Nov 20, 2008
Weekend Song
Stranded in Canton (Level Third): Black Oak "Blocked Memory" Arkansas
I recovered a memory (with a little help from Pillow). Evidently, last year, a few days post Thanksgiving, I saw Jim Dandy (pictured center) and Black Oak Arkansas (note the hilariously long list of former band-members) open for friends of ours at cavernous college dive, Newby's. This photograph was taken a few short months before that night; so, I think it is an accurate description of his appearance in November, 2007. I will also attach a video, because the sound of him, along with the unseemly vest and pants, account for the memory loss I experienced thereafter. This is a special instance of "Stranded in Canton," a bridge between the past and present, a document of the constant, forgettable madness that goes on down Memphis way . . .
Nov 19, 2008
I'm OK. You're OK.
This seems to be the the only available clip from Blow Out, the tragically brief (only two seasons!!) Bravo series about Los Angeles hairdresser, loveable oaf, and mad scientist, Jonathon Antin. I wanted to post the incredible bit about the packaging of his custom showerheads in boxes full of rocks, or the bit about him "blessing" New York from his hotel balcony with a smattering of his own famous hair product, silky dirt, before a particularly stressful QVC appearance, but this will do. As Winter sets in and the World gets grey (and poorer by the minute), I find I need some Jonathon Product:
Good Morn-ting--"I'm Sorry For Your Pain."
Today, after my usual preview of the Post en el tren, I went straight to the newsstand and purchased my very own copy. You see, this A.M.'s cover story is an exclusive regurgitation of the Ashley Alexandre Dupre (aka Kristen, former Emperor's Club employee and the Elliot Spitzer Hook') in-depth People Magazine interview. We have loved some political smut-ness, ever since the Starr Report (which bears rereading) was printed and reprinted for perusal by a certain thirteen-year-old Able, both furious at Bill's impeachment over "private matters" and incapable of looking away. We also have a neverending story of fascination with abuse of power and flesh bartering, reading Moll Flanders twice, planning an (unwritten) thesis on Evelyn Nesbit and Stanford White.
Clearly the aesthetics of this scandale are their own story: The American Ibiza of the Jersey Shore, Facebook, Bebe stores, layers of lipgloss, tattoos in foriegn languages, baking, bleaching, waxing, bottle service, baldness, the clear hawk-eyes of a prosecutor, the new, deeply unsubtle Eastern Seaboard--a greasy E. 79th street, a clunky Mayflower Hotel, and, in the wake of the Summer story, a gross collapse of Wall Street. That's the important bit--How do we feel about Dupre and Spitzer at this moment, after this delay, after the general election, post investment banks, post Manhattan? We are newly attuned to images of the healthy and wholesome Obama clan, an oval office where brain trusts and puppies roam, not cocktail waitresses and lusty interns. Several years ago, Dupre would have seemed the louche chaser of clubland dreams and Sarah Jessica Parker footwear; in November 2008, the girl just seems like a worker, yet another bill-payer in an over-priced world. It's an old story, but mayhaps we have new eyes . . .
Nov 18, 2008
Whistlin' Dixie
America's Next Top Model's first transgender contestant, Isis, was on the Tyra Banks Show today. Tyty brought out Isis' fellow ANTM contestant Clark, who was the most vocal about her disapproval of Isis' presence on the show. As Isis herself said, everyone is entitled to disagree with who she is, but I really want to knock Clark's teeth out. My main beef is with her constant use of the phrase "you know, I'm from the South..." when explaining why she can't wrap her mind around transgender-ness. Where the hell does she get off speaking for all of us? My biggest pet peeve is people who perpetuate stereotypes about the South being backwards and ignorant, and Clark trying to play like everyone raised south of the Mason-Dixon thinks the same way she does is doing just that.
She's from a small town in South Carolina (which, to me, is not "the South") and Southern Baptist, so I'm sure she was pretty sheltered, and maybe she really never met anyone who was "different." But my South is a place where the different and the ridiculous is more accepted and embraced than anywhere else I've ever been. Whether it's being gay, a crossdresser, or completely and totally insane (all of which describe close family friends whom I've known my whole life), the different and "eccentric" is not only accepted, but sometimes preferred. Maybe it's because we drink a lot and it's hot as hell, but down south we believe that if you're not having a good time you might as well lay down and die. That's probably why we embrace people who embrace themselves, however "different" they may be. I think Julia Sugarbaker said it best (Thanks Able!); so have a listen, sip on some small batch, and let your freak flag fly ya'll!
Barbara Say--"They shared sex, drugs, and 'Seattle Style' Rock n' Roll."
Our many thanks to the Mexican chapter of the "girl with the most cake" fanclub . . .
Post Post Post
My stars, Josh Schwartz must write Gossip Girl with the sole intention of feeding Gawker's Richard Lawson (pop critical genius--see his plaintive Hills posts--and all around sugar plum fairy) with material for his apt, fecund weekly "recap." There's really no need to watch the actual program (it's pretty tepid stuff).
Nov 17, 2008
View of a Room (Perhaps the Quietest Loud Space in All Manhattan)
J. Pierpont Morgan's Library (decorated c. 1890)
New York, New York
Love in this Club
Mark Healy: bad boy with a heart of gold, master mechanic, wrestling enthusiast. Portrayed by the dearly departed Glenn Quinn.
And...?
I've long been aware that The Purple One was a Jehovah's Witness, and I didn't care. I find the sect strange, and have never quite been able to wrap my head around what it is that they believe, but his involvement never made me think less of him. News broke today that the celibate wonder is, thanks to his faith, I'm sure, anti-"people sticking it wherever and doing it with whatever..."
Coming on the heels of the passing of Proposition 8 in California, this revelation is more than cringe-worthy. But you know what? Again, I don't care. As if by magic, Prince's hate-speak raises no ire, sets no fires. The usual anger that I would feel at someone saying something so ridiculous just isn't there, and it's kinda freaking me out. Maybe it's because he's a genius, maybe it's because he's crazier than a shit house rat in August, or maybe it's because his views most likely stem from some level of self loathing and personal shame. Who knows. Now if you all will excuse me, I'm going to go listen to "Darling Nikki" and wonder what Prince wears when he's going door to door trying to convert the wicked...
Verses
HEIRESS AND ARCHITECT
Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)
She sought the Studios, beckoning to her side
An arch-designer, for she planned to build.
He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled
In every intervolve of high and wide--
Well fit to be her guide.
“Whatever it be,”
Responded he,
With cold, clear voice, and cold, clear view,
“In true accord with prudent fashionings
For such vicissitudes as living brings,
And thwarting not the law of stable things,
That will I do.”
“Shape me,” she said, “high walls with tracery
And open ogive-work, that scent and hue
Of buds, and travelling bees, may come in through,
The note of birds, and singings of the sea,
For these are much to me.”
“An idle whim!”
Broke forth from him
Whom nought could warm to gallantries:
“Cede all these buds and birds, the zephyr’s call,
And scents, and hues, and things that falter all,
And choose as best the close and surly wall,
For winter’s freeze.”
“Then frame,” she cried, “wide fronts of crystal glass,
That I may show my laughter and my light--
Light like the sun’s by day, the stars’ by night--
Till rival heart-queens, envying, wail, ‘Alas,
Her glory!’ as they pass.”
“O maid misled!”
He sternly said,
Whose facile foresight pierced her dire;
“Where shall abide the soul when, sick of glee,
It shrinks, and hides, and prays no eye may see?
Those house them best who house for secrecy,
For you will tire.”
“A little chamber, then, with swan and dove
Ranged thickly, and engrailed with rare device
Of reds and purples, for a Paradise
Wherein my Love may greet me, I my Love,
When he shall know thereof?”
“This, too, is ill,”
He answered still,
The man who swayed her like a shade.
“An hour will come when sight of such sweet nook
Would bring a bitterness too sharp to brook,
When brighter eyes have won away his look;
For you will fade.”
Then said she faintly: “O, contrive some way--
Some narrow winding turret, quite mine own,
To reach a loft where I may grieve alone!
It is a slight thing; hence do not, I pray,
This last dear fancy slay!”
“Such winding ways
Fit not your days,”
Said he, the man of measuring eye;
“I must even fashion as my rule declares,
To wit: Give space (since life ends unawares)
To hale a coffined corpse adown the stairs;
For you will die.”
Wessex Poems (1898)
Able, get with. They still make music videos...
...and sometimes they remind you of the good ol' days when "music video" actually meant something. Gloria Steinem, eat your fucking heart out....
Nov 16, 2008
Dig Sophomore
This little lady's unavoidable first single, "I Kissed a Girl (And I Liked It)" was relatively gag-inducing, an ode to the oft-maligned culture of "Spring Break" lesbian-ish antics (for the boys). Perry's album, from which the single was culled, is titled One of the Boys, and its narrative is addled by consternating, pandering ideas about gender (pandering to 12-year-olds, of course--who respond to her days-expired Misshapes meets Fall Out Boy/Jonas Lovers twang and her Lana Turner cum Belinda Carlisle "look"). Now, I have a lot of questions about the MySpace-y world of sexual foolery that Ms. Perry inhabits, but this is not supposed to be such a critical look at her avatar/body of work.
Fact is, I'm mad about her second single, "Hot N' Cold," an utter anthem, manufactured for beachside clubs, gay bars, and gymnasiums worldwide. Though unenlightened ideas of masculine/feminine haunt some of the lyrics, the ecstatic pace simulates the giddy, sick preciousness of emotional instability, the delicious tension of opposites, the dumb rush of bad decisions, the time-honored pop musical trope of teenage love (for all ages). How can you help but be charmed by an unabashed, jittery celebration of unhealthy relationships? This must be MONSTROUS en Europa:
NeNe was only the beginning...
The A&P staff should really discuss creating an entirely new website devoted to NeNe of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame, but for now, her go-to gay, Dwight Eubanks, has his own reality show coming soon!!!! Take everything you love about J. Alexander from ANTM, add Belize from Angels in America, subtract what you didn't like from my ex-husband's first wife (yeah, that's just for me, but it holds), and hand it a pair of razor sharp scissors. I love and respect Able's love and respect for the NYC, but we best remember how downright astonishing it gets down South. Bless.
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