Fierceness Defined

A clip with Nicky Siano, Jayne County, and Anita Bryant being publicly humiliated, what more could you possibly want.

Looking Good...

So this is supposedly the mug shot taken of notorious senator Larry Craig shortly after he was arrested in the Minneapolis airport.

Notice the impeccably tied necktie and the american flag pin. Is there a more dignified look to serve a stranger as you prepare to give him anonymous sex in bathroom stall? I think not.

Kudos Mr. Craig!

Read Your Clothes

The good folks at DSquared remind us that religion does have a place in fashion.

So you say you don't believe in Jesus? Just substitute the name of your favorite deity and or prophet and the statement still holds true.

Coming Distraction

While I can frequently be found hatin' on the Deitch Gallery. I have to give them props for producing the Art Parade. It is one of those "only in New York" that never fails to give a sense of the full spectrum of delightfully ridiculous people in this town.

Officiel!

It has been decided that if you are, indeed, a woman this is the shoe of the right now. 'Tis all 'bout color and shape at the moment and this Pierre Hardy originale has both in spades.

...And I don't want to hear any backtalk about how we are entering autumn and therefore we are returning to muted colors....Didn't you comprehend the first sentence of this post?..."It has been decided..." Just accept it, move on, and make the world a more beautiful place

Out (of it)

Hung out with Timmy last night.

We went to Pravda, Eastern Bloc and then broke up the communist europe theme with a visit to The Phoenix. It was Timmy's first visit there and he was surprised to see the bar was tended not by the de riguer hot bartender, but an elderly woman who looked like she was not unfamiliar with the inside of a methadone clinic...and people still question why I love this city.

Space Bubble

Is it wrong to not want to date someone because of their neighborhood? I definitely don't think so.

Don't get me wrong, I am not one of these people who say "I never go above 14th St." (although it is true.) I am speaking about seeing people who live too close to your own neighborhood. I need my space...that is part of deal, yo.

Shout Out: Chris Burden

During college, when I should have been in class, I could frequently be found in the library reading back issues of Artforum and Art In America magazines. One of the artists I discovered and fell in love with was Chris Burden.

Performance art was a hot topic at the time due to the whole NEA Four controversy. Yet, Burden's work decades earlier put his contemporaries to shame...he literally personified "Bleeding Edge" art. How many others would literally take a bullet in their arms and call it art? Honey, smearing chocolate on your naked body is nowhere near as gangsta as getting shot.

Viva La Glamour

Is there anything sexier than smoking a cigarette naked in the hallway of an apartment decorated with international magazine covers? The legendary After Dark magazine and I say "No"

Internet Diet

I am sure I have mentioned the hard copy magazine before, but the online blog of Linda Simpson's My Comrade is an absolutely essential part of the thinking pervert's internet diet.

The Craigslist ripoff layout is so genius that it literally hurts my skull. The content is so off-the-wall that it you will wish you were that clever...at least I do.

Addicted To Love

Other than the obvious drama that addiction conjures, one of the things I love most about the A&E show Intervention is that it is one of the few places on TV where families and friends tell others that they love them.

The unscripted nature of the documentary allows people in pain to express what is in their heart to someone who, through their addiction, is hurting them. So often the families involved show the power of forgiveness...they are willing to forgive past hurt for the greater good of getting the addict on the road to recovery.

F.A.C.

Hung out with Jasmin, Jeff and Boyle yesterday at Old Town Bar.

Everyone was in a particularly kvetching mood, which was good because it mirrored my own.

Sometimes it is nice to do nothing except drink Guinness and bitch about the world.

A Visual Depiction Of How I Am Feeling Today...

...in a word RADICAL.

Silver Streak Leads To Blue Streak

We were sitting around a small hexagonal table. Just me and a couple of my second grade friends. Talk turned to what we had done the previous holiday weekend...

Even though I was only seven years old at the time, my brothers had taken me to see the Gene Wilder/Richard Pryor movie Silver Streak. How they convinced my mom to allow me to see a "PG" movie still remains a mystery.

The movie's adult plot was way beyond my comprehension. What I did pick up on were the several "curse words" that probably emanated from Richard Pryor's character.

At this young age I was still hyper-hyper concerned with being a "good boy". I never got into trouble and was basically the apple of my teacher's eye.

But here I was sitting with my friends around a table...and I began to tell them of the movie I had seen. I doubt any of them had seen anything but a Disney movie, but here I was having seen an adult comedy.

Despite my better judgement, I knew that I had to relay the "curse words" I had been exposed to. After a brief plot synopsis, I gathered them in close and in a hushed tone I said "...and then, one guy said 'Ass'". I had never verbalized a naughty word before, and here I had just uttered it within earshot of my teacher.

My friends were justifiably impressed with the outrageousness of my verbage. They were so impressed that they began laughing and saying the word "Ass" out loud.

What should have been a liberating rebellious experience immediately turned into torture. Although I quieted them down...I was instantly racked with guilt and regret. I just knew that I had made a mistake...I knew that somehow someway my verbal transgression would come back to haunt me...one classmate might tell another who might tell our teacher or their parent.

I was burdened with guilt for days...never knowing when the hammer might drop and I would be called into the principal's office for a "talking-to".

As it turned out, nothing ever came of my "blue streak"....I thanked G-d profusesly for saving my sterling reputation at the time.

I think about this incident quite frequently...over the course of time I gave into the temptation to swear and now I have what is affectionately known as "potty-mouth". I still have an amazing ability to censor myself in those situations that demand it...but otherwise....I talk a great deal of shit...

Dog Day Afternoon

It is supposed to be 105 degrees tomorrow...I am really over this heat and humidity...If this continues I may lose control.

Week In Review

...Drinks with Ben...Date with new "boy"...Kitchen repairs...No "day off" from gym...Lugging home ten books from the Library...fresh Beats In Space podcast...etc.

Respect Yourself

Holy shiite...just watched the "Great Performances" documentary on Stax Records. Absolutely fantastic.

So much history on so much awesome music.

At various points in the film, practically every participant describes the color-blind atmosphere at the Stax Studios in Memphis. Black or white, it did not matter provided you had talent and soul.

The artists they had were blessed with both talent and soul...Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, Staple Singers, Rufus Thomas and many many others.

There are some scenes with the Stax artists on tour in Europe in 1967. The performances on display are the very definition of "tearin' the roof off the sucka!". Smokin' hot.

Guiding Force

Just picked up Michael Musto's "La Dolce Musto". It is a well-edited collection of his columns from the past two decades. It is funny as hell.

Before I moved to New York, I relied on Musto to give me the dirt on the comings-and-goings of B-list celebrities and the Club Kids that are/were his milieu.

Although the Village Voice is free on the streets of Manhattan, I had to pay through the nose to get a subscription mailed to Lincoln Nebraska...but trust me, it was worth every cent. Musto's gloriously bitchy writing was a large part of my desire to head to New York. He deliciously documented slices of nightlife that I had not even come close to experiencing.