I used to get asked that all the time when I lived in New York. People would come up on the street and ask you "Do you like comedy?" and then rope you into "free tickets" to see a show with a $15 drink minimum. "No", I would answer, "Do you have any tragedy or a good epic ballad?" and then they would say , "Dick", but I would have moved on.
I've always wondered if my dislike of comedians stems from my long-held fear of clowns. There's just something creepy about people who's goal is to make you laugh. "Look at me, aren't I funny?" they say. To which I reply, "No, please stop making me watch your public displays of insecurity." Actually, it's not public displays of insecurity that bother me. I mean, that would make me a hypocrite. It's the idea that you sell your insecurity and neuroses as something to laugh at. "You're gonna love this one!", you tell me, but I'm just mad because you've deprived me of the chance to laugh at you, by obligating me to laugh with you.
But since this is "Let There Be Love" week here at tMR, let me say that all the stuff I just said doesn't apply to Jon LaJoie, who's a genius. He's caught the eyes of Will Ferrell and Howard Stern, but don't hold that against this everyday normal guy from Montreal.
Uh-Oh. Video of Michelle Obama Ranting About "Whitey" Leaked
We've heard the rumors, and it seems that someone in the RNC (or maybe a disaffected Hillary supporter?) has released what everyone up 'til now thought was a fairy tale: A video of Michelle Obama at a Louis Farrakhan audience talking about a dude named "Whitey" and saying some rather uncharitable things about him. I guess Larry Johnson was right after all. Bob Beckel called it! G.O.P. strategist Roger Stone was on the money when he said "What other reason would [Hillary] have for staying in the race than this video?"
Once you see the video (link below-- it's too gut-wrenching to embed on this page) I think you'll see what a big mistake America has made in nominating Barack Obama. No matter how affirming of the ideals of America, how much the world embraces his vision of America, no matter how adept at foreign policy, no matter how many stadia he fills with people seeking genuine transformative change in this country, nothing makes up for this. I thought this was just a lie being perpetuated by rabid partisan Clintonista's (like HillBuzz) desperate to give their failed candidate another nanosecond of spotlight. I was convinced that their gambit was nothing more than a pathetic attempt at Rovian innuendo, a sad embarrassing graceless note to the funeral dirge that is the Clinton hold on the Democratic Party.
But I was wrong. I apologize. Clinton people, you were right all along.
Are any of you keeping up with the YouTube experiment Rivers Cuomo of Weezer is doing? Back in March or so, Rivers called on YouTube viewers to come up with a song title (originally "80s Radio") and then led them through the process, inviting would be rockstars to offer up chord structures, lyrics, bridges and adjustments. The result isn't so much music by committee as it is, "Rivers picks what he likes and you all go with it", which means the result, now called "We're Turning Up the Radio" doesn't totally suck. In fact, it's sort of rad.
But what's more rad is the sort of master class/ throw the baby bird from the nest aesthetic the experiment's taken on. Hundreds of people each week audition their ideas before Prof. Cuomo through YouTube videos, which people then comment on themselves. It's sort of Darwinian, with each new generation of the song spawningmutants. But it's all collaborative in the best sense of the word; that the song sounds sort of like a Weezer song isn't much of a surprise, but it has no one author who can claim credit. Cuomo actually makes a great, if eccentric teacher. He's unafraid to say when something doesn't work and quick to praise when it does. This is the kind of stuff that makes the Internet such a cool place to live in.
Shortly, Rivers promises to "offer the song up to the lions", whatever that means. Stay tuned.
Asked for a reason he actually opposes gay marriage, anti-gay marriage lawyer Dan Schweitzer flounders before Bill O'Reilly, comparing gay and straight relationships as being as different as winter and summer. Bill-O, after trying to give the guy as many opportunities to come up with a reason as possible concedes that all the justifications are lame and bigoted. I know this has been up for a bit, but if you haven't seen it, you should.
Weezer Gives Chris Crocker an Extra 15 Seconds of Fame
Which should be enough for me to dismiss them forever, but c'mon! It's Weezer. It's the You Tube-eriffic "Pork & Beans", the first single from the Red album, out June 3rd. I hope Rivers deloused after giving Crocker a hug. That kid doesn't need a hug. He needs a nice long stay in a sanitarium. Think I'm being mean? Here's what the kid's been up to lately.
Check out the latest installment of Flaming Politics at After Elton. This week on Flaming Politics, I put Hillary-talk to rest (at least in my own mind) as I conduct a post-mortem on what worked and what didn't work in her campaign, no character assassination needed. Also, gay victims of the Nazi Holocaust are honored, a Birmingham, AL Mayor puts the kebosh on a pride parade and what you can do to start getting involved in the fight for equal marriage.
Japhy eschews the usual cavalcade of sing-alongs, cartoons, and game show parodies to give you a firsthand, heartfelt, on-the-ground account of the historic marriage decision in his adopted home state of California. You know he's serious, because he's wearing a suit; though it's possible he's just trying to nab wedding invites.
Does this decision really matter? Will we ever achieve true equality? Don't expect the answers here, but it's a good place to start the conversation.
HIL-arious. Sunset Blvd. is, like most marginally employed screenwriters without a car in L.A., one of my favorite movies ever. And who better to play Norma, than -- oh, just watch it. I mean, it's really really mean, but oh-so-awesome.
I had a chance to catch Tarsem's (The Cell, R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" video) new self-financed film, The Fall at the HAMMER Museum a couple of weeks ago. It's a dazzling grown-up fantasy about Alexandria, a young immigrant girl (CatincaUntaru, destined for Haley Joel Osmet-ish adoration) who is told a fairy tale story by Roy Walker, a suicidal paraplegic stuntman (Pushing DaisiesLee Pace) in an early 20th C. California hospital.
One woman at the QnA gushed to Tarsem that the film was an arrival on the order of the Beatles coming to America and while the film is fantastic, it's not that good. Still, it's a visual feast for the eyes, having been shot on location in over 24 countries. Tarsem said that he kept shooting until continuing would have meant selling the house, at which point he said "we're finished". The result is my favorite kind of story: a story about storytelling. Roy, awash in self-pity makes a terribly unreliable narrator and Alexandria's youth makes her a sometimes maddeningly confused listener. This explains such wonderful turns like Alexandria's vision of an Indian being a grand warrior of the subcontinent, while Roy goes on about how he has "had many squaws".
Interesting side note is that Tarsem's sort of evil. Since the film was shot before Pace's lead turn on Pushing Daises, he was an unknown (his most notable role was as transexual Calpernia Adams in Soldier's Boy) and the director told his cast and crew that Pace really had no use of his legs. One wheelchair-bound crewmember refuses still to speak to Tarsem, but he stands by his decision, saying that it "changed the whole tone of the set in a way that made the film work".
I'm one of like three people in the world who hated Pan's Labyrinth, a movie this film will draw inevitable comparisons to. But while both films feature young headstrong girls living in both a thrilling fantasy world and a dark everyday reality, The Fall's Alexandra has a plucky gumption that you root for. She's not content to be seduced by her imagination. She wrestles with it, with Roy's adult self-pity and without embracing sentimentality (the film is rated, rather unfairly, an R in the States, while Germany for instance, gave it their equivalent of a G rating) the film manages a life-affirming tone. It's a beautiful film that wisely gives the audience enough breathing room that really can get lost in the fantasy.
Ryan Adams has a blog. It's called "Foggy". He started the blog, it turns out, because he's very lonely now that everyone he's ever loved has rejected him. But he's okay with it. "I hope I die alone and under a lot of work" he writes, adding "I am better for myself and other alone." Other tidbits include the fact he never dated Alanis or Winona, that he's pretty sure he's going deaf and that he's been two years sober. As far as awkward self-confessional blogs, it's pretty good.
Unfortunately for us, blogging only made Ryan's loneliness more acute and yesterday, he decided to say goodbye to Foggy, and to us in the video message above, about how miserable he is, how he can never be loved, set to slow piano and intercut with barren trees in Rockefeller Center. Now, I love Ryan Adams' music. I love that he's pretty fucking sure he's the best rock star on Earth and I myself have been known to engage in some maudlin public self-excoriation from time to to time. But Ryan Adams really needs to learn the power of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.
Obama Responds to "Bittergate"- 'Yeah, People ARE Bitter"
You know, this was the big lesson I walked away with when I did my religious roadside attractions documentary-- people in Middle America aren't hateful. The reason they jump on all these conservative bandwagon issues (extreme pro-life, anti-gay, creationism) has more to do with their own anger and frustration at the poverty, lack of access to education and lack of economic opportunity they find themselves in. It's not a talking point-- if you want to combat the worst of social conservatism the way you do it is by providing these areas with good jobs, education and the opportunity to develop their own communities.
More Points if You Cry Alot and a Few More if You Cut Yourself
Okay, cutting your wrists is stupid, but blaming some cultural movement for it is stupider. See: Punk rock, Kurt Cobain, hippies, flappers, The Sorrows of Young Werther. On a related note, I'm totally fascinated with the way teens now identify themselves by musical demographics-- emo scene, punks, rockers, etc... It's like The Warriors as played out on MySpace.
A fantastic video of a panel discussion on Britney, but especially on the difference between the regular media and bloggers. Perez haters will enjoy this, the rest of you will find it interesting. I love that the NYU School of Journalism is having serious conversations about the journalistic ethics of the paparazzi and the "parasites" who "steal" stories. The interesting thing for me as someone with a foot in both traditional media and blogging is that a real distinction is made between reporting, which involves gathering, researching and verifying a story and blogging, which is almost exclusively commenting on the work of others.
So, I used my flu as an excuse not to shave. A week later, my face looked sort of dirty--in the right light. The men in my family have almost no facial hair. My Dad's part Native American and my brother and I both inherited the general lack of scruff. Add on top of that the fact that I'm blond and my dreams of being a rugged lumberjack are pretty much never going to come true.
Guys always tell me how lucky I must be not to have to shave, but when I was younger, the inability to grow sideburns haunted me. I even bought Rogaine once and slapped it on my face in hopes that I would grow something. Doesn't work, by the way. Which is all to say that the idea of using a straight razor, along with all the necessary accessories and rituals, really appeals to me.
How to Survive the Flu (Using Mainly the Internet)
Like a fool, on the first warm day in L.A. (you know, when it jumps from the frigid 70s to the low 90s) I decide, "Hey, let's go frolic in the sun!" Now, you have to realize, I'm incredibly pale. I also had been stressing myself about work and well, honestly, had been feeling a little lonely. So, I hiked and sweat and woke up the next day covered in sweat and the conviction I had been beaten with crowbars in my sleep, ie: the flu. But I'm on the mend now, thanks to the Internet! Should you find yourself sick this season, here's my patented prescription that will guarantee you too, shall live to see the Springtime.
First, be sure you're really sick. It's possible you're just lazy or apathetic. Imagine doing something fun. If you find yourself doing it, chances are you're faking it. If you try to do it and start groaning, you have the real deal.
Start groaning. Some people try to be cheerful when they're sick. This is stupid. You're sick, dude: Act like it. If you're a guy, stop shaving. Clothing should be changed only when necessary and then, they should be of the "sweatpant" or "tracksuit" variety. Make your room like a nest. Pile up dishes. Listen to the sounds of children laughing outside and scorn them. While you're scorning them is a good time to scorn everyone who has done you a perceived wrong. You may have to dig back to childhood for this if you're self-actualized happy person, but for most of us, this will be easy. This is a lot like counting sheep and eventually, you'll drift oft to a fitful, hateful sleep. If you're lucky, those who've done you wrong will have horrible things done to them in your dreams. Most likely though, you'll dream of sweatpants.
Wake-up. It's 4:30 in the morning. Your t-shirt is drenched, but your lips are chapped. This is good. It means you are probably going to die. Change clothes, grab another bottle of Italian soda water (you bought this earlier in a semi-delusional state that may also explain why you bought five cans of crushed tomatoes) and go onto the Internet to find out why you are dying. WebMD is the obvious choice, though Wikipedia will be more lurid in its descriptions. I prefer Wrong Diagnosis; mainly because of the name. Narrow your list of potential ailments to Cat Scratch Disease, Bacterial Meningitis, or the far worse Meninginococcal disease. Base this last one on the fact that "whimpering" is listed as a symptom. Lie awake in bed wondering how long you'll have to be dead for before your roommate bothers to check in on you. Pass out.
It is now morning, by which we mean "sometime after 2pm". You're woozy and sad and foraging for food. You eat half a samosa and a cereal bar. You decide to finally check out hulu.com, the internet TV site. You're thrilled to see they have a bunch of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia episodes. You watch all of them. In one sitting. These people are terrible! You don't feel so bad for imagining your second grade teacher being attacked by wolves, now. You then catch up on The Simpsons and maybe a Family Guy or two, then suddenly realize that watching eight hours of TV straight is hard work and you still feel like crap.
Which is why you go for the hard stuff: Sea Otters. WARNING: Sea otters are the Cipro of internet video. Watching their adorable antics in this state may make you cry. You'll remember how you wanted to make a model of a sea otter in G&T as a kid and then you'll watch the little sea otters holding hands so they don't drift apart and you may, just may say out loud "Little sea otter dudes, you know what the drill is. You know what the fucking drill is". Let it all out.
Go back onto Hulu. It's possible you slept sometime between now and then; you really forgot. The mounting piles of dishes by your bedside indicate either that you've been eating or developing a ceramics hoarding fetish. Either way, it's clear you're moving. So, back to more Hulu. Start watching an original Battlestar Galactica. Colonel Tigh is a sober black man! Richard Hatch was once mildly attractive! For some reason (boring!) you check your email while the episode plays in another window. "Checking" here of course means deleting spam and ignoring any email that could make you feel less alone.
Watch Firefly on Hulu because you never saw it and hey, Joss Whedon's like a genius, right? Realize quickly that Joss Whedon's actually sort of a douchebag and tell Summer Glau that it'll be okay because soon she'll be a Terminatrix instead of another of Whedon's girls- who- have- been- turned- by- men- into -weapons -but- will- now- take- control- of- her- power- blah- blah- blah- dude -by-now -you- should -know- that- no-girl -is-gonna -bang -a-guy- who-majored -in- anything- called- womyn's- studies heroines.
Spend a huge amount of time on Wikipedia reading about Issac Asimov's Foundation trilogy. Realize it's not a trilogy. Think about what a cool movie it would be. Find out New Line already wasted millions trying to do that. Remember that you actually only made it three-quarters of the way through the first book when you were a kid. Remember how you made dioramas out of plastic model parts of scenes from I, Robot when you were in elementary school. You sure liked model building when you were a kid. Then read about Asimov's Empire series. Then the Robot series. See if you can find any first editions of The Naked Sun on eBay. Then read up on philosophical arguments about the theory of the mind. Realize that at your heart, you're a major nerd. Feel superior about it. Pass out.
Check emails again, only this time, realize how much crap you have to do. Pass out again.
Read the news. God, the world sucks. Pass out again.
Realize you're probably not going to die. Start to make plans.
"Now you see me now you don't, I come and go": Under heavy sniper fire in Pennsylvania today, Hillary Clinton took time away from bringing peace to Ireland to answer some reporters questions and remind them that they can probably get another news cycle out of Rev. Jeremiah Wright. You'll notice she answers the totally random question from notes which she reads from the podium. Immediately after the event, she joined Sinbad in taking down Kim Jong Il with her bare hands.
You say "misspoke", I say, "lied". While this clip is very funny, Hillary's unbelievable exaggerations about her "experience" are finally coming to light. There's nothing wrong with being a First Lady and she seemed to have been a good one, but we've already had a President who exaggerates danger to play on our fears. Can we really stomach another?
I love supporter-generated videos. This one, "It's Raining John McCain", will make your eyes bleed. However, since misguided sympathy for tone-deaf women seems to drive out voters, maybe this'll give him a bump.
If you do, you wind up being forcibly interviewed by James St. James. My shame shows up around 3:24. And though I seemed pretty gung-ho about it, the only thing I went home from the Jared Gold show at Union Station with that night was the beginnings of a hangover.
Everything that's amazing about the Irish is right here in John Ford's fight sequence from The Quiet Man. John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara (her look after she says "I'll have the supper ready for you" is the funniest, sexiest thing I've ever seen) and of course, the indomitable Victor McLaglen. This is my mother's favorite movie and this sequence is probably the funniest brawl ever put to celluloid. Ford, mostly known for Westerns, was famous for his love of his Irish heritage and the way he treated his cast and crew like one big family. Both are on display here. Happy St. Patrick's Day!
The NYTimes asks "Why Do Their Wives Stand There, Beside Their Man?" today, looking at Silda Wall Spitzer, Lee Hart, Suzanne Craig, Dina Matos McGreevey and of course, Hillary Clinton. It's an interesting question: Are these ladies dupes being used as political pawns or are they protecting their family? There's no question all of them were duped to begin with, but by supporting their philandering husbands publicly, are they reframing the debate as a personal one, as opposed to a public one?
My two cents is that if the people deign you worthy of public office, with all its enormous power and privilege, the least you can do is keep a lid on the whoring while you're in office, be it with a whore, a page, an intern, you name it. If you really get all hot and bothered and can't control yourself anymore, you can always go fuck your wife.
If the Dems lose to this guy it will be entirely their own fault. I don't get it. Does he think he's the nominee because he's the most partisan Republican around? It's like a pod person took over his brain.
Though I'm not a Hillary supporter, I think she's probably overqualified for the job she seems to be angling for in her latest "Save your babies! Boowgawooga" ad.
Clinton hack Rep. Hillary Tubbs Jones says of the photo of Barack Obama wearing a traditional Kenyan outfit, "There's nothing wrong with him wearing the clothes of his native country." By which she obviously means the outfit was manufactured in the U.S. I guess bitch really is the new black.
What with Hillary Clinton winning the gay vote 2 to 1, you'd think by now somebody with design sense or taste or style would get this woman a decent inspiring music video*. At least she has a lock on the Up With People vote. *special thanks to Eric for this one.
This is Little Santa Anita Canyon, just ten miles from downtown L.A. Don't I look badass? Can't thank my buddy Travis enough for showing me this totally frikkin' awesome place and for shooting it so I can show all of you. The parts where we had to swim aren't on camera, because, well, swimming in ice cold water is hard!
This adorable video from the Courage Campaign explains how easy it is for us DTS'ers (that's "decline to state") to vote for a Democrat on Super Tuesday. Just ask for a Dem ballot. Want to vote for a Republican? Too bad. Only the DNC and the poorly named 'American Independent Party (they're wacky conservatives) allow DTS voters to vote in primaries.
Regardless of your affiliation, please take part in history and VOTE.
Everyone's getting in on telling their stories about why they're voting for Barrack Obama at YouBama. The site's owners, two Stanford students unaffiliated with the Obama campaign, describe it as a way "to democratize the election campaign process...voters can say what they want, how they want. Then they vote on the videos so the best ones rise to the top."
And the Award for Best 'Fuck You World' EVER Goes to
16 year old Corey Worthington n'e Delaney of Australia, who threw what sounds like the most freakin' awesome party his Oz upper-middle class tract home development's ever seen. Interviewed on national TV in fur jacket opened up to sunburned nipple-pierced chest, rag doll yellow hair covered with a rainbow-brite-inspired ball cap (I think it's actually a Yankees logo) and his eyes covered by a pair of famous sunglasses, Corey politely declined to engage in the ritual act of public self-flagellation that's expected of the interesting and unique. In short, the dude's a fucking legend.
Sadly, what will happen now is he will do a few shows in Australia, then be flown out to L.A. where he'll show up on a bunch of network shows before E! offers him a deal to produce "Corey Worthington's House Party", which will catch "all the insane action of being fresh and wild down under, hosted by the man with the shades, "Corey Worthington". Paris will guest star. Corey will then start wearing designer versions of his outfits, get really shit-faced at Area all the time before winding up at 22, a drug addict with a low-rent clothing label that retails at stores in WeHo and Chelsea.
But before his famous sunglasses stab out his eyes and devour his soul, Oedipus-style, let's take a moment and give Corey his due. He's awesome, he's stylish and for the moment, doesn't give a flying fuck what you think.
Still sick (less so, but my throat is scratchy enough to prevent podcasting and I seem to want to nap constantly), but I know how fickle my readers are, so here are some awesome things I've been doing in between my delirium tremens. Like the title says, these things will swallow up your day, not that you were doing all that much to begin with:
Jericho: the complete first season online. All the major networks have video on demand versions of their major shows. It's pretty frikkin' awesome. Brought back from the dead by a major fan drive, apoco-drama Jericho will air seven new episodes sometime soon (depending on the writer's strike), but you can catch-up on the first season online.
Truth be told, the show takes a long time to warm up and the producers seem to miss the fact that the reason we love Jack Bauer is because he's a bad ass, not a guy just looking to fit in at the bake sale, but once the town next door goes all Lebensraum on Jericho and we see that the army's wearing a new version of the stars and bars, the show goes nuts.
My proposal is for something I call Riverside Park-- using the footprint of San Francisco's Candlestick Park in the railroad area north of Cesar Chavez Boulevard. It's extremely close to Union Station, could be connected by a "game day shuttle" and once you moved the L.A. County jail out of the area, you could infill the project with mixed-use retail and hi-rise condos. It could then be the third anchor for downtown, continuing the sweep from L.A. Live through Grand Avenue, as well as a catalyst for L.A. River development. What's great, though is that this map gets you thinking about these things.
Also, while I despised the 30-second "lightning round" imposed on candidates at last nights Democratic Debate, the guy on fire (and by my estimation, the most straightforward and Presidential) was Joe Biden. Check it out:
Frequent tMR readers know I have an inexplicable obsession with Bob Fosse's choreography for "The Rich Man's Frug" from Sweet Charity. At karaoke on Monday, they played Beyonce's "Get Me Bodied" video and I sort of went off on my pal Kyle about my "Rich Man's Frug" love, which he obviously had no interest in, but he's nice enough to humor me. So, not knowing when to stop, I planned on sending him both videos for comparison, only to find that somebody's gone and made a mash-up video, already. Check it out. It's sweet.
Sorry for the long delay in posting. As you might know, I spent the last few days in San Diego at the National Gay & Lesbian Journalists' Association National Convention. I met Logo's Jason Bellini, and we got into a whole discussion about blogging and video blogging, especially, which inspired this, my first video podcast. It only took about 3x the amount of time I hoped it would.
In today's podcast, I cover the first day of the conference, which is the LGBT Media Summit, focusing specifically on gay media.
I keep meaning to mention this: I have an interview with Dan Kurtz of Dragonette in the current issue ofInstinct. It's probably one of my favorite interviews. It doesn't hurt that they're a fucking awesome band.
If you're in San Diego next week, I'll be speaking on a panel at the National Gay & Lesbian Journalist's Association (NLJGA) Conference. The panel is called "Surfing Tips: Avoiding Online Riptides" and is about the whole "Is blogging journalism?" debate with forays into what sort of standards traditional media should set for freelancers, etc... It's moderated by none other than Nietzschean superman Ben Patrick Johnson. It's on Thursday at 10:15 a.m. My plan is to blog while doing he panel, because you gotta have a gimmick. I'll be covering the conference throughout next week.
So, it turns out underemployment is a lot more work than one would expect. It's been a little over a week now and I finally have been able to get myself back into the wake-up/plan out work/do work/finish work without feeling like the sky is going to fall on you mode. No real blog today, though-- too much work. Instead, I give you kids from the 80s playing a game from the 60s. I got Powell and Ryan into Mille Bornes last weekend and I'm trying to convince Matthew to do a game night with me. Other than that-- I'm sort of entranced by this video. Why would anyone video tape a game of Mille Bornes? And hell, shorts were short in the 80s.
So, um--this is HI-larious and dead on. I'm especially a fan of "We may be vanilla but our labs are chocolate." But this:
West Coast
Is the start of a a rumble. I love that they shot part of it outside Fred Segal. I wonder if we can expect a Midwest response from Chicago. "Straight out of Naperville", anyone? *I owe Sabin total credit for this. I bow to his YouTube skillz. UPDATE: Actually, the whole thing is an ad campaign for Smirnoff. I fell for viral marketing.
That's right, I forgot to post today. I've got more stuff planned for Snark Week (and a half, maybe?), but in the meantime, check out this classic David Bowie video. Not to sound like a hopeless cynic (it is Snark Week, though), but this one video is more transgressive than every "gay music video" (though I do love this one) I've seen, combined. It's creative, sexy, unmistakable without being sophomoric or pedantic.
One of the problems with having a "gay identity" is that it's by definition, limiting. If gay is this, then it's not that. Culturally, the idea of sexual "orientation"-- straight, gay, bi, whatever--is brand-new new. For most of history, there were just sexual "acts". Now, I'm not advocating returning to that time, but I think lately I've been very aware that my idea of what being gay is, isn't necessarily the same as other gay people. Put more simply, my values and outlook are not the same as every gay man out there, and vice versa.
The problem is, I think the gay community is too narrow in its vision of what it means to be gay. I don't think it's internalized homophobia to not want to be associated with a community who regularly demonize those who don't agree with them and who show a provincial tendency to fight voraciously for their own rights, but who casually segregate themselves racially and economically all the time. It's frustrating to be told by straight people that being gay means liking Madonna, feather boas and loving musical theatre. It's downright infuriating to have other gay people tell you that. Its not that there's anything wrong with those things, it's just self-limiting to say that's all you can be. It's something I've tried to do as an editor at Frontiers; I understand that these things are important parts of what is historically the gay identity (hell, I like my share of musicals), but I think it's vital to punch holes in that identity: To not just state who we are, but to ask what else we can be.
Bowie is a great example. He went from being an iconoclast who changed the world by shattering it, to a bland self-parody of all that. I look around parts of the gay community and I see people who are afraid to venture into new territory, to leave the safety of their own comfort zones. Identity is a tricky thing: it can be the glue which binds you and gives you resolve, but it can also be a trap, limiting your vision--and thusly, your reach.
No really, it was just like this. Okay, fine--truth is I stayed for an hour then went to the gym. Unfortunately, work events are not much fun for me. I love seeing all the people associated with the magazine, but people can't help but pitch me or ask why they weren't featured or, depending on how boozy the party has gotten, start grabbing me and rubbing their hands on my body. Now, I see the appeal, but a Japhy is for looking, not touching. I'm never really good with big crowds. My ADD kicks in and I wonder why I don't have a table with bottle service. I'm not this conceited, honest. Watch that video a few more times and you'll be talking like this, too.
Utopian crafts would be banned in favor of developing robot armies. Admittedly, minimal resources may require robot muscles to be made out of macrame yarn as opposed to woven carbon nanotubes. Robots would be trained in Utopian craft-making skills, freeing up cult-members time for more genuflection upon the Leader. They would also be trained to kill outsiders on sight.
Deprogramming process consists of 12 hour Electric Slide marathons followed by 2 hour lecture on how dance is in fact a gestural key to opening your mind to the Syncretic Now. Members who ask what the 'Syncretic Now' is, flogged.
Would assign various aspects of personality to cult members ala Horcruxes. eg: "James, today you will be my love of butterscotch and Sandra will be my self-esteem issues brought on by an overattentive mother".
Jerry Blank not welcomed in cult.
Unlike other groups which try to slowly lull you into a sense of security by claiming they are self-help groups, religious organizations, etc.. would be up front. Recruiting procedure would consist of asking people: "Hey,do you want to be in a cult? Our Messianic leader will demand your total commitment and in exchange you get to freak out your parents and possibly be raided by the ATF. Also, we have these cool buttons, but you know, if you're a pussy, I understand."
Would rent cult out for bat mitvah's, New York Fashion Week.
Cult would have to enact episodes of Soap, Benson and the original Battlestar Galactica for my pleasure, nightly. Would yell at them, throw beer cans as if watching real TV.
Would have members drink small cups of Kool-Aid on a regular basis, just to you know- freak them out.
Not for any good reason. This is from Sweet Charity and was the inspiration for Beyonce's 'Get Me Bodied' video. Though the editing is far more varied in Beyonce's video, Fosse's dancers don't need a lot of cuts to make them interesting. Don't get me wrong: Beyonce's great and all, but as someone who is a big fan of quick-action-cutting, it's interesting to see the difference between composing in the frame vs. composing with the frame. Fosse's really good at creating multiple planes of people and groups, so your eye never stays one place on the frame, which in itself is cool, observational and detached and fits the scene.
The pilot I'm writing is about trust-fund kids. It's not The O.C. or Cruel Intentions, but much more Neil LaBute, Jay McInerny (vs. Brett Easton Ellis, btw) and at the risk of sounding like a total prick--The Sopranos, at least in the sense that it' s about severely screwed up people making stabs at conscious moral choices.
As a Jake Gyllenhall-lovin' Dreamgirls obsessed gay man, this is better than a green tea sorbet with balsamic reduction and kiwi infused vodka shooter. I was going to say "better than a hot fudge sundae", but then I remembered that gay men don't eat carbs. Apparantley, some gays thought the monologue was homophobic. How? Or do you just not have a sense of humor?
Sometime the world conspires in your favor. For instance, while many of us have dreamed of one day running into Anderson Cooper dressed in leather and brandishing a whip, who among us thought the Coop would oblige us- and on ABC News, of all places.
Thank you universe. You're not as crappy as Holden Caulfield said you were, after all.
