Thursday, February 28, 2008
Is it really you? Are you here already? I just don't know where the time goes- it's as if I spent the second half of February under a snowy blanket waiting for the sunny glow of your Spring teasing. Oh March! You seasonal pubescent rascal, you! With Easter (and Pulaski Day!) nestled in your warm heart amid the hope for nearing blooms, what could possibly go wrong?
MARCH ACTIVITY BREAK!
Hey kids! Here's a superfun calendar you can print out and color! You also can fill out the dates for the merry month of March! Or you can leave the days blank and have March last forever and live in the nonsensical timeless reality that is lived out by alcoholics having a perpetual St. Patrick's day. Come to think of it, the kids in this picture look a little busted- so don't forget to color the gin blossoms on little Johnny and Janie's noses!
You know what else March is great for? Hillary Clinton! I admit that I'm a very big Clinton supporter, but I really have nothing against Mr. Obama- I'm fine with him being our prez too. As long as Mr. Zombie McCain isn't in the White House, I'll be a happy camper. What is incredibly distressing, however, is the attacks I've recieved from some very vocal Obama supporters.
"MY VOTERS WILL EAT YOU!"
After posting a video of Tina Fey's endorsement of Hillary on my facebook, a friend commented "Go-bama... take this bitch out yo!". Another friend of mine repeatedly tries to rub whatever he finds disdainful about Hillary in my face, as if I was supporting the leader of a fascist party. When my good friend Megan sent in this lovely piece to the lady blog Jezebel for them to link to, she was met with a less than pleased response from one of their editors, who was a staunch Obama supporter. With the results from Tuesday in, I'm starting to fear for my life, worrying that the Obamaites vitriol will spill out into a terrible backlash. Come to think of it, the operative word of the campaign being "change" accompanied the ardent blinding love of his supporters reminds me of a zombie-like scenario...Perhaps the change he speaks of will be the slow decomposition and hunger for human flesh his fans are developing as we speak...
Run! Run for your lives!
I believe that the picture above is taken from Bruce LaBruce's upcoming queer zombie epic Otto: Or Up With Dead People, which a movie you should be SUPER FUCKING EXCITED ABOUT! If you haven't caught the hype yet, I suggest you check out the trailer below- it'll make you want to grease your nasties with animal bits...
Well, "that's all folks"...
Stay posted for upcoming blatherings on multi-national fashion week madness and deep probing of ironic gay sex parties. It's sure to be a gas...
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Elisa, while discussing her odd habit of writing backwards, put it best- runway spelled backwards is "yawnur", thus pointing out the clever diss that has been staring the disenchanted yet addicted viewers in the face over the past few unmemorable months.
Even better, however, was the disturbingly couple-like body language between Rami and Chris.
"Watch that hand, Ramiiii!"
Excuse me, but when did Rami become a chub chaser? All throughout the show his arm was lovingly draped behind Chris, he would stare with a charmed look in his eye as Chris spoke to the judges. Occasionally they would hold onto the other's knee... The interchange spiraled out of control as the show went on, inciting a gut reaction from my friend and I that could only be matched by walking in on your parents mid-hump. I half expected them to look into the camera, smile, and say, "You're welcome to our cottage on Fire Island whenever you'd like to drop by. Just let us know ahead of time so we can bake some fresh muffins for your arrival!"
I cannot really place my finger on what was cringeworthy about this overly-genial body language (maybe it's because my friend and I were stoned...although I think that merely enhanced the reaction that would have come in sobriety). Did anybody else feel the same way? Perhaps the subtle suggestion that Rami might like a few rolls on his man (please study Chris' distressing arm flab Rorschach above), upset me deeply- coming to terms with the fact that Rami wasn't the Rami I've come to know and lust for. Each knee grab was a spoiled touch, a wasted hunky gesture- sort of like watching somebody take a dump on a priceless Faberge egg. Why!?!? Why?!?!?
In other news...
Have you heard KCRW's Good Food podcast yet? They have the most delightful and informative spot at the beginning of each episode that goes over what's fresh and a must buy in LA's farmer's markets that week. Sadly, living in Chicago means I'm basically stuck with root vegetables, squash, and other hearty bores, but it's nice to learn that citrus fruits are still alive and kicking over in the West coast- today I found out that blood oranges are in their peak season right now and that their namesake not only comes from the color of their flesh, but the fact that they're in their prime around the time when we acknowledge Jesus' spilled blood during the crucifixion! Woah!
That last fun fact isn't that exciting, but hearing about distant prospering farmers markets as I try to catch my balance after slipping on some black ice on my walk to work makes my heart swell up with bittersweet jealousy- how nice it is to know that the blood oranges are fresh (and how badly do you want to punch your friends in Los Angeles...)!
Wasn't that Lunar eclipse boring? I only liked it when it was about mid-way through, and there was a light brown shading on the moon like somebody smeared poop on it. That part was super cool!
Yes, I am 10 years old...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Let's take a tv time machine back to the 80's and warm our frosty winter hearts!
Here we goooooo!
Isn't that the most charming, heart warming sight you've ever seen? I daresay it's even more affecting than the sight of one of China's endangered pandas. Ladies and gents without real valentines, I suggest you watch this video over and over again tomorrow and avoid any trite V-day self pity. That terrible trend needs to fly out the window- it's practically begging big businessness to create its own holiday (national Ben and Jerry's ice cream social day? Kleenex and Blockbuster day? What else am I gonna do, might as well get a mopey oil change at Jiffy Lube Day?).
No, we will have none of that! We will watch big bird, and fill our hearts with a joy that can only be brought on by this video and perhaps Christ's love (if you're into that sort of thing).
And did I mention that it's a mini Chinese lesson (I hope you gathered that from your viewing...Wo Ai Ni, anybody?)? God, why did I go to college when I could have just continued to watch Sesame Street after I turned 6.
THAT realization if far more sad than coming to terms with the fact that there will be no prix fixe dinners, diamonds, or fucking going on tomorrow night.
Ah, student loans! We'll be together forever....
If you are going to be humping all night tomrrow (in the event that you have Butterfish from your romantic dinner shooting out your pooper), I suggest you do a few lines, throw on this little known disco gem, and boink your shitty coupled heads off!
Ah! A sweet toe tapping disco ode to a man who can really deliver. Turn on Nightfall's superb tune, and you're bound to have a steamy night that will transport you and your lover to a paradise not seen since the Paradise Garage.
I, however, must present a fair warning... If your man can't actually keep it up and deliver (make you feel "10 feet tall", eh?), this could descend into a teribble and uncomfortable end to the night...ESPECIALLY if you kicked it off by ordering that Butterfish...
Seriously, BEWARE OF THE BUTTERFISH!
All in all, I predict that singles will be the winners in the 2008 Valentine's Day Fight to the DEATH!
I mean, really...
Which one would you rather make sweet V-day love to, anyway?
(And, no, Fred Rodgers does not count, you pervert! Shame on you for thinking such thoughts.)
Monday, February 4, 2008
Caravaggio's "Sick Baccas"
Yeah, that's what I thought....
By the way, have you ever noticed that Caravaggio has an odd fixation on decapitation? Let's take a brief tour of some of Mr. C's headless wonders, shall we?
Ah, the Baroque period's greatest beheading hits! Caravaggio, you gruesome schoolboy, you! Do you notice a trend here among the fallen? If I were a bearded man back in Caravggio's day and happened to bump into him, I would run for the hills. He did, after all, have a sword on his person most of the time (an itchy hilt hand led to many a problem in his life), sort of like if Damien Hirst wandered around with a taser in his pocket...that's quite scary a scary thought...
Apparently good ol' Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio would often act as a model for his paintings, like in that lovely bleeding Mr. Medusa up above. Some art critics claim that the Baccas painting was made during a time of depression and turmoil in his life- it's a good thing he didn't take a cue from Van Gogh and bring his severance fantasies to life...frankly, a headless painter isn't of much use to anyone...
Moving on (fasten your seatbelts and prepare for a stream of consciousness media adventure!)- do you remember this early 90's gem that I somehow got stuck in my head as I was going to work this morning?
Hey everybody! It's "Bad Bad Boys" by Midi, Maxi, & Efti!
Due to Sony BMG's evil hold on their material, I cannot embed the actual music video, which comes in two flavors (basically 90's and even more 90's)- I suggest you check those out to enhance the experience of listening to this forgotten wonder of a tune. Hearing Miss Eftie rap (or is it speaking on pain killers?) about positivity alongside beckoning calls for those bad bad boys (were they watching a lot of cops?) is impossible to resist! Certainly Marissa Tomei's 90's weepie classic and one of my shameful childhood FAVES, UNTAMED HEART, couldn't resist the song's charm. In one of the opening scenes of the movie, we see her bouncing around in the Detroit diner she in which she serves stellar (I can only guess) hash browns to "Bad Bad Boys". I suppose in this scene we're supposed to somehow pick up the fact that she makes bad choices in the man department- letting her hair down and swaying her hips to shit dancehall is 90's speak for SHE DATES GAMBLERS WHO GO FOR A WET LOOK (or something to that effect...)! Sadly, for some inexplicable reason, the world wide web doesn't have a video of this magical scene anywhere in its vast networks (at least on youtube or dailymotion). Amusingly enough, however, there are quite a free videos devoted to showing scenes of Tomei in various undergarments (purple bra, pantyhose, oil pastel?), a youtube trend that has left me quite vexed.
Ah well...if we can't have dancing, we might as well meet one of her charming sleazebuckets, who looks remarkably like 90s grunge pophunk Gavin Rosdale!
Bring on the bad decisions, Marissa!
Did you watch long enough to see Rosie Perez! Motherfucking Rosie Perez! That's your treat of the day (oh if only I had time to write a long love letter to It Could Happen To You in this post...and while I'm on that little tangent, what is up with this trend of Rosie Perez co-starring in down-on-their-luck-diner-waitress-finds-love movies from the 90s? Weird...).
Anyway, at the end of that clip you might have noticed a young Christian Slater staring tenderly and perhaps a bit creepily at Tomei's character. Do you think that he could be the man who can finally break her cycle of bad romances? Do you?
Well you thought right...
But there's one big problem about Mr. Weird Yet Endearing busboy...HE HAS A FUCKING BABOON HEART IN HIS CHEST! Yeah, the movie's working title (no shit) was The Baboon Heart. Now if that doesn't sound like the perfect date movie I don't know what does...
Regardless, the two are able to find love and go on that 90's romance movie staple: the-inspirational-sports-date-scored-by-a-tender-synthesized-piano!!!!!
Did you cry a little gen-X tear while watching that? I know you did...
Isn't it amazing how a terrible yet irresistible single from 1991 can take us on such an emotional nostalgic journey (or to Beavis and Butthead...)?
God, I just love Mondays!
Although Mondays don't hold a candle to quick peeks at Marissa Tomei's thong...
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Frankly, I'm not.
My disdain for football has nothing to do with the common perception that gays hate anything sports related- that, kiddies, is way too easy. In fact, if you can believe it, I spent many a summer at tennis camp, played gold regularly with my mother, was a badass at badminton, am always a sucker for televised tennis, and have a little bit of a rugby fetish (okay, that may be a bit of stereotyping....). Clearly, I'm not too prissy for sports (although that list features many a genteel outdoor activity), which should mean that football shouldn't get me griping. Wrong!
My problems with football are not the common ones that usually revolve around the meatheads playing and watching the sport- what truly irks me about the game is the fact that it's a long drawn out case of viewing blue balls. I don't know how so many people can be patient to watch a game that starts and stops every minute only to be interspersed with a shitload of camera time devoted to the stressed coaches, painted fans, and strutting players when there could be a FUCKING GAME GOING ON. And then there's the problem of the terrible half time shows, usually with some pretty dismal and embarrassing half time performances.
Why? Why does the American populace shy away from sports that don't leave them constantly hanging? Sure the hours long back and forth of soccer may get boring at times, but my balls can't handle the waiting.
Regardless, by some strange twist of fate I'm actually attending a Superbowl party this year that will be attended by the casts of various operas from the Chicago Lyric Opera. I'm scratching my head a little over that culture clash. Perhaps I can stir up some impromptu Rigoletto during half time.
Anyway, here's a roundup of some recent points of interest-
The latest issue of The Believer has an exquisite article about America's curious relationship with "bad neighborhoods". The author, Eula Biss, is a professor at my alma mater Northwestern University (a place with its own share of football problems). She focuses a good deal of the piece on her experience living in Rogers Park on Chicago's far North side. After coming out of Northwestern, where RP fears are almost pandemic (late night fears of leaving the Howard el stop are quite common), this was an especially interesting dissection of white mythologizing and fear mongering over space. Anybody tied to Chicago or NU (or anyone else for that matter) should find it quite interesting.
Read it online HERE.
I just made a Myspace music page (please groan now) to chronicle my musical progress for a song cycle that I've been working on for a little while now about a horrifying witch trial that took place in 16th century Germany. I'll probably be updating more about my findings an research on this blog in the future, but for now you can hear some of the unfinished pieces HERE.
I highly recommend that you go out and purchase some Van Steenberge Atomium beer to make your Superbowl all the better. On this most American of days, do you really need a domestic? Atomium is complex (sweet one minute, heavy and dark the next, a wee but oily...oily?!?!), rich, and boozy, which will make you look like a fancy fool in front of all your football fancying friends.