The Death of Tolerance?

During the recent panel discussion “Is Leather Dead?'” presented by the San Francisco Leathermen's Discussion Group in July, Guy Baldwin described the classic Leather bar as a a nexus of many groups: bikers, fisters, men who practiced S/M, men who wore Leather as fetish, and men who simply enjoyed the pervasive masculinity. Disparate groups interacted together in relative harmony. Men whose shared identity was negation, NOT part of the cultural hegemony in America and in the rising Gay mainstream.

Today we gather on social networking sites. Many of us use these sites as a means of screening our future fucks and play partners before Leather runs. Others have learned how to use social networking to arrange face-to-face gatherings including beer busts and dungeon parties. And still others have developed advanced techniques of cruising that rival the quiet art exercised in the Leather bar, leading to physical encounters and subsequent play.

There are still others who use the Internet as a mask to hide behind. These men shun social spaces and the mannered ritual of cruising. They prefer to use the Internet as a substitute for skill and social ability. These men usually use the anonymity of the web to make immediate connections with other men, claiming to be “Sirs” or “Masters” with a history of experience. Devoid of the checks and balances of actual place, these Web-doms often find it easy to write cruel remarks to submissives online. The cruising ritual of the Leather bar virtually eliminated such rude interactions, demanding politeness either out of fear of immediate retaliation from peers or out of respect for the feelings of others. Behind the mask of the website, inexperienced men feel emboldened. Sociopaths that take advantage of the curious and the uninitiated.

On the flip side, inexperienced submissives often feed like predators on the earnest remarks of experienced Doms. Like the Hungry Ghosts of Buddhist lore, they strive to fill their stomachs in spite of the constriction of their throats, never content. They demand to meet the Dom immediately and usually release a litany of epithets when the experienced Man insists on meeting first to negotiate.

The efficiency of the language used in chatting, texting, and e-mailing adds to the volatility of the virtual place. Ignoring conventions of the spoken word that reinforce polite behavior, messages become direct, clipped, and often harsh. This compounds the need for personal interaction between potential players subsequent to online cruising.

Many men of my generation have mourned the passing of San Francisco's Eagle. For me, this bar was more than a historical place of refuge. Its dark recesses facilitated the art of cruising, an art based on discretion and subtle interaction. I mourn the loss of this social art. Cruising is based on nuance and mannered restraint. And the subtlety of such interactions are often missed by the uninitiated, visible only to those who know how to read the signs. Because of this, the Leather bar operated on both esoteric and visible levels. Tolerance enforced by the phenomenon of cruising.

Since my late teens, whenever I am in Venice I have sought out the intimate space inside the Chiesa di San Sebastiano, a church in one of the furthest corners of Dorsoduro. Once inside the coolness of the church, I immediately go to the front of the sanctuary. Standing next to the altar I become part of the drama of Paolo Veronese's masterpiece depicting the martyrdom of the Saint. Glancing up to the farthest corner of the dark space, I become with Saint Sebastian the target of the archers. An essential part of the unfolding drama of his martyrdom.

Tourists inevitably stare as I stand in stillness before Veronese's massive canvas. In spite of the fact that they occupy the same space that I occupy, they are ignorant of the drama that is enfolding. The three painted archers take aim from the far corner of the darkness, pointing their arrows at both Saint Sebastian and myself.

My phenomenon remains hidden to those who are not privy to Veronese's visual interplay. Tourists come and go and I remain standing beside the altar and Saint Sebastian's painted body peppered with arrows.

This is the tolerance of place. The phenomenon of cruising. A tolerance that the Internet cannot replace. The actual space becomes a nexus of phenomena experienced on multiple planes.

The Leather bar as sanctuary.