Chicago Post-Mortem: Did You Know That I Hate Showtune Nights?

(This could possibly be a two-part post-mortem as I'm returning to Chicago next week after staying in Milwaukee for awhile.)

With all due respect to San Francisco, I would hazard to say that Chicago now holds the title of Gayest City in the US--at least for 2006.

Not but two weeks after the Gay Games completed, Chicago's Boystown held Market Days which seemed to me as being a rather spread out version of the Street Fair that takes over the West Village during Pride.

Combined with Lollapalooza being in town, no wonder it was impossible to find a hotel room.

Travelogue over, let's get to the sordid stuff.

The night after Market Days, I found myself in a bar socialising with two men: one originally from La Crosse and the other a married (to a woman) man from Toronto. Since I'm on vacation, I figured this would be my one chance to put my beliefs to work and slowly chip away at his have-his-cake and eat-it-too attitude*, since this wasn't a case of having a relaxed straight man visiting the gay bars with his friend--in fact, he had only met Mr. Ex-LaX earlier that evening.

* Since you catch more flies with honey, the plan was to get him to breakdown by the end of the night. I know, I'm evil.

Let me say this, it is hard to employ militant gay strategy when you have been drinking since 3 PM.

Ex-LaX, Cake-Eater, and I eventually got into a cab to head up to Sidetracks, which apparently (according to Ex-LaX) was the pretty people's bar. I would call it a S & M bar, as in "stand and model." Unfortunately, it was showtune night. I hate showtune nights. I hate them with a passion. Yet, I was focused on my strategy, albeit rather slowly.

Ex-LaX took off, leaving Cake-Eater & I to our own devices. (FYI: I wasn't even remotely thinking of going there for personal reasons.) Cake-Eater was like a kid in a candy store. This boggled my mind: This man lives in Toronto and is amazed by a gay bar in Chicago? I mean, Queer as Folk was filmed in Toronto, it can't be that radically different, and Toronto isn't a small town where everybody knows you.

From this point onwards, it was a carousel of threesomes. First, we got latched on by a very drunk French Canadian who made sure that everybody within earshot knew that his rear end was well-used. After he departed, then another drunk guy--this time from Miami--joined in. He mostly was babbling, but the majority of his observations seemed to revolve around hotness, dick size, and my ethnicity.

Oh yes, ethnic fetisation is the perfect way to get someone to sleep with you.

Apparently Cake-Eater was of the similar mindset as the drunk Miamian, since he sunk his teeth and tongue into a 21 year old Latin guy who launched into a tourist board spiel for Chicago.

And then Madonna's "Don't cry for me, Argentina" came on and the 21 year old flew into a frenzy and dragged us into another area of the bar. Here, our threesome became a foursome as a man from Gary, Indiana latched onto me and started talking rapidfire about all sorts of things ranging from an apparent tradition of throwing napkins in the air during the climax of "Don't cry for me, Argentina" to his mother informing the family of their father's death on Christmas with a straight face,' and did you know that "[he] was a lover, not a fighter, like all Aquarians." (Not this Aquarian.)

By this point, my heart was running a mile a minute and I was feeling nauseous, so I decided that health had to come before agitprop theatrics. The 21 year old was busy trying to get into Cake-Eater's pants by a series of pouts and slight whining.

It was time to make my move.

I had it all planned out: I was going to lean in, brush Cake-Eater's stomach, say "your wife hired me," and leave then and there.

That was the plan.

In reality, what happened is that I burped and said "ugh, I got to go."

At least, my heart was in the right place.

Welcome to the Midwest.

Before I Walk Off Into The Sunrise

It's five in the morning as I write this, so I couldn't very well write "sunset."

I'm off to the Midwest (alright, Chicago & Milwaukee) for the next week, to (mostly) sit down and knock out some writing; however, I stumbled across this article in The Daily News and found it both surprising and not-so-surprising.

I think the same would apply to a lot of black boys as well.

If this film gets wide distribution, I think we all should see it regardless of gender or ethnicity.

I'll Judge The Book By Its Cover, Thank You Very Much

I'll admit it, I write all of this with a heavy dose of bitterness. It is the bitterness that every writer or behind-the-scenes creative feels when you hear or see someone's trashy, sub-par, half-baked work get some traction while yours doesn't.

A good person uses this as an impetus to try harder.

I am not a good person on a Friday morning. I am in the mood to read some fools, and I'm not talking about in a newspaper.

(A disclaimer: I am willing to revise my opinions, but when you do write ups, you have to realise that you're putting the baggage out in front of the marquee.)

Like most things that piss me off, the source of my anger stems from The New York Blade. This time, it's their article on The New York International Fringe Festival, and for once, it's not The Blade's fault that I'm angry.

In the article The Blade gives a few blurbs about this year's gay and lesbian themed shows. Well, I have to say is that most of these shows look smellier than day-old excrement.

• Romancing The Terrorist: Tajiki Nights - The American president falls in love with a gay Tajik terrorist. I understand satire. I understand absurdism, but this just seems daft as hell. By the way, unless it's a musical, anything that has two authors attached to it is to be avoided like syphilis.
• Don't Ask - An affair between two army men set during the Iraqi War. This actually looks interesting if the execution focuses on the characters as opposed to their situation. Since it's part of the "experimental" group (read: "we just slapped this together and called it art"), I don't hold my hopes up.
• The Saints of Festus - Missouri women get drunk and go wild. Three words that will strike fear into my heart: one. man. show. One man shows are like watching watching solo masturbation porn videos, but even dirtier since you're not allowed to clean yourself up after the writer and performer (even worse when they're the same person) has ejaculated their ego and "aren't I talented?" all over you.
• Blue Balls: In and OUT of Uniform with the NYPD - "Neighbourhood Sissy joins New York's Finest." The fact that this is billed as an "arresting new comedy" makes me think that this will have all the depth of a David Spade/Rob Schneider/Pauly Shore movie with a cameo by Carrot Top. I'm not saying that this couldn't be a comedy--in fact, I think it would be refreshing to see this subject treated with a light flourish instead of the expected "woe is me" sturm-und-drang drama. However, once I read that this is based on the playwright's own experience, the frist thing that came into my head was that this was going to be a revenge play. You know, the kind where you can just sense that the playwright is basically going to make himself out to be the unassailable hero devoid of flaws living in a world full of idiots.
• The Return of the Wayward Son - Bedroom stories from hustlers and their johns. Just read who the sponsor is. I actually like dark stories about prostitution, one of my most favourite plays that I've written is about a male prostitute and he's the protagonist (like a dark, cynical version of Irma La Douce). All that said, how much honesty and character depth could be attached to this piece given that one of the sponsors most likely doesn't quite want all the warts to be shown. By the way, you can write "phantasmagoria" all you want, it still has the air of slapdash writing job on it given the "experimental" classification (see above). Ironically, given the play's genesis, much of what I wrote above about Blue Balls (in respect to unassailable heroes) would apply here.
• Rainy Days & Mondays - Nice Jewish boy(tm) turns circuit queen during the nineties. Based on the website this show looks like style before substance ad infinitum. Kind of like the film Circuit, which--let's be honest here--was basically nothing but good-looking men romping about with an acrid script with good cinematography. Still, based on the playwright's pedigree, I'll grant him that this script is better than Shafer's. But...Jesus wept! The synopsis makes me want to retch! There is a black character who is described as "a sassy Southern African American 'baby boy let loose with a trust fund.'" For starters, "sassy?" Let us just ponder this for a second. How many more "sassy" black characters in gay film and theatre do we need before we actually start getting complex black characters? We don't need to be heroes, but for pete's sake, could we not be the "truth tellin', shut-yo'-mouth" bitchy queens for once? Then there's another character described as "an Adonis from the Midwest with no sexual boundaries." Like that archetype is completely new and fascinating. It's rather ironic that the synopsis claims that "this is not your typical salacious gay play with boys running around in their underwear," since I'd be shocked if it isn't given that summary.

Where's The Picture?

Three stations in New York happily tout that they have HD cameras installed on their helicopters.

And yet, we rarely ever see them.

It's no secret that I watch a lot of Fox 5*, which is home to "Skyfox HD." Whenever they cut to their helicopter, the anchors are always keen to mention "Skyfox HD," as if the moniker has been there from the get go.

* I need local news in the morning delivered by people who aren't obsessively perky and neutered. Plus, how else can I poke fun of Mike Woods on a daily basis?

Well, it has been months since I've seen any HD pictures off Skyfox HD.

Now, I'll be honest here, this is a rather tedious point to nitpick, but I find it rather interesting that a station that is now home to Arnold Diaz and his "Shame on You" reports, should probably have that wagging finger turned on itself.

Either stop flogging the sodding thing or turn the damn camera on.

Protect Marriage. Ban Divorce.

The 590th Post Manifesto

I had an epiphany this weekend.

While many gay rights activists seem to say that we are focusing too much on marriage to the detriment of other areas, I tend to believe that we're not. I believe that marriage rights are only part of a goal that we need to implement in order to get full equal rights in this country.

(That's not the epiphany.)

I'm not in any way shape or form the first person to say this, but I want to put this out here on this little piece of the internet in the hopes that someone will read this and perhaps do this.

Today/tomorrow/this week/this coming month, write the following at the end of an email or a post you make on either a blog or a message board:

"Protect Marriage. Ban Divorce."

While on the surface that is a very marriage-rights thing to say, I offer it as a way of protesting against the absurd world we've been living in for the past 6 years.

- The NSA can follow your every movement without your knowledge or even with good reasoning.

- FEMA plays favourites with who they choose to save.

- The electoral process has been hijacked by cronies.

- A budget surplus has turned into a deficit.

- A tidal wave of goodwill has turned to animosity.

And many other nonsensical occurances that have come to fruition.

If you believe that we are living in times that make no sense, then I suggest that you write this at least once in a public way--especially as a non-sequitur--to show the world where you stand.

You don't have to explain it, just let it sink in.

Protect Marriage. Ban Divorce.

Friday Jukebox Has Something For The Weekend

Indeed, this is late, but it is still Harlem Week so enjoy.




By the way, is anyone else hearing "stick your dick right out and shout...?"

These Search Engines Are Interesting Things

Given the sad news today in respect to the Washington State Court's same sex marriage ruling, the mind started thinking towards the referendum in Wisconsin.

I tend to believe that if someone proclaims that they want to protect marriage, then they should ban divorce, plain and simple.

In fact, let's go all the way and start arranging mandatory heterosexual marriages for all children from the second they are born. They can take a personality test and find their ideal partner for life. (I can find that ideal woman out there who won't complain one bit when I refuse to have sex with her, instead preferring clandestine nude all-male trysts in my car.)

And since marriage is an institution made purely for reproductive purposes, I suggest that we now make it illegal for any sterile people to marry. (IVF for those of us who aren't naturally inclined that way.)

And now back to reality.

Now, the architect behind the referendum, Mark Gundrum, is a lawyer. Turns out that he's a lawyer in a firm that handles divorce cases.

It makes me wonder what his real motivations are behind pushing this.

Perhaps Gundrum is afraid that since gay & lesbian couples tend to stay together longer that he'll see a downturn in divorce cases and income.

Or perhaps he's afraid that he may get overworked since there wouldn't be a need for sham hetero marriages in Wisconsin (not that it's a threat at the moment since the law already defines marriage as solely heterosexual right).

But Marky, you really aren't fighting for your best interests. You should be fighting for it.

You're already spearheading the fight to make marriage cheaper, so why not expand it?

So clearly your interest here is money not morals. Correct me if I'm wrong here, Marky, but if you want marriage to be cheaper so that more people will get married, then shouldn't you want everybody to get married?

And if you believe so strongly in the institution of marriage, then how come you have basically made your living out of participating in its destruction?

I find it rather interesting, Marky, that your infamous quote "This is the time in particular when people need to re-enforce the institution of marriage, not reinvent it," is coming from a man who is actively trying to reinvent marriage.

I find it rather interesting that you refuse to even give out your positions on pressing issues facing the country to Vote Smart. Does your ability to be elected and stay in office rely upon people being ignorant of what you stand for? And if so, then why are you flying the homophobic flag so--dare I say it--proudly this time?

Marky, I think it's time you start realising that the 1950's are over and will not return. I think you need to start realising that just as integrated schools and interracial marriage did not cause the US to descend into anarchy, that maybe, just maybe, it won't mean that your marriage will suddenly be worthless.

Then again, if you feel that your marriage will disappear with same sex marriage legalised (and I hasten to point out again that it is not legal in Wisconsin), that probably means it was built on a shakier foundation than you'd like the rest of us to know about and that the lesbian couple who has been together for decades might be a bit more savvy in how to keep a relationship going than you do.

All in all, this just makes you look like a bully on the playground who got pissed since now he's the one with the wedgie.

Monday Jukebox Says The 80s Were Good To Me

It is a true shame that I was quite an oblivious child in early 1980's.

Example #1:

The Gap Band and Charlie Wilson's swagger--which to be honest he has every right to do (if you catch my drift)




(And let's not even get started on the video for "Party Train")

Example #2

The Opening animation for Daicon IV featuring ELO's "Twilght"




My first exposure to this piece of anime history was at AnimeCon '91, when I was 12. (I survived one more anime convention after that, then decided to keep my otaku-ness mostly to myself, for the sake of preserving sanity.) This short pretty much encapsulates everything that I love about film, television, theatre, and animation: whimsy. It's a shame that whimsy is now chained up in the attic being served table scraps every fortnight.

Example #3:

Philip Michael Thomas: R&B Singer




I just discovered this video and song. Let me tell you, I have no clue that PMT--hahaha--was hot as hell in his prime. The whole Miami Vice craze basically was lost to me, given that I was in elementary school at the time and my parents would've sooner checked themselves into an asylum than let me watch it. Yet watching this, I'm completely baffled as to how Don Johnson got the most press as that show's sex symbol.

Another thing: who knew PMT could sing like that?! He's no Charlie Wilson, but damn he comes close (and beats Don Johnson's acrid pop song by a country mile).

Only on this piece of the internet could you get The Gap Band, a bunny girl sci-fi fantasia, and Philip Michael Thomas all in one post.

Go Away Grace!

Was Eurovision 2006 the beginning of the huge media blitz of Maria Menounos (forever known to me as Grace after her horrid turn as presenter)?

It certainly seems so.

Yesterday, Grace was on MTV, since she was appearing in Jessica Simpson's new video (*cough* Madonna knockoff *cough*) for "Public Affair."

Then she was on some haircare advert.

Now Grace is co-hosting this morning on Today. The funny thing is that she still looks and sounds completely incompetent. Right now she's talking with a psychiatrist and somebody from US Magazine--oh, the combos you get on Today--and all I keep on hearing is her astute observation of "I think that's monster talk."

Splash-Stonewall-The View Post Mortem: Halloween in July

Apologies for the high interval between posts, but heat seriously does me in and sometimes it takes a high amount of energy to just be an automaton.

The night started off at Splash, where again the Cypriot was working downstairs and taking his sweet time in getting anything else beyond the first drink. There's a bartender upstairs who I'm quite keen on (and vice versa, believe me, because you've got to be blatant for me to pick it up), but ever since Splash has decided to have karaoke up there, there's no chance in hell of me getting my drink on with him.

That said, I have to admit the video selection was decidedly retro. It started off with a Carpenters tribute, followed up with Bette Midler (and Katie Couric!?) singing "Hey Big Spender," then Martha & The Vandellas doing "Heatwave," and when I left The Supremes were singing "Stop! In the name of love." Judging from that group, you wouldn't think that it was Black & Latin night just a few hours later.

Not that I would be a participant in it tonight, since I had to be down in The Village later on (after a quick Amaretto Sour down at The Stonewall, a quick drink because I had to go meet someone and because the weirdness of seeing peroxide blonde Valley Girls drinking next to me while Method Man played in the background, was just too much).

I eventually wound up--completely drenched--at The View.

Full Moons are known to bring out weird people. The same can be said of rain. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something definitely askew. I was no exception.

As you may or may not know, I'm a "former" anorexic and struggle often with body image issues. I mention this because I was wearing an article of clothing that I rarely wear outside the confines of my apartment: a loose tank top.

I really don't like showing skin in public. It goes back to the days when I was overweight and felt like The Hunchback of Notre Dame on a daily basis. I remember how I used to feel watching other guys doff off their shirts as if it was nothing and feeling a mix of jealousy and lust. Two thoughts would enter my head: 1) "Why can't I be so free and uninhibited?" 2) "Why do they think they're so hot?"

So tonight I challenged myself and to be honest, it was far from easy. I felt like I was wearing a Halloween costume on October 30th. My instinct was to run back to the apartment and immediately cover up before going out again. Yet, I still wanted to at least for one night chase away the demons that haunted me.

I came up with a modified mantra that most people use when encountering bears: "Don't be afraid, because there is no spotlight on you," a take on the popular "they're more scared of you, than you are of them."

And it's true.

It took a sudden downpour for me to realise something that most people pick up in elementary school.

The question is, can I remember it?

Greetings from GOP New York

I just finished Simon Winchester's Outposts, and found the chapter on Bermuda struck several parallels with modern day New York since Giuliani, feel free to weigh in:

"Bermuda then gave me the feeling that it was a sort of Disneyland, and that the shootings [of the Governor and ADC] were the local equivalent of a tourist having a heart-attack inside the plastic Matterhorn -- smiling young men with shrouds would clear everything up within seconds and hustle the cadaver away through a back door, and then the whirligigs would start up again and the crowds would re-form, like waters briefly parted, and the music would start, and the smiling young men would resume their cries of 'Have a nice day!' and all would seem well once more."

Tuesday Jukebox Says Stop Haunting Me

I like to think that I am not easily swayed by commercial jingles, but to this very day, I find NBC's mid-eighties slogan still running rampant in my head.




The fact that NBC is now doing horribly in the ratings is at least some solace.

In happier hauntings, I could swear that I remember Norway's 1979 entry from my childhood. (Even though I was still a few months old at the time.) Maybe it's just that Anita Skorgan looks uncannily like Karen Carpenter.

Just Because You're Pissed Off About Your Divorce...

...don't take it out on the rest of us, a great many who can't even marry.

If there's anything more indicative of the selfish individualism that has taken grasp of the US in the first decade of the 21st Century, I think this is it.

By the way, I think the local news stations went a little too far in their 3 hour plus nonstop coverage. After it was known that this wasn't a terrorist attack and that a bomb wasn't involved, there was no need to go on and on about it.

Then again, this did happen on the Upper East $ide, and by now, we all know that whenever the wealthy are threatened then it's a catastrophe and the sign of end times.

In Memoriam: Frank Zeidler

How much times have changed, when politicians are now subject to the same rules as movie stars.

The Day of Interdependence

What is the state of our 230 year old Union on this July 4th?

Still strong?

Still defiant?

Still together?

I think it's at one of its most precarious states, personally.

As is a common theme on the piece of the internet, I truly think that there is so very little that links us together beyond just mere geographic location.

Blue states vs. Red States, Liberals vs. Conservatives vs. Libertarians, and so on and so forth.

It's funny (in a tragicomic way) that in this day and age when you practically have the same stores and utilities in whatever part of the country you're in, that our bonds are increasingly nonexistent.

I wonder what links me to another 27 year old male in, say, Tennessee. We are both citizens of the same country, pay roughly the same taxes, and have the same protections on the federal level.

But do we share the same cultural values?

I don't know. I feel more and more divorced from other Americans, and the sense I've gotten from my friends and comrades is that this isolation is shared.

I'd like to say that our current administration with its mantra of "you're with us or against us" is to blame, but I think it's just a symptom of this new isolation.

Where the crux of it lies is that we have forgotten (and have been forgetting since at least the 1960's, if not earlier) that this is a nation unified by shared ideals and culture. Ideals and culture that are forever evolving, but remaining steadfast to the core belief that all people are created equal and deserving of equal treatment.

So why is it that right now everything must be broken down to black or white terms? Why are we dehumanising each other now when most likely we need each other the most? Why do we refuse point blank to listen?

Because it gets in the way of downloading the latest hits on our iPod-friendly cellphone.

Day of Independence

(Tomorrow is more of a sign of our interdependence rather than independence.)

Last night, the Ex came to visit. Drenched, and with a grin on his face, he gave me a broken clock. It was extremely appropriate in the metaphorical sense.

We were together for a little over 3 years and during that time as is the case in many relationships, there were good and bad times and in our case, a great deal of miscommunication.

I was the one that pulled the plug and as I said at the time, and still hold true to this very day, it would be my mistake if it was the wrong decision.

I do not regret it one bit.

Y'see, in this media-saturated world that we live in, we are told that we are nothing on a daily basis:

• You are nothing if you don't have a significant other.
• You are nothing if you don't look a certain way.
• You are nothing if you don't speak a certain way.
• You are nothing if you don't act a certain way.
• You are nothing if you don't like certain things.

These edicts constrict and contract us to people, situations, and actions that run contrary to who we are. Why? Because they are the beliefs of insecure people who feel the need to claim so-called "power" over others.

And more often than not, we give that power to them, because we're afraid that the person next to us will inflict mob revenge on us if we don't.

Actually breaking up with the Ex was not half as terrifying as the lead up to it. (And yes, I'm cognizant that this is rather trivial compared to being a refugee from Herr Mugabe or Lukashenko.) The lead up was an analytical orgy the likes I had never experienced before. Yet, somehow, I found the shred of determination within to actually go ahead and do it.

And the strangest thing happened afterwards.

I started to feel good about myself, my own Portrait of Dorian Grey disappeared, and was replaced by just myself--unadulterated.

This may not read as radical to most, but for me, this was a 180 degree turn. It's also one that I know I will do my damndest not to reverse.

As The Blade Slides Further Into Irrelevance and Intolerance

This week's Blade features an article (read: puff piece) on Coors trying to mend its reputation with the gay community.

Now since reading The Blade is becoming more and more akin to reading Drudge or Fox News, I can't say that I'm totally surprised to see this indirect love letter to one of the biggest supporters of the Republicans, but one particular passage [in the interview with the Lesbian CEO of the ad agency working with Coors on this endeavour] stands out:

Blade: I certainly don’t mind looking at the guys in the ads. I noticed a predominance of Latino-looking guys. Is that intentional?

Meifert: We found through a lot of very informal polling that Coors Light is the No. 1 beer in a gay space and is huge with the Latino community. We also found out that white guys are really attracted to Latino men, and Latino men are attracted to Latino men. So we decided to go with a Latino flair.

So apparently black, asian, and multiracial men don't matter one iota?

Absolutely charming philosophy to live by.

Because in my mind it's only Tuesday

So it's basically been like The Lost Weekend for me since the end of Pride, except that I've not had that much alcohol. All I know is that I was awake for nearly 72 hours, before the body finally beat out the mind and allowed me to sleep and eat.

I don't know how this happened, but I won't ask for a reason why. Since when I was starting to wonder why I was still awake, Jesus Christ Superstar played on television and scared me silent. (Seriously, "Could We Start Again" is very chilling when you've gone without sleep. Let's not even talk about "Superstar.")

And I've been playing catch-up since then.

What a world to wake up to:

• Four former Wisconsin Governors agree: The Anti-Gay Amendment is basically enshiring bigotry.
• Barbara Walters vs. Star Jones Reynolds, and frankly I'm with Barbara.
• I don't remember all this rain falling!?
• And Mitt Romney is an idiot (part 909).

The View Post-Mortem: Time Does Go By So Slowly

Admittingly, I do not know how to make an entrance, nor do I possess the ability to know when the right time is to even go to a place.

If I did, then I would've had more than just a Corona tonight.

I also would've been able to have avoided or even let slide a large group of twinks singing along to Madonna videos RIGHT IN MY EAR.

Don't get me wrong, I love Madonna, especially from Erotica onwards, and if I had the income, I would've attended her concert at Madison Square Garden tomorrow night, but, jiminy cricket, a person can only take so much.

Now, if they were singing along to Swing Out Sister, then this would totally be my sort of crowd.

After wading through a sea of tight low-cut shirts and sucked-in stomachs, waiting 5 minutes for a beer, and realising that the seat next to the twink posse was the only locale possible. I at least knew that this was my time to leave. (Hey, I had a good Friday night out and another waiting on Sunday, you can't win 'em all.)

In other news, the Hikaruland Pride 2006 Theme Song Committee has chosen Ivana Banfic's "Daj Povedi Me" has for this year's theme song--even though it's from 1991. Just watch the performance and you'll see why.

WORK IT!!!

Why Canadian Politics Are More Fun Than Ours

Let's be honest here, what is the nature of your thoughts when you say 'fuddle duddle'?

Pride Week 2006: A Deeper Love

Once again, it is the time of the year when a significant portion of the LGBT community and our allies come out in force to show that we are defiantly happy of who we are, what we have achieved, and what still lies ahead.

Yet, this is also time when many people come out to say "I'm not like those people."

Despite being subjected to the same legal restrictions, societal prejudice, and the same hatred, still there remain groups who are very quick to point out that they are not like "them."

Who is the mythological "they" which threatens others' sense of security so much that they are quick to disavow any connection?

To some, "they" are effeminate men.

Many times we overhear some gay men saying (with all the venom of a rattlesnake) "if I wanted a woman, then I'd be straight" when an effeminate guy walks past.

But you're not looking at a woman, you're looking a man. A man whose mere existence threatens your insecurity in your own masculinity that you immediately seek to denigrate him for expressing himself in the way that he feels accustomed to. I would hazard a guess that the insecurity these men express has more to do with their own suppressed desires to be themselves.

This self-loathing is quite apparent in the "current" wave of porn that is sold based on the fact that the participants are ostensibly straight men having sex with each other.* While statistically, there must be some heterosexuals who participate in having gay sex on film for money, I would hasten to point out that the money is not that much of an incentive for one to go against one's true orientation. It provides a convenient excuse for those not willing to deal with their true selves, but the pay is negligible at best, and in order to reach the higher echelon (in respect to porn wages), one must truly enjoy homosexual sex.

* Fortunately, there are a great many men who realise that this is a marketing technique with no basis in reality.

There also those who believe that "they" are leather men or others whose sexual practices run contrary to their own.

To be blunt, you just need to give that up. There are politicians and others out there who are so terrified--yes, terrified, because their actions suggest that they feel threatened--of our existence that even hand-holding in public is tantamount to calling for our extermination.

To others, "they" are those who aren't a certain definition of what is physically attractive.

What all this talk of "they" boils down to is insecurity. Let's be honest here, we are beat down every day. All of us: gay and straight, male and female, all races, all people, all nationalities. No one likes it, but it's true. It takes a great deal of energy to wake up in the morning and say that we are ready to greet the world at large. I do mean "greet" instead of "face." "Face" suggests that we are preparing to go into combat with others and that we're already in an adversarial mindset. How rare is it for us to actually "greet the world?" Instead of propping ourselves up with how we are different from others and how others have ruined the world, why not just think "I am" and "you are." Just those two phrases without any qualifiers or descriptions after them.

It is extremely surprising that this is a radical concept and something that we are still dealing with, lo these many years after Stonewall, but honestly, why can't we just take this venom that we set upon each other and use it for change that benefits all of us, instead of ourselves and our clones?

Then maybe, we'd actually find out what it means to be happy and loved.

Thursday Jukebox Likes The Occasional Ballad

...especially when they talk about loss.

Whether delivered by a Swedish operatic tenor



Or by a waitress and a bunch of women in lingerie.

Is This A Good Thing?

The new CBC lineup for Fall 2006. It's heavy on the reality (or "factual entertainment" as the department is styled).

My need to immigrate grows.

The Stonewall-View Post-Mortem: Seeing the world through new eyes

3 Tonic Waters, 1 beer, and 5 Twisted Teas.

My body must be changing, because I would think that amount wouldn't do me in, but for some reason it has.

The Stonewall seems to not be in that much of a music video mode--at least when I'm there--because the past 2 times I've been there, I've seen movies playing with music in the background. Granted this week, the bartender (who is younger than me) was playing a lot of rap as well as Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" in a loop, so my ears were soothed. (I'm referring to "Crazy," not the rap.)

Ultimately, I wound up talking with a guy who seemed to be addicted to editing others' work. I don't quite get the appeal, but he was all for it. More power to him.

The View however was in full-tilt music video mode, hence the overload on Twisted Teas.

One video played there was a remix the current LL Cool J song "Control Myself." Now, I have to wonder about Mr. Smith. He's pushing 40, isn't he? I don't know what his secret is, but I just have to wonder if he isn't dipping in the well of HGH. And considering that I've only heard the remix version of it, I also have to wonder if Jennifer Lopez's parts are all altered by the vocoder as well.

Also at The View, I wound up talking with the new bartender, who looked at the same time very familiar and yet new. It's rare for me to experience deja-vu, but I certainly did.

I guess I should get to the point of this entry's subtitle.

Well, let's just say that the right type of guy can change one's perspective, particularly if one is practically a Mt. Everest in the romance arena, like me.

I'm loaded, so vague riddles when it comes to the personal are easier to write.

The 2006 Goddamn Tonys Post-Mortem

In short, that was 3 hours of my life that CBS and the League need to return to me.

I should've known this wasn't going to be good when Harry Connick Jr. began the opening number by sounding drunk as a skunk and with a frog in his throat. I was probably blinded because I kept thinking "Hallelujah! No Jackman!"

Then The History Boys started winning.

And winning.

And winning.

You know, even though I was all for Democracy last year, this show well and truly bores me to tears. It's boring, boring, boring. Plus, I'm sorry, all the actors in New York and they couldn't get an American cast to premiere it? It's not like this was full of undiscovered breakout talent.

All my gnashing of teeth about History Boys aside, I have to say that it was the best out of a piss-poor selection this year. Perhaps we can call it the death of the original American play on Broadway, because honestly, the best we could find were 3 foreign plays and 1 so-so American. (And could we kill this Irish play obsession, please?)

Tragic and further proof that Broadway is slipping further into irrelevance.

Now let's get to the other "Boys:" Jersey Boys.

My god, that was one overhyped piece of tourist refuse.

For the past week or so, we have seen John Lloyd Young contort his face in extreme pain (read: constipation) as he "channels" Frankie Valli. That show has been featured on almost every single live daytime television show to the point that I could predict when the switches between the numbers came (since they always did the same damn 3 songs). And were they boring. Well-performed, but boring. (Oddly enough, something that applies to the selection chosen for performance from The Threepenny Opera.)

And those acceptance speeches!

I slightly bought Hoff (even though I wanted to slap him and say "buck up! we're not your therapist"), but Young's was given in such a way that it seemed like he wanted to upstage his castmate.

The award is for Best Actor not Best Mimicry, and I think Hoff and Young realised they weren't in the right categories, so they retrofitted themseleves into it during their acceptance speeches.

That's only reason I could figure out for the crying mess they became. Even the sodding producers seemed to be on the verge of tears!

You'd think they had come up with the 21st Century version of The Cradle Will Rock!

I hold out minor hope that I'll care next year, but the trend is definitely leaning against it.

And we take two steps back...

You know, right now in New York, there is a pending hate crimes trial that hinges on the fact that "nigga" isn't an offensive term, in fact that it is a sign of fraternity.

And now the BBC Board of Governors has ruled that "gay" as a negative is not an insult...depending on who says it.

Now, I'll give Auntie some minor credit for at least admitting that it could cause offense, but by the same token aren't they condoning usage of it as a pejorative by dismissing the complaint? I don't believe myself to be a tinhat, but it really is a slippery slope back towards socially sanctioned (if not legal) discrimination by allowing things like this to fly. The attitude the Beeb takes suggests that just because it is collaquially used in some manner by someone who does not (at least publicly) intend it to be homophobic.

Well, I say it still is homophobic.

See this is the thing. People get all up in arms about not wanting to be politically correct, when really all they want is an excuse to say bigoted thoughts without wanting to actually think about what they say. No adult of sound mind and any sort of inkling of etymologies would choose the word with baggage if they didn't mean it. (Seriously Chris, "naff," look it up in a dictionary.)

Weren't we all thought in elementary school to think before we speak? I reckon that respect for others--especially when one is in the media--is the cornerstone of most modern societies: you don't have to like me privately, but you can at least treat me as your equal.

The governors may have lightly defended their decision by saying that "gay" also means "carefree," but let's be honest here: that was not what Moyles meant and both he and the public-at-large knew it.

Because It's Unofficially Summer Now

A photo taken by the comrade, because I am notoriously evil to tourists in every city that I lived in. I think that The Bronx and Staten Island CVBs ought to thank me because I have sent many visitors to Morrisiana and Grant City in search of the Empire State Building and Carnegie Hall.

Since I figure that people in other cities are as devious as I am, I get a map and stick to it when I'm travelling.

I offer up this quote from a concierge that I met recently:

"I spend hours at my job giving directions, and you're not paying me."

If you can't figure out where West 34th street is and you're on West 33rd in a borough 80% laid out like a grid, then you deserve to be led astray.

Thursday Jukebox Says June Is Strutting Out All Over Too

A compliation of Seve, La Ryan, and Sibel's live performances from Athens.

Scoreboard aside, which diva outdid the rest? You decide.

Thursday Jukebox Says June Is Busting Out All Over

In 1993, Eva told men not to mess with her...



...but in 2003, Mando showed us why no one messed with her, without saying a word on the subject.

Whatever, Bloomie

America's most famous publicly closeted mayor is now saying he's for gay marriage...once it's deemed legal by New York State.

Listen, mister, if you don't have the guts and determination to go ahead and just do what is right at this very moment in time, then don't act all "man of the people" with this "strong legal footing" nonsense.

Issue the licenses and fight for it in Albany at the same time. (Ever hear of something called a two-pronged approach, idiot?)

Not to mention, you could've been saying this from January 1st, but you wait until Pride Month?

This man truly boggles my mind. Just what does he want politically? A congressional seat would be a step down, there's no way he'd be governor, and only in bizarro world could he even have more than a .2% at being president.

I'll be happy when this fool's term is over.

Holiday Jukebox Goes Danish

(Courtesy of Eurovision Denmark)

If I could get away to anywhere, I'd like to escape to Copenhagen. A Miyazaki-style Copenhagen with all the current laws from now, but where if you flip on the television, you'd see funky pleas for racial tolerance:



Singing office workers in leather trousers:




And hold hands together in chaste dancing while a woman belts the hell out of a pop song at the end of the night:

Farewell, QTN: We Hardly Knew Ye

Well, it's now official: QTN is dead.

Already, Time Warner has replaced them with a scheduled version of here!--the on-demand version has been offered for quite sometime, but the plucky little network seemed to soldier onto the end.

What really slew Auntie Q? It's hard to say (for those in New York, there is an interview with Jack E. Jett on the whole debacle in the-soon-to-be-last-week's edition of Next).

On one hand, it was defiantly different, or at least tried to be. I liked that about it. It was rough around the edges and in contrast to Logo, QTN took advantage of its subscriber status by airing films unedited (they even aired My Sexual Harassment) and featuring swearing during their casual and informative daily news breaks. It was more of my kind of network in contrast to the sleek and somewhat chaste LOGO and personality-free here!. (Don't get me wrong, I love both of them as well, it's just sometimes you want no pretension and a lot of character in your network.) When you watched QTN you were undeniably getting in-your-face raw personality (yes, even from Reichen), which is what I think breaks down barriers and is really sort of entertainment niche that is overlooked.

On the other hand, QTN tried way too hard to do much when it should've focused on building an audience. The Gay Games idea was admirable, but somebody should've been at the helm saying "this is not the time." If you have to lay off a great amount of staff, most of whom who are doing this out of wanting to see the network succeed, well you're just cutting off your nose to spite your face. Akin to Icarus, QTN wanted to establish itself so strongly and so formidable, that they lost the fact that they had the ingredients to do so from the get go.

Quite simply, the bosses were greedy and too willing to take advantage of the workers who were in it because they believed in it.

Another network will come along. The market does call for subscription service beyond what here! offers. Hopefully they'll get it right the next time around.

1. Don't try so hard in your Freshmen Year, or even your Senior Year: Fox was a joke until The Simpsons; HBO didn't hit its stride until Dream On (and even that's debatable); Showtime wasn't even making that much of an impact until Queer As Folk; and Comedy Central--itself the product of market consolidation--was no-man's land until The Daily Show.
2. Create a cult of personalities: Hiring Steve Kmetko was a brilliant stroke of genius. This is one area where QTN did get it right. They had personalities who were not santised in the slightest.
3. News, news, news: Even without The Closet airing, I watched QTN's news religiously. Their approach was more informative than LOGO's very cut-and-dry attitude created out of the CBS culture.
4. The Fish Rots From The Head: Don't go selling yourself on the market in your first year, and don't have executives who have no idea how to do anything but fail and kowtow.
5. Ditch the PSAs: It's subscription-based network. This means I don't want to see any breaks at all during a show, and only trailers for upcoming programmes in between.
6. Give Me A Show: I mean, you gave Reichen one. Sodding Reichen!

Thursday Jukebox Continues The Eurovision Theme (in Swedish)

First off, remember when Sweden sent cool and jazzy entries, like this one (which undeservingly scored poorly in 1963) ?:




Now, skip ahead to 1999 and the four either stoned or scared members of Crosstalk at Melodifestivalen.



ABBA-effect or not: You be the judge.

And as this is the 560th post on this piece of the internet, I'll end with one of my favourite Eurovision entries of all time:

It's Not Eurovision Week: Um homem sábio aprende de seus erros

(Or in non-Babelfish English: "A Wise Man Learns From His Mistakes")




You too, Spain

And now a special message...

An unbelivably cute and wry PSA

Eurovision 2006 Final: Shut Up, Grace

The TVE Pre-Show

First off, thank you TVE for airing the Final relatively live (3 PM EDT, with a repeat later at the evening—before 10!); I don’t really blame you for shuffling the Qualifier off into the dead of night, considering that it wouldn’t be of that much interest to Spaniards Overseas.

Now that I just said something nice, I have to say one thing about your pre-show. While I am more than happy to see the return of Don Carlos and his pansexual self, you run the risk of causing people to go on killing sprees by playing that damn “Aserje” song over and over and over and over and over again. Yes, we get it, the song was a flipping huge hit! It’s also their only worldwide hit, so it just makes the Ketchup Girls look more pathetic.

Do you not like listening to me, TVE? I told you last year that either you should get some of the vastly more intriguing (and talented) famous singers that performed during your national final/acid trip or go for a comedy act like Las Supremas. Las Ketchup is neither.

Now, TVE, I want to tell you that I really want Spain to win. I want to Spain to win more than any other country. You’re my pseudo-homeland in Euro-land these days. The only problem is that you can’t keep on sending horrific assaults on the ear combined with bizarre choreography. It also would behove you to consider picking representatives that don’t flounce about like bimbos (and yes, I’m including Ramon in this group) . Poor Beatriz—who for some reason just gave up commenting on Thursday night after Finland (not like I blame her, since the Qualifier was just dire after Lordi)—again looks like she’d rather be offering her opinion without four loud Andalucians screaming inane thoughts right next to her.

Random thought I had while watching the Pre-Show: Luis Miguel, Marta Sanchez, and Ivy Queen. I’m just saying that if you’re in the business of doing internal selections these days, aim high. Luis Miguel would be game, I reckon (hell, he did Sanremo). Ditto Marta (she did appear in the national final last year), and you shouldn’t let the Macedonians be the sole purveyors of Reggaeton in Eurovision. Get those three in the studio, and you certainly would have something unique and accessible. Plus, just you watch and see how soon the Portuguese will grab someone from Brasil, there already was a Luso-Australian in the Portuguese national final.

The Main Event

Credits roll on and to this moment, I still don’t get why they are encouraging us to “feel the rhythm.” I haven’t yet. A woman named Foetini something or other starts singing dramatically. Fortunately Beatriz starts talking and I’m spared her caterwauling. Granted, it’s pretty caterwauling, but it is overwrought. A sun holding several men dressed as Hermes or Icarus (I’m guessing the latter) comes on and if I was not certain that this is Greece, I would think that Montreal was hosting this year and Cirque de Soleil was doing the opener. Foetini sings to Apollo while a whole bunch of dancers turn around and turn and turn. Foetini comes centrestage and finishes. Meanwhile, Maz & Saz fly in…literally. Oy.

Maz has decided to go all Debra Messing with her hair and it’s an improvement to say the least. Maz isn’t screaming, and for that I am happy. Maz really looks like Debra Messing, I cannot stress that enough. She is starting sound like her too. Before I can dwell on this long enough, Helena Paprizou comes on and sings the song that brought us all to Greece in the first place. She, like most other winners, looks a lot better as the reigning winning performer. Her stage show is better, but then again, she’s given several more male dancers and acrobats. Take that six-maximum-onstage rule! Oddly enough, the song seems shorter than I remember.

Alas, Helena finishing means that Maz & Saz are back. Maz--who I am now calling Grace for the rest of this recap—goes all Valley Girl (odd, since she's from Massachusetts) and they open the contest.

Switzerland: Pools for the Swiss/International entry. IUPP start out spread out all over the stage and they are still smiling! Do they not realise what they are singing about? I mean, it’s about charity and how the world is in pain, and they are smiling. I get the sense that they all really wish they were singing this individually. It’s mawkish, arguably insincere, and oddly enough, Andreas and Tinka are the most demure of the group.

Moldova: Beaches, ports, and shopping for Arse & Co. Oh good lord, there’s a sail that says “loca” up front. Jesus, is this Disney World or Eurovision? Arse looks constipated and bewildered. Perhaps he’s trying to convey the meaning of “loca,” but it comes across as daft. Natalia by contrast is self-assured, then again she’s not really going to take the hit for this is she? (Costume changes and all, she works harder than anybody else.) The rapper is just as confident. In fact, everybody else onstage is pretty confident except for Arse, who is barely audible anyway. Oh well. Sucks to be you, Arse.

Israel: Boats for Israel. Eddie starts out on top of a piano, outstretched like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys. Eddie mumbles the verses, while his backing singers sing—mostly—in key and loudly. Another bone to pick here: Eddie is nasal as hell, and it is impossible to tell when he is switching from Hebrew to English. The song is somewhat saved when they get all gospel towards the end, but again, the backing singers totally out perform Eddie. This seems to be a running theme this year.

Latvia: Sports and kiosks for Latvia. (I’m guessing there’s a connection.) This is basically IUPP, except they’re all male, Latvian, and singing acapella. It’s very cute, but then they have to go for extra cute points by playing around with a robot. (It’s times like this that I wish I could hear what Wogan has to say about it.) The robot isn’t cute; it doesn’t add to anything; it just annoys. Blah.

Norway: Antiquity for Norway. That’s rather appropriate for a folk ballad. I’m hoping that Christine will save us from the 4 horrors that preceded, but who knows. Christine and her backing performers are all in white and it’s very sleek for a folk song about elves dancing. It is also blissfully devoid of gimmicks, beyond the fact that they are in diamond formation with a wind machine. You go, Miss Norway.

Spain: Plazas and banquet halls for Spain. (I’m not saying a word.) The Ketchup are all in swivel seats while two dancers fling themselves about as if they are in a completely different entry. The Ketchup eventually get themselves out of the chairs for a brief moment, but then again they are back into the chairs. I feel for the dancers. They are working themselves silly for these girls who never quite find something approximately close to the tune. That said, it’s not the horror that was last year’s entry. Some year, Spain, some year we will get the win. Just not this year.

Malta: Beaches and resort life for Malta. Fabbo looks dead butch from afar and then we get a close-up. I was worried for a second there, Fabbo. If any song needs to be camped up, this is it. Fabbo’s all female dancers/singers work themselves silly, but this year, it seems that arrangement only works for female singers with all male dancers. Oh lord, did I just see the dancers do the running man? There’s a male background singer (Alex Panayi?) who really just does nothing. Oh well. I don’t think it’s your year, Fabbo.

Germany: Antiquity for Germany too, and it is appropriate for a retro-Country song. Ok, the first impression I get here is of a County Fair performance circa 1955. It’s very cute, highly kitschy, and I can somewhat see the appeal. Quite honestly, the fact that most of the entries before it threw everything but the kitchen sink at us, works in their favour. Now that I’ve been all complimentary and I have to still say that it looks like a bunch of Germans (and 1 Australian who is not Keith Urban) singing Country.

Denmark: Remember how I compared “Twist of Love” to “Hallo Hallo?” Well, it’s really apparent now that “Hallo Hallo” and its campiness are superior. Sidsel and her girls do perform the living daylights out of it, but then they bring out a break dancer in the role of “Johnny.” I still find it odd that there is barely any twisting onstage whatsoever. The whole thing leaves me indifferent to be honest.

Russia: Ooh, fashion for Russia. The Mullet Twink still has his mullet, but his tank top now has “10” on it instead of “13.” He’s also grown a bit of a goatee, because he wants to be taken seriously…I’m guessing. His legs still look like they are made of rubber, but it does seem like he has toned things down from the Qualifier. There is still nobody at the piano when he summons the albino ballerina. One thing that I can’t quite figure out, why does he ignore her? I mean, she’s coming out of a piano! Beatriz is also as amusingly perplexed as I am. I like you, Beatriz.

Macedonia: Elenina Sky still looks like a hoochie, but at least she’s smiling, so we know she’s not going to cut one of those dancers. If you listen to the lyrics closely, you could totally see Jennifer Lopez singing this song. The fact that Elenina Sky is made up like her doesn’t help dissuade this thought at all. Still no winner, but more polished than the Qualifier.

Romania: Nightclubs for Romania, which make sense with a dance song. Mihai is dressed like a club promoter, which also makes sense. He takes the popular route this year of staying relatively still while the dancers fling themselves all over. There seems to be a theme with the choreography, with one of the female dancers getting pissed every time that another dancer pays attention to Mihai. Despite this description, the performance doesn’t really “grab” you. Eh, good try, Mihai.

Since I’m watching this on TVE, we have a commercial break. I suspect that TVE and TVE Internacional viewers are not missing anything of importance. Most likely, all we’d see is Saz & Grace making fools of themselves. Oops, I spoke too soon. Saz & Grace (hell, I’m just going to call him Will—how you doin’?) come back on to tell us that we have 2 hours left. Well, thank you for telling us the obvious.

Bosnia & Herzegovina: Market life for BiH. The dramatic stage picture is still as intense as it was on Thursday. HMH is smiling now, which I think is good, though I don’t know Bosnian. The reports have been saying that this song will lose its impact by coming on after the commercial break, which I will say is a shame, because it is quite stirring. HMH does sound like he is going at full tilt. Very impressive, I must say. They deserve to do well.

Lithuania: Paper boats for Lithuania, which makes a perhaps unintentional on the comment on the song that will follow. There is an audible chorus of boos before they sing. Unlike with Sylvia Night, I understand the booing here. The Reservoir Dogs come across as more subdued than they did on Thursday. Doesn’t matter, the performance still looks like something better suited for Late Night with Conan O’Brien. I don’t blame the performers, since they give their all, I blame the songwriters.

United Kingdom: Ski resorts for the UK? The girls sound quite good live. So does Daz. If the televoters share the audience’s displeasure with The Reservoir Dogs, Daz will reap the benefits and he really should. I have to say that this is the first British entry in some time that really screams “British,” and I mean that as a major compliment. The audience cheers semi-wildly.

Greece: Food, music, sea, and drink for Greece. Ouch, poor Daz, I feel for him having to come on before La Vissi. La Vissi is all alone onstage, and dressed like 1989 meets 2006. She does make me like the song more than I did previously, but it’s not an arresting performance. In fact, I keep expecting her to take it to the next level. She does get close to it during the last third of the song where she goes full-on “I’m torn up and going crazy.” Very good showing, La Vissi.

Finland: Art for Finland. Ouch for La Vissi, having to come on before Lordi. I have to say there’s a real angel preceding devils metaphor being written up onstage now. Unlike on Thursday, Lordi is really getting my attention, then again Croatia and Turkey have yet to perform. Nonetheless, when Mr. Lordi sings “my eyes are red,” there is a close up on his red eyes and it is very effective. The song does seem to end a little bit too early, which is a good sign.

Ukraine: Kiosks for Ukraine. Karola is pouring on the cuteness, which is a choice I would do if I was following Lordi. Karola is coming across like a minature version of La Vissi, who I could easily singing this song and doing a damn good job of it. The jump rope is still there and it is a little bit over-the-top I have to say. Karola really works the held note towards the end, good for her. I think she’ll do well.

France: Fashion and the high life for France. Poor Virginie has not been getting good reports from those who have been viewing the rehearsals. She is dressed in white with a cellist. It is very simple and quite a contrast to Karola and La Vissi (who despite being alone onstage damn near filled the stage with her performance). Virginie does come across as sweet, but alas is a bit off-key. Since I’m a subscriber to the belief that contrasting with the entries the come before and after you is a good thing, she will hopefully do decently.

Croatia: Metros and restaurants for Croatia. Damn! Seve’s backing singers are in good voice. Seve is in better form than ever. She really does attack the stage, but it doesn’t really come together until she rips her dress off. Funnily enough, I can’t help but think of Sertab when she performs.

Ireland: I watched the Qualifier with the ex, and he absolutely detested the song and Brian’s performance. (He was pissed that this and Lithuania got through.) If he was watching this now, he’d still hate both and I’d be right along with him. Brian has toned himself done, but this song is still full of mawkish sentiment. Blah. I even think I heard a couple of boos.

Sweden: Bar and café life for Sweden. Carola is in slightly better voice, but really this performance just seems so-so. It is definitely amongst the better performances so far, but it feels so soulless. The white flags are definitely a metaphor and over the top. Another comment from the ex: When he saw Carola, he couldn’t stop laughing. Why? “You’d think she’d have more fashion sense.”

Turkey: Classic Greek educators (Aristotle, Homer, etc.) for Turkey. Even if she doesn’t win, Sibel at least wins for having the most attractive male dancers, who are still working their very attractive asses off. Her voice and performance is even sleeker than Thursday, which was already pretty sleek. Reports had her switching languages, and she does change to English for a moment in the final third. I have to say this (and I am very surprised to say this), but Sibel does outperform Seve. Whether that translates to votes, I do not know. All I know, is that if I was the head of TRT, I’d be checking with the Accounting Department.

Armenia: The Unibrower and the Calli-Girls still are capering about their table. I don’t know why, but this performance and song remind me of Macbeth. The Ex, when he saw this, was very unimpressed and shocked when it got through. I was impressed from a choreography standpoint, but The Unibrower is still in so-so voice (especially towards the end). That said, I think Armenia is probably in the Final next year…hopefully with a duet between Cher and Colton Ford.

Will & Grace come back on. Grace is wearing a very short dress that makes her look like a 9th Avenue prostitute. Will is dressed like Elvis. They explain the voting and Grace looks miffed whenever Will speaks, because it’s all about HER! Will promises us a surprise guest to kick off the voting: Nana Mouskouri. Nana still has her glasses, but I had never realised how short she is, unless Will & Grace are unusually tall. Nana gives a pep talk to the inevitable losers. Then Will & Nana mess up the hourglass.

Review: IUPP want to kick each other offstage; Arse was horrid, but everybody else onstage was good; Eddie was outdone by his backing singers; Cosmos had that damn robot; Miss Norway was pleasantly understated; The Ketchup were over their heads; Fabbo was subpar; The Teutonic Twang was cute and kitschy; Sidsel sang about twisting without actually doing so; The Mullet Twink was still incomprehensible; Elenina Sky smiled and looked eerily like Jennifer Lopez; Mihai was like every indistinguishable dance song you’ve ever heard; HMH was classy and dramatic; The Reservoir Dogs were appropriately booed; Daz was joyfully straight up British; La Vissi eventually brought it, dramatically; Lordi was a little bit better than Thursday; Karola went for maximum cuteness; Virginie was simple, quiet, and off key; Seve attacked the stage a la Sertab; Brian annoyed; Carola has no soul; Sibel brought it from the start; The Unibrower was marred by his voice.

I think it’s between Croatia, Turkey, with Bosnia & Herzegovina and Greece as dark horses. Either way, I reckon we're staying in Southern Europe, and not to Malta, Macedonia, Spain, or Armenia. The only one that might upset that is a win by Finland.

Helena performs some song about mambo that has a bouzoki break. Lyrics and performance together, it is “My Number One” mark two. The only difference here is that she is accompanied by all female dancers. It’s a pretty good song, but you’d think she’d try to stretch her range.

Will & Grace come back onstage. Grace is now in a black gown, while Will is still in a gold suit, still looking like Elvis. I get the sense that they’re not really getting along with each other. Grace is probably miffed that her Entertainment Tonight background means nothing outside of North America.

Commercial break time on TVE, which is a bit of downer, since Final Night intervals are more spectacular than the Qualifier Night, but I’m just happy to be able to view Eurovision live on television and not on a computer.

Will & Grace come back to prepare us for the voting. I wish I had some alcohol on hand, because lord knows these two will try my patience big time. If you didn’t know already, this year the 1-7 points will be shown automatically.

The Voting

Slovenia: Ooh, it’s Peter Poles with a “Maria marry me” t-shirt. Croatia gets 10. BiH gets the 12. Damn this is quick.

Andorra: Spain gets the 12. Not a shock.

Romania: Wow, the spokeswoman for Romania is pretty. Moldova gets the 12. Also not a shock.

Denmark: Finland gets the Danish 12. Good for them.

Latvia: The spokesman comes on to both Will & Grace, you sly dog. Russia gets their 12.

Portugal: Ukraine gets their 12. Karola & Co. do a dance with tambourines.

Sweden: Finland gets their 12. Neighbourly, but sweet.

Finland is in the lead, and I grow ever more adoring of Beatriz for talking over Will & Grace's inane chatter.

Finland: Russia gets the Finnish 12.

Belgium: The spokeswoman holds up a card with the results that says “We love Kate Ryan” on the back. Aww, I love La Ryan too--because she'll kick my ass otherwise. Armenia gets the Belgian 12.

Croatia: Another stunning spokeswoman. BiH gets the Croatian 12. They are very understated and polite in receiving their 12.

Serbia & Montenegro: Huh? Why are they voting? BiH gets their 12, which is no surprise whatsoever.

Norway: Finland gets the Norwegian 12, which is no shock, but still kind of them.

Grace makes an asinine comment about Lordi.

Estonia: Who did the spokeswoman’s hair? Finland gets the Estonian 12. Helsinki 2007 is beginning to look more and more like a possibility.

Ireland: Lithuania gets the Irish 12. Ouch for the UK.

Malta: Swtzerland gets the Maltese 12. It pays to have a Maltese in your IUPP.

Lithuania: Russia gets the Lithuanian 12. It wasn’t that good.

Cyprus: For awhile, the screen reads Switzerland. Beatriz & I are equally confused. Konstantinos sings the flipping 12 that we all know are going to Greece.

Grace leaves to go to the Green Room. Say goodnight, Grace.

Netherlands: The Dutch spokesman says that Will & Grace look like Will & Grace. Hahaha! It’s not just me that thinks that. I like you, Mr. Dutch spokesman. He also comes onto Will, who follows with an oral sex joke. Turkey gets the Dutch 12.

Switzerland: BiH gets the Swiss 12 with no sex jokes, unfortunately.

Commercial break: I bet this is where Grace makes a fool of herself in the Green Room. I’m now revising my prediction. We’re either going to Sarajevo, Helsinki, or Moscow.

Ukraine: Russia gets the Ukrainian 12. The Mullet Twink chirps happily.

Russia: Armenia gets the Russian 12. The Unibrower & Co. make faces at the camera.

Poland: This spokesman isn’t going to make any oral sex jokes whatsoever. He will make a joke about Poland giving points to themselves, however. Finland gets the actual Polish 12.

Will & Grace hawk the CD and the DVD. Helsinki 2007 moves ever closer.

United Kingdom: Finland gets the British 12 and a hand gesture.

Armenia: The spokeswoman speaks loud and flat. Russia gets the Armenian 12. The Mullet Twink & Co. make faces.

France: Turkey gets the French 12 in a very elegant fashion.

Belarus: The spokeswoman is where a bustier and looking like a trollop. Russia gets the 12. The Mullet Twink Company shake flags.

Germany: Oh lord, Axel is on a horse and wearing a cowboy outfit. Turkey gets the German 12.

Spain: Grace calls Spain “Estonia” while trying to speak Spanish. Idiot. Romania gets the Spanish 12.

Moldova: The spokeswoman looks scared and stilted. Romania gets the Moldovan 12, to no one’s surprise.

Bosnia & Herzegovina: Croatia gets the Bosnian 12, Seve waves sweetly at the camera.

Iceland: Finland gets the Icelandic 12. Grace proves herself to be even more foolish when Lordi hold up a sign: "I think that's Monster Talk."

Monaco: BiH gets the Monegasque 12.

Israel: Russia gets the Israeli 12. The Mullet Twink Company pump their fists excitedly.

Albania: BiH gets the Albanian 12. HMH & Company look a little more excited now, but still restrained.

Greece: Finland gets the Greek 12. Interestingly enough, Lordi are very restrained as victory gets ever closer.

Bulgaria: Greece gets the Bulgarian 12. La Vissi is also restrained and polite in the Green Room.

Macedonia: The spokesman sings to Will & Grace, but mostly to Will. BiH gets the Macedonian 12.

Turkey: BiH gets the Turkish 12.

And now, believe it or not, Finland has finally won Eurovision.

Of course, I’d rather that Sibel or Seve won, but I’m more than content with Lordi. I am surprised that Turkey & Croatia weren’t burning up the scoreboard as much as I thought they would. However, Fabbo coming last is a real surprise.

Grace calls them “Hard Rock Monsters.” Shut up, Grace.

Fireworks go up outside of the stadium. Perhaps it’s the costumes, but Lordi are not freaking out like most other winners. I like them.

Congratulations Lordi & Finland. God knows, you deserve it after waiting for so long.

As a final thought: Shut up, Grace.

Yes, Indeed...

...She kicked ass and took names.

It's Eurovision Week: 2006 Final Pre-Pre-Show

Now that we know all the finalists, here are my guesses for the Final, which will most likely be revised as the reports come in from the rehearsals.

Switzerland: IUPP will send Switzerland back to the Qualifier. People don't like cloying that much.

Moldova: Arse sends the Moldovans back to the Qualifier. I can't believe he actually believes he'll better Moldova's freak result from last year. (Yes, I'm calling it a freak result, because that song was extremely accessible.)

Israel: Eddie, come over here. I like you, really I do. However, unless you turn your ballad into a flotilla of glory notes, extreme facial expressions, and manic gestures, Israel is in the Qualifier next year.

Latvia: In the Qualifier next year.

Norway: Won't win, but Norway will be in the Final next year, most likely with an uptempo song, because that's just the way things are with Norway: ballad, uptempo, ballad, uptempo. Changing that pattern is like asking the moon to come up at 1 PM.

Spain: Won't bomb, but won't be in the top ten. Will manage the easy task of doing better than the Hags from last year.

Malta: The reports say Fabbo is crappo. Perhaps the shock of seeing Sibel, Karola, The Mullet Twink, and Lordi coalesce into a fierce block combined with Armenia doing a more aggressive version of the same type of song, will scare the Maltese into a serious overhaul. I still think this could be Malta's year (especially with La Ryan out of the running), but they will have to out-Andre Andre, and out-Mullet The Mullet Twink.

Germany: I don't know why, but everybody says this is going down well in rehearsals. I don't see it. Yet, given the reports, I can't discount it.

Denmark: Twist your way back into the Qualifier.

Russia: The Mullet Twink certainly capered his way into the Final, and Russia will be in the Final next year.

Macedonia: One day, Macedonia will win Eurovision with a song that appeals across all borders. Elenina Sky doesn't have that song. The Macedonian yo-yo continues. (Must be fun to know that you're guaranteed two times to perform.)

Romania: Coming right after Elenina Sky and right before HMH, does not help Mihai. Romania will be in the Qualifier next year. That said, expect a Romanian victory soon. Very Soon.

Bosnia & Herzegovina: Could go either way. On one hand, it's the best ballad after Norway (and I will be shocked to see if Ireland beat them out on points) . On the other hand, La Vissi has supposedly been saving all of her tricks and strength for Saturday and is only two comedy numbers away.

Lithuania: Won't win. Might very well bomb. Also The Reservoir Dogs are positioned right before a better comedy number.

United Kingdom: Won't win, but will give the UK its best result since 2002 (granted, that's not hard to do). If the BBC are watching (or perhaps I should say if they aren't watching, so as not to jinx it), the UK will win or get very close 2nd next year, since that will mark 10 years since the last British win.

Greece: Ok, forgive me Greeks, but La Vissi isn't going to make it two Greek wins in a row. Listen, I'm as shocked as all of you, but this just doesn't strike me as a ballad year. On the other hand, Greece is probably in the final for years to come. Greece is probably the new Sweden.

Finland: I don't know if I'm all that certain of a Finnish win. I think that Finland will be in the final next year, and I think Lordi will break the top ten, but if Sibel and even Karola came across as more powerful and engaging than metal schlager band...Well, you have to wonder.

Ukraine: Then again, Karola might've only come across as more powerful than Lordi because she preceded it in the Qualifier. Dancing cossacks jumping rope and an Athena dress might come across as too syrupy sweet after a "metal" band dressed like creatures from a Tolkien novel. Could go either way.

France: Coming after Lordi will definitely help Virginie. She won't win, nor come close. The French delagation even admitted such earlier this week. If France picks a really engaging performer (even--shock--a name), then they'll win. It's only a matter of time.

Croatia: I'm hoping that Seve saw Sibel and thought "bring it on." Since the reports on Seve are few and far between, I'm hoping that this means Croatia is truly a dark horse to win the lot. Nothing would make me lose my ever-loving mind (in a good way) then seeing Seve and Sibel duke it out for the win. Either way, Croatia is in the Final next year.

Ireland: La Vissi will chew him up and spit Ireland into next year's Qualifier.

Sweden: Now this is another tough call. I really want to see the results of the voting, because I suspect that Sweden did not make it through easily. I think it'll be a hard fight for Carola to reach the top 5, and since this is a rather intense year, I think Sweden is in danger of being in next year's Qualifier. If it weren't, then Carola would be easily screeching her way into the top 5. Coming right before Sibel is not doing her any favours whatsoever.

Turkey: Sibel or Seve for the win. If I was TRT, I'd be quaking in my boots about the possiblity of hosting again. The chances are very high this year that the winning entry will consist of a female soloist with all male backing performers, which means either Germany, Croatia, or Turkey.

Armenia: Well, I was surprised he made it into the Final with that shambolic performance. I'll be doubly surprised if he manages to keep Armenia in the Final next year.

So to summarise:

Probable Top 5 (in no particular order)

• Croatia
• Turkey
• Germany
• Finland
• Greece

Joining them in the Top 10

• Russia
• United Kingdom
• Malta (if they don't serious overhaul, if they do then Germany or Finland takes this spot)
• Norway
• Bosnia & Herzegovina