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An Interview with Julia Eff

Julia Eff

How does neutrois differ from other nonbinary terms like genderqueer or androgynous? With gender-related language so swiftly evolving, what does neutrois mean to you?

Neutrois is sometimes just written as the null symbol, which in math stands for an empty set but looks like a little “NO!” sign, which obviously stands for “STOP WHATEVER BULLSHIT YOU’RE DOING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW, MY MOST RIGHTEOUS DUDE”. So neutrois is the complete absence of gender, not a queering or blending of genders or taking elements of the binary, plus the fun and excitement of constant dysphoria with no cure that makes you want to claw your own face off.

For me, neutrois is just the empty set. It’s being completely outside the concept of genders and not wanting to look at it or think about it and feeling like nothing, but also an alien and a sick bass line and a snowstorm. It’s a lot of wishing we were all just floating brains in jars, or I could equip the whole world with mind-jamming technology so they wouldn’t make any more assumptions about me based on preconceived notions tied to how I look and nobody knew anything about me that I didn’t tell them. Most of my problems are other people and the body I affectionately refer to as my soggy trash-husk. I’m very comfortable with myself as a floating brain creature.


Your book touches on feeling something was “off” about you growing up. How did you arrive at the label of 'neutrois' for yourself and the way you feel?

I don’t know when I figured out my Overall Bad Feelings had gone from “you are crazy and cannot fix yourself” to “you are not the letter it says on your drivers license”, but it was a long ways coming. I always struggled with how I looked not matching how I saw me in my head, not because I was particularly ugly or anything but because everything I did just felt wrong in every direction no matter where I tried, so there was a lot of grasping at straws when I was younger and now I look back on everything prior to like, age 23 with a mixture of shame and sadness. I guess I sort of figured it out for myself after another average garden-variety Julia moment of explaining to somebody that life would have been better if I’d just been born Twiggy Ramirez, and finally just ended up doing a lot of googling. There wasn’t the sheer level of gender discourse on the internet back in 2011 that there is now so it was a pretty hard search and it was a goddamn miracle when I found something. I’m so strong in every aspect of my me-ness that it was not a pleasant thing to have to suffer through cuz that meant not knowing, y’know?.

In 2011, genderqueer/genderfluid and androgyny were emphasized as not having to include dysphoria, and being a mix of genders instead of being separated from the concept entirely so those didn’t fit me. And even when I found the term neutrois, it wasn’t included in the umbrella of “true” transness because there’s no roadmap for a genderfree transition, so Every Thug unfortunately has some pretty weird “I’M TRANS BUT NOT!!!!!!” shit going on in it and now I want to claw my face off when I listen to myself talk, which is I guess an improvement overall since I’m such a cringe factory. There’s an AFI lyric, “we’re the empty set, just floating through and wrapped in skin”, which is equally cringey but super awesome, and I scratched it into all my notebooks when I was younger because it meant so much to me so when I finally found a word that represents “the empty set” as the way to explain myself made me feel so safe in myself, and a lot better than “well...idk...I feel like a girl who’s pretending to be a boy who’s dressed as a girl who dressed as a boy...ok but do u kno what Twiggy Ramirez looks like??”

Over the years I’ve come to use genderfree, gendermagical, genderweird, and genderwizard to describe myself too. Like yeah bruh, I’m a level 96 gender mage with +40 bandaid powers and massive anxiety, the fuck is you?


You also mention some people in your life being less than accepting of who you were at the time. Has Every Thug Is A Lady done anything to change the gender views of anyone in your life that may not have been so accepting before?

I don’t think so. I cut a lot of people out of my life before, during, and after writing the zine and haven’t felt the need to really go back and check on people that were known assholes five years ago, y’know? A lot of people I mention in the zine for being dismissive transphobic shitcanoes were already long gone by the time I made the first copies for exactly that reason. I have a hard enough time living with myself some days, I don’t need that kind of nonsense in my life.

But what the zine has done is make it easier for new people to be welcomed into my weird little world. If anybody has any questions, I can direct them to the book or its follow-up zine Whatstheirname. I wrote it originally as a way to get my friends and people around me up to speed on the situation without having to talk about it all the time, so it’s actually served that purpose really well.


You wrote Every Thug Is A Lady five years ago. That's a long time. How do you relate to it now as an artist and as a person five years down the road?

I didn’t expect it to take off the way it did. The first run was like, 30 copies, just for friends. So as an artist, it’s surreal to be thinking of how many thousands of people have read this now and still be talking about it five years later. Pioneers picked it up as a book because I threatened to take it out of print cuz I was really just sick of looking at it--it was in the right place at the right time and became this force of nature on me, so it’s weird as an artist to have that be the thing that people ask me about all the time when it’s not the thing I’m the most proud of at all, because I’m my own worst critic and there’s things I’d go back and change in a heartbeat but I won’t because it’s a time capsule of who I was and where I was artistically at a point in time. It bums me out when my more recent stuff gets overlooked in favor of the thing that I’m like OH GOD WHY I COULD HAVE SPACED MY LINES SO MUCH BETTER THAT DOODLE IS STUPID OH GOD I HATE IT about, but it’s really cool to still be getting letters from people saying this helped them somehow, or they saw it and it resonated so perfectly with them that they went out and made their own zine too.

As a person, I’ve grown and changed so much in the last five years that I look back at 2011-me and go “damn kid, you were a hot mess, but ya got a lot of heart”. I’m grateful to myself, though, cuz this was the foot in the door to the zine community again and now I’m involved and go to events and have met so many cool friends and inspiring artists from it. I hate it sometimes, but it’s put me in a spot where I can do the things I’ve dreamed of doing since I started doing zines in 2005. I’m happy I made it but like all the other things I made when I was just a couple years out of high school, I want to bury it in a deep hole and never see it again cuz the perfectionist art-shaming asshole side of me is so real.


Along similar lines, what have you been up to since ETIAL came out? What are you working on these days?

EVERYTHING. At the moment I’m:

• compiling a Marilyn Manson fanzine called The Devil In My Lunchbox.

• working on a bunch of stuff that revolves around Myspace, shitty bands, fan culture, and archiving the internet.

• trying to properly assemble my zine collection into something worthy of being called a public archive, but that’s probably gonna come more after I move into this house I’m buying and it’s got space to be  organized instead of just crammed into some paper cases in the corner of our living room.

• following my lifelong dream of becoming basically a record producer for zines, helping cool people with cool ideas but a lack of technical zinemaking experience make shit. So I’m collaborating with a few friends at the moment to help them get their first (or second) zines out. This winter I did the layouts and collage work for my friend California Rachel’s six-foot-long zine about Indiana Jones, Truly The Shittiest Archaeologist Ever, and we’re working on her second one right now, which is sadly not about Indiana Jones but still really good.

• Last year I did a series of mini zines about growing up in a small shitty farm town, and overall I’m working to get more back into the satire-with-a-message stuff I was doing when I first started doing zines, but right now I’m focusing on the music end of things cuz those are the feelings I’m having at the moment. This summer I’m doing a reading at Plan-It X Fest in Indiana (which fulfills my lifelong dream of doing zine things in a music festival context, so even if it’s not Warped Tour [and lbr it’s way better than Warped Tour] IT’LL DO) and I’m hoping to put together some readings and zine-y events in Detroit real soon!


Where is the best place readers can find all of your work?

If you want to read all my things, my webstore (crapandemic.storenvy.com) is the best bet. If you just want to keep abreast of my hollering, I have a tumblr (crapandemic.tumblr.com) and a twitter (twitter.com/julia_eff), but people follow that a lot expecting insightful zine things and then unfollow me when they realize I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m literally just a bag of anxious raccoons that just wants to make high-pitched wailing noises about emo bands and have a good time.

To read an excerpt from Every Thug Is A Lady, check out Please Stop Trying, You're Obviously Never Gonna Understand It...

Julia Eff is the author of Every Thug Is A Lady: Adventures Without Gender. Julia’s latest zine is called Brothers and Sisters, I am an Atomic Bomb.

Please Stop Trying, You’re Obviously Never Gonna Understand It…

The following is a transcribed excerpt from Every Thug Is A Lady: Adventures Without Gender (Pioneers Press).

Neutrois refers to an individual who has no gender and does not identify as male or female. Many have gender dysphoria very much like that of trans-people. It is often denoted with the ‘null’ symbol, meaning empty set.

Every Thug Is A Lady

I frequently get misgendered in public, mostly because dealing with people of alternate gender identities is still a niche problem that the general population isn’t hip to, and I have no idea whether I should correct people or not. Probably my #1 source of anxiety in life is the thought of inconveniencing other people with my existence, thus compounding the problem.

What if I correct them and they get confused and call me by the other binary gender and I still make a frownyface and the get ULTRASUPERCONFUSED, and I have to correct them AGAIN? I might as well just die at that point because of how inconvenient I’m being. They don’t care. They just want to get me to sign up for a monthly coupon book. They’re making minimum wage. They don’t want to deal with my confusing, made-up-sounding gender identity issue: They have a quota to meet, and I am suddenly the lady at Starbucks with six kids in tow ordering a double nonfat skim skinny vanilla latte, three shots — ONE decaf and TWO Pike Place —nine pumps of syrup NO MORE AND NO LESS no whip with cinnamon at exactly 165° and DEAR GOD DON’T TOUCH THE LID, IF YOU TOUCH THE LID WITH YOUR HAND-OILS YOU WILL LITERALLY RUIN MY DAY when they were just trying to be polite by using a proper title. It’s not their fault. Until I turned around and started talking, they thought I was some sort of homeless male teenager who likes Rocky Horror. Now I’m making a scene, and taking up their time, and they just want me to go away. And I, in my day-job, am a lowly photo tech who is forced to interact with plenty of longwinded people who generate scenes and talk altogether too much, so I know how uncomfortable it is. Plus, I’m pretty much the laziest person in existence, and have no idea what I want people to call me in all manner of pronouns so I just … don’t. And I don’t really have anything to correct them to! How awkward is that, “uhh, you called me ma’am and I’m not.” ‘Oh, sorry, sir!’ “I’m not a sir either … uhh … I’ll be going then …” So I just don’t bother. Cuz I’m lazy, and people are stupid and easily confused.

One time I got in a fight on Facebook with my best IRL friend over a status talking about my wanting nothing more in life at that moment than a canned pasta product and a pair of boxer-briefs. I am a girl, he contested, therefore I have no dangly-bits that need the sweet carded-cotton cradling that only a pair of boxer-briefs can provide. It was probably the stupidest argument I’ve ever been in on the internet, and I have had arguments on the internet about base tones of semi-permanent vegetable hair dye.

But it actually really upset me, because here’s a guy that’s known me for 4 years, who I consider almost an extension of myself, and he’s arguing gender politics in regards to fucking UNDERPANTS on Facebook. I expected him to know better, but then again we don’t talk about all that lame touchy-feely hugboxy gendery shit. We have heated discussions about how much we dislike Max Green in Escape the Fate. We don’t do gender politics.

And really, I don’t mind it, otherwise I wouldn’t be friends with him. We do things like mosh together, and drive to Toledo together, and go to IHOP and eat French Toast together. We are, quite simply, bros. We’ve been bros since day 1 — all the way back in 2007 at a FFTL show when I was a raccoon and he was a recovering suburban thug. He doesn’t treat me like he treats the girls he rolls with — I don’t know if his gender-confusion radar is so finely-tuned that he saw past my trying-too-hard from the start or if he’s just picking up on the general air of neutrality and mosh-readiness I throw off, but I’m OK with it. I’d much rather get in the pit with him than bitch, complain and start drama. Maybe that’s it — I don’t act like a whiny bitch, so he doesn’t treat me like a whiny bitch.

And no, I haven’t come out and told him, “hey brah I’m not really a boy or a girl so plz refer to me with the singular “they” kthx let’s get IHOP nao plz?” and that sort of bugs me (it feels like lying! But he probably already has it figured …) but on the other hand, does it matter? He’d probably just push me and I’d fall down in a parking lot again and scrape my back all up and then my mom would accuse us of having sex again (LOL, NO) and honestly it doesn’t really matter cuz he already treats me like a person and not like a fucking vagina.

I love him to bits. BROS

To read our interview with Julia check out the aptly titled An Interview with Julia Eff.

Julia Eff is the author of Every Thug Is A Lady: Adventures Without Gender. Julia’s latest zine is called Brothers and Sisters, I am an Atomic Bomb.

I Am a Federal Prisoner

Prison Bars 

I am a federal prisoner and incarceration has changed my outlook on many things in many ways during the course of these past six and a half years.

For starters, I outright disagree with my sentence of 100-months for my crime (Unlawful Possession of a Firearm by a Convicted Felon) even though I willingly admit that I did commit the crime. Even though I voice my opinion, does my view or outlook really matter anymore?

Since I am now a felon, I carry about the same prestige as a cow dressed in a khaki suit.

The little things that I used to take for granted will never again be little after I leave here.

For starters, I will look at my fridge with nothing less than marvel and admiration. The monotony of prison food has rubbed much of the positivity right out of me.

For instance, every Wednesday we have hamburgers, every Thursday we have chicken, and every Friday we get fish. These are the same meals every, single, week. They NEVER change. Why they place these same meats on our tray with such frequency, I do not know.

One thing I do know is that after a few years of the same exact routine, the occasional steak, venison, or hotdog from time to time will excite me.

Still, like a good little boy, I eat my burgers, chicken, and fish as soon as I am able to do so. I have discovered that a prisoner's enjoyment of his food is equivalent to his hunger at the time or the first bite.

Something else that excites me is the thought of driving around in a car. This will be a new experience after so many years sequestered behind cinder blocks, concertina wire, with a platoon of armed guards patrolling the perimeter of their fortress. Regaining my ability to roam the world in all its glory is one of the things that I look forward to more than anything.

After a certain amount of time passes, the inmates begin seeing their days filled with such monotony that they know if they do not fill the hours with something, they will go crazy.

To combat this, some watch TV. Others exercise. Some gamble. A few play cards, chess, or other games to occupy their time. When one gets to the bare essence of it, all prison happens to be is nothing more than a battle with the clock and calendar.

I think the best thing a person can do is to find a way to pass the time as they add to their intelligence or skill set in some way.

Learning from books has been a great method to pass the time and learn some great things. Some quotes have been very inspirational, to wit:

“... the question was, how different could I be? We don't really choose what we are except within a certain range[ ... } I did make one vow: I would feed my hunger for knowledge. I would make my time serve me while I served it.”

Education of a Felon, Edward Bunker

Seeing little reason not to follow this advice, I began a new itinerary for myself. This involved reading as much and as often as I could, writing as many essays and short stories as I could and as often, keeping a journal, composing letters to loved ones, and adding to the overall catalog of writing that will come with me when I leave this prison in five more months.

Since I immersed myself in a world of words, as opposed to the worlds of debauchery and decadence, I feel that I am making a positive impact on my life, my future, and hopefully a few of those around me.

Although this may sound a little clichéd to others, that does not concern me whatsoever. The only thing that concerns me is that I stop this cycle of poor choices that has thus far kept me incarcerated for the majority of my youth.

“The only real victory that really counts in prison is survival. But survival means more than simply being alive. It's not just the body that must survive a jail term: the spirit and the will and the heart have to make it through as well. If any one of them is broken or destroyed, the man whose living body walks through the gate, at the end of his sentence, can't he said to have survived it.”

Shantaram, Gregory David Roberts

I feel that my spirit and will and heart have survived and I feel that I am of a little different class than those around me. If that makes me any better than them, why am I still in the same exact place that they are?

As I focus on my future, I want to show my friends and family that I have learned from my mistakes and I am ready to move on with my life.

I also need to share with the public the necessity of making some reforms with our vast prison system. Something has to make these environments more positive, allowing those incarcerated to do something constructive with their lives. If the prison system is not trying to make its prisoners better in some way, what is the purpose of this massive incarceration?

After all, a change for the better has to start somewhere, right? Why not with me?

Besides, who better to talk about the dismal life in the pasture besides one of the recently released cows?

I am currently a federal prisoner but will not be one for very long ...

A Very Bad Dream

I woke up from a very bad dream this morning. Somehow, somewhere, some way, I walked into a room and one of my "friends" had a medley of drugs: kilo bags of white powder, assorted pill bottles, and kilo blocks of marijuana. I woke up before any conversation could even take place between us.

This is one of my biggest fears ... leaving prison and then coming right back. My own choices, having no discipline and my addiction are the main problems. I've had zero interest going through drug treatment here in the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Once I discovered that each person graduating puts an extra $111,000 in the FBOP's budget (war chest), this pushed me away even further. I have no interest in making my jailors richer than they already are.

Addiction is a demon I will force myself to fight alone.

Another reason that I say this is because organized religion was shoved into my face ever since I've been a child. I see this blind devotion referred to as "faith" and fail to see anything but the mind control and brain washing of the masses. I'm Norwegian and I've had thousands of my ancestors killed in the name of the church. I fail to see any parallels between Christianity and waging war unless it's about power. I associate AA/NA with a Higher Power, and thus, not of any interest. So, I fight my battle all alone and I'm scared.

What if I fail? I know what, and that is what scares me.

I'm set up about as comfortably as I could possibly imagine here in federal prison: I have a cell at the end of a long hallway; an MP3 player with a bunch of songs; several pairs of excellent headphones and earbuds; literally a library of books I've purchased or had mailed in from family and/or friends; a comfortable set of sweats, shoes, boots, and winter gear; and an established routine that eats up my remaining days.

My sentence vanishes as I continue with my hobbies and activities throughout the day. I have been my own savior in this prison.

If I get out and fall back into the same old patterns, I lose not only my freedom, I also lose everything I listed above. Losing my current comfort frightens me.

It turns out that my "dream" was actually a nightmare...

Jesse Marchus is a writer and soon-to-be former inmate at a federal prison in Wisconsin. He can be contacted by mail at the address below.

Jesse Marchus
PO Box 667
Bismarck, ND 58502