The American Healthcare System At Work

One of my favourite movie sequences is from The Twelve Tasks of Asterix, wherein Asterix and Obelix go searching for a form inside a huge Roman bureaucracy entitled "The House That Drives You Mad."

Sample dialogue:

Bureaucrat 1: I can't give you form B, without form C. You'll have to go upstairs for form C.

Bureaucrat 2: They didn't give you form C downstairs? Alright, but first you have to fill out form B. Go downstairs.

And so on and so forth.

Today, I went over to a eye hospital (I'm not saying where) to see if the redness in my eyes was pinkeye or something that required serious care.

Since I can see perfectly, I first go into the huge snaking line downstairs marked "Outpatient Registration." (This is at 10 am, for reasons that will become apparent later.) 5 minutes in, an employee canvassing the line (in order for it to move faster), pulls me aside and says that I should go upstairs to Triage. I go upstairs to Triage, wait in another line for 2 minutes, only to be told that the actual "Triage" section is around the corner. I go around the corner, wait 5 minutes only to be told to sign my name in a book and wait to be called.

I dutifully sign the book and wait 10 minutes for my name to be called. My name is called and I head into a room where I'm asked the standard medical questions (fever, cold, medication, etc.) and have my blood pressure and temperature taken. (Both normal, by the way.) Then I'm told to go into another area and wait.

I wait there for 5 minutes until my name is called. Another nurse collects me and takes me into another room where my vision is checked and again, I'm asked the standard medical questions. She then gives me a set of forms and instructs me to go back down to Outpatient Registration and hand them to the employee canvassing the line.

That's right, literally go back to where I came from.

I give the forms to the employee canvassing the line, who gives me a congenial look that tells me that he was expecting my return. He gives me another set of forms to fill out with a dull pencil. I fill them out. He then announces to the rest of the line: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but this is an emergency patient and due to hospital policy, he must be served first." I'm subsquently escorted to the front of the line, to do something which I could've accomplished 22 minutes ago.

At registration, I'm asked about my insurance and social status for about 10-12 minutes through a tinny speaker. After parting smiles with several new forms and shiny red card with my name on it, I'm then sent back upstairs to another section, where I wait in line for 5 minutes to give the card and forms to the receptionist. In a bit of comic irony, these vaulted forms are received with a perfunctory "please sit down over there."

And I sit.

And I sit.

And I sit some more.

When I start pondering how insane this system is considering that I've been labelled an "emergency" patient, the receptionist calls my name and has me fill out another form.

I was rather struck by the repetitiveness of the forms. They all ask me my birth date, name, medical provider, and how long I've been having the trouble. Do they not read the forms they ask people to give them? Does one slip of paper have a different meaning than the other? It seemed more like an action to pass the time rather than provide necessary information.

After a 30 minute wait, I'm finally called into a room and meet with an attending doctor who again runs vision tests on me that are the exact spitting image of the ones I had earlier. Then I'm treated to a fresh hell I have never experienced before: having my eyelids flipped. I did not do this as a child and I do not do this as an adult. I don't know if it's the shape of my eyelids, but it was having chlorine rush into your eyes. Painful.

The intern then puts eyedrops in my eyes to dilate them. She chides me for not keeping both eyes open. I have no trouble sympathising with her--since it's clearly evident that everyone there is overworked--but at the same time, it is not the easiest thing to keep both eyes open when someone is dropping something that stings into your eyeball.

I'm just saying.

An attending doctor comes in and does pretty much the same thing: look left, look right, look up, look down, let's flip your lid again.

He then talks mostly to the intern, saving only the same standard medical questions for me. (Don't you people talk about this beforehand?) The intern drops even more dilating fluid into my eyes and has me do the look left, look right dance again with both tearing and twitching eyes open.

Then I'm told to wait outside for 20 minutes for the dilating fluid to kick in.

Oh, joy.

The intern comes and picks me up again and we go into the same examination room from whence we came. More of the look left, look right dance. Another attending comes in and does the same. This one is rather mean because he doesn't even warn me when he flips my eyelids.

The ultimate diagnosis: subconjunctival hemorrage. No need to do anything but just let it clear up, but "would you follow up with us?"

I nod my head because I'm supposed to, but in all honesty, there's no way on god's green earth I'm going to go back there and through that maze for a follow up visit.

So what have we learned here, Charlie Brown?

Well, I reckon it's that the pass-the-buck nature of HMOs and other trappings of American healthcare wherein profits trump people has created a pointless bureaucracy where people spend more time telling others the when, if, and how they're going to pay as opposed to actually getting treated.

Either that or the next time you think you might be sick, just stay at home and wish it away.

By the way, remember that I started this process at 10 am? I left there at 1:59 pm, complete with blurry drunk vision from having my pupils dilated.

The Splash-View Post-Mortem: Entitlement

Tonight's drunken stumble back home brought to you by Kumi Koda, who I reckon would probably not come close to being as obnoxious as some people that I encountered at The View.

There are few things that stoke my ire like entitlement. I just cannot comprehend what goes through people’s minds that cause them to believe that the place they are in can adapt to them, as opposed to adapting to the patrons.

The night started off at Splash, oddly enough in The Brat’s section (wow, has he muted himself) . I plopped myself down and ordered myself a Corona. Well, at that moment a guy—who I’ll call The Grabber—sat down next to me. The Grabber told me that he had only recently moved to New York from LA, because he missed the street life and interaction. I fully agree, that is one of the things that I love about urban life. Amidst several, very flattering statements about my attractiveness, he proceeded to grab my shoulders, neck, back, and even my scalp to "massage" them.

Now, I have had massages before, but none were quite as "firm" as his. If a "massage" was supposed to involve the Vulcan Death Grip, it is news to me. This man attacked my corpus as if it was the last food on Earth and he was starving. A wise man would tell him to ease up, but I've always operated differently. The way I show someone that they are barking up the wrong tree is that I show that I am unaffected by whatever they are doing. That way--I reckon--the transgressor learns and I can get relief without embarassing either of us.

Unfortunately, The Grabber didn't pick this up. So at this moment, I've got a bruised shoulder, back, and oblique muscles from his "massage." Even now they feel very raw and tender.

Still, I don't lay all the blame at The Grabber, but instead at myself. Inside of me, I still see the chunky teenager who believes that any attention is good attention, despite the fact that the present me, really just wants to have his drinks, listen to others, and stay an observer.

In all honesty, the whole time that The Grabber was brutalising my body, I was strictly focused on a bartender in another section: Mr. Glasses. I have tried for years to ascertain what my "type" is, and Mr. Glasses comes extremely close to it. He wears rimmed glasses and has a (likely steroided--this is Splash) physique which combined with the glasses just makes me weak-in-the knees. I'm almost embarassed since nine times out of ten, I need to have a sense of personality before launching into lust mode, but Mr. Glasses does it to me and I have yet to exchange any words with him at all.

I think I'm probably too scared to do so. See, that's the funny thing about lust objects: You find yourself wanting to get closer and closer to them, but when the time to talk to them comes about, you lose all sense. In short, I'm too chicken to actually sit in his section. I know that I could not at all register on his radar (why would I?) beyond the patron/bartender dynamic, but still I can't help myself from wanting to at least catch a glimpse. At least dreaming about him gives me a modicum of euphoria, that is probably better than any real interaction. (A dream coming true always has a way of becoming a letdown, such is the power of the human lust.)

After a slightly cunning escape from The Grabber (involving the fact that Splash only serves Mike's Lemonade downstairs), I made my way over to The View.

Well, The View was quite more crowded than I reckoned it would be. (Damn you, Roxy, for being shut this weekend.) It was jammed pack full of that combination that drives me up a wall: eunuch gays and their fag hags. Even worse, it also had the several examples of the people I try to avoid: fag hags in search of a fag for the night.

Remember how I mentioned "entitlement" at the top? Well, this is where it comes into play: Now I fully understand that many times you just want to be out with your girls and be left alone by any lecherous straight males. Fair point and I totally believe in that. It crosses the line, however; when you try to drag me into it, because you feel: A) uncomfortable (welcome to the world of being gay in a straight world), B) deluded to the point that you think engaging me into your car-crash of a self-absorbed life is a sign of being magnamious.

Note: It isn't.

Seriously, at a gay bar, sometimes I just want to look at scenery and imagine. Sometimes, I just want to listen to the videos. At no time do I want to play happy eunuch to you and your girlfriend, while you coo over the bartender that you have deemed your "best friend," after knowing him for 10 minutes.

Another note: not all gay men know each other. Just because I'm near the bartender and standing (primarily because you went and took a seat before I could), does not that mean I know him. I'd hate to shatter the comfortable worldview you have, but let's be honest here--apart from drag queens, very few GWMs in their 20s know GBMs and vice versa. It's not right, but that's the way things are in this country. I hope--nay, I pray--that things will change before I die, but that's the ugly truth. So no, I do not know the bartender that you are cooing over, I just want to have my Twisted Tea, and since I'm flying solo and this is the sole spot (not seat, but spot) where I can have it, I'm having it right here.

After debunking that the secret gay fraternity doesn't exist, the two upseaking women proceed to tell me that they are lawyers and my age. Like I care. I'm much more interested in the video that's playing than anything they have to say. They don't care, since apparently they are the queens of the night, and I should feel humbled in their presence. They ask me my name. I tell them "Hikaru."

"Wow, that's so cool. Are you Japanese?"

"No, I'm not. I just have a Japanese name."

"That's so cool. I want my children to have Japanese names, even though I'm not."

What am I supposed to do? Wave a banner and say "that's great?"

A welcomed lull in the conversation leads them to point out that the "fat" bartender (as opposed to the twink in our section) doesn't seem to jive with that environment, even though one of the women states that she dates "fat guys."

Now was that called for? Isn't she Mother Theresa?

I tell them that if it wasn't for a "fat guy" (aka my father), I wouldn't exist.

"Oh, yeah, that's like so true."

All I can say is thank god for my bladder being full at that time. After I relieved it, I finished my 2nd Twisted Tea and got the hell out of Dodge.

Lo these many years later, people still have trouble reading others.

Colour Me Befuddled

Very interesting editiorial in today's Journal Sentinel. Apparently, bigots (especially ones in their thirties and forties) will vote bigotry in Wisconsin and then make sane choices when it comes to representation.

At least Sensenbrenner isn't as cocky this time around.

Personally, I just want to know how Arizona defeated the marriage ban, but Wisconsin didn't.

The Election 2006 Post-Mortem

Well, hasn't this been an interesting evening?

From a national perspective, it certainly seems that the majority of Americans believe that we are headed in the wrong direction, and it's now our duty to correct it. (And by the way, YAY Bernie Sanders, finally a Socialist in government!)

Then, there's Wisconsin.

Doyle won over the noxious Mark Green.

Kohl won over...well, some band of idiots.

Another band of idiots put Sensenbrenner back, for reasons that I cannot fathom, but then again, he still had 3 people running against him, an amount of opposition candidates in that race the likes I have never seen.

Some idiot from DePere thought Wisconsin should reinstate the death penalty (last seen in 1853!) and apparently found another group of sociopaths to agree with him. (Honestly, I have no strong opinion on the death penalty, but if Dahmer didn't cause it to return, then it should be left that way. Fortunately, this was "advisory"--unlike another referendum--and is unlikely to pass with Doyle now re-elected.)

The former weatherman from WTMJ is barely winning his asinine bid for State Assembly.

Even with the weatherman, Sensenbrenner, and the Death Penalty, it was that first amendment result that stung the most.

I want to thank all the bigots who apparently forgot that they have unmarried heterosexual and homosexual friends and children (in a state where same-sex marriage is already illegal) and went and still passed a ban that takes away any protections for them.

That's right, no rights.

In a referendum shepherded by a divorce lawyer.

Just think about that.

Also think about the brain-drain that will leave the state because of it.

Think about the conventions, corporations, and innovators that will not even consider for one second moving to the state because of it.

Think about the fact that you voted for shotgun marriages over actual loving ones.

Think about the vision of the state of Wisconsin that you have in mind.

And realise that when all is said and done, you have consigned us to being insignificant.

You weren't voting against gays getting married. You were voting against simple human respect and decency to one another.

"Forward," indeed.

This Is My Homeland

I received my absentee ballot today and apart from the fact that there is still not a single Democrat or even non-Republican running for any of the county seats, I am presented with several very odd things.

1. The Republican running in my state assembly district is the former weatherman from Channel 4. And he's qualified, how?
2. When did the Greens become such a formidable force that they can run a full slate of candidates for statewide office? Even for the US House of Representatives!
3. Sensenbrenner must really not be that well-liked since there are 3 other candidates for his job (a Democrat, a Green, and an Independent).
4. There's a death penalty referendum. Honestly, I thought this was done and decided and over with in Wisconsin. If we didn't kill Dahmer, we're not killing anyone...at least not on purpose.
5. Ozaukee County for some bizarro reason has decided to put a referendum on the ballot that states: "Do you support the efforts of the United States and its military in waging a war on terror throughout the world, including Iraq and Afghanistan, until such time as organized terrorism is eliminated and citizens of all countries can be assured of their safety to go about their tasks of everyday life?" I dub this referendum the "pixies and unicorns referendum," because you would have to believe in them in order to actually think that any sane person would think that "organized terrorism" would ever be eliminated and that "citizens of all countries can be assured of their safety to go about their tasks of everyday life."

By the way, O wise GOP legislators of Ozaukee County, considering that the Mequon police cannot even use their Homeland Security equipment properly (and subsquently killing someone in the process), you are living in some delusional land divorced from any sort of reality to what has transpired globally in the past two years.

Then again, reality has never had much currency in Ozaukee County anyway.

Vote or Shut Up

If during the past two you have ever complained about the following:

• Traffic
• Homophobia
• Lack of employment
• Iraq
• Iran
• The President
• Smoking Bans
• Congress
• The Homeless
• Bar Closing Time
• Public Schools
• Mass Transit
• The Airlines
• Amtrak
• Healthcare
• Cost of living
• Tuition
• The MPAA/ESRB
• Music and TV Downloading
• Copyrights

...but aren't planning to vote tomorrow, I would suggest that you tape your mouth shut and restrain your fingers, because you have absolutely no moral authority to complain.

Some might say "well, it doesn't matter since Diebold (et. al.) already have the election decided." To that I say a very loud and resounding "SO FUCKING WHAT?" There are few times in our lives where we as individuals can say "this is my view of the world and this is how I feel this country should go." Take advantage of it. Discrepancies will out, believe me. Get a paper ballot if you can.

Do you not know how many people of all colours and genders died for the right for you to participate in this process? Thousands, if not millions. Nonetheless, the last midterm election saw a rate of only 40% of eligible voters participating. That is flat out disgusting and disrespectful.

The world is changing for the better, but it will not complete this change if we do not do our part at the ballot box.

Splash-The View Post-Mortem: It Does Keep You Runnin'

But what is it?

Seriously, I listened to that song several times over and I couldn't identify what "it" was that The Doobie Brothers were singing about.

Anyway, despite a runny nose and a sore throat I dragged myself over to Splash for several reasons:

1. I was not going to be out on Tuesday night, aka Election Return Night.
2. Having stayed in on the previous Tuesday night, I was anxious to go out proper.

It was a good thing that I did, since I wound up meeting my ultimate challenger.

I think everybody should at some point in their life meet someone who challenges them to defend their world view and apparently tonight was night my night.

I'll call my challenger "J." J was initially introduced to me by an acquaintance of his (one of only a hour as I would learn later), who encouraged me to go talk to him. Being of the mind that if someone honestly thinks that me talking to them is a thrill, then I should go and do it, I gladly did so. Well, that opened Pandora's Box!

It turned out that J was a Socialist and from Chicago to boot. He also shared my ability to go in deep and profound when it came to conversation. For starters, I told him that I try to keep a low profile whenever I go out, so that I can better observe and overhear people. J wasn't having it! He barraged me with a litany of questions as to "why" I tried to be non-descript, and how could I "pretend" to be non-descript when I stand out. (This was meant as a compliment...as was the fact that I am "complicated.")

Until he felt my scalp, he truly believed that I got my hair cut specifically for tonight. In all honesty, I got my hair cut on Thursday because by that time it had grown enough during the intervening month and a half.

As I unknowingly poured out my id to him, J began to draw conclusions:

1. I'm polite up to a certain point and then I chose stay because I'm stimulated.
2. I have no sense of how I appear to the outside world.
3. I'm polite, but still disingenuous.
4. I'm lying to myself when I say that no one can violate my box who I don't know well. (Well, trust in a certain aforementioned crush to come in at that second and a give me a hug and a grope during that conversation.)

What scared me the most is that J was spot on. Being true to myself and my gut, I left at that moment to go drown my sorrows in a Twisted Tea and a shot of Jagermeister at The View.

And now, all is semi-right with the world.

And another one comes out

Cross Neil Patrick Harris off of this list, he's now publicly out as well.

Sean Hayes, the pipes are calling you.

Thursday Jukebox Gives Honourable Mention

...to the runner up to the Election 2006 theme song: "Guild" by Bump of Chicken.

(Yes, that is the band's actual name, and it makes no sense to me either.)

"Guild" would've won it in a landslide, except that there's a bit of a disconnect between the lyrics and the video.



Although you could argue that a bunch of twentysomethings swaying in unison is a "job" of some sort.

Thursday Jukebox Has Election 2006 Theme Songs

The way I see it we are either Astro Boy...




Or the doomed cast of Ideon, who I must add do get reborn after being blown to smithereens.



In other words, good does triumph over all. The only setback being distracted by the present.

For Your All Saints Day Reading Pleasure

Granted since I grew up "secular non-demonational Christian" I have no idea what All Saints Day is about, but I had to think of a title to tie in with the article I wrote for AfterElton.

Enjoy.

Let's Just Mummify Children Until They Turned 18

I realise that it is difficult being a parent these days, but honestly, some people are just being way too over protective when it comes to nursery rhymes.

I heard these things growing up and I didn't turn out traumatised.

And I don't know what sort of Precious Moments life the people in Sleepy Hollow live, but they need to get over themselves pronto.

Tonight's Post-Mortem

...will be posted later at The Story The Person.

Are The Times A-Changin'

My jar nearly dropped in astonishment when I read Mike Nichols's recent editorial in The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel that points out what a lot of pro-amendment advocates forget: it's about people's lives.

Brilliant.

Sunday Jukebox Wishes It Was 1984

I like to think that we're living in a right-wing version of 1984, the book, when I'd much rather be living in 1984 the anime year.



But maybe, that's just me, since I've been known to sing "Dreamy My Love"* when drunk.

* I know it's not a slit your wrists type of ballad, but it's the exception that proves my rule.

It's Baaaaack

Just in time for Thanksgiving, The Closet is being reissued in a Platinum Edition Box Set.

Relive the wonders of:

"She said you were sleeping with her...and her husband (SLAP)"

"I'm not gonna be yuh secret anymor-ah"

"His grandson is a homosechsual"

and of course:

"I want to wake up every morning and see that black ass that belongs to me"

Noah's Arc is our Julia, and The Closet is our Mommie Dearest.

My recapping abilities are saved for Eurovision season, but I'd highly suggest that you get a group of your friends (the ones you can queen out with), some alcohol, and pop this in the DVD player.

The Splash-View Post-Mortem: Who said weirdness was limited to the 31st?

For starters, I want you to imagine the opening theme song to Galvion playing on a loop when you read this, because that's exactly what I was doing.

First, let's begin at Splash, because I did. I have come to an interesting revelation about The Cypriot. He makes sense when you are talking with someone, because I wound up chucking my observer routine tonight due to a very eager Spaniard* who engaged me in conversation downstairs. It's hard to focus on what others are saying when someone is feeling up your calves, and that's all I'm saying. The Cypriot came in to take my drink order at just the right lulls.

* I don't know what it is with Spain, Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, but apparently the locals are very intrigued by American blacks.

After the Spaniard left, I made my way upstairs where there was a HUGE backdrop with the logo for BETJ. I want you to process this for a second: a backdrop for BET's Jazz Channel was at Splash, one of the whitest bars in existence even on its "ethnic" night. (Seriously, it is, especially with this new "Ocean" theme.) Unfortunately, I never got a chance to ask what the connection was, but rest assured that for the remaining 2 drinks I had there I was trying to figure out why it was there. All I can come up with is that it is possible that BETJ was plugging Dance Diva #8907 in whatever way possible.

It certainly attracted a very...um...scenester crowd. Apart from the odd man who always dances at Splash with his herky-jerky reaching movements (if you've been, then you know who I'm referring to here), there were a few groups of Noah's Arc clones swaying to the various songs, eager to dance, but too self-conscious to actually go onto the centre of the dancefloor.

Normally, I would've taken that as a sign to do a runner to The View, but since Shequida bought me a shot (why, I do not know) , it seemed rude to do so. Plus, I am trying out those Chaser hangover pills tonight; so, I reckoned I could play with fire to some degree. Not to mention, the weirdness of seeing a group of gay white men congregate around a sign for BETJ was worth it.

Duties complete, I made it over to The View, which was relatively tranquil and playing music videos by that time. After hearing the young, kind bartender go on about his lovelife (unsolicited, I must add), I got involved--against my nature--in being the kindly ear to a man go on about the differences between '70s gay life and present and the subsequent parallels between that and modern black gay life. I get it, no need to remind me.

By time La Ryan's "Alive" came on, I knew it was time to go. Midnight or Kate Ryan, I always say.

Some House Business

If you've noticed this link to The Story The Person and wondered what it is, well, it's basically the flip side of this corner of the internet, or rather, the processed side of me which some would call emotional, but since I'm an Aquarian it's more like the Splenda version of feelings*, if you will.

*Aquarians don't feel. We analyse.

Here is going to be the home of alcohol-induced sociological observations, Anime nostalgia, Eurovision, political and cultural opinion, and other pop culture tidbits.

Over there is where the playwright comes out periodically to run amok: Character notes, writing observations, occasional diary entries, all that jazz is over there. Some truth, some fiction, and the lines between the two will be blurred at random.

Saturday Jukebox Says WTF?

Since I'm on a Tomino kick today, I looked into one of Tomino's recent shows: Overman King Gainer.

All I have to say is that artistically, I liked him better when he was all depressed and nihilistic, although I'm happy that he's better, of course. Still, look at this opening and tell me this isn't a warning to take the happy pills in moderation:



Go-go dancing robots? "Metal Full Coat?" Oh yes, makes as much sense as this.

Conversely, Lambchop singing the hits of Judy Garland doesn't seem all that far-fetched at all. In fact, it makes you say "ahhh, bless."

Space: So What?

I was watching Wanda Sykes's new comedy special recently and she said that the space programme was "welfare for really smart people, who are so smart that they are worthless." The more I think about it, her comments really reflect the sort of ambivalence that many people have today over Space in general. I have no problem admitting that I'm pretty ambivalent about it as well.

The funny thing is that a lot of my own writing style and character development was inspired in great part from Leiji Matsumoto and especially Yoshiyuki Tomino's space operas, even though I don't write anything that has a science-based theme. A few days ago, I was wactching several old anime TV opening sequences, and it is interesting to note just how the use of space has gone from something that inspired awe and whimsy in the 1980's to being rather anonymous in the present day.

Note the way that it's presented in the opening for Bismark.



And several years later in the 2nd opening for Zeta Gundam.




Compare those with these two opening sequences from Gundam Seed & and its sequel Gundam Seed Destiny (2002 & 2004, respectively):





Who'd ever think that anime sci-fi would start turning inward?

Another Reason to Vote

Stories are being lost courtesy of congress cutting money.

Watch to find out more, and visit SaveDeafTheatre.

And now who?

T.R. Knight is now out, and perhaps the time is coming that a line is being drawn in the sand where people realise that to play along with the closeting and bearding is basically claiming that being gay is something to be ashamed of.

So who is next?

Jorja Fox?

George Eads?

Eric Szymanda?

Wanda Sykes?

Neil Patrick Harris?

Only time and character will tell.

Observations from the Elliptical Trainer

• Now that WNBC has moved Megan Mullally's show up against The View, the 11-12noon hour is probably the gayest hour on broadcast television. This is a very good thing.
• Today probably had the most segments with gay sensibility as well with Megan hosting Eric Mabius (Ugly Betty, The L Word) , Mario Vazquez, and Shelley Morrison (Rosario from Will & Grace), and The View hosting Julian Macmahon and Ruben Studdard.
• As much as everyone talks about Ruben's weight loss, something is still awry because he shouldn't be sweating like he's in the desert before he starts singing.
• Why did Julian wear that cap? It made him look like he was in the throes of a midlife crisis.
• Who were those two dancing bimbos that Mario Vazquez had onstage with him? They had no rhythm. (And I should know about that, since I have none myself.)
• The View & Megan Mullally were being aired on neighbouring televisions, so it looked like Eric Mabius were a gay couple being interviewed by 3 hosts talking in tandem.

Does This Seem A Bit Misguided To You As Well?

I'm not saying that this is in poor taste, because it isn't...but at the same time, I just don't think that a gay news website should run an AP story about stripping marines and not add a comment about "Don't Ask Don't Tell."

Friday Jukebox Says You Will Respect Anna Oxa

Attention wannabe ballad singers: Until you can give a performance like this, you will never be taken seriously...at least by me.




Because Anna has been at it since 1978, and only improving.

When Bad Theatre Happens Nearby

Every single cliche about gay theatre wrapped in a shoddy knockoff of The Dying Gaul.

I'm just sayin'

Umm...Okay

Well, I haven't heard it on either VH1 or MTV, nor have I seen it in Splash, nor heard it on KTU, but according to ESCToday, Helena Paparizou is #11 on Billboard's Dance & Regular charts with "My Number One."

I know things move slow in this country, but a song from Spring 2005 only just hitting the charts in Fall 2006? Something's fishy.

It's Just You & Me, Clive

The revival of A Chorus Line has now premiered and based on the reviews I've seen so far, Clive Barnes of The Post and myself saw one show and Gus Solomons Jr. of The Gay City News saw some other revival of A Chorus Line which seemed to be appearing simultaneously at the same theatre.

Funny that.

Update: Guess who also sides with us? Ben Brantley of The Times. (Link may require registration)

It Makes You Wonder

Ever wonder why Wisconsin is a swing state?

By the way, my home district is #5, home of the idiot Sensenbrenner.

Thursday Jukebox Praises Donna Summer

I remember listening to "This Time I Know It's For Real" and wishing that I was in my twenties and going to big city nightclubs.

Oh well, it's always 1989 in my mind.



And the video version

Good Day New York: Good Morning Queens

Subversive or not, I am calling Good Day New York the gayest morning show on local television. Everyone on it is basically a queen, regardless of sexual orientation: There is Uber Queen, Jodi Applegate, who rules the roost and let's everyone know it; then there's Junior Queen, Ron Corning, who would be as powerful as Applegate if was there as long as she was; Weather Queen, Mike Woods does his best Al Roker-meets-Shemar Moore imitation ("oh gosh, li'l ol' me? I'm not trying to be a sex symbol); then there's Traffic Queen Stacy-Ann Gooden, who must have a huge legion of fans since I can't see how she gets into the promos when Lucy Noland doesn't; and finally there is News/Single Parent Queen Lucy Noland, who eerily resembles Ann Curry (even down to ethnicity) and often is the only person to mention that they have a life outside of the studio...in her case, it comes down to her being single with a bad dating pool.

Then there are two princesses: Anne Craig, who always seemed awkward doing hard news and then was put on the cute beat ("Anne About Town"), fortunately; and Mark Joyella, who actually was quite good on hard news, but transitioned pretty well to the Dave Price (read: jester) slot, since you know Mike Woods was never ever in a million years allow himself to act foolish oncamera. Interestingly, Joyella is the only man of unknown sexual orientation on this show, however, this show is so fused with a gay sensibility that he winds up coming off sexually ambiguous as a result. (This is a good thing in my book. I think we need more shows with a gay sensibility.)

Good Day New York follows the established format of virtually all morning shows: news, weather, traffic, infotainment, and repeat. What it excels in, however; is in personality--way more than CW11's Morning News or even Today. The anchors are extremely casual. Normally this is the kiss of death in news, but in morning news, this is an asset. As I type this, Applegate & Corning are doing the financial report with a man from Fox Business News and it sounds more like a watercooler conversation than a cut and dry business report.

This is followed by Anne Craig at the inventors' convention that was profiled on Today a few days ago. Being local as opposed to national news, Muhammad has to go to the mountain here (I am relishing using that expression to describe a Fox show), and Craig is at the Javits Center, cavorting along with the president of Wired Media. I don't know how she does it, but I could never get even close to her degree of perkiness at 7:40 in the morning. I couldn't be that upbeat at noon.

Mike Woods does the weather every ten minutes on Good Day New York, and I think I should probably explain why I aim for Mike Woods everytime I refer to this show on this piece of the internet. Quite frankly, I don't buy his schtick. He just comes across as very phony to me and I just want to see him make a misstep and admit that he's human like the rest of us. It's a bit incongruous with the rest of the show, and I wish he'd just get over himself. In addition, it is pretty much apparent that he or his handlers are trying to shape him as another weatherman fame whore, and I hate that trend. (Oddly enough, it never bothered me that Jillian Barberie does the same thing on Good Day LA, but is the weather in LA all that different from day-to-day? I think not.)

I think of the Good Day shows as being the example of how a morning news show should be: personality driven, but not a cult of personality--which is why I don't particularly think the station is being wise in hyping Jodi Applegate every ten seconds. I first got used to watching them when I lived in Burbank for four months and found Good Day LA vastly more interesting than anything else on television. Coincidentally, 2/3s of Good Day LA's anchor team comes from New York and the show could best be described as a shouting match. Conversely, the New York version is much more measured and laid back, I have always wondered why Fox never does an anchor exchange between the two for a week. It seems like a very good idea for a ratings stunt.

(Personally, I've always thought that the Milwaukee Fox affiliate should revamp their show under the Good Day format, since I think Milwaukeeans are much more earthier than Wake Up would suggest.)

Since this is a Fox show on a channel in a city served by the New York Post, it is rather interesting that a pro-Republican bias rarely comes up. I'm certainly not saying that it is never there, however. Earlier this morning, Applegate & Corning talked to Chris Wallace and did all they could to make him appear like a bruised David against Clinton's Goliath as opposed to actually asking him if Clinton's truthful allegation about Wallace doing a "conservative attack" on him was valid. Then again, that is not their place as members of sister networks, nor do have they established themselves as probing journalists. (I don't even think WNYW's tough-as-nails star anchor Rosanna Scotto would have the guts to ask Wallace that question.)

Getting back to the show's gay sensibility, I'm reminded of an incident that happened a few weeks ago when the picture of John Travolta kissing another man on the lips was making the rounds. Applegate commented that it was an interesting revelation, as did Gooden and Noland, who were eager to find out if it was evidence that Travolta is gay. What was interesting for me was the reaction of the show's two resident gay men: Corning could not bring himself to give an opinion whatsoever, meanwhile Woods brushed it off by saying that it "means nothing, [I] see men do that all the time." Men may kiss each other on the cheek all the time, Mike, but on the lips? I think not. The comment didn't boost his butch quotient as he might've hoped, but just made him seem rather, um, idiotic.

And of course, as I'm writing this, "Mamma Mia" is playing and both Applegate & Corning refer to themselves as "huge ABBA fans." This is to introduce a segment on mother/daughter rivalry. To their credit, the producers do not let Applegate fly solo on this segment. In fact, as a longtime viewer, I'd like to tell the producers to never let Applegate go solo, because she has a tendency to overwhelm the interviewee. I generally like Applegate, but she can be overbearing, as evidenced by the period over the Summer post-Chris Gailus. *

* This show really is a different animal with Ron Corning than it was with Gailus. Gailus served as the show's straight man (in more ways than one) and his awkwardness and geekiness became a pun onto itself. Corning, however, gives as good as he gets, and he gets a lot.

Now it is time for "Mark [Joyella]'s Mission." A daily scavenger hunt that they send Joyella on, thus proving himself to be the show's keen jester. It also makes him look a bit like Carson Kressley ("oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!") on the sidelines of the Super Bowl, if you know what I mean. Today's "mission" was to see if Mark could get people in a diner to do the wave. Of course, he does, but some of these "missions" are hard, such as trying to coerce people at Penn Station to do The Hustle in front of a TV camera.

Every Friday, the show becomes self-referential, and shockingly succeeds at it, with a segment entitled "Fox Soup," where they recap the bizarre and comical antics the Queens & Princesses have been tossed into from Monday to Thursday. Joyella recaps these goings on with a very heavy and pleasing degree of laconic sarcasm that you never see on The Daily Show, much less a news show. This week's tidbits: how many food cliches can Mark make versus Ernie Anastos, Corning & Dr. Keith Ablow talk about "teasing polygamy," dogs in a carrier bag ("if you don't want to carry your dog in a bag, we have something called a leash" says Mark), and Mike Woods screwing up Applegate's and Corning's first names ("Rodi & Jeff," Woods said, leading Joyella to hold up a picture of Applegate stating--with a comical sneer--"this is a Jodi").

And that was Good Day New York. After the week I've had watching other morning shows ranging from the superficial to banal to downright abysmal, I think I'll keep the Good Day New York/Today mixture I've been taking.

The CW11 Morning News: If Robots Did The News

In general, I have a preference for a local news show over a national one. I tend to find the local news shows full of more personality and quirks instead of shine and gloss. You would generally think that a show in New York would be personality amplified.

And for the most part you would be right, except for this one.

For starters, maybe it's me, but it is a bit bizarre that the Morning News seems to have a virtually all-female anchor team, the only male being co-anchor John Muller who looks like an android version of Richard Carpenter. Male or female, neither of them could muster a smile beyond a grin or get their voice slightly above monotone. Even the entertainment reporter, Emily Frances, sounded like she would rather be somewhere else...which is the kiss of death in entertainment news.

What I find interesting is that no one has any chemistry with each other. Now, I'm not saying that the have to be a "morning zoo" type of show with comedy galore, but this is a group of people who don't even seem like they want to be there. Even the people on the abysmal Wake Up Milwaukee act like they like each other.

Morning News gets some injection of life when Dr. Steve (late of WNYW) comes on to talk about health, and boy does that say something if medical news is more interesting than anything else.

Morning News is so dull that they provide a rundown on the station's website of what they will be talking about and when they will do it. The menu today does not bode well for me: Tracey Ullman, a preview of Open Season, and The Doodlebops--a children's group that tortured me on Today sometime ago.

I may very well have to break my vow and cut this short after one hour. I can easily envision that two hours of this would put me in a foul mood for the remainder of the day.

The more I look at this show, I start thinking what does this show remind me of. It doesn't sound nor look like a New York morning show, in fact dare I say it, this is like KTLA, the Los Angeles CW affiliate that seems to suffer from the same monotony, but is undeniably Los Angeles. This is LA television in New York, with no personality.

Some minor interest comes from meterologist Linda Church's malfunctioning computer--which she threatens to burn, but she decides to stall for time by relating inane weather facts. (Mike Woods does not even do that.)

Again, I'm reminded that this is the first (read: showcase) hour, when everyone supposedly has their A-game. Emily Frances's A-game is apparently a clip show of the characters from Open Season. Oy.

Julie Chang comes on with her "Truly Julie" segment. Today's segment is about kid inventors. I cannot begin to tell you how boring this show is. It even makes me wish for the horrifying NYC TV shows on WNBC every late morning.

At this point, I am now 6 minutes away from changing over to The Early Show. (Yes, I said it: The Early Show seems more promising than this.) The final nail in the coffin is a teaser about Star Trek memorabilia.

On deck: Good Day New York or Good Morning, Upper Eastside Queens

La Pirro Is La Tylo

La Pirro says she was under federal investigation for trying to wiretap her husband to see if he was having an affair.

And guess who's involved? Bernard Kerik.

Now has anybody ever seen Jeanine Pirro & Hunter Tylo in the same room together, because this is straight out of a subplot from The Bold & The Beautiful.

Today: I Hope Somebody Is Pickpocketing Those Tourists

A disclaimer: I was having a very nice dream about myself and a handsome flight attendant flirting over duty free on a UTA flight from Milwaukee to New York, when I was woken up to watch this. Needless to say, Matt Lauer & Co. cannot compare to the charms of a bespectacled 33 year old frenchman with a buzzcut and 45" chest bursting out of his uniform.

Although I have watched it for as long as I can remember, The Today Show has worked my nerves ever since they got that cockamamie idea of having a crowd right outside the studio. I don't get the appeal whatsoever. If someone showed up on the streets of Rockefeller Center with a sign saying "Hello Hikaru," then I would kindly inform them that if they feel the need to say "hi" publicly, they should call me on a speakerphone.

Anyway, Today, rightly or wrongly is considered the gold standard of morning television. I can see how, it combines the celebrity factor of GMA with the probing of The Early Show, and--as Tom Cruise and Anne Coulter can attest to--Matt Lauer is not afraid to go there. However, they still have that daft crowd lingering in the background.

Much has been said in recent days about the new set of Today--the one that they were working on all summer. Well, it looks like any cut-and-dry snooty lounge (think Therapy, but all in orange and blue) I've been to. All that is missing is a DJ looking hipper-than-thou in the background and servers trying desperately to not to drop drinks on the pretentious clientele.

The other new addition to Today, of course, is Meredith Vieira. She is not Katie Couric. That is not a slight, nor is it effusive praise. I'm just saying that she is not Katie Couric. She is, however, very genial and far from wanting to steamroll her personality onto the audience. She's also very aware of the fact that the show is now all in HD (because believe you me, Rob Morrison has forgotten that WNBC is now all doing all their news in HD as well).

Now that I've just praised Today, I now come to dump on it. For starters, Natalie Morales. What is her purpose on days when Ann Curry is there? She just sort of sits there and smiles, waiting for someone to switch her off. Then there's Al Roker, who really should learn that all we need to know is the weather and not try to build his own cult of personality. (Although, I will say that only Al Roker could interview Star Jones and nonverbally communicate to the audience at home that nobody was buying what she was selling.)

Then there's the cutesy aspect of the show. This isn't so much something that the anchors say, but rather what the director chooses to show. There will always be certain shots you can count on seeing during any episode of Today: at some point, some child will be hoisted into the air by their parents--clearly oblivious to the fact that the child does not want to be front and centre; Matt Lauer & Meredith Vieira will try to do a promo for a very serious story while Pat & Harvey from Boise go "I'm on tv! I'm in New York City!" in the background; and they will cut to Al Roker too early surprising him.

Unfortunately, Today is in one of their "Let's Throw A Heterosexuals-Only Wedding" multiweek parties. On the plus side, Meredith doesn't slop sugar as much as Katie Couric did, but god almighty, I do hate these segments. Homophobic exclusion aside, I can't stand these. It's 8:20 in the morning and the last thing I want to see is people grinning from ear to ear and shitting sunshine, to be blunt. Luckily, the WNBC news break comes just in time to rescue me.

Today during it's 3 hour run goes through peaks and valleys. The first half hour starts strong, then it gets into a minor valley in the second, the third half-hour goes down somewhat, then it hits close to rock bottom in the fourth half-hour, it redeems itself somewhat in the fifth, and then just comes crashing to the ground at the end. Understandably, this means that I am not looking forward to the 8:30-9 half-hour. Today's one is a classic: cooking meals you will never eat as well as warnings that women are wasting their money...and no one gets the irony.

I have never understood why they have cooking segments on television. Not once have I ever been inspired to cook a recipe seen on television, nor have I eaten something that someone prepared after seeing it on television. Maybe some people do, but I have never come across them. Today, Matt Lauer is aiding/leering at Nigella Lawson, a woman whose breasts threaten to become part of the recipe itself. They are ostensibly making spaghetti and other "comfort foods," but all they are really doing is making me nauseous. Once upon a time, I was able to eat breakfast, but then I started watching Today, and my ability to have solid food in the morning disappeared.

Then it's Jean Chatzky's segment. She seems to be on this show every single day, and somehow manages to write a book. Every single time she is on this show, she has one message: "Ladies, you're spending too much!" Why are women singled out, Jean? And, um, if you're telling us that we're spending too much, then why do we have to buy your book to learn how to be frugal? Just put it up on a free website. Somehow, I suspect that Jean herself is deep in credit card debt and is trying to climb out of it by telling people that they're spending too much. It screams pyramid scheme to me. I don't buy into her argument that women need more money than men because they live longer. I can't wrap my head around the fact that since I'll live a statistically shorter life than my female cousin, I can go and spend money like there is no tomorrow. Not buying it--in both senses of the phrase.

Gene Shallit closes out the half-hour with his review of Everyone's Hero. The only interesting thing about Gene's reviews is that you can wonder why that man decides to show himself in public looking like he spent his life sticking his fingers into electric sockets. Otherwise, it's rave, rave, rave unless it's Brokeback Mountain, or a film that might be perceived as just tiniest bit challenging.

(Joe Avellar for some reason is doing the local news break at 8:55. If someone would explain to me why I find him very sexy, despite the fact that he's extremely avuncular, I would appreciate it.)

The fifth half-hour opens with Matt & Al (Meredith can't appear in the third hour, due to her contract with Disney) discussing why Eighties fashion is returning. If that sounds like a recipe for uncomfortable television to you, then you'd be quite correct. Even though Natalie Morales--who is no Ann Curry (and that is a slam against Morales)-- gives a competent news digest, the show takes a nose dive into inanity by having Al Roker talking to the new Ivory Soap family. I don't care. I also don't care about Natalie Morales and some woman from eBay (!) trying to convince us of why overpriced Eighties knockoffs are chic. Third hour, I now dub thee "the hour of blatant shilling," because all I see here so far are people working for their kickbacks.

Al Roker then stumbles his way through a report about getting your vitamins from fruit. Some genius decides to play the NBC News Special Report music to open it, and gives me an unnecessary scare. There are few sounds that can shock to me to the core, a Special Report theme is one of them since you know it never is going to be good news. (The other one is the old Emergency Broadcasting System siren. Thank god, that has been replaced on most channels with something much more melodic.I always suspected that those things were causing heart attacks and epileptic fits.) Anyway, why is this a report? Do some people really not know that you get calcium from milk? And again, who told Al Roker that he should do more than just the weather? Not everyone who watches the third hour of Today is stupid.

Coming up on the final half-hour: Tony Bennett & Michael Buble'. The ad with Teri Hatcher swinging her hair about was more interesting than the prospect of hearing and seeing those two perform. I hate crooning, just so you know.

The final half-hour opens with this android they have been yammering about all morning long. I truly believe that these people are genuinely threatened by it, judging by the amount of nervous jokes they have been making about a relatively lifelike android. Then Al & Natalie--because Today is basically 12 Little Indians with anchors disappearing over its 3 hours--prattle on about nothing at all. Seriously, I was listening closely and I can't recall a single sodding thing that they said, and I have captioning on.

The android is apparently part of some invention shindig that GE is co-sponsoring. The show's resident technology guru (read: geek complete with glasses, but he wears jeans so he's "hip") goes through umpteen different inventions while Al Roker makes a fool out of himself. I feel like I'm watching a car crash.

Oh lord, it's "American Story" today, Today's mawkish attempt to replicate Charles Kuralt's folksy travelogues with Bob Dotson as Il Kuralt. Dotson is no Kuralt, no matter how hard he tries. Today, he's featuring a bunch of middle-aged (and that's being generous, because these men look geriatric zombies) men who have restarted their garage band. All I can say is that if I was related to them, I'd change my name and burn my family tree down.

Bennett & Buble' next, and I feel a bit puzzled by why Tony Bennett is on again less than week after appearing on Today to promote yet another duets album. Who's buying these albums, and can we possibly incapacitate them? It seems that every singer off the hit parade these days is doing a duet album, and the fact of the matter is that they all sound and look like desperate attempts to maintain some type of relevance.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there and the whole segment is blissfully free of any audience reaction shots, so I gather I should be grateful for little mercies.

Thus ends 3 hours of Today, still the best national show, but flawed as hell. I still hope that somebody is pickpocketing those tourists.

(Mysteriously, Rob Morrison returns to do the final local news break. What the devil is going on at Rockefeller Center?)

On deck: The CW11 Morning News or Hair! or "Probably The Most Mind-Numbing Two Hours in My Whole Life (and I've seen The Early Show)"

The Early Show: Who Are You (I Really Wanna Know)

For starters, I will admit that The Early Show is coming in with pretty much a serious bias against it, and it's no real fault of theirs. On Tuesdays, I tend to be pretty groggy first thing and it takes me awhile to get alert. So basically, I'm staring at the television thinking "who are you people and what are you talking about?" It also doesn't help that I don't have the time to sit through the full two hours this Tuesday.

Nonetheless, this show moves quickly, within the first 14 minutes, Harry Smith (who apart from Julie Chen and "weatherman" Dave Price is the only person on screen who I knew) covered about 3 stories with relative depth, joked around Dave Price, and then introduced a story about the New Orleans Saints returning to The Superdome. I haven't even had my morning cigarette yet.

The Early Show seems to have the same wagging-finger-"Back in my day, they didn't do that" tone that parts of Sunday Morning have. Appropriately, they give these stories to Harry Smith, who used to host that bastion of wagging-finger television: A&E's Biography. Meanwhile the female co-anchors: Julie Chen, Hannah Storm, and Rene Styler smile in the background, and Dave Price mugs like Al Roker.

I've always noticed that CBS News shows for some reason have this gauze fliter over them that makes everything look very...um...hazy. I don't know why CBS News does this, but I've noticed it on every single CBS News programme I've seen on several different stations. It's like looking at television from the womb. I guess wagging-finger television wants to make everything look as cozy as possible to its viewers.

What surprises me is that I remember when this show started they were trying to make CBS's morning show more appealing to a wider spectrum (that's why they hired Bryant Gumbel). Well, you can do as many tie-ins to CBS & CW programming and talk about current pop stars, but the show just seems so "blah" like Metamucil.

Interestingly, the format of The Early Show is rather freeform, there is no set time for a news digest--in fact, I don't think there is no real news digest on this show. Dave Price is thrown in randomly just to liven up the preceedings. If there is any pattern or format that emerges it's this: Harry Smith: Be Scared; Julie Chen: Celebrity talk; Hannah Storm: Sports or "isn't that cool?;" Rene Styler: Lifestyle segments. They may try to switch them all around on occasion, but even if Harry Smith is talking about a dog on surfboard, my gut reaction is telling me to be scared, and I could not possibly take Julie Chen talking about a nuclear arms proliferation with any degree of sincerity.

Next on the "let's scare you first thing in the morning" theme: A rash of armed robberies in LA restaurants. I haven't even had my protein shake yet and you're already trying to keep me from leaving home. This is followed by a story about doctors not telling patients all they need to about their prescriptions. Oh joy! I can't leave home and I can't trust my doctor to tell me the truth about the anti-anxiety medication I'd need in order to leave the home.

All of this wouldn't be a problem, if the show wasn't so damn sober. They may put a harmonica on the bumpers, and use a very light conversational voice in talking about subjects, but you just get the sense that they are dying to pull the rug out from under you. It's like "isn't Jessica Simpson crazy? Now, let's talking about impending world war." As baffling as Good Morning America was to me, at least they eased you into the downer subjects. Would Walter Kronkite approve?

And the big stories of the second hour? Dogs who swim and Dave Price's trip to Vancouver to hang/mug around backstage with John Mayer.

Come back Bryant, all is forgiven. This show needs someone with a caustic sense of humour.

On deck: Today or "3 Hours at The Rockefeller Center Bar, Lounge, and Tourist Office"

Good Morning America: What Have You Done To Deserve This?

Perhaps I really have been watching too much Good Day New York, because it makes total sense that all the on-camera people on Good Morning America are rather detached and not firing on a million cylinders. In fact, the only person I could describe as perky is Sam Champion--who really does belong there more than the evening local news. (Not because he's that great per se, it's more that he is really upbeat.)

Diane Sawyer is undeniably the ruler of this roost, and I always wonder if on some level she's thinking "What Have I Done To Deserve This?" She's very poised, clipped, and relatively serious--albeit without coming across as above it all. It's just that it strikes me as odd that someone who has done many high-profile, indepth interviews is giving her comments on surfers over the tune from Hawaii 5-0.

Then there's Robin Roberts, who today is in New Orleans to celebrate the return of the Saints. I'm a bit hesitant to judge her since she's outside of her normal position as co-anchor, but she just seems like a total non-entity. Apparently the fact that she's from the Gulf Coast is the only real remarkable aspect about her.

Taking, I guess, the "Ann Curry" role is Chris Cuomo, of that Cuomo political family which you are thinking about. Granted, he's very good-looking, but this man just looks like a deer caught in the headlights. I don't know if it's the fact that HD makes his blue eyes very blue, but I can't help but wonder if he's running around offcamera thinking "where's my copy? where's my copy?"

Finally there's Sam Champion. I don't know what to really make out of Sam Champion. I've always thought that he was a LA weatherman who took a wrong turn and wound up in New York. He's too waxed, buffed, sunshine for New York local television. (Or for CNN for that matter.) He is, however; perfect for morning television on a national level. He's like Al Roker without the excessive jollyness. You just get the impression that Sam is like "yeah, whatever, get me a soy burger" when the camera is off.

I grew up in a Today household, so the few times I watched Good Morning America were during the Charlie (now Charles) Gibson-Joan Lunden era. My impression of it at that time was that it was extremely saccharine and low on substance. Of course, since it was run by ABC Entertainment at the time, that sort of mood made sense. Well, it's undeniably run by ABC News now because it is serious, serious, serious. This is not a bad thing, as I said above. See, at 7 in the morning, I am not upbeat and I do not want people to force me to be upbeat. I just want information and that's just what they seem to do--at least during the first hour.

Come 8, Diane's pageant show background kicks in. She starts slopping the sugar left, right, and centre. It's kind of unsettling for me. Oddly enough, Chris Cuomo starts getting more serious (even Ann Curry starts giving the news in a more relaxed tone during the 2nd hour and she's got another hour after that). The man even delivers a story about a Target being held up--over an Elmo doll--with the gravitas normally applied for world summits. He still looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

If there is a segment that seemed to define the second hour of GMA, it would be the next segment where Diane interviewed Oprah Winfrey and her friend Gayle King. Major media figures talking to each other as if it's a coffee klatsch. I will cut them some minor slack since the second hour of any morning show is frothy, but this is just weird. Diane Sawyer is interviewing Oprah Winfrey and there are thousands of probing questions to be asked, but they aren't. Now, it's likely that Oprah wouldn't answer them, but again, just on a symbolic level: Diane Sawyer, Oprah Winfrey; this shouldn't be a disposable interview.

This is followed up by Robin Roberts interviewing The Edge & Billy Joe Armstrong about a charity in New Orleans that helps give musicians their lost instruments. Probing, this is not. Informative? Maybe. By the way, Robin Roberts is still a non-entity, strange since her background is in sports where personality is everything.

I'm starting to wonder why GMA is coming across as less grating than Today, and finally it dawned upon me, they aren't constantly cutting away to the tourist audience with thousands of daft signs for "Granma," nor are they omnipresent in every single segment as they are in Today. Thank god for that. Peculiarly, the show seems to run shorter than its NBC rival. The 8-8:25 segment consisted of a very quick news segment, Diane talks to Oprah & Gayle, and Robin's interview. Next thing I know, Lori Stokes is doing local news. (By the way, Lori Stokes should have Robin Roberts job.)

The last half-hour begins with another possible probing interview that will likely fall into the coffee foam: Marcia Cross. You know you want that question to be asked. I know I do, but if Oprah didn't get challenged, you know they won't play hardball with an ABC celebrity on a top-rated show. Interestingly after Chris Cuomo's stunned delivery of the news (news at 8:30? I like you people), they cut to Sam Champion talking about a blood drive, which he can't participate in. Nor can I, nor can most people that I know. This is an exaggeration, but I get the impression that this is like Larry Kramer talking to Anita Bryant about Florida orange juice.

So Diane talks to Marcia Cross and manages to play along without giving away the subtext of this interview, which is "let's not admit that we know a fair amount of closeting is going on." What they do talk about is the logistics of Cross's pregnancy and Desperate Housewives this season, and again, it's a coffee klatsch. It's rather funny for me to see all these bigger name celebrities getting these softball interviews by people who should know better (well, person who should know better, because I have not seen Robin Roberts at work before GMA).

Chris Cuomo is given a rather appropriate interview for someone of a prominent family: Bill Moyers's son talking about his drug addiction. Cuomo sounds engaged in the interview, but he looks like he's thinking "fluffy pink clouds, gum drops, Brooks Brothers suits." Depressingly, he's more probing than anything we've seen Diane do this morning, but I wonder if that has more to do with Diane being hamstrung by a dictum not to irritate the celebrities. I don't think the producers would give a toss if Bill Moyers's son was pissed off.

The feminist in me rather likes the dynamic of the show, where men are relegated to second string work while the women are given high-profile, albeit puffy pieces. (I was rather shocked that Diane let Bill O'Reilly off so easily during the first hour.)

What does GMA boil down to for me? Big names, little depth. On one hand, the show seems to be mercifully free of the asinine cooking and fashion segments which are the staple of Today and Good Day New York, but it also has so many opportunities to go in deeper with the subjects they interview and they drop the ball.

Memo to the producers: You can be vicious in the morning.

On deck: The Early Show, or "Who Are You People from Channel Z?"

CBS Sunday Morning: No, You Won't See Me On the Radio

For the next few days, I'm going to try to vary up my morning television habits by watching things that I don't normally watch.

However, you can't really do a comparison unless you also describe your normal habits, in my case that is CBS Sunday Morning, Good Day New York, and the last hour of Today.

Today, the fangs turn towards that venerable arts/news/whatever magazine Sunday Morning.

First, I just have to say that this show would be perfectly fine if they could just get rid of Charles Osgood. I barely remember Charles Kuralt, so it's not a case of Dennis Farina on Law & Order here. To be blunt, the man is horrible. He looks and sounds like a Southern school headmaster c. 1926 and these damn aphrorisms that he pulls out of nowhere work my nerves. (Somehow, I suspect that he is two seconds away from saying "colder than a witch's teat," and then there's his signoff: "I'll see you on the radio." What on God's Green Earth?)

I always wonder who the audience is for Sunday Morning. It seems like they are aiming for classical music lovers and PBS viewers, but the subject matter is more along the lines of hip middle aged art and music teachers. The top story this week is the cost of college. The tone of the piece was very much "I can't believe how much it costs, back in my day..." One interesting thing about Sunday Morning is that there is a certain tone and pitch to every reporter's voiceover. It's hard to describe, the closest I could call it would be "reserved and perky," like a church luncheon.

The weird thing about Sunday Morning is that it is mostly arts stories, but they are interspersed with news stories, such as today, where the college story is followed by a story about whether bin Laden is dead or not. Yet, even in the coverage of news stories such as the bin Laden mystery, the story is looked through a skewed lens, searching for the quirks. Robert Krulwich does this all the time on ABC, but this is Krulwich's style let loose on an entire programme. Hell, even Bill Geist sounds like Krulwich.

To it's credit, Sunday Morning could easily fall into intellectual snobbery, but doesn't. It's hard to be perceived as an elitist show when you have a segment that deals with a cowpie tossing contest, albeit with no seriousness attached to it whatsoever. Much of the criticism of the new Sunday Morning is that it is nothing without Kuralt's travelogues. What is forgotten is that Sunday Morning is basically the television equivalent of USA Today's "States" blurbs mixed in with profiles by correspondents, the latter which have leapt into prominence these days, since I don't think Osgood wants to go anywhere outside of the Mid-Atlantic.

This show is a strange creature: does it want to be an arts magazine? A news show? A commentary show? The whole show morphs into several skins throughout 90 minutes (60 this week, since the last half-hour was pre-empted on WCBS by marathon coverage), and never quite stays in one skin too long.

You could compare it to this week's other profiles/victims (Today, The Early Show, Good Morning America), but it's a little too smart and specific to be an easy fit in that group, which seeks to be everything to everyone. So what is Sunday Morning? It's like a gathering of refugees from some Norman Rockwell-esque town who both reminisce about a hometown that never really was what their memory tells them and also talk about the latest New Soul singer they have downloaded on their iPod. (Or to put it in visual terms, Sunday Morning is a Serbian pop song being performed by characters from an American video game. Viva La Nikolic, I say apropos of nothing.)

Damn you Osgood and your inane folksy aphorisms. ("Twenty-Oh-Six," indeed.)

On deck for tomorrow: Good Morning America, or "Just What on Earth Are You People Doing In Times Square?"

From The "Obvious" Department

Everyone seems to be shocked by the results of this survey that says of the heterosexually identified participants, 10% are had sex with men.

I reckon they didn't ask the participants--especially the gay-identified ones--who the first man they had sex with was, and how did they know them? I'd be willing to bet that a significant amount of were men, who to this very day, identify as straight while still having sex with men.

Rewriting

Rewriting is one of those things that I absolutely hate. In all honesty, I don't see the point of it.

When I write, I get very meticulous. I analyse every single word choice and stage direction to make sure that it is what I want it to say. Scripts are like a house of cards: if you don't place them the right way, then it'll all fall down soon enough. When I finish the first draft, then it's done. I like to kill characters at the end as a big sign to myself to state just how finished I am with the story.

Yet, I find myself in the process of rewriting right now.

So what does that have to do with Luther?*

*And by the way, I would not have known that there were two versions of this video, had I not just seen it this morning on VH1 Classic. That one had no split screen and focused on the white woman a bit more than this one, which focuses on the black woman more. Racial politics at work in Luther Vandross videos, who knew?

Well, Luther, in my view, is an icon of rewriting. He went from small to large to small to large (and so on and so forth). He went from "just waiting for the right woman" to "I'm not talking about it," to "everybody knows and why do we need to talk about it?" The fact of the matter is that we have to talk about it sooner or later. If we don't talk about it, then we're left with the status quo which forced us into the position that caused us to shut our mouths in the first place.

I'm not just talking about homosexuality here, but it certainly applies.

For all the attention to detail and style that I put forth in a play, making sure that every thing is in just right the place, the fact of the matter is that there always a better way to shore it up so that the story and characters stay put even when they get shook around. Likewise, you can craft a facade and relationship with the outside world that may be a lie or a partial truth, but will it withstand the test of time?

No, it won't.

So we rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite until at some point we die. Even then, we are rewritten as other's observations and memories run contrary to our own self-perceptions. The thought at first filled me dread, because don't we all want to be around to defend ourselves and our viewpoints? Then I paused for a second and really started examining the notion: If I write something, then isn't important that I be willing to return to it, if only to be able to explain it with more knowledge than I have at the moment? In addition, shouldn't we be able to take in new information and perspectives without it damaging our sense of self?

Now, this might seem to run contrary to what I said about Evangelion earlier, but I don't think so. (See, I'm rewriting!) Part of the rewriting process, in my view, is being willing to let go and say it truly has been worked on enough by me.

It Seems Oddly Appropriate

...for today that I stumbled across this tidbit of news about there being four new Evangelion movies planned.

Colour me skeptical, but hasn't everything been said in that series...at least in a plot and character sense? Not to mention, it can't be good for Anno to keep on returning to a story that is essentially charting his descent into psychosis.

Don't get me wrong, I think he's a genius (the show--in particular the homoerotically charged final episodes--inspired me as a writer more than I will ever fully know), but for that reason alone I'd be more interested in seeing him continue on with new work.

Of course, I'll still buy the dern things when they get released...which is the most likely reason as to why they're making them.

The Heartbreaker Summer continues.

Weekend Jukebox Continues The Fight

...against Disaster Porn Weekend.

This time it's a trio of videos from the excellent interval of Dora 2003, which had the group Divas singing with 4 Croatian divas.

First up, Divas & Radojka Šverko singing "Oprosti Mi." Radojka has got a killer voice, but seems to favour the Shelley Morrison as Rosario look.



Next, Divas sing with the pink-haired Josipa Lisac, the original singer of "Danas Sam Luda."



Finally, the big group song (it's worth wading through the minute long introduction) where Divas and the four Divas sing "Sexy Cool."

Friday Jukebox In Albania

My way of combatting the September 11th distaster/grief porn that will dominate the airwaves through Monday.

Apparently the 1990's are thriving in Albania



Nor the 1980's



Albania's answer to Celine Dion (I didn't even know she was a question)



And pageant hair has reached the Balkans...along with rampant screeching!



Many thanks to Sims for the videos.

Remember, Remember the Fifth of September

So there's this article on AfterElton about Gravitation written by this playwright, and it's not too shabby.

It's a good read, I reckon.

This Was Summer 2006

All the political news, pop culture events, and everything in between that occurred this summer can be summed up in this song.




Bring on autumn.