[What's so funny?]
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Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
Duchess of Cornwall: Now Uterus-Free
How odd that, on the same day I finish reading Sue Townsend's passably funny new novel "Queen Camilla", her real-life counterpart should be in the shop for a tune-up.Such is life. And her, just back from United Arab Emirates, kicking up a fuss over a few li'l rubies just days ago.
We here at the Pop Culture Institute wish Her Royal Highness every haste in her recovery, and breathe an extra sigh of relief that yet another barrier to reproduction has been afforded the honeymoon couple.
[S O U R C E]
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George Michael To Re-Open Wembley
Say what you will about his horndog tendencies and/or pharmacological mishegas, on stage is where George Michael really delivers. It's rare that I see a live performance of someone's that's better than the studio version, but George Michael is it all the way.
So it's a tremendous (though, in my opinion, fitting) honour that he gets to help christen the new 90,000 seat venue on June 9th by playing the first concert there, though it may take him a couple of weeks to get around to servicing all the men's washrooms.
[B B C]
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The War on Macro-Terrorism
Well, it's high time somebody did something about this. It's too bad it's my old nemesis Gareth Kirkby who is, but he's at least somewhat better than no one.
When I lived in Ottawa (I believe it was the late Cretaceous period) I wrote a couple of times for the gay paper there, which at that time was called GO Info. It was sponsored by what was then just plain Gays of Ottawa. In fact, GO INfo was the first paper to publish me, and I still have nightmares about my editor there, one Gabriella Goliger.
We had an awful time in those days (1989ish) getting retailers to carry the paper; it would seem, then, that nothing has changed in my nation's capital. GO INfo was superseded by Capital Xtra and they're still having the same problem.
Of course, even here in super-tolerant Vancouver, Xtra West paper boxes are the most damaged of all. I frequently find them propped open so that the papers inside will be destroyed by rain. Despite my prickly relationship with Xtra West I always repair their boxes when I find them like this.
One of the things I'm going to do once I'm getting paid to produce this site is to stake out the ones most frequently targeted and catch some motherfucker in the act and have him arrested, take his picture getting arrested, and schmear his face and name all over the Internet as a warning. Unless it's some homeless guy.
You know, it's all very easy to see terrorism as a big event - a car bomb, say - and feel there's nothing we can do about it. But terrorism is also a hundred little things, such as this. Preventing people from finding community and accessing information that is pertinent to them (but otherwise unavailable) is what I like to call macro-terrorism, and it needs to stop too. Fortunately, individuals can stop macro-terrorism, so let's, shall we?
[S O U R C E]
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When I lived in Ottawa (I believe it was the late Cretaceous period) I wrote a couple of times for the gay paper there, which at that time was called GO Info. It was sponsored by what was then just plain Gays of Ottawa. In fact, GO INfo was the first paper to publish me, and I still have nightmares about my editor there, one Gabriella Goliger.
We had an awful time in those days (1989ish) getting retailers to carry the paper; it would seem, then, that nothing has changed in my nation's capital. GO INfo was superseded by Capital Xtra and they're still having the same problem.
Of course, even here in super-tolerant Vancouver, Xtra West paper boxes are the most damaged of all. I frequently find them propped open so that the papers inside will be destroyed by rain. Despite my prickly relationship with Xtra West I always repair their boxes when I find them like this.
One of the things I'm going to do once I'm getting paid to produce this site is to stake out the ones most frequently targeted and catch some motherfucker in the act and have him arrested, take his picture getting arrested, and schmear his face and name all over the Internet as a warning. Unless it's some homeless guy.
You know, it's all very easy to see terrorism as a big event - a car bomb, say - and feel there's nothing we can do about it. But terrorism is also a hundred little things, such as this. Preventing people from finding community and accessing information that is pertinent to them (but otherwise unavailable) is what I like to call macro-terrorism, and it needs to stop too. Fortunately, individuals can stop macro-terrorism, so let's, shall we?
[S O U R C E]
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Esther Goes For The Whole Megillah
This is either a) a tired old married couple trying to put some zing back into things with a little role-playing, b) just a normal day around Madonna's house, c) Purim at the Kabbalah Center in LA, or d) a little bit of each.
Yes, here's Madonna in a costume she pilfered from the set of "Bloodhounds of Broadway" and Guy Ritchie, wearing something one of his wife's best gays must have left behind.
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Finally, Some Good News
How does one select "a jury of his peers" for an actual Peer, anyway?
Well, we're about to find out. Jury selection began today in the trial of Conrad Black, who for years used his company Hollinger Inc. (and its shareholders' money) as his personal ATM, mainly because his sense of entitlement is so vast it has its own postal code. This loathsome tyrant spent a few years coercing the Canadian media into making him our own Murdoch, until he decided he'd rather be Lord Black of Crossharbour instead, and off he went to hump the scotch-soaked wool sacks at Westminster.
In his defense, his biography of FDR is phenomenal. It's so compassionate I've often wondered who really wrote it.
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Al-Qaeda's War Against Civilisation Continues
There have been so many bombings and so much destruction in Iraq I find it hard to make it through the day if I have to think about it, so I end up shutting most of it out. I realise it's selfish, but I've grown accustomed to paying the rent, and sitting on the sofa weeping over hundreds of dead people I would have never met anyway kind of interferes with that.
The war has so far been a blur of stock footage and the vaguely recalled soundbites of a thousand recorded arguments, and I would reduce it even further than that if I could. But this is too much to ignore.
This was not a random thing, but a pointed act. As powerful a thing as the printed word is, our ability to read it is even more so. These animals are attacking that very thing, striking at the very soul of every human being.
I wonder if there were any copies of the Koran in this book market. Surely blowing up the words of the Prophet ought to disqualify them from receiving their 72 virgins or figs or whatever it is they get.
[S O U R C E]
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The war has so far been a blur of stock footage and the vaguely recalled soundbites of a thousand recorded arguments, and I would reduce it even further than that if I could. But this is too much to ignore.
This was not a random thing, but a pointed act. As powerful a thing as the printed word is, our ability to read it is even more so. These animals are attacking that very thing, striking at the very soul of every human being.
I wonder if there were any copies of the Koran in this book market. Surely blowing up the words of the Prophet ought to disqualify them from receiving their 72 virgins or figs or whatever it is they get.
[S O U R C E]
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Beaver Fever Sweeps The Bronx
These jokes are too easy, even for me.
Seriously, though, if I may be permitted to wag my finger...
In a lot of ways we as a species seem determined to wipe the Earth clean of everything but bugs and rocks; in the meantime, some of the changes we've already made seem to be making it possible for other animals to return after long absences.
Now, if only there was a way we could do whatever we've been doing, just a lot more...
[The New York Times]
The man we have to thank for this is Representative Jose Serrano, of New York's 16th District.
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Seriously, though, if I may be permitted to wag my finger...
In a lot of ways we as a species seem determined to wipe the Earth clean of everything but bugs and rocks; in the meantime, some of the changes we've already made seem to be making it possible for other animals to return after long absences.
Now, if only there was a way we could do whatever we've been doing, just a lot more...
[The New York Times]
The man we have to thank for this is Representative Jose Serrano, of New York's 16th District.
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Sunday, March 04, 2007
Queen Bea Visits Turkey
No, she didn't go to the White House; the actual country of Turkey.The visit has various geopolitical ramifications: Turkey's been pledging the EU for years, and a little hospitality like this plays well on the world stage. Also, given how many Turkish guest workers there are in the Netherlands, and with a rising tide of violence both in and from these (mostly Muslim) communities, it doesn't hurt the Hague to play nice either.
Here's what the Turkish Daily News had to say; if you so choose, you can chase it with a little something from DutchNews.
PS: Her Majesty's birthday was on 30 January; a belated Happy Birthday Ma'am.
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Weekend At King Peter II's
What is it all of a sudden with dead people that no one wants to bury or leave buried? In Anna Nicole's case I could see, because the toxicology analysis of her was on par with Woodstock, but His Majesty's been dead since 1970.Well, if it helps them in restoring their monarchy by giving people a place to flock to, I guess I'm all for it.
[S O U R C E]
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Saturday, March 03, 2007
Full Moon Tonight
What a better time than tonight to debut my full moon banner, although technically this is a picture taken of a New Moon, and technically it was also part of an earlier post, "Experimenting With Banners" and it was not taken recently.
Hey, what do you want? It's the weekend, and it's a well known fact that there's no news on the weekend, at least not since Britney shaved her head.
The whole week has been weird, and now I know why. The last week she waxes is the same week as my manstrual cycle (ah yes, the elusive and little discussed male period). This explains everything.
Plus, there was an eclipse today, not that I could see it, as it is overcast heree in Vancouver, but also because I don't believe it was to be visible in North Ameroca at all. Still, the moon is a lovely thing to see with or without celestial phenomena.
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Stephen Colbert: Man of the Year
So says the Aspen Comedy Festival, and I couldn't agree more.
I loved him in "Strangers With Candy" and then on "The Daily Show".
From a brilliant turn at last year's Correspondent's Dinner to the kind of pop culture accolade that accrues when you become an ice cream, the longer Stephen Colbert's cultural moment is, the better it gets.
[S O U R C E]
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I loved him in "Strangers With Candy" and then on "The Daily Show". From a brilliant turn at last year's Correspondent's Dinner to the kind of pop culture accolade that accrues when you become an ice cream, the longer Stephen Colbert's cultural moment is, the better it gets.
[S O U R C E]
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Poet. Queer. Spy?
I first "met" Auden, in the pop sense, when one of the first gay books I ever bought was about his relationship with Chester Kallman. Called "Auden in Love", and written by Dorothy J. Farnum, the book made an indelible impression on me of the man himself.His was quite a scandalous life, although he seemed to take the being gay part of it pretty well in stride, which for those days was a considerable feat indeed. Together with his childhood friend Christopher Isherwood, he seemed to defy the limitations society imposed upon him as a despised minority by being totally blase about the one thing most people hated him for, and instead of letting that destroy him he turned it into art. His life meanders through postwar Anglo-American letters like a silver thread, and his occasional guest appearances in my daily work (such as this one) help keep me connected to the idealistic young queer poet spy I used to want to be.
[S O U R C E]
Or to find out more about W. H. Auden...
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Friday, March 02, 2007
Adoptalina Jolie At It Again
I don't get it.First she gets an Asian one, then she gets a black one, then she has a white one, and now she's going for another Asian one, this time from Vietnam. You mean to tell me she spent all those months in India making that Mariane Pearl movie and she didn't bother to complete the set? If I were Indian I'd be a little peeved.
Oh well, adoption's always a good thing, and who knows? She might get around to a brown one eventually. Plus she's never even gone near a First Nations baby, not yet anyway. Clearly she has plenty of good adopting years ahead of her.
I only hope her career holds, or else she's gonna have to make a Hell of a lot of Lifetime movies to care for them the next time Brad Pitt decides to trade up. Maybe she and Mia Farrow can open a little sweat shop together.
(I'm sorry. That was meaner even than the rest of this. Of course, I could just delete it, but I'm so sick I also find it funny, so I won't. Blogging, my friends, is a worse compulsion than you can imagine.)
[S O U R C E]
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Beeb Inks Deal With YouTube
So it looks like the BBC's genius goes beyond the programming sphere; someone over at Broadcasting House has an eye for new media as well.
This, of course, is the first inkling of the YouTube of the future, where individual sketches, monologues, and scenes from your favourite shows of all times (plus new favourites in the making) can rub shoulders with amateur clips of guys getting hit in the nads and, of course, loads and loads of kitties and puppies and kids.
[S O U R C E]
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This, of course, is the first inkling of the YouTube of the future, where individual sketches, monologues, and scenes from your favourite shows of all times (plus new favourites in the making) can rub shoulders with amateur clips of guys getting hit in the nads and, of course, loads and loads of kitties and puppies and kids.
[S O U R C E]
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R.I.P. (At Last) Anna Nicole Smith
Remembering, of course, the woman died on February 8th. I know that tabloid TV (you know, CNN and that lot) would have liked to keep it going for a full month, but let the woman rest already. You created her, you hounded her, and now you've feasted on her remains. It's time to let dead models lie.
A villainous estranged mother, a baby taking custody of a corpse, a handful of babydaddies (including Zsa Zsa's husband), a crying judge with a syndication deal... What a long, strange trip it's been (someone said once, probably Jerry Garcia after a car trip on acid).
So who's up for Act II of "Dead Like Anna"? Anybody?
[S O U R C E]
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Giuliani Invokes Reagan
[Photo by Doug Mills for the New York Times]
Rudolph Giuliani, on the campaign trail today, tried to invoke Ronald Reagan. He mentioned him a dozen times in his speech, but that didn't seem to work. Well, of course not; for invoking Reagan you need three virgins and a bucket of fresh goat's blood. You use the goat's blood to paint three upside down pentacles then slaughter one virgin over each sigil.
Guh! Everybody knows that. Maybe, if he asked nicely, Karl Rove will show him how it's done.
On second thought, let's never speak of this again.
[S O U R C E]
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Thursday, March 01, 2007
A Public Display of Affliction
Not ten minutes after my contretemps in London Drugs, with half a Blenz medium sliding nicely into my gullet as a consolation, I was about to cross the street when out of the corner of my eye I saw Terry. I turned quickly and hoped he hadn't seen me. I remember thinking, 'With any luck he'll think it's someone who looks like me rather than me and I'll be safe'.
Then I remembered: that kind of logic doesn't even work in sitcoms. Shit! I was gonna have to steel myself up to talking to him. I heard him call "Hey!" and ignored it. I mounted a last-ditch escape attempt and in my zeal to get away from him I nearly ran in front of a number 9 bus. That's where he caught me.
Terry is a very cute guy I've known casually for about five years. I see him about five times a year; three or four of those I manage to avoid him. The last time was nearly a year ago now.
If you were to describe my type, you'd come close to describing Terry. In addition to the hotness (honestly - so much it really should be continued on a second guy, preferably me) he's smart and he's inexplicably friendly to me. I say inexplicably partly because of the whole Gay Men Hate Me thing, but partly because he came from such an unfriendly crowd. Yet here he is again.
Terry: Haven't seen you in a long time.
Me: Yeah. Keeping a low profile. I almost didn't see you today, either, the way that bus was driving.
Terry: Yeah, I woulda had to leap in front of it to save you. (He paused for a beat, then said:) You're looking well. Really good.
Me: You look just as good as ever.
Terry: Thanks. (He smiled with his mouth closed. I knew I'd better be careful now, because if his teeth make an appearance I'm a goner.)
Me: What are you doing over here anyway? (Terry lives in the West End, and West End gays never leave their precious ghetto even when they most ought to.) You crossed a bridge and everything. Pretty gutsy for a West End guy.
I was teasing and he took it as such. He smiled at me again; this time it was like someone made a copy with the lid open. A tiny piece of me (although definitely a bad piece) died when he did.
Terry: Yeah, I do lots of things I'm not supposed to do.
Me: So, are you working around here?
He gestured vaguely in the direction of the hospital.
It was about a block from where he caught me to where we'd have to go our separate ways; all this walking and dialogue took less than thirty seconds, but felt like thirty minutes, and probably took 30 months off my life.
At the corner of W.10th and Heather we parted. I watched him walk away, his slender figure spryly crossing away from me. I wanted to vomit, that's how nice it was to see him.
For the next couple of hours I played the scene over and over in my head, kicking myself for letting him see me, for not mentioning my blog so we could stay in better touch, for all the stupid things I do, and did. Of course, if I'd have ignored him and run away I'd have been sick about that too, and the same if I'd told him about the blog.
Just about the only decision I made today with regards to Terry that I wouldn't have regretted was stepping in front of that bus, although I deeply regret admitting that. So you see my quandary. 99.99% of the gay men I meet treat me like dog shit, so that when the .01% who are super nice to me come around it takes everything I have to even orchestrate the awkward conversation we did have.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm not a well man.
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Then I remembered: that kind of logic doesn't even work in sitcoms. Shit! I was gonna have to steel myself up to talking to him. I heard him call "Hey!" and ignored it. I mounted a last-ditch escape attempt and in my zeal to get away from him I nearly ran in front of a number 9 bus. That's where he caught me.
Terry is a very cute guy I've known casually for about five years. I see him about five times a year; three or four of those I manage to avoid him. The last time was nearly a year ago now.
If you were to describe my type, you'd come close to describing Terry. In addition to the hotness (honestly - so much it really should be continued on a second guy, preferably me) he's smart and he's inexplicably friendly to me. I say inexplicably partly because of the whole Gay Men Hate Me thing, but partly because he came from such an unfriendly crowd. Yet here he is again.
Terry: Haven't seen you in a long time.
Me: Yeah. Keeping a low profile. I almost didn't see you today, either, the way that bus was driving.
Terry: Yeah, I woulda had to leap in front of it to save you. (He paused for a beat, then said:) You're looking well. Really good.
Me: You look just as good as ever.
Terry: Thanks. (He smiled with his mouth closed. I knew I'd better be careful now, because if his teeth make an appearance I'm a goner.)
Me: What are you doing over here anyway? (Terry lives in the West End, and West End gays never leave their precious ghetto even when they most ought to.) You crossed a bridge and everything. Pretty gutsy for a West End guy.
I was teasing and he took it as such. He smiled at me again; this time it was like someone made a copy with the lid open. A tiny piece of me (although definitely a bad piece) died when he did.
Terry: Yeah, I do lots of things I'm not supposed to do.
Me: So, are you working around here?
He gestured vaguely in the direction of the hospital.
It was about a block from where he caught me to where we'd have to go our separate ways; all this walking and dialogue took less than thirty seconds, but felt like thirty minutes, and probably took 30 months off my life.
At the corner of W.10th and Heather we parted. I watched him walk away, his slender figure spryly crossing away from me. I wanted to vomit, that's how nice it was to see him.
For the next couple of hours I played the scene over and over in my head, kicking myself for letting him see me, for not mentioning my blog so we could stay in better touch, for all the stupid things I do, and did. Of course, if I'd have ignored him and run away I'd have been sick about that too, and the same if I'd told him about the blog.
Just about the only decision I made today with regards to Terry that I wouldn't have regretted was stepping in front of that bus, although I deeply regret admitting that. So you see my quandary. 99.99% of the gay men I meet treat me like dog shit, so that when the .01% who are super nice to me come around it takes everything I have to even orchestrate the awkward conversation we did have.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm not a well man.
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It Happened Again
Seeing as I have recently come into a little money, I am once again on the prowl for some more and better blogging equipment. I thought I'd try London Drugs on Broadway near Cambie, since it's near where I'll be working tonight. I entered and approached the Electronics counter; there were two men working there - an Asian guy and a blond guy. Not to be racist, but I went to speak to the Asian, not because I thought he knew any more about cameras than the blond guy, he just looked more helpful.
It was not to be. The blond guy got there first.
Blond Guy: Good afternoon sir, can I help you?
Me: Yes, I bought my current camera in April last year at London Drugs downtown. It's a Fujifilm S5200. I was looking to compare features with the Fujifilm S9000, but I don't see it here.
Blond Guy sighed and rolled his eyes, which should have been my clue to step away, or at least start laughing. I did neither.
Blond Guy: We've never sold that camera here, and I don't think they make it anymore.
Me: I see.
There was a long pause. So long, in fact, if it was on TV it would have been funny (like they sometimes do on 'Family Guy'). I had to do something, so I began admiring the S6000 which was in the display case.
Blond guy: (finally, with a sigh) I guess I can look it up for you on the Net.
Me: Thank you.
Then I stood and watched the second hand of the nearest clock whirl through 2 solid minutes while I, a motivated buyer, am ignored.
Finally I asked the Asian guy: "Are you the manager?"
He nodded. Even though he'd been standing there the entire time, and undoubtedly heard the entire transaction, he'd done nothing sooner to intervene.
Me: I came in here today as a business man looking to buy a piece of equipment for my business, and when I did I expected to be treated as such. Instead I get this guy's attitude.
Blond guy: (oozing with attitude) I did NOT give you attitude.
Me: I consider a heavy sigh and rolling eyes when I only asked a simple question to be attitude.
Manager: Sir...
Me: On second thought, I've changed my mind.
Manager: But...
Me: I think I'll go and buy this camera somewhere else.
And then I leaned in to the Blond guy and said: "The next time I want attitude like yours, I'll go to the Odyssey, thank you." The Odyssey is a gay bar in Vancouver, frequented by twinks of all ages.
The last I saw, he'd turned beet red, and there was an exchange of words between himself and the manager as I walked away.
So it seems that nothing has changed yet. I am still not entitled to being treated with respect by any gay men.
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It was not to be. The blond guy got there first.
Blond Guy: Good afternoon sir, can I help you?
Me: Yes, I bought my current camera in April last year at London Drugs downtown. It's a Fujifilm S5200. I was looking to compare features with the Fujifilm S9000, but I don't see it here.
Blond Guy sighed and rolled his eyes, which should have been my clue to step away, or at least start laughing. I did neither.
Blond Guy: We've never sold that camera here, and I don't think they make it anymore.
Me: I see.
There was a long pause. So long, in fact, if it was on TV it would have been funny (like they sometimes do on 'Family Guy'). I had to do something, so I began admiring the S6000 which was in the display case.
Blond guy: (finally, with a sigh) I guess I can look it up for you on the Net.
Me: Thank you.
Then I stood and watched the second hand of the nearest clock whirl through 2 solid minutes while I, a motivated buyer, am ignored.
Finally I asked the Asian guy: "Are you the manager?"
He nodded. Even though he'd been standing there the entire time, and undoubtedly heard the entire transaction, he'd done nothing sooner to intervene.
Me: I came in here today as a business man looking to buy a piece of equipment for my business, and when I did I expected to be treated as such. Instead I get this guy's attitude.
Blond guy: (oozing with attitude) I did NOT give you attitude.
Me: I consider a heavy sigh and rolling eyes when I only asked a simple question to be attitude.
Manager: Sir...
Me: On second thought, I've changed my mind.
Manager: But...
Me: I think I'll go and buy this camera somewhere else.
And then I leaned in to the Blond guy and said: "The next time I want attitude like yours, I'll go to the Odyssey, thank you." The Odyssey is a gay bar in Vancouver, frequented by twinks of all ages.
The last I saw, he'd turned beet red, and there was an exchange of words between himself and the manager as I walked away.
So it seems that nothing has changed yet. I am still not entitled to being treated with respect by any gay men.
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