just came back from louderARTS' weekly slam joint. typically they'll have an open mic, a slam, and a feature poet. tonight, the feature poet was a jerk named jamie. that's jamie dewolf, formerly jamie kennedy. he's from the east bay, white guy, about 30, buncha tattoos, and he prefaces his first piece with: where are all my perverts at? ok, i thought, a poem about sex. not a problem.
not ten seconds into the piece, he starts explicitly referencing hitting his girlfriend, tying her up, choking her, punching her in the face, holding a gun to her while "fucking her from behind"
he manipulated not only the venue, but the art itself, not to mention the fact that he had a perfect setup, rapport with the hostess, and a willing and overall well behaved audience to push his fucked up personal and private preferences into a space to contribute to an environment that was unsafe for women। period. my fantastic partner, who has good sense said: let's get outta here.
we dipped in protest. but why would someone sully such a sacred space in the first place?