Preface: The Sacred Mind And The PLAYFUL SPIRIT

31 October 2025

The civic fantasy confession written on the eve of Halloween: Locker Room of 52 — might seem like a premeditated lucid dream. Yet it’s one of the realest moments in my bank of juicy memory.
It honours the serene and playful defiance of men and how we turn hidden realms into rituals of meaning. We do this for ourselves and to survive the bureaucratic theatre and surveillance machines. 

Gay men have an innate ability to channel the serene. When you wield this inner charge it can provoke an entire class of reactions from the comical to the calculated to the serene reflection. But the spookiest of all is how it haunts the systems and people that shame this voltage in themselves. 

Their own failures to evolve continue to be potatoed to us to process for them. We know this — but we can never abandon the courage to speak it back at the clowns behind the curtain. 

They expect us to join them onstage while they tighten their nipple-clamps in punishing ways. For a while now, our community has been clamped by the funding control machines, boxed-up inside the rainbow theatre, then sidelined by Cinderella’s pantomime.

We are responsible for defending our spirit against systems that shame the serene and punish the playful. We don’t have to play along in tired submission.

No more loyalty biscuits in exchange for a dip in the diversity fondue. 

We set the pace and the spirit of the culture. We decide where meaning resides. If we don’t, they will assign it with a media release, a LinkedIn puff piece, and a rainbow trophy for their civic mantlepiece. 

If public money was diverted back to us, away from propping up inclusion theatre and piecemeal money machines — we wouldn’t need to compete for scraps, sacrifice our souls to be gobbled into KPIs, and self-censor our stories to survive. This applies to every clamped and muzzled community right now. 

No more clapping for the pantomime. Say no to nipple clamping and self-censoring for the compliance machine. I’ve seen the control room up close, looking botched up backstage. It’s nothing more than cowardice in Kmart drag. 

Happy Halloween.

The Locker Room of 52. The final cabaret

30 October 2025

There’s something about the locker room that’s sexy, poetic and political to a guy like me. Even the kind in the basement at work.
Even when no one is watching.

My final cabaret in 52 took place in a realm of mythic ancestry. The only room that didn’t make me feel like I was sinking in the fondue.

Right after I was shepherded by sheepish security into the marble lobby, I pulled a sharp and sneaky and went down into that sexy room. Even though a ring of clowns were teetering in their prowl.
Salivating on the edge of juicy,
their javelin rods to
stick and flounce me.

It was a sexy start to the day.
It got me up and rising for
a headphone session early.
Moon Safari foreplay:
Sexy Boy on replay.
Feeling myself in sexy civic fantasy.
A whip around the locker room
with sexy policy candy.

To the guards that were summoned at 07:30 to partake in
Literary Lucid Sexy vs. Fragile Panic Play —
Did you piece it back together or did it change you in some way?
Did reality make a sudden call or were you seduced back in by Disto?

I hope it’s not the sticky distortion that suffocates the sacred mind.
I hope the gummy bears don’t haunt you as you sleep tonight.
I hope you’re doing ok these days inside The Clown’s Battalion.