Saturday's Inspirational Message

As I was preparing dinner (it looks delicious -- want a bite?) I remembered something important:

How much I hate Nancy Grace.

I'll let you know later if I'm able to eat.

Dancing With Myself

The spectacularly crystalline weather that's popped up over the past few days reminds me of June in London. Living in London in the late '90s, I spent many a similarly weathered day sleeping late, shopping in Camden Market and lounging with friends outside of a Soho coffee shop, gabbing and chain smoking as various personalities from the nightclub "scene" sauntered by.

The cool sunshine recalls a day trip to London to Brighton I never took with a persistent South African. He and I struck a friendship one Sunday afternoon at an after-hours club -- the need for chewing gum after marathon dance sprees forged our bond.

And then, like Mrs. Dalloway at a Basement Jaxx concert, my thoughts turn to the obvious: the never-ending nightclub-hop that finally ended.

The ecstatic randomness that formerly was the nightclub experience.... Ditching my (now ex) boyfriend's passed-out best friend behind the sofa of a party called "Cocoa Latte" -- as we dash to the next club. Befriending drag queens to learn the best "hookups" in town. Feigning early morning amusement at the MTV Music Generator compositions of two strangers -- while my best friend crashes on their bed.

The music. The dancing. The sweat. The soggy serendipity..... Now it's all g-------o-------n---------e.

There's a moment in the film The Last Days of Disco when Josh Neff (played by Matt Keeslar) rambles about his love of discos. Neff says, more or less, how happy he is that discos provide an outlet for social release. He's stoked that he's at a point in life, a professional in his late 20's, when he needs, wants and can afford that release.

It's a great moment on film but not so true to the realities of being a gay man around these parts during these times. With the closing of the moderately fun Nation last year, DC gay nightlife options seemed to evaporate. It's a sad summation that Orlando, Florida, has more places for a gay man to dance on a Saturday night than Washington, DC. I'll soon glide past the respectable age at which one can go "clubbing," passing it with very few remaining Neff-approved outlets at which I can thrust myself on dance floor strangers.

While the happy-go-lucky travails may be gone, there is some comfort in the bores of certainty and stability. I will (hopefully) never again feel the need to refill a plastic water bottle with bathroom water, share the bottle with desperately thirsty and completely unknown individuals and then drink out of it again myself.

I have an iPod and a stereo should I get the sudden urge to dance with myself. I know it's not the same thing as a night at a great club, but it also won't cause so many bags under my eyes.... and, well, it's not as if there are many other options for dancing now.

Who's Lou Dobbs: The Post Script

The heroic efforts of circumlocutor to identify three friends who know who Lou Dobbs is (and find him compelling enough to see in person) were for nothing. circumlocutor received the following message via email this afternoon:

Due to circumstances beyond the control of The George Washington University, CNN’s Lou Dobbs Tonight special, “War on the Middle Class,” will not be produced at GW this evening, Thursday, March 29. We regret any inconvenience and appreciate your understanding.

The Next Generation of Gay America?

When I was a teenager, my dearly departed mother would say to me, "circumlocutor, I don't care if you're gay but please don't make a spectacle of yourself." "Spectacle," of course, meant that pink polyester, eye shadow, high-heel shoes and (even slightly) sparkly clothes were not to touch my body.

I acquiesced to her Southern conservative/Protestant prohibitions... for the most part. (She did once help me pick a dress for a one-off charity event -- and enjoyed it more that she admitted.) When I sipped from the sinful cups of dark eye shadow (I was a college freshman and it was heroin chic!) and too-tight tank tops (how else would I get laid?), I did it away from her -- at places and times she'd never see or hear about.

And then we have Sanjaya Malakar, pictured with his infamous American Idol "pony-hawk" above. Malakar has become the nation's most over-exposed tranny via his nerve-busting presence on Idol this season. If you think his hair looks bad, you should hear his singing. It sucks.

Lucky for Malakar, he has the warm embrace of the Vote for Worst community. The apparent power of that muckraking site, fused with a fan base (who are these people?) that enjoys making pay-per dial phone calls, has been enough to keep the tranny around long after his welcome expired.

I wonder what Sanjaya's parents think of his incredible, burnable hair. Perhaps they haven't yet given him the talk about not embarrassing himself in public. Maybe they don't think they need to. Or, possibly, Sanjaya just doesn't care.

Enough about me... WaPo's Lisa de Moraes is far more dedicated to (and better at) describing the Sanjaya experience:

Sadly, the hair had neglected to send the Ponyhawk Week memo to Sanjaya himself, who thought it was On the Good Ship Lollipop Week. He sang a Stefani tune about wanting to wash in some chick's used bathwater because she's so naughty and hot, but he came across like a shy little child who didn't really understand the lyrics, while his ponyhawked hair flounced and strutted like a drag queen....

Stefani had been enormously helpful coaching Sanjaya, telling the camera afterward how she feels for him because the song's too hard for him, adding philosophically, "and he chose it, so good luck to him tonight."

Judge Randy Jackson said he was once again left speechless by Sanjaya but added, "Come on, man," in re his singing. Judge Paula Abdul, in an "American Idol" first, used the word "gumption," which we will now use in a sentence: If, Sanjaya, you have the gumption to come out with your hair all done up like one of the Lipizzaner stallions, why did you sing like a frightened pony at the petting zoo?

"I presume there was no mirror in your dressing room?" judge Simon Cowell asked Sanjaya rhetorically.

"You're just jealous because you couldn't pull it off," Sanjaya snapped back -- it was the hair talking. And suddenly, we think we know which of the guy singers told the other Idolettes weeks ago he had this competition sewn up. Show host Ryan Seacrest did a "blind item" about it on his radio show back around the time Antonella Barba got booted from the competition, but he has yet to reveal which of the guys was that cocky.

Anyway, Simon, exasperated, told Sanjaya & Hair: "I don't think it matters anymore what we [the judges] say. I genuinely don't. You are in your own universe. If people like you, good luck."

"Well, thank you!" Sanjaya shot back.

Who's Lou Dobbs: A Tragicomedy in One Act

Setting: Unknown location. It's Wednesday morning.

circumlocutor: Do you want to go to this Lou Dobbs thing at GW tomorrow?

LIVE CNN SPECIAL "WAR ON THE MIDDLE CLASS" WITH LOU DOBBS AT GW

Join us for a special live edition of Lou Dobbs Tonight, "War on the Middle Class" at The George Washington University.
Lou Dobbs is taking the War on the Middle Class to the front lines in Washington, asking why our elected officials are not representing the needs of the American middle class.

Thursday, March 29, 2007
The live program begins at 8:00 p.m.
Doors open at 7:00 p.m. Audience members must be seated by 7:40 p.m.

Friend 1: Let’s go!

circumlocutor: Ok… I’m going to email them right now and ask for three tickets. You do the same.

[The two type emails on prop computers.]

Friend 1: [90 seconds later] They said yes!

circumlocutor: How did I know they would say yes to you first? Do you mind if I bring the Former-Former-Former-Significant Other along? Now that you are the keeper of the tickets, I have to sweet talk you.

Friend 1: Haha! Let me make sure one of my friends whose in from out of town doesn’t want to go. If she doesn’t, then the Former-Former-Former-Significant Other is more than welcomed!!

circumlocutor: I’ll try to get my own tickets.

[Friend 1 exits stage.]

circumlocutor: [to self, looking at prop computer] I have my own tickets now. Four of them.

[Friend 2 and Friend 3 enter stage.]

circumlocutor: OK, I reserved four tickets for this Lou Dobbs thing tomorrow night -- CNN live from GW.... one for me, one for the F-F-F-Significant Other and one for each of you. If either or both of you want to go, I have tickets for you -- should be fun. Let me know if you want to go or not.

Friend 2: Um. Eau.

Friend 3: Does that translate into NO?

Friend 2: Yes, that’s a no.

circumlocutor: Last time I try to do anything nice.

Friend 2: Weeknights are for working out. Sorry!

Friend 3: I have a date.

circumlocutor: Whatever. I have yet to hear back from the F-F-F-S Other. He may not even want to go because he doesn't get off of work until 7 or 8 most nights. In that case, I'll just take a nap tomorrow during that time.

[Friends 2 & 3 exit. Friends 4 & 5 enter stage.]

circumlocutor: Want to go see Lou Dobbs tomorrow night at GW? I have tickets.

Friend 4: Who’s Lou Dobbs?

circumlocutor: You know, the chubby guy on CNN. His hair was white, and now it’s red. He’s always screaming about illegal aliens.

Friend 4: Oh, right. No. I don’t in any way want to go.

Friend 5: I’m busy. Grey’s Anatomy. Who’s Lou Dobbs?

[Friends 4 & 5 exit. Friend 1 enters.]

Friend 1: I’m glad you got your own tickets! (lol)

circumlocutor: Doesn’t matter. No one wants to go. No one knows who Lou Dobbs is -- and those who do, don’t like him.

Friend 1: Huh. My friend just called me back to say that she’s going back home tomorrow instead of Saturday….beahtch.

THE END

Debunking the Debunk of the Debunking of the Debunk of David Sedaris

I wrote a (possibly) brilliant opus this morning about The News & Observer's debunking of the The New Republic's debunk of David Sedaris' debunking of Raleigh, NC. The (possibly) brilliant post contained no fewer than 40 uses of variations of the word "debunk." Truly (possibly) brilliant.

After typing the post (but before clicking "publish"), I stepped away for a fresh cup of the tractor-trailer fuel they call "coffee" around here. And then Blogger did a bad, bad thing.

Blogger sucked my brilliant opus into the Internet's large intestine.

The brilliance is gone. The magic will never again be. My shot at greatness will never return.

Click on the link below if you can move beyond my sorrow.

The naked truth about Sedaris [News & Observer]

Less Exciting Than a Bag of Pennies

It's been a while since I've detailed the boring intricacies of my offline life.

I haven't received any complaints.

By the design and very nature of a "blog," it seems a bit irregular to me that I haven't posted anything personal in a while. This isn't, after all, a news gathering or news distribution site. I don't review gizmos or sex toys. I don't watch Heroes.

I'm not really sure what this blog is. If I had to describe it to a friend or stranger, I'd basically tell them that my blog is the kind of banter and ramblings I might share over coffees or booze..... or whatever..... My fingers are only typing this post because I realized that a couple of dear and distant friends still check this blog on occasion. Since I'm too lazy to return their phone calls, the following is a brief list of what I did over the weekend:

1. Mourned the death of my deceased mother's Yorkshire Terrier. Don't ask how he died -- seriously -- it's too traumatic.


2. Laughed hysterically during a viewing of The Hills Have Eyes II. Realized that the Former Former Significant Other and I were the only persons over the age of 19 in the theater.


3. Went on a wild-goose chase for a Petco that I ultimately realized has closed its doors. Ended up at Petsmart, covering my face in terror as my dog urinated on 1/3 of the store's shelves.


4. Watched Flightplan with the Former Former Significant Other. Listen for 30 minutes as he explained the film's numerous implausibilities.


5. Took my other dog along with the Former Former Significant Other's only dog to the Connecticut Ave. Petco. Covered my face in terror as the Former Former Significant Other's dog urinated on 1/3 of the store's shelves.


6. Met a friend at Rock Creek Park. My dog swam in the creek while the Former Former Significant Other's dog spent two hours trying to "hump" one of the friend's dogs.


7. Got dumped by the Former Former Significant Other.


8. Went grocery shopping.


9. Listened to the Former Former Significant Other tell me he was "just kidding" about dumping me. (Ha, ha!??!)
   


10. The Former Former Significant Other became the Former Former Former Significant Other. (Or, with hyphens, the Former-Former-Former-Significant Other.)

That should hold you folks over for a while.....

Homophobia Rampant in the Caribbean

If you're planning a trip to the Caribbean soon, you may want to leave your gay lover at home. Or, more sensibly, don't go at all.

SF Gate today reminds us that "rampant homophobia goes unchecked" in parts of the Caribbean.

From SF Gate:

On the tiny islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique, French territories in the eastern Caribbean, rampant homophobia goes unchecked, offering unfortunate proof again that, although many people around the world have come to appreciate that racism, bigotry and intolerance are pernicious social diseases, it's still okay - in fact, in many places, it's still encouraged - to vilify, disparage, discriminate against and physically harm gay men and lesbians, or individuals whom homophobic bigots only suspect may be gay or lesbian.

So it is that the Guadeloupean pop singer Admiral T and his musical confrère from Martinique, Lieutenant, have made big names for themselves regionally by peddling vicious, anti-gay "entertainment." In fact, last year, in an event funded in part by the government of Paris, Admiral T was awarded a Music Césaire (something like a Grammy Award in the U.S.) as a noteworthy performer in the new-discoveries category.

Admiral T is best known for his song from a few years ago titled "Makoumé" (which means "homosexual" in the local creole). In it, "he clearly announces his hatred against homosexuals, inviting his listeners to 'burn them like cigarette butts.'" In the song, Admiral T declares that he has "come to burn the fags who hang out near city hall," and that the targets of his bigotry are "going to suffer, suffer; they're going to be gassed, gassed." He advises his listeners: "Instead of aiming your gun at your brother, aim it at them..." (LGBT Commission of the Greens, France)

A Comment From the Crazy Box...

This comment comes in response to a post about a woman, pictured right, who tied a vagrant to a bed, had sex with him and then attempted to drink massive quantities of his blood. (See link to post below.) The author of the comment is referring to the vampiress, Tiffany Sutton, as her niece.

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Drinks-Blood-During-Sex Woman Busted!":

Look you do not know the whole story behind Tiffany. She is my niece and I love her dearly!!!! She has had problems for years and we have been trying to get her the help that she needs for years. She actually a very beautiful person inside and out and the picture makes her look like shit! Keep your comments to yourself until you know the person that you are commenting about!!!!!

Attention Hog Wasn't in Iraq, Injured (Despite Article's Claim)

If any of you are handing out Maggot of the Month awards, consider Amorita Randall for the Gold Star. Randall, pictured right, sought to fill her desperate need for attention by concocting an elaborate narrative -- published in The New York Times Magazine -- about the "brain injuries" she received in "Iraq." The problem, of course, is that she has never been to Iraq and she never suffered "brain injuries" (at least while in the military.)

The NY Times Magazine was Randall's co-conspirator in this bamboozling, which ultimately trivializes the service members actually wounded -- or killed -- in Iraq. Believing and printing Randall's fictional account (proven false by the Navy), the Times Magazine splashed Randall's gross mug in last week's cover story on female Iraq veterans.

Details courtesy of Gawker:

Big trouble at the New York Times Magazine this morning, as an editors' note reveals that one of the women who appeared in last week's cover story on female Iraq veterans never served in Iraq and might have made up much of what she told reporter Sara Corbett in her interview.

In the original article, 27-year-old Amorita Randall (pictured) claimed to have been stationed in Iraq during 2004. She also said that she suffered a brain injury during a roadside attack, in which her Humvee was hit by an I.E.D. Today, the Times writes that, "Based on the information that came to light after the article was printed, it is now clear that Ms. Randall did not serve in Iraq, but may have become convinced she did.".....

A fact-checker from the Times first called the Navy on March 6, three days before the issue was supposed to print. According to the editors' note, "There was preliminary back and forth but no detailed reply until hours before the deadline." At that point, a Navy spokesman told the Times that they had no record of the Humvee incident or of Randall's brain injury, and that "Randall's commander, who served in Iraq, remembered her but said that her unit was never involved in combat while it was in Iraq." All that information was added into the article, but the basic facts of Randall's story—namely, that she'd been in Iraq—remained intact because she had won a medal that was only awarded to people who'd served in a combat area.....

According to an article in the Air Force Times, the Navy people are "annoyed that the Times did so little to check the woman's story." Capt. Tom Van Leunen, deputy chief of information for the Navy, told the paper that the New York Times' fact-checker called too late and didn't allow enough time for a proper confirmation. The fact-checkers object but Van Leunen maintains that the Navy had given the Times enough info on Randall by deadline "to seriously question whether she'd been in Iraq.".....

If you look at all the hedge-words and qualifiers Corbett uses to describe Randall in the piece, it's pretty clear that she had some reservations about the woman's story. By way of introduction, she wrote of Randall's tendency to "[coexist] with her memories"—to "mostly [inch] up to them" instead of just remembering what happened.

'Ex-Gay' Movement Critic in Falls Church on Sunday

Is there a more fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon?

Fresh from a TV appearance on the popular Daily Show with John Stewart, author, columnist and activist Wayne Besen comes to the Washington, D.C., area this Sunday to speak on the subject of his important book, "Anything But Straight: Unmasking the Scandals and Lies Behind the Ex-Gay Movement." The free event, sponsored by the Falls Church News-Press, will be held Sunday, March 25, at 3:30 p.m. in the Falls Church Community Center, 223 N. Little Falls, Falls Church, VA.

Besen will also discuss the non-profit organization he heads, "Truth Wins Out," that "counters disinformation campaigns, debunks the ex-gay myth, and provides accurate information about the lives of gay and lesbian people."

Besen is one of the nation's foremost experts on the false and damaging claims and efforts of the religious right's "ex-gay" ministries. He has documented how they destroy lives and family unity by creating false expectations lead to anger, depression and hostility when they cannot be realized. He has spoken to over 100 universities, churches, business groups and community organizations on the topic.

A graduate of the University of Florida, he worked for the Human Rights Campaign and the Edelman Public Relations agency before launching his own non- profit and writing efforts. His weekly column, "Anything But Straight," appears weekly in the Falls Church News-Press. Following Sunday's forum, he will appear as a special guest in Falls Church at a fundraiser to support the Falls Church School System's "Diversity Affirmation Education Fund," supported entirely by private contributions to bring anti-bullying and pro-diversity programs to the City's public schools. [Press Release]

I Love the Loonies

As a teenager, I hosted a barely-listened-to talk show on an AM radio show. The call-in chat show, presumably like many of its low-watt contemporaries, attracted a stable cast of lunatic callers. While interviewing notable politicians and authors on promotional tours in the station's dark, foam-padded studio, I silently prayed a regular from the cast of loonies would call into the show. They, the Agent-Orange obsessed and the "Burn-the-Bibles"-proclaiming callers, provided a serendipitous departure from the drowning dullness of the egos I was forced to interview each week.

As an adult, I write a barely-read blog while falling asleep in my bed at night. I semi-regularly receive comments from lunatics -- usually from Jonathan R. Rees or a Nancy Grace fan. [Note: I'm not implying that most of my very limited number of commenters are crazy -- don't get paranoid! -- just the ones who blab about cults or Rees himself.]

Now, as I force my eyelids to remain open for five more minutes, I am grateful for the comments. They're free filler and allow me to remain a blogger for one more day -- without the burden of having to write anything original or of consequence.

There's no doubt in my mind that, after reading that great build up, you will love the below comment entered on an old post yesterday.

pierre has left a new comment on your post "Nuclear War Whackos = Homophobic House of Yahweh":

i was reading this piece about a member of the texas cult, as to soap, and that guy that wasn't washing himself...the commentor misunderstood this other guy, they DO NOT USE SOAP THAT IS MADE WITH LARD.any member of that group would not use lard to clean themselves, hence think twice before reporting on that group because errors like that prove their superficial point of right...now we can also see the level of control these poeple have and the genuine ignorance of christians as it pertains to the scriptures.

The fact that this guy cannot buy soap that has no animal provenance is indicative of the progressive inability of their members to think for themselves,I know all about this group because i was there at the beginning and left early,and i have been following them for a long time,i could write a book on this group.

what is the truth about their teachings and the mechanics of their corruption(s).The manner of the dissolution of that cult,the reasons for it.

suffice it to say that the date to watch should be in the days that will follow october 13 2007.

The Woes of a Madam

I mistakenly assume that my tens of readers outside of the Metro DC area read, watch and listen to the same sources of news as yours truly. (My Ugandan readers must be shrieking in terror with that admission.) That blogged, I've yet to be inspired or intrigued by Deborah Jeane Palfrey, the woebegone "Madam" accused of running a hooker ring in Washington, DC, and I also assume that my tens of readers outside of this area would share -- given the opportunity -- that sentiment.

But, alas, when my only loyal reader, Beth, sends me a link to a story... even if one about said non-intriguing Madam... I am more than happy to post it. And, hopefully, the tens of others reading this blog -- including my vast Ugandan following -- might find some use in of the tale of Ms. Palfrey.

High-priced call girls always seem to have their little black books. Deborah Jeane Palfrey, accused of running an illegal escort service in the nation's capital, has 46 pounds of phone records.

And her offer - or threat - to turn them over to the media has some in Washington playing a guessing game as to whether any Beltway movers and shakers are on her list of up to 15,000 client phone numbers.

The 50-year-old alleged D.C. Madam was indicted earlier this month by a federal grand jury on charges of running a high-class call girl ring in the Washington area from her home in Vallejo, Calif. She has denied the escort service engaged in prostitution.

In court records, prosecutors estimate that her business, Pamela Martin and Associates, generated more than $2 million in revenue over 13 years, with more than 130 women employed at various times to serve thousands of clients at $200 to $300 a session.

Her home was raided months ago, but the case attracted little interest until earlier this month, when Palfrey announced that to raise money for her defense, she intended to sell her phone records to any news outlet willing to pay. In an announcement that was sure to make her clients sweat, Palfrey said outside the federal courthouse last week: "The clientele was upscale and came from the more refined walks of life here in the nation's capital."

Though she said she received multiple bids, Palfrey has since given the list for free to a news organization with a sterling reputation, according to her lawyer, Montgomery Blair Sibley. He has refused to identify the news organization. Sibley said he hopes the news organization will ultimately help the defense by uncovering the names of customers who can testify that Palfrey's escorts did not engage in prostitution.

Prosecutors say the move to publicize the list is a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate and harass potential witnesses if the government presses ahead with the case. They asked for and received a restraining order from a judge last Friday that bars disclosure of the records. [Read the entire article -- AP]

Fire Victims Need Help

I received the below email earlier this evening. If you can help or know anyone who can...

Hey blogger pals! So I have a favor to ask. As you'll read in the post below, two friends of a friend's house burned down over the weekend and they lost everything they have -- including one of their friend's who was crashing there's lives :-(. I'm trying to draw attention to a fund that's benefiting the families of those who were hurt and those who lost their stuff. If it's not too much trouble, would you mind linking to this to send people to donate?

http://www.sournsweet.com/?p=1098

Or if it's easier, you can link the fund website directly:

http://www.okayyellow.com/donation.html

If you don't want to/feel like it, that is TOTALLY fine. I just figured I'd ask. Hope you're well!

- Sweet

Condoms in Prisons?

It's been a while since I've posted any condom-related news. Well, to be completely honest, it's been a while since I posted much of anything. And because I'm sure no one noticed the lack of posting (except for the guy who offered me $35 to display a link to his panties-for-sale site), I thought contraceptives were a nice way to say, "I'm back."

Here, therefore, is a little something about condoms and prisons.... I'll be back with more soon. I promise.

Rep. Bobby Rush and two co-sponsors introduced a bill to the U.S. House of Representatives in January that would allow groups to hand out condoms to inmates. The Tribune reports that inmates are 5 times more likely to contract HIV than others. A similar bill was struck down by an Illinois State House committee 6-5 on Thursday, leaving the controversial and unpopular issue in the hands of the U.S. Senate. The AIDS foundation of Chicago, however, is looking for middle ground with the Illinois Department of Corrections.

The debate is controversial for a few reasons. Most apparent are the reasons that faith based groups have, which is their on message mantra that first ascribes to abstinence only. Handing out condoms, they believe, would also encourage homosexuality. This is to be expected, as this debate has been going on for years. The second issue is that of sexually activity in prisons. Sexual contact is prohibited inside prison walls and legislators along with some at the prison facilities believe handing out condoms would encourage sexual contact.

Sexual activity is going to occur regardless of whether or not it is prohibited, 1 percent of inmates are raped and while a perpetrator may not use a condom it is pretty irresponsible to restrict access to condoms. Rev. Doris Green, director of community affairs for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago is pushing hard for the bill. She explains to the Trib that she is concerned for the African American community, which accounts for half of the nationwide case of HIV/AIDS. As she explains, "It's about more than just the prisoners." As the men are released they may pass along the infection to family or someone else. Certain prisons, in L.A. and Washington, D.C. allow inmates to receive condoms. The county jail in L.A., however, only allows their gay inmates access to condoms. This may or may not be too effective though, as the article points out, sex between inmates and prison workers is also an issue. Only 13 percent of guards at the D.C. prison indicated that more issues have arisen due to the distribution of condoms. [Chicagoist]

"Honey, Jim's already dead."

[UPDATE: I've now learned that it's not Faye Dunaway in the below mention Premonition role but some other, equally disfigured and totally obscure actress. I should have known better than to excpect that Faye would get a part in a "Major Motion Picture." Oh. Well.]

As a lifelong homosexual, I am -- hold your hats, folks -- in awe of Faye Dunaway. (Nominate that for "Most Idiotic Lede of the Year.") I've seen every film Dunaway has made, and I wait with excitement for each new page in the increasingly desperate and has-beenish later chapters of her career.

Occasionally, the Dunaway allegiance delivers a sweet cinema treat -- The Yards, for example, was a wonderful little film. But for every Albino Alligator, there are three Dunston Checks Ins. Take a look at her IMDB listing.... the last 20 years are a sad, catalog of B-movie bombs and straight-to-video stinkers. Her upcoming films don't look any more promising. Someone must make her stop.

You can imagine my excitement upon seeing Dunaway's dour, plastic-surgery-scarred face pop up in a trailer for a new film. Unfortunately for Faye, I'm fighting off a bad case of the dry heaves by the time she shows up in the trailer. Premonition, after all, stars the anti-Christ's step-sister, Sandra Bullock. Sorry, Faye, I'll follow you to the depths of the ocean, but I just can't imagine paying more than 22 cents (followed by three slashes to my left wrist) to see a Sandra Bullock movie.

I am grateful that what is probably 1/5 of Dunaway's total screen time, a shot of her standing in the doorway murmuring "Honey, Jim's already dead," has made it into trailers and TV spots that are now in heavy, heavy rotation. (Every frequent movie goer knows that Premonition is the most over-promoted film of the season.)

Tonight I saw the TV spot. As it began, I ran to the TV and cranked up the volume. I grew excited and anxious, hoping to see Faye at Sandra B's door purring her signature line,"Honey, Jim's already dead." At the end of the ad, Dunaway does it. "Honey, Jim's already dead."

I'm laughing. I'm dying. I'm rolling on the floor. This is destined to be the catch phrase of the year. Give her another Oscar, damn it! "Honey, Jim's already dead."

Well, in case you've somehow missed the trailer (which reveals all but the last of the film's major plot points), I've found it for you. It's important that you get in on these catchphrases before they take off. It's crucial that you know you heard it from me first. Watch (or skip) to the end to see and hear it. "Honey, Jim's already dead." I'm dying.

YouTube Blocked in Turkey

It's true. Greek nationalists posted a video depicting Ataturk as homosexual, and a Turkish judge blocked all of Turkey's access to YouTube.

From BBC News:

The ban was imposed after prosecutors told the court that clips insulting former Turkish leader Mustafa Kemal Ataturk had appeared on the site.

According to Turkish media, there has been a "virtual war" between Greek and Turkish users of the site, with both sides posting insulting videos.

The clip prompting the ban reportedly dubbed Ataturk and Turks homosexuals.

Insulting Ataturk, the founding father of modern Turkey, or "Turkishness" is an offence which can result in a prison sentence.

The offending videos sparked a storm of complaints to YouTube and the clips were removed, but the court order goes further, blocking all access to the site.

Freedom of speech

Turkish visitors to the site are now greeted with a message in English and Turkish reading "Access to www.youtube.com site has been suspended in accordance with decision no: 2007/384 dated 06.03.2007 of Istanbul First Criminal Peace Court".

Paul Doany, the head of Turk Telecom, the country's largest telecoms company, said that they had blocked access to the site as soon as the court order came through.

"We are not in the position of saying that what YouTube did was an insult, that it was right or wrong," Mr Doany told Anatolia news agency. "A court decision was proposed to us, and we are doing what that court decision says."

Mr Doany said that for its part Turk Telecom will continue to enforce the ban as long as the order stands.

The European Union, which Turkey is hoping to join, has long called for an easing of Article 301 - the law which prevents insults to Turkish culture - arguing that the law places severe restrictions on free speech in Turkey.

About 50 writers in the country have been put on trial for allegedly contravening the rule, including Nobel prizewinner Orhan Pamuk, though most cases have eventually been dismissed by the judge.

Two Articles About Blogs

I've been pretty busy the last few days with, you know, pretending to be busy. So that I don't drop any lower on Technorati food chain (please don't hurt me, Technorati!), I'm pasting a couple blogging-related WaPo articles (please don't hurt me, WaPo!).

If the nonsense above doesn't make it obvious enough, I'm falling asleep in bed as I type this. Blame the Tylenol PM. (Please don't hurt me, Tylenol PM!)

WaPo Blogging Article #1
Harsh Words Die Hard on the Web
Law Students Feel Lasting Effects of Anonymous Attacks

She graduated Phi Beta Kappa, has published in top legal journals and completed internships at leading institutions in her field. So when the Yale law student interviewed with 16 firms for a job this summer, she was concerned that she had only four call-backs. She was stunned when she had zero offers.

Though it is difficult to prove a direct link, the woman thinks she is a victim of a new form of reputation-maligning: online postings with offensive content and personal attacks that can be stored forever and are easily accessible through a Google search.

The woman and two others interviewed by The Washington Post learned from friends that they were the subject of derogatory chats on a widely read message board on AutoAdmit, run by a third-year law student at the University of Pennsylvania and a 23-year-old insurance agent. The women spoke on the condition of anonymity because they feared retribution online.

The law-school board, one of several message boards on AutoAdmit, bills itself as "the most prestigious law school admissions discussion board in the world." It contains many useful insights on schools and firms. But there are also hundreds of chats posted by anonymous users that feature derisive statements about women, gays, blacks, Asians and Jews. In scores of messages, the users disparage individuals by name or other personally identifying information. Some of the messages included false claims about sexual activity and diseases. To the targets' dismay, the comments bubble up through the Internet into the public domain via Google's powerful search engine.

Read more....

WaPo Blogging Article #2
Jailed Man Is A Videographer And a Blogger but Is He a Journalist?

He is being cast by some journalists as a young champion of the First Amendment, jailed for taking a lonely stand against heavy-handed federal prosecutors.

Josh Wolf, a 24-year-old blogger, has spent more than six months behind bars in California -- the longest contempt-of-court term ever served by someone in the media -- for refusing to turn over a videotape he shot of a violent San Francisco demonstration against a Group of Eight summit meeting. Unless a mediation session today can break the impasse, he will likely remain imprisoned at least until the current grand jury's term expires in July.....

But Wolf's rationale for withholding the video, and refusing to testify, is less than crystal clear. There are no confidential sources involved in the case. He sold part of the tape to local television stations and posted another portion on his blog. Why, then, is he willing to give up his freedom over the remaining footage?

"It's one thing to say journalists must respect promises of confidentiality they made to their sources," says Eugene Volokh, a law professor at the University of California at Los Angeles. "It would be quite another to say journalists have a right to refuse to testify even about non-confidential sources. When something is videotaped in a public place, it's hard to see even an implied agreement of confidentiality."

Read more....

Jonathan R. Rees: How Long Must He Pollute the www?

You know the drill. Here we go again.

Jonathan R. Rees, DC's most homophobic and most failed politician, has started a new hate/libel blog. It's filled with moronic hallucinations. It will probably last for about a week and then disappear. He'll wait another month and start another one. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwnn. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Get your screenshots while you can because every libel suit needs hard evidence.

Oddly, Rees uses in the blog the term "scum" to describe his opponents. And in South Dakota, a bird emerges from a clock and sings, "Cuckoo, cuckoo."

Here's the link: Friends of Joe Sternlieb. If you've never heard of Rees -- and that's surely all but 173 members of the human race -- click on the Jonathan R. Rees tag below.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwnn. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Why Does This Word Get Applause?

I shouldn't be too shocked that, without another one of her propagandic urine-sponge "books" to promote, the attention-addicted Ann Coulter would stoop to slinging homophobic slurs at heterosexual candidates. And I'm not. Pitty the chain-smoking Ann Coulter. The tactics she employs to fill her loveless-father void grow cruder and more embarrassing by the minute.

I suppose I also shouldn't be shocked that the compassionate nutbags of the radical right guffaw and applaud at the use of the "F" word only a few months after so many from their ranks were revealed to be homosexual. And I'm not. But I wonder how much self-hatred the Closet Cases of the right can continue to enjoy.

Hmmm.... if it didn't all didn't drip with stank, it might make an interesting case for a pop psychology TV host.... Behold, Ann Coulter drawing hoots and claps, and then demurring like a truck stop hooker, upon calling John Edwards a "F--------" at the American Conservative Union's Political Action Conference.

'Zodiac'

As part of my re-entry into civilized society following a week of virus-imposed isolation, I attended a midnight showing of Zodiac last night. The film was easily the best new movie I've seen in several months -- sorry, Reno 911. Everything in Zodiac was just perfect -- alluring cinematography, dreamy acting and a script that managed to hold my attention for nearly three hours.

I've never been a David Fincher fan. As a matter of fact, I can easily produce reasons to detest every other film he directed. (Hopefully, I'm not awakening the rabid Fight Club zombies from their Sunday hangovers with that sentence.) Zodiac, I am happy to report, has inspired long-lost respect for Fincher.

Since I don't expect movie experiences to plug gaps in my comprehension of history, it bothers me little whether or not the Zodiac killer was ever correctly identified. If you're a stickler for details and expect films to impart on you the same idiosyncratic facts one can find via Google, Zodiac may not be the most efficient way to gain answers to your serial killer FAQs. Do know that the most significant unanswered question plaguing me as I exited was "How does Chloë Sevigny continue to get parts in major motion pictures." (Somewhat off topic, I think I might be in love with Mark Ruffalo.)

Speaking of efficiency, reading -- and pasting -- movie reviews is, well, a more efficient use of a sunny Sunday's time than writing them. Here's some of NY Times' praise for Zodiac:

David Fincher’s magnificently obsessive new film, “Zodiac,” tracks the story of the serial killer who left dead bodies up and down California in the 1960s and possibly the ’70s, and that of the men who tried to stop him. Set when the Age of Aquarius disappeared into the black hole of the Manson family murders, the film is at once sprawling and tightly constructed, opaque and meticulously detailed. It’s part police procedural, part monster movie, a funereal entertainment that is an unexpected repudiation of Mr. Fincher’s most famous movie, the serial-killer fiction “Seven,” as well as a testament to this cinematic savant’s gifts.

Informed by history and steeped in pulp fiction, “Zodiac” stars a trio of beauties — Jake Gyllenhaal, Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo — all at the top of their performance game and captured in out-of-sight high-definition digital by the cinematographer Harris Savides. Mr. Gyllenhaal is the sneaky star of the show as the real-life cartoonist turned writer Robert Graysmith, though he doesn’t emerge from the wings until fairly late, after the bodies and the investigations have cooled. A silky, seductive Mr. Downey plays Paul Avery, a showboating newspaper reporter who chased the killer in print, while Mr. Ruffalo struts his estimable stuff as Dave Toschi, the San Francisco police detective who taught Steve McQueen how to wear a gun in “Bullitt” and pursued Zodiac close to the ground......

Mr. Fincher made his name with “Seven,” a thriller in which the grotesquely mutilated bodies of murder victims are nothing more than lovingly designed props. Although more than capable of adding to the exploitation annals, he is up to something profoundly different in this film, which opens with the shooting of two people parked on a lovers’ lane at night, an attack that is soon followed by a squirmingly visceral knife assault on a couple during a daytime idyll. By front-loading the violence, Mr. Fincher instantly makes it clear just what kind of murderer this was — one who liked to get his hands wet — and ensures that the murders don’t become the story’s payoff, our reward for all the time stamps, geographic shifts, narrative complication and frustrated action.......

Psychology isn’t Mr. Fincher’s bag; he isn’t interested in what lies and writhes beneath, but what is right there: the visible evidence. And what beautiful evidence it is. His polished technique can leave you slack-jawed, as can his scrupulous attention to detail: the peeling walls of a derelict building in “Fight Club,” the rows of ant-size letters marching across the pages of a composition notebook in “Seven,” the bruises splashed across a woman’s arm in “Zodiac.” There is mystery in this minutiae, not just virtuosity, and maybe, to judge from reports of his painstaking process, a touch of madness. Like his detectives and journalists, Mr. Fincher seems possessed by the need to recreate reality — to revisit the scene of the crime — piece by piece.

There’s a moment early in the film when Mr. Downey stands in the Chronicle newsroom, back arched and rear gently hoisted, affecting a posture that calls to mind Gene Kelly done up as a Toulouse-Lautrec jockey in “An American in Paris.” Avery has already started his long slip-slide into boozy oblivion, abetted by toots of coke, but as he strides around the newsroom, motored by talent and self-regard, he is the guy everybody else wants to be or wants to have. Like Mr. Ruffalo’s detective, who leaves everything bobbing in his rapid wake, Mr. Downey fills the screen with life that, by its very nature, is a rebuke to the death drive embodied by the Zodiac killer. Rarely has a film with so much blood on its hands seemed so insistently alive.

Sitting by the Window on a Rainy Night

The road to wellness is slow and filled with painful hacking, a burning nose and codeine-laced cough syrup. To those (I'm using the plural, but really there was only one) who invited me to what must have been an amazing party, I apologize for not showing. I thought it best not to infect the guest of honor -- or any other guests -- with this viral slop.

A big "thank you" goes to the only two people who look forward to my usual daily blog postings: the Former Former Significant Other and the incredible, edible Beth of Garden of Ruminations.

The Former Former Significant Other sent me this today:

Harassment Law suite by a 98-year-old woman

MEXİCO (A.A)

A 98-year-old woman who lives in Irapuato, Mexico, has filed a law suite again a 48-year-old man for sexually harassing her. Manuel Martinez was supposedly helping Maria De Jesus Flores carry groceries from store to her home when he tried to kiss her and threatened to kill her when she refused to let him in.

She has four grown kids who live in the US and said, "He told me 'I have fallen in love you' and 'I can't live without you'. But this is not for me. I am 98 years old, can't get into sexual intercourse."

Beth sent these headlines today as good cheer:

Man Blames Burrito For Paralysis [Local 6]

Man Tries to Cash $50K Check From God [AP]

Pa. Principal Accused of Selling Meth [AP]

Oh, and, late tonight, someone sent a message saying that Jonathan R. Rees has started ANOTHER blog. I'll check it out when my nerves are restrengthened. Here's the link: http://corrupt1.blogspot.com/