New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevey announced that he was "a gay American," and...nothing really happened afterwards except for a few little scandals over graft and whether Golan Cipel is lying about being straight.
This incident will be forever etched in my head as the time when I thought that "gay American" meant "happy." Seriously, it took me forever to realise that he was saying he was a homosexual.
August is not my smart month.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Ah, nostalgia!
There are countless things that I do not miss about living in Wisconsin. You can keep the boredom, the football obsession, the driving, all that.
What I do miss most of all--second to weather--is the food.
I don't just mean regional cuisine, I'm talking all types of food. Greater Milwaukee is one of the places where companies like to test market products, so we would get everything under the sun before they went national (if they ever did). It was a shock to my system when I first went to Los Angeles and saw that the grocery stores there had less than what I was used to in Wisconsin.
Sometimes, I go into a supermarket here in New York and I just feel sad for the shelves that will never know the beauty of holding Crystal Pepsi, 4 flavours of Jolt Cola, and Diet and regular Vernors all at the same time and even 3 separate sizes. Needless to say, beer and dairy products require at least 4 aisles.
Don't even get me started on the various things we've had from the fast food restaurants over the years.
Why, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, oh why did you have to publish a State Fair article on Cream Puffs vs. Brownies? It's just not fair when I'm stuck out East all August.
What I do miss most of all--second to weather--is the food.
I don't just mean regional cuisine, I'm talking all types of food. Greater Milwaukee is one of the places where companies like to test market products, so we would get everything under the sun before they went national (if they ever did). It was a shock to my system when I first went to Los Angeles and saw that the grocery stores there had less than what I was used to in Wisconsin.
Sometimes, I go into a supermarket here in New York and I just feel sad for the shelves that will never know the beauty of holding Crystal Pepsi, 4 flavours of Jolt Cola, and Diet and regular Vernors all at the same time and even 3 separate sizes. Needless to say, beer and dairy products require at least 4 aisles.
Don't even get me started on the various things we've had from the fast food restaurants over the years.
Why, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, oh why did you have to publish a State Fair article on Cream Puffs vs. Brownies? It's just not fair when I'm stuck out East all August.
Cripes!
I was having a good buzz listening to the Miami Sound Machine's "1-2-3" on VH1 Classic, when I stumbled across this tidbit on Keith Boykin's website: Apparently the Nation of Islam halted production on the long-awaited [at least by myself and I'm pretty certain a fair amount of other people] Noah's Arc, which is scheduled to air on LOGO.
Patrik-Ian Polk is a very talented auteur, and it's a shame that his show has to endure this. He did a great job with Punks, which I was very lucky to see at Boston's gay film festival several years ago. I hope that this only proves beneficial for the show and his career.
On a slightly eerie note, I think VH1 Classic is equally peeved. As I was writing this post they played Soul II Soul's "Back to Life" and then George Michael's "Freedom '90." That speaks volumes.
Patrik-Ian Polk is a very talented auteur, and it's a shame that his show has to endure this. He did a great job with Punks, which I was very lucky to see at Boston's gay film festival several years ago. I hope that this only proves beneficial for the show and his career.
On a slightly eerie note, I think VH1 Classic is equally peeved. As I was writing this post they played Soul II Soul's "Back to Life" and then George Michael's "Freedom '90." That speaks volumes.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Political Guilt: New York City Edition
These past two days, I've gotten hand-outs from two politicians that I really don't think I'm going to vote for. What makes it worse is that I really wish I could, but there's just nothing sbout them to make me switch my opinion, as least as it stands now.
Case #1: Gifford Miller (Mayoral candidate). The Empire State Pride Agenda is supporting him, but I just think he seems a bit too meek and not tenacious enough for me. Yes, it's great that he cut off funding for the West Side Stadium (aka the stadium nobody wanted for the Olympics that nobody wanted). It's also great that he's the youngest City Council Speaker in New York City history. As I don't have children (and I wouldn't raise them in New York if I did), I could care less about what he does for schools, except on a "they should at least know that Latvia is a real country" level.
Case #2: Brian Ellner (Manhattan Borough Presidential candidate). I had previously described my reservations with Ellner last month. My opinion has not changed. He's all good intentions, but I just don't think he can cut it on a large level. Yes, I definitely would like a gay Borough President, especially one whose campaign literature says "...without rent control I would never had the chance to grow up in Manhattan." He also is in favour of universal health care, stem cell research, and marriage equality (well, duh), but I just don't think he has the experience to make it work. He needs to convince me to vote for him, because I won't vote for symbolic reasons this time. (If I was voting for symbolism, then I'd support Fields for Mayor, but I don't.)
I don't know who I'm voting for vis-a-vis Borough president yet, but I think Anthony Weiner has a good shot with my vote for Mayor. He just seems like new blood, but experienced on the Federal level.
Nonetheless, this all may change by next month, and that's what matters.
You want to know how bizarre things are getting? I am not entirely dismissing La Pirro since she's seemingly more openly pro-gay than Hilary. It might just be August heat and humidity, but I'm listening to what she says. It'll take a lot more than camp value for me to switch over the Republicans, but my ears are open.
Case #1: Gifford Miller (Mayoral candidate). The Empire State Pride Agenda is supporting him, but I just think he seems a bit too meek and not tenacious enough for me. Yes, it's great that he cut off funding for the West Side Stadium (aka the stadium nobody wanted for the Olympics that nobody wanted). It's also great that he's the youngest City Council Speaker in New York City history. As I don't have children (and I wouldn't raise them in New York if I did), I could care less about what he does for schools, except on a "they should at least know that Latvia is a real country" level.
Case #2: Brian Ellner (Manhattan Borough Presidential candidate). I had previously described my reservations with Ellner last month. My opinion has not changed. He's all good intentions, but I just don't think he can cut it on a large level. Yes, I definitely would like a gay Borough President, especially one whose campaign literature says "...without rent control I would never had the chance to grow up in Manhattan." He also is in favour of universal health care, stem cell research, and marriage equality (well, duh), but I just don't think he has the experience to make it work. He needs to convince me to vote for him, because I won't vote for symbolic reasons this time. (If I was voting for symbolism, then I'd support Fields for Mayor, but I don't.)
I don't know who I'm voting for vis-a-vis Borough president yet, but I think Anthony Weiner has a good shot with my vote for Mayor. He just seems like new blood, but experienced on the Federal level.
Nonetheless, this all may change by next month, and that's what matters.
You want to know how bizarre things are getting? I am not entirely dismissing La Pirro since she's seemingly more openly pro-gay than Hilary. It might just be August heat and humidity, but I'm listening to what she says. It'll take a lot more than camp value for me to switch over the Republicans, but my ears are open.
Separated at birth
Perhaps I watch too much of The Bold & The Beautiful, but Jeanine Pirro, the recently announced Republican candidate for New York's Senate race (in other words, Hilary's seat) looks shockingly similar to Hunter Tylo.
What do you think?
La Tylo on the right, La Pirro on the left (for
the sake of irony). 
What do you think?
La Tylo on the right, La Pirro on the left (for
the sake of irony). 
This was just too twee to pass up
| H | Healthy |
| I | Intelligent |
| K | Kinky |
| A | Ambitious |
| R | Rare |
| U | Unforgettable |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
Yep, that sums me up.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Splash-View Post Mortem: Going to battle!
Technically, this should be Splash-View-XES post-mortem, but the XES portion was so insignificant that I won't count it.
So tonight I went to Splash as I am wont to do on a Tuesday night. I was witness to the battle of the grey-haired queens. In one corner, there was one physically fit queen in a tank top. In the other corner was a hard-working queen in polo shirt (henceforth referred to as "TT vs. Polo."). First and foremost, TT seemed to have an "in" with the Brazilian bartender, Alex. Every ten seconds it was "Alex (this), Alex (that)." Polo struck back with going out of his way to make sure that he kisssed Alex on the mouth.
In all honesty, it was a bit depressing, because the bartender is really only in this for the tips, but TT & Polo were definitely taking things more seriously than need be.
So tonight I went to Splash as I am wont to do on a Tuesday night. I was witness to the battle of the grey-haired queens. In one corner, there was one physically fit queen in a tank top. In the other corner was a hard-working queen in polo shirt (henceforth referred to as "TT vs. Polo."). First and foremost, TT seemed to have an "in" with the Brazilian bartender, Alex. Every ten seconds it was "Alex (this), Alex (that)." Polo struck back with going out of his way to make sure that he kisssed Alex on the mouth.
In all honesty, it was a bit depressing, because the bartender is really only in this for the tips, but TT & Polo were definitely taking things more seriously than need be.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Oh, the horror (film)!
I read the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel nearly every day. Mostly because I like Tim Cuprisin's Inside TV & Radio column (which is often times funnier than the New York Daily News's Inner Tube), but also because I get a chance to find out how bizarre things are in my hometown.
Apparently, some guy who teaches film at my old school (where film wasn't even an option!!!) is hoping to take over a shuttered elementary school in Mequon to shoot a low-budget horror film, or as the school board president described it "a creature feature."
Considering that Mequon is zealous about image, I'm truly shocked they actually are considering this. I know the city is greying, but they can't be that hard up, can they?
If this reads bitter, then you're bang on target. Mequon is Milwaukee's answer to Stepford. Every building has to be colonial. I do mean every building from houses to fast food restaurants to even gas stations. You will not even be allowed a permit unless the building is done in that style.
This is the same city where the police suffocated a teen who was resisting arrest with a gas mask issued by Homeland Security.
This is the same city where I sampled the wares of its middle-aged married male populace as a teenager, but was probably the only openly gay male for miles.
This is the same city that is so obsessed with cultivating a landed gentry image, that they are planning a subdivision for horse riders.
And now they are considering shooting daft horror films there? Has the world gone mad?
All right, well, I want to see if I can get the Mequon-Thiensville School Board to sign on to produce my play Mequon, which I can assure you, is not violent, at least in the physical sense.
We can stage it at Range Line Elementary. It'll be an atmospheric production, the audience can just walk around from room to room along with the actors. Oh, we'll use all local actors as well.
And they'll just love the subject matter.
Apparently, some guy who teaches film at my old school (where film wasn't even an option!!!) is hoping to take over a shuttered elementary school in Mequon to shoot a low-budget horror film, or as the school board president described it "a creature feature."
Considering that Mequon is zealous about image, I'm truly shocked they actually are considering this. I know the city is greying, but they can't be that hard up, can they?
If this reads bitter, then you're bang on target. Mequon is Milwaukee's answer to Stepford. Every building has to be colonial. I do mean every building from houses to fast food restaurants to even gas stations. You will not even be allowed a permit unless the building is done in that style.
This is the same city where the police suffocated a teen who was resisting arrest with a gas mask issued by Homeland Security.
This is the same city where I sampled the wares of its middle-aged married male populace as a teenager, but was probably the only openly gay male for miles.
This is the same city that is so obsessed with cultivating a landed gentry image, that they are planning a subdivision for horse riders.
And now they are considering shooting daft horror films there? Has the world gone mad?
All right, well, I want to see if I can get the Mequon-Thiensville School Board to sign on to produce my play Mequon, which I can assure you, is not violent, at least in the physical sense.
We can stage it at Range Line Elementary. It'll be an atmospheric production, the audience can just walk around from room to room along with the actors. Oh, we'll use all local actors as well.
And they'll just love the subject matter.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Truly Missed
Rest in Peace, Peter Jennings.
In the interest of levity, several interesting quotes pulled from the Special Report on ABC:
"Peter could scare the hell out of you." -- Charles Gibson
"A stunningly handsome man...a heartbreaker" -- Ted Koppel
It will be very strange watching the news knowing that he'll never come back to anchor.
Kudos to ABC for not making their tribute maudlin, but respectful and jovial.
In the interest of levity, several interesting quotes pulled from the Special Report on ABC:
"Peter could scare the hell out of you." -- Charles Gibson
"A stunningly handsome man...a heartbreaker" -- Ted Koppel
It will be very strange watching the news knowing that he'll never come back to anchor.
Kudos to ABC for not making their tribute maudlin, but respectful and jovial.
Eurovision in August
According to esctoday, the rumour mill has it that Despina Vandi will be asked to be the Greek entry for next year.
The main reason that this is of interest to me, is that Splash for some reason plays Despina Vandi videos every time I get in there. If indeed this turns out to be true, I wouldn't be surprised if they air next year's Greek final.
That is all, reckon we. Anorak mode: off.
The main reason that this is of interest to me, is that Splash for some reason plays Despina Vandi videos every time I get in there. If indeed this turns out to be true, I wouldn't be surprised if they air next year's Greek final.
That is all, reckon we. Anorak mode: off.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Saturday Morning Lyrics
The first few verses of the original Pokemon theme (translated from Japanese, courtesy of Anime Lyrics) give a creepy spin on the whole "gotta catch 'em all" idea:
(I'll get you, Pokemon!)
For example, in fire, in water, in grass, in forests
in earth, in clouds, in that girl's skirt (eek!)
very, very,
very, very difficult but
surely I'll get you!
I'll get you, Pokemon!
farewell, bye-bye, Masara Town
I'm taking a journey with my friends (pikachu!)
I'll win with my sharpened skills
and make new friends as I go to the next city
of course I always go dexterously
there's no compensation, but... (that's not so!)
I always, always live seriously
because I have my friends
For example, in fire, in water, in grass, in forests
in earth, in clouds, in that girl's skirt (you're persistent!)
very, very, very, very difficult
but surely I'll get you!
I'll get you, Pokemon
I got tired in battle, good night, good night
if I close my eyes, I'll revive (pikachu?)
flames burn, winds blow
that battle roars
yesterday's enemy is today's friend
those are old words but... (what do you mean "old"!)
today's friend is also tomorrow's friend
yeah, forever
Ah! I long to become a Pokemon master
I must become one
I will surely become one!
It doesn't sound so much like he's trying to exhort children to be Pokemon masters, but rather Moby Dick style obsessive predators and perverts. Not to mention what's with all this flippant "yeah, forever" business?
You were warned, children.
(I'll get you, Pokemon!)
For example, in fire, in water, in grass, in forests
in earth, in clouds, in that girl's skirt (eek!)
very, very,
very, very difficult but
surely I'll get you!
I'll get you, Pokemon!
farewell, bye-bye, Masara Town
I'm taking a journey with my friends (pikachu!)
I'll win with my sharpened skills
and make new friends as I go to the next city
of course I always go dexterously
there's no compensation, but... (that's not so!)
I always, always live seriously
because I have my friends
For example, in fire, in water, in grass, in forests
in earth, in clouds, in that girl's skirt (you're persistent!)
very, very, very, very difficult
but surely I'll get you!
I'll get you, Pokemon
I got tired in battle, good night, good night
if I close my eyes, I'll revive (pikachu?)
flames burn, winds blow
that battle roars
yesterday's enemy is today's friend
those are old words but... (what do you mean "old"!)
today's friend is also tomorrow's friend
yeah, forever
Ah! I long to become a Pokemon master
I must become one
I will surely become one!
It doesn't sound so much like he's trying to exhort children to be Pokemon masters, but rather Moby Dick style obsessive predators and perverts. Not to mention what's with all this flippant "yeah, forever" business?
You were warned, children.
In 2038: A lot of old doors have new knobs
(2038 seems increasingly more bizarre the more I read these entries.)
The CBC is going through a nostalgia kick, and it seems to benefit me. Well, partially. I don't want to seem like some sort of male Greta Garbo, but I don't want to be one of those people who are constantly cashing in on their glory days. Hell, no. I live forward.
Nonetheless, a big enough check can get me off of my high horse. So next week, I'm off to Toronto to go record the first episode of Remembering the Teens. For my bit, they're focusing in on Peter and Reflection (aka the cash cows which gave the CBC bucketloads of money in syndication). They're also dragging up Ryan Reynolds and Ken to give their thoughts as well.
Ken & I had a long talk about what we would say and what we wouldn't say vis-a-vis Reflection. The end result? We're taping our segments separately. He doesn't want to be present while I basically say that those sex scenes weren't exactly as fake as people thought.
Personally, for all the career highlights I had during the Teens, I actually think the Twenties were more interesting, especially for Americans. You had:
The CBC is going through a nostalgia kick, and it seems to benefit me. Well, partially. I don't want to seem like some sort of male Greta Garbo, but I don't want to be one of those people who are constantly cashing in on their glory days. Hell, no. I live forward.
Nonetheless, a big enough check can get me off of my high horse. So next week, I'm off to Toronto to go record the first episode of Remembering the Teens. For my bit, they're focusing in on Peter and Reflection (aka the cash cows which gave the CBC bucketloads of money in syndication). They're also dragging up Ryan Reynolds and Ken to give their thoughts as well.
Ken & I had a long talk about what we would say and what we wouldn't say vis-a-vis Reflection. The end result? We're taping our segments separately. He doesn't want to be present while I basically say that those sex scenes weren't exactly as fake as people thought.
Personally, for all the career highlights I had during the Teens, I actually think the Twenties were more interesting, especially for Americans. You had:
- The implosion of the Democrats and the Republicans in 2020, who subsequently morphed into the Liberals and Conservatives. Not to mention, SP-USA actually forming the House majority in 2024.
- The amalgamation of ABC, NBC, CBS, and old PBS into the new PBS System in 2026. That was fun. Especially when the old NBC and ABC news anchors in New York and Los Angeles actually rioted during their protest. I thought that was funny. A whole bunch of people in Brooks Brothers suits trashing Central Park. I still crack up laughing whenever they show it. I don't know what their problem was, since The CW and Fox are still around. (Well, it's still "Fox" even though Newscorp got broken up and divided in 2019.)
- The election of Liberal President Butch Hall in 2028. For starters, I still can't believe that his parents actually named him "Butch." We get our first openly gay president and his name is Butch! Not to mention the Butch-mania that ran rampant across the US for the next 8 years. Apart from the children (both male and female) named after him, there was the whole "new name" craze that saw "Chaz," "Mags," "Al," and "Shaz" up on the list of most popular names.
- The Scientology trials from 2020 to 2024. Who can forget the image of Tom Cruise spitting wildly at John Travolta for being "a turncoat?" The man truly did live in an ivory tower. And poor Katie Holmes, looking as vacant as a Manson Family member.
- Conservative President Suzanne Trainer going on television in 2021, apologising to the LGBT community for all the Republican gay-baiting. Even better, she even proceeded to air out all the Republicans' dirty laundry! I mean, I knew Santorum was hypocritical, but even an old slut like me was shocked at what he did. And Sensenbrenner was a true shock. He had no business criticising Clinton over Lewinsky while he was busy being an old leather queen.
- The signing of the Comprehensive [don't-even-try-to-overturn-it] Equal Rights Amendment in 2021. I don't like the Conservatives, but they're ten times better than their predecessors.
- The Francophile craze that swept both Canada and the US in 2023. Johnny Hallyday videos played on MTV? People in Iowa able to cite the lyrics from Celine Dion's back catalogue by heart? Night of a 1000 Mylene Farmers in Calgary? Bizarre.
- Senator Affleck. I like the man, but that still boggles my mind.
Then again, I will be able to talk about the Bush cabinet trials of 2010, so there was at least some interesting things that happened in the Teens.
Friday, August 05, 2005
In 2038: Biloxi is the new San Francisco
(Apparently I moved to Mississippi after raising children. Talk about life going full circle. I can't even imagine moving to the place my father called "the old country.")
We had the Pride parade today. It was like going back in time to Oughties New York. A whole bunch of shirtless men and women waving rainbow flags down Main Street. The local PBS1 station covered it live. They even had their own float, which I joined them on.
I was sitting smack dab between Lyle Ralston, the 5 PM anchor, and his 2nd husband, Peter. He doesn't like to talk about Jonathan, which, fair play to him, I wouldn't either since all and sundry ask him about that kiss at the Superbowl. You know, I try to be witty and entertaining whenever I'm on air, but in ultra-humid Biloxi I was just trying to stay lucid.
Sample exchange:
Lyle: You've been living here for 2 years now, what d'you think of how we do Pride down here?
Me: It...good.
Lyle: Come again?
Me: Hmphbleaha...Could you pass the water bottle, please?
I recovered by the time we got closer to the beach, but in one [unfortunately live on television] moment, Lyle and State Senator Moxon (aka "Fox-on Moxon" and yes, he is) doused me with water. Now, that may have been cute when I was in my twenties and thirties, but I'm nearly 60! I don't like surprises even if they come from hot men.
The big dance was held out on Deer Island. That's right, Deer Island, the marshy wildlife preserve. I don't know how they did it, I don't even know why they did it, because honestly, the casinos were practically begging Pride Biloxi to host the dance. It was one nasty battle that seemed to prove that the Dixie Mafia had indeed gone gay. I just hate to imagine the cleanup bill after 10,000 people. (Oh yes, 10,000, and they were saying this was a light year.)
Nonetheless, it was worth braving the mosquitoes to hear Bobbi Kristina perform. That woman is still kicking ass in her forties. She's like Cher, Liza Minnelli, and Streisand rolled into one, and I'm just talking about her image. If indeed the old saying about greatness coming from crazy is true, then she's superb. (It also makes me a little optimistic about Four's success. She most definitely is the product of two deranged parents.) The best thing was seeing her come onto the stage and the crowd greeted her with "I'm not doing this with him, todaaaaay." She started laughing.
After she did her set, the other act was Sunny, the drag queen whose Shirley Bassey-esque voice has kept her on the charts since '30. And she's only 32 now. Seriously, 32! You know how they're always saying how people are fainting at her concerts? Well, I always thought that was a bunch of hokum, but they aren't kidding. This group of big strapping frat boys from Ole Miss (I think one of them is the quarterback up there) practically parted the crowd in their rush to see her. Midway through "Diamonds are forever" those boys fell with a thud straight out of a movie.
Being that I no longer have the stamina to dance all night, I caught the GulfRail home. (You know, we used to always think that Disney was so outdated with the monorail. Who knew? The thing takes you straight from downtown to Brasher Bayou in 10 minutes.) I got home just in time to get a call from Ken--who seems to forget that there's a serious time difference between Osaka and Biloxi, when the first thing out of his mouth is "Wow, you look wrecked."
Ain't he a charmer?
We had the Pride parade today. It was like going back in time to Oughties New York. A whole bunch of shirtless men and women waving rainbow flags down Main Street. The local PBS1 station covered it live. They even had their own float, which I joined them on.
I was sitting smack dab between Lyle Ralston, the 5 PM anchor, and his 2nd husband, Peter. He doesn't like to talk about Jonathan, which, fair play to him, I wouldn't either since all and sundry ask him about that kiss at the Superbowl. You know, I try to be witty and entertaining whenever I'm on air, but in ultra-humid Biloxi I was just trying to stay lucid.
Sample exchange:
Lyle: You've been living here for 2 years now, what d'you think of how we do Pride down here?
Me: It...good.
Lyle: Come again?
Me: Hmphbleaha...Could you pass the water bottle, please?
I recovered by the time we got closer to the beach, but in one [unfortunately live on television] moment, Lyle and State Senator Moxon (aka "Fox-on Moxon" and yes, he is) doused me with water. Now, that may have been cute when I was in my twenties and thirties, but I'm nearly 60! I don't like surprises even if they come from hot men.
The big dance was held out on Deer Island. That's right, Deer Island, the marshy wildlife preserve. I don't know how they did it, I don't even know why they did it, because honestly, the casinos were practically begging Pride Biloxi to host the dance. It was one nasty battle that seemed to prove that the Dixie Mafia had indeed gone gay. I just hate to imagine the cleanup bill after 10,000 people. (Oh yes, 10,000, and they were saying this was a light year.)
Nonetheless, it was worth braving the mosquitoes to hear Bobbi Kristina perform. That woman is still kicking ass in her forties. She's like Cher, Liza Minnelli, and Streisand rolled into one, and I'm just talking about her image. If indeed the old saying about greatness coming from crazy is true, then she's superb. (It also makes me a little optimistic about Four's success. She most definitely is the product of two deranged parents.) The best thing was seeing her come onto the stage and the crowd greeted her with "I'm not doing this with him, todaaaaay." She started laughing.
After she did her set, the other act was Sunny, the drag queen whose Shirley Bassey-esque voice has kept her on the charts since '30. And she's only 32 now. Seriously, 32! You know how they're always saying how people are fainting at her concerts? Well, I always thought that was a bunch of hokum, but they aren't kidding. This group of big strapping frat boys from Ole Miss (I think one of them is the quarterback up there) practically parted the crowd in their rush to see her. Midway through "Diamonds are forever" those boys fell with a thud straight out of a movie.
Being that I no longer have the stamina to dance all night, I caught the GulfRail home. (You know, we used to always think that Disney was so outdated with the monorail. Who knew? The thing takes you straight from downtown to Brasher Bayou in 10 minutes.) I got home just in time to get a call from Ken--who seems to forget that there's a serious time difference between Osaka and Biloxi, when the first thing out of his mouth is "Wow, you look wrecked."
Ain't he a charmer?
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Canada's new head of state...
...is gorgeous and smarter than the rest of us.
I don't think we'll ever get someone that good-looking in a major level in the US.
I don't think we'll ever get someone that good-looking in a major level in the US.
Splash Post-Mortem: Avant-garde poetry edition
Woke up naked.
Had cheese fry crumbs on my thigh.
Remember flirting with a muscular Israeli bartender
And trying to drink martinis.
I can't pull off being coy
Without my id bursting into laughter.
Why would a rapper call himself Nelly?
And make so many videos?
Doesn't he know that is an invitation for ridicule?
My new favourite drink is a greyhound
But it's dangerous to drink it
Unless you like waking up naked in the morning
with cheese fry crumbs that you don't remember buying.
(Et tu, Rosie O'Donnell, et tu?)
Had cheese fry crumbs on my thigh.
Remember flirting with a muscular Israeli bartender
And trying to drink martinis.
I can't pull off being coy
Without my id bursting into laughter.
Why would a rapper call himself Nelly?
And make so many videos?
Doesn't he know that is an invitation for ridicule?
My new favourite drink is a greyhound
But it's dangerous to drink it
Unless you like waking up naked in the morning
with cheese fry crumbs that you don't remember buying.
(Et tu, Rosie O'Donnell, et tu?)
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
In 2038: They redefined "queer"
(More musings from 2038)
Apparently "queer" is back to being a pejorative, but not how it used to be. They're using it to describe all the ex-gay fanatics that are now in jail. From what I gather, "queer" means anyone who is zealous in their piety.
Today the networks interrupted regular programming to show the parole hearing of one of the head honchos from Exodus. PBS 3 (remember when that was NBC?) had a commentary by this one ex-member and his sister, which nearly made me break down in tears. As much as I like this new Liberal government in the US, sometimes I do hate these transparency-in-court laws. Still, this was history, especially for me.
For nearly two hours, we heard testimony of the brutal brainwashing that they forced upon people. All this talk about how "god will hate you if you act upon your nature." Disturbing. The most unnerving one to me was when the woman who could barely speak after her tracheotomy, which was brought on by a botched suicide attempt. Yet, the guy remained defiant. His whole world seemed to be defined by twisting religion as hate.
You know, I saw the Dahmer trial live and uncensored while growing up (which featured the first time I had ever heard the word "fuck" on broadcast television), but that didn't unnerve me as much as this. I was seriously shaking by the time it was all over.
And yet, I was happy that I've lived long enough to see it.
Apparently "queer" is back to being a pejorative, but not how it used to be. They're using it to describe all the ex-gay fanatics that are now in jail. From what I gather, "queer" means anyone who is zealous in their piety.
Today the networks interrupted regular programming to show the parole hearing of one of the head honchos from Exodus. PBS 3 (remember when that was NBC?) had a commentary by this one ex-member and his sister, which nearly made me break down in tears. As much as I like this new Liberal government in the US, sometimes I do hate these transparency-in-court laws. Still, this was history, especially for me.
For nearly two hours, we heard testimony of the brutal brainwashing that they forced upon people. All this talk about how "god will hate you if you act upon your nature." Disturbing. The most unnerving one to me was when the woman who could barely speak after her tracheotomy, which was brought on by a botched suicide attempt. Yet, the guy remained defiant. His whole world seemed to be defined by twisting religion as hate.
You know, I saw the Dahmer trial live and uncensored while growing up (which featured the first time I had ever heard the word "fuck" on broadcast television), but that didn't unnerve me as much as this. I was seriously shaking by the time it was all over.
And yet, I was happy that I've lived long enough to see it.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
In 2038: They call me MISTER Grandma!
(So I'm having my dinner, when I get a package delivery. I open it up, and it's a disk. After scanning of viruses and such, I find out that it's apparently the musings from myself 33 years from now. Here's the entry from August 1, 2038.)
My grandson is starting to ask questions. His first one was "why is mommy's first name Four?" I wanted to ask him why my daughter insisted on giving him the name Jake. Not Jacob, but Jake. He's only eight now, but he'll get a complex about it in a few years. She rode the wave of President Butch-mania, now her child will have it in for her when he grows up.
Anyway, the answer I gave was this: "Well, your mother is special so I gave her a special name. I just wasn't expecting her to use it."
"Why?"
Boy, I hated that when the kids were, well, kids. "Why? Why? Why?"
"She was special because I gave birth to her."
"Oh."
Not "wow," but "oh." The little ingrate. (I know, I know. Children are precious, blah blah blah.) They've only had male pregnancy for 30 years and the current generation is so blase about it. In order to impress upon this child just how important this was, I had to give him the whole story. Well, the G rated version.
"Your grandfather & I were very happy living in Toronto, but something was missing. The penthouse felt lonely with just the two of us there."
Lie #1: I thoroughly enjoyed having Ken gone half the time. It meant that I could actually finish my scripts. Besides, we had those multi-purpose wall length videophones/television/computers. That man could check on me whenever he damn well felt like it. And he didn't, that's why I love him.
"So we decided that we wanted some company, a sweet little angel. So we went to the doctor and said we want a baby. "
Lie #2: Oh, we wanted a child, but the arguments over who was going to carry it were vicious. Ken told me "I'm too pretty to get pregnant." I shot back "So I'm supposed to get huge instead?" After several debates that put Lincoln & Douglass to shame, as well as 5 games of rock-paper-scissors, he pulled his trump card: "I am not touring with an ever-increasing stomach." He got the silent treatment for some time after that.
"And the doctor hooked us up to a machine, and your mother appeared in my stomach."
Lie#4: Now I couldn't very well tell the child that his mother was the product of 4 HOURS worth of sex with his grandfather all performed with a whole bunch of tubes attached to my neither regions. (Not to mention with the least sexiest doctor on Earth watching over the entire procedure.) I know it's prudish, but I'm sorry. By the way, do not believe these queens who tell you that conception is bliss. I like an orgasm as much as the next guy, but after 4 hours, you're just plum tired and want it over with.
"I had a fun time being pregnant. I almost never wanted it to end."
Lie #5: Ever since men could get pregnant, the courtesy stopped. No one made space for me on the train, or in restaurants. They didn't want to do jack, but just go "awww." And I was only the fourth man in Toronto to get knocked up so there was the curiosity aspect combined with my previous mid-level celebrity. Nowadays, they don't even coo at either women or men. I cry for this world, sometimes.
"But one day, your mother gave me a light tap inside and said she wanted to meet us in person."
Lie #6: That child didn't give any tap. She did a roundhouse! It didn't stop there either, she did the can-can, krumped, and I swear at one point she got her hands on an infant-sized jackhammer. I'm already getting the chills writing about it.
Jake smiled at the end of my fairy tale (no pun intended). I'm now thinking that I sugar-coated things too much. Perhaps that's a good thing. Just the other day I saw some man on television extolling the virtues of the "new masculine mystique," which screams ploy, but Jessica Simpson (who'd of thought she'd be the new Katie Couric?) was ate it all up.
That being said, Ken was getting rather amorous in bed the other day. I leaned over, smiled sweetly, and told him "NEVER AGAIN ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH!"
My grandson is starting to ask questions. His first one was "why is mommy's first name Four?" I wanted to ask him why my daughter insisted on giving him the name Jake. Not Jacob, but Jake. He's only eight now, but he'll get a complex about it in a few years. She rode the wave of President Butch-mania, now her child will have it in for her when he grows up.
Anyway, the answer I gave was this: "Well, your mother is special so I gave her a special name. I just wasn't expecting her to use it."
"Why?"
Boy, I hated that when the kids were, well, kids. "Why? Why? Why?"
"She was special because I gave birth to her."
"Oh."
Not "wow," but "oh." The little ingrate. (I know, I know. Children are precious, blah blah blah.) They've only had male pregnancy for 30 years and the current generation is so blase about it. In order to impress upon this child just how important this was, I had to give him the whole story. Well, the G rated version.
"Your grandfather & I were very happy living in Toronto, but something was missing. The penthouse felt lonely with just the two of us there."
Lie #1: I thoroughly enjoyed having Ken gone half the time. It meant that I could actually finish my scripts. Besides, we had those multi-purpose wall length videophones/television/computers. That man could check on me whenever he damn well felt like it. And he didn't, that's why I love him.
"So we decided that we wanted some company, a sweet little angel. So we went to the doctor and said we want a baby. "
Lie #2: Oh, we wanted a child, but the arguments over who was going to carry it were vicious. Ken told me "I'm too pretty to get pregnant." I shot back "So I'm supposed to get huge instead?" After several debates that put Lincoln & Douglass to shame, as well as 5 games of rock-paper-scissors, he pulled his trump card: "I am not touring with an ever-increasing stomach." He got the silent treatment for some time after that.
"And the doctor hooked us up to a machine, and your mother appeared in my stomach."
Lie#4: Now I couldn't very well tell the child that his mother was the product of 4 HOURS worth of sex with his grandfather all performed with a whole bunch of tubes attached to my neither regions. (Not to mention with the least sexiest doctor on Earth watching over the entire procedure.) I know it's prudish, but I'm sorry. By the way, do not believe these queens who tell you that conception is bliss. I like an orgasm as much as the next guy, but after 4 hours, you're just plum tired and want it over with.
"I had a fun time being pregnant. I almost never wanted it to end."
Lie #5: Ever since men could get pregnant, the courtesy stopped. No one made space for me on the train, or in restaurants. They didn't want to do jack, but just go "awww." And I was only the fourth man in Toronto to get knocked up so there was the curiosity aspect combined with my previous mid-level celebrity. Nowadays, they don't even coo at either women or men. I cry for this world, sometimes.
"But one day, your mother gave me a light tap inside and said she wanted to meet us in person."
Lie #6: That child didn't give any tap. She did a roundhouse! It didn't stop there either, she did the can-can, krumped, and I swear at one point she got her hands on an infant-sized jackhammer. I'm already getting the chills writing about it.
Jake smiled at the end of my fairy tale (no pun intended). I'm now thinking that I sugar-coated things too much. Perhaps that's a good thing. Just the other day I saw some man on television extolling the virtues of the "new masculine mystique," which screams ploy, but Jessica Simpson (who'd of thought she'd be the new Katie Couric?) was ate it all up.
That being said, Ken was getting rather amorous in bed the other day. I leaned over, smiled sweetly, and told him "NEVER AGAIN ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH!"
Monday, August 01, 2005
Oh, the irony!
The letter from the editor in this month's issue of Out is quite interesting, given the source:
"When you look at yourself naked in the mirror, are you turned on by what you see? I ask the question not to invite narcissm but to raise a subject that we all, openly or not, obsess about: body image."
In the column, Brendan Lemon goes on to point out (tepidly) the role that Out has played in this, with their infamous selection of half-naked buff (mostly straight) cover men:
"Like many people, I view cover guys with conflicted emotions (even as I obviously understand, and promote, their appeal). I feel drawn to these guys' beauty. I also experience a sinking inability to match it, not to mention a secret resentment of them, the kind expressed by a character in the 11th century Japanese prose masterpiece The Tale of Genji: 'The way good looks have of blotting out everyone else can be rather annoying.'"
Hmm. Well, this is quite the shocker. I find the section about him promoting the appeal of the cover guys very interesting. Personally, I've always felt that Lemon talks out of his ass ever since that whole "I'm-dating-a-closeted-baseball-player" debacle, which really had nothing to do with anything.
On this point, however; he's onto something. I mention this, partly because I've been described as a self-loathing black man (which seems to me more like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole--it just doesn't describe my insecurities (especially anorexia) in total) and partly because I've been going through this post-surgery period extremely paranoid about my body. I am frankly, a neurotic mess. I make no bones about it, I just am.
This is the quagmire that I think a lot of gay men fall into. We both want to be and be with Adonises, and no one would ever admit to being one, because arrogance is unseemly. Yet, many of us exercise ourselves to the point of no return hoping against hope that we can get just a taste of the magic that the aesthetically pleasing elite possesses. I know that's part of the reason I go psycho in the gym. (The other reason being to run further away from the chubby, awkward, outscast that I was 7 years ago.)
Lemon touches on this:
"Remember that you take care of your physical self not primarily to attract others but to please yourself. This reminder is perhaps more difficult for gay men than for straight: 'Settling down' seems harder to acheive for us than for the straight guys, and so the search to stay eternally attractive feels more pressing...Perhaps the worst aspect of bodily perfectionism is the way it diminshes our sensual selves. If you don't believe me, ask yourself: Would you rather have dinner with someone who likes an occasional bit of dessert, or someone who can't stop talking about his no-trans-fat diet?"
Amen.
But I wonder how long this lesson will last?
"When you look at yourself naked in the mirror, are you turned on by what you see? I ask the question not to invite narcissm but to raise a subject that we all, openly or not, obsess about: body image."
In the column, Brendan Lemon goes on to point out (tepidly) the role that Out has played in this, with their infamous selection of half-naked buff (mostly straight) cover men:
"Like many people, I view cover guys with conflicted emotions (even as I obviously understand, and promote, their appeal). I feel drawn to these guys' beauty. I also experience a sinking inability to match it, not to mention a secret resentment of them, the kind expressed by a character in the 11th century Japanese prose masterpiece The Tale of Genji: 'The way good looks have of blotting out everyone else can be rather annoying.'"
Hmm. Well, this is quite the shocker. I find the section about him promoting the appeal of the cover guys very interesting. Personally, I've always felt that Lemon talks out of his ass ever since that whole "I'm-dating-a-closeted-baseball-player" debacle, which really had nothing to do with anything.
On this point, however; he's onto something. I mention this, partly because I've been described as a self-loathing black man (which seems to me more like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole--it just doesn't describe my insecurities (especially anorexia) in total) and partly because I've been going through this post-surgery period extremely paranoid about my body. I am frankly, a neurotic mess. I make no bones about it, I just am.
This is the quagmire that I think a lot of gay men fall into. We both want to be and be with Adonises, and no one would ever admit to being one, because arrogance is unseemly. Yet, many of us exercise ourselves to the point of no return hoping against hope that we can get just a taste of the magic that the aesthetically pleasing elite possesses. I know that's part of the reason I go psycho in the gym. (The other reason being to run further away from the chubby, awkward, outscast that I was 7 years ago.)
Lemon touches on this:
"Remember that you take care of your physical self not primarily to attract others but to please yourself. This reminder is perhaps more difficult for gay men than for straight: 'Settling down' seems harder to acheive for us than for the straight guys, and so the search to stay eternally attractive feels more pressing...Perhaps the worst aspect of bodily perfectionism is the way it diminshes our sensual selves. If you don't believe me, ask yourself: Would you rather have dinner with someone who likes an occasional bit of dessert, or someone who can't stop talking about his no-trans-fat diet?"
Amen.
But I wonder how long this lesson will last?
Who's minding the store?
We need another Irving Thalberg, because the people green-lighting these films need to be taken out back and shot:
- The 40 Year Old Virgin (As much as I find Steve Carrell attractive, this film has asinine written all over it. I know he's got a cult following, but Judd Apatow is a hack in my book.)
- Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo (Even the 12-14 year old boys are groaning.)
- Four Brothers (The Sons of Katie Elder redone as an urban thriller/drama; By the way, who thought that Andre 3000 and Tyrese could act? They can't. They're nice to look at, but they can't act.)
- Undiscovered (Random pretty people trying to get famous in Los Angeles. Just re-release Fame.)
- Underclassman (You must be joking. Does anyone still find the ancient "detective/agent going undercover at a school" bit interesting?)
And they wonder why no one goes to the movies anymore.
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