antwerp Hilton drag queens

Transvestites, eh, art in front of the Antwerp Hilton last Sunday. Don’t blame me [please click to enlarge]
Twenty stages with top art performers across town, and these grrrls managed to outshine them all. Weird, isn’t it?

I’ll have a vibrator, a hot party and some lingerie: sex for sale in front of Antwerp City Hall

What do you get when you mix a warm summer day, a 100,000 visitor influx and one (out of 200) not so common stand with vibrators, sex toys and erotic home parties on-demand at the annual 1600 era Antwerp Rubens market, right in front of city hall?

You can be the judge, but trust me, I had trouble keeping a straight face when a small girl pointed to one of these “novelty items” while persistently exclaiming ‘Mummy, I want one of those!”. Don’t they grow up fast these days?  [More photos of this surprisingly entertaining event coming up. I also got into Antwerp city hall and obviously, kept on shooting.]