O Spiderman of sticky web
How did you end up in my bed?
I dreamed of this, you know, quite wet
Revealing that you're not quite het.
No Mary Jane could turn your head:
instead a fag in spandex skin,
A circumstance I revel in,
A situation, queer, indeed.
I can't believe your hairless chest
is getting my attention best.
I dreamed of this, a spider's nest
of comfy love togetherness.
A tighty white across my pecs,
You, Spiderman, made quite a mess!
Ron and I went to see District 9 on Friday. It's a compelling, believable film about the Other. Human kindness doesn't fare too well here. This is sci-fi movie making at its finest. This is an action flick with attention to story. You'll come out of the theater scratching your head and wondering is this what humanity means.
I'm in the final throes of a sinus infection. All the crud is moving south. My head is stuffed with yellow-green gunk, and I cough, pathetically. We went to see the movie, Star Trek, and I needed a throat lozenge because my mucus was stealthier than the Romulans.
Ah, the movie. You should see it. Star Trek makes no sense, but doesn't need to. It's exactly what a summer movie should be: action packed where the good guys where Star Fleet uniforms, and the bad guys have lots of tattoos, the kind your mother worried about. Just be careful who you call, "Cupcake."
If you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire, you should. This is a deeply moving film about hope and love against a backdrop of violence and unimaginable poverty. It's a fable and a metaphor for our time.
Late-breaking Square Dance Bulletin - Tim and I went to the DC Lambda Squares' community dance last night. It's theme was 50th Birthday Party. So I wore some original 50s gear that I acquired when the club danced at the Hillwood Museum and Gardens. I looked pretty good, and those fifty-year-old clothes were pretty spiffy.
Tim and I went to the Corcoran today, the last day of the Richard Avedon show. You missed it, if you missed it. Avedon captured the souls of the great ones for a couple of generations. Their ghosts come to life in this exhibition. As Tim said, "Beware of cameramen who want to take your portrait." The result isn't always a pretty picture. Why didn't Avedon ever take a picture of Annie Liebovitz? And if he did, why wasn't it hanging on the wall of the Corcoran... life's little mysteries? And why wasn't Avedon's image of Rudolph Nureyev's jewels pictured in the exhibit's catalogue? And why was Yeoman 3rd Class B. Murphy Stovie absent from the same book with his fabulous grin and his happy right hand? Does the Corcoran host a vast right-wing conspiracy that is out to censor homoerotic or gay-themed content from exhibition catalogues? Hmmmm.
Then it was on to the OAS to see an exhibition of art about the Desaparecidos. These were victims of the military dictatorships of Uruguay, Chile, Argentina, Guatemala, and El Salavador. The words somber and depressing pretty much sum it up, but the bones, the images, the stories are a grim reminder that when the state has absolute power, freedom is extinguished in violent and ugly ways. These regimes were not attempting to rehabilitate their critics. They were exterminating them. Of course, it makes me wonder who has disappeared in our own war on terror?
Finally, we ended up at the Katzen Arts Center at American University. We saw a disturbing exhibition of the work of Evri Kwong, Just Pretend Everything is Okay. Kwong's work is a polemic about our drugged out, consumerist, racist, mysogynist, violent culture. His paintings, his Sharpie doodles, are biting and satirical indictments of cultural values gone bad.
Well, after that downer, we headed back to Rockville for some hot sex, a nap, and two episodes of The Office. That was this month's attempt at culture.
I'm up "early" this Sunday morning. The fried potatoes are cooking in the cast iron skillet, and I'm waiting for my Sweetie to join me for breakfast (hmmm, think I'll have some fried potatoes). I'm listening to Weekend Edition, and life is good.
I've been consumed the last couple of weeks with creating a contact database in PHP and MySQL. I'm almost done with it (oh, maybe another two weeks...). It has completely taken over my brain. Ron has been kind with me as I prattle on about obscure PHP syntax (I just LOVE that word!) and the hidden logic of nested IF statements. He's so patient with me. That's why I cook him fried potatoes. He deserves it.
We went to see Milk yesterday. It's a very poignant and inspiring story. A friend of ours told me he didn't like the film because it was too preachy and too gay. Too gay? It's about the early gay movement and about a historical gay personality who became much larger than life. Too gay? Excuse me! We don't call films with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt as being too straight. I'm outraged! Absolutely outraged!
I just turned the potatoes. They look fabulous! The secret is to cook them on medium-low heat until they brown, about 10 minutes, without turning or stirring them. Just go and write in your blog! I use a cast-iron skillet and spray it with pan spray. I also get good results with a non-stick skillet.
Well, gotta go and set the table! Peace and Love from Bucknell Terrace!
2008 had so much promise a year ago. I was getting ready for a Caribbean trip, and I was planning on a family reunion in Yellowstone Park, and a trip to Portugal with my sister.
Along the way, my brother suffered a very serious illness, and my Mom a collapsed lung. My brother is making slow progress, and my Mom is on oxygen, but both of them are in good spirits and reasonably good health, considering. I talked with them on Christmas day, and they both sounded good.
Then there was the remarkable story of Barack Obama. I hardly knew anything about him last January. I'm looking forward to his Presidency, because I'm convinced we will see needed change in our society. His election was a defining achievement for our age. I never would have imagined a Black man being elected President. Maybe the promise of a color-blind society is not empty.
Oh, and the pot o' money suddenly got smaller. Where does all the money go? What a mess. When Grace and I were in Portugal, we were in the middle of Nowhere Portugal, and the Multibanco rejected our credit cards. Outa gas. Outa cash! It took a feverish visit with a bank officer to get the cash. Even though I didn't speak Portuguese, he clearly understood me. On the cruise, I heard whispers about the economy. But when we got home, the panic was on full bore, and has been ever since.
So I'm quietly hopeful, and holding onto my wallet as I head into 2010. I'm predicting:
Come back next year and see which of these predictions come true. If you are 100% correct, well, you MAY or may not win a prize!
I ran into an old flame of sorts today in the gym. He's a guy that I was seeing a couple of years ago. We sometimes run into each other, and today was one of those times. He's 29, and worried about turning 30. I told him that it only goes down hill from here. I enjoyed seeing him, and talking with him. I always enjoy running into my past.
This afternoon, I went over to Tim's for a romp. He played a DVD to keep me company while he prepped himself. It was almost too much excitement, or maybe it's that the older I get, the less it takes to impress. I'm not sure. I'm certainly of a certain age these days, and it becomes more apparent every day. I think I'm still in recovery from visiting my Mom....
And it's so good to be back on my turf. I went square dancing last night. I was the resident dunce, but it didn't seem to matter, and I'm very good at following directions. The routine of the gym (and the "online" experiences) remind me that I'm home doing the things I love to do. The perfect poached egg this morning fortified those sentiments. When you are retired, the little things aren't nearly so little anymore.
Ron and I are headed out to a Mug Muck restaurant social in a few minutes. We're going to Crisfield's, a top-rated local seafood restaurant that remains legendary. Having dinner with Ron at the end of the day is just the right thing to do.
Okay, I'm over my head here. Ron and I went to see this exhibit at the Hirshhorn. The exhibit ends Sunday, September 7. The show consists of seventeen installations and two films. Many of the installations are thought-provoking, a few are just weird.
Film has a peculiar power to seduce us. If we recognize a celluloid image, it is real. If we recognize a type in a film, we make an analogy to what we know, and again, the image is real. Several of the artists touch on this theme about how realism affects our perception of the film, but film creates a realism that shapes our reality, too.
Some of the standout installations are Lonely Planet, Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story!, and The Simpson Verdict. A couple of other installations that I did not have an opportunity to watch completely, but looked interesting were John and The Third Memory.
The Hirshhorn takes on challenging exhibitions. Because it is a museum of modern art, the exhibitions demand the attention and concentration of the viewer. (I was exhausted when I left the exhibit.) I'm not particularly a culture guy or an art aficionado. I also suffer from a certain mental laziness (which my readers already know about). So I found this exhibit often inaccessible. I wanted to connect with the works that I saw, but many of them had me feeling like Homer Simpson. And maybe it would have helped had I drank a couple of beers before going.
I know I won't get back to this exhibit before it closes on Sunday, and I'm sorry for that, because it had a few precious connections between me and some patterns of light playing on a screen that I'd like to explore. The Simpson Verdict is an arresting animation of the courtroom announcement of the Simpson murder trial verdict, using the actual courtroom dialogue.
Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story! is a must see for anyone who watches E! or reads true life mags about the stars. The work has a compelling movieland realism complete with ick, sex (straight and gay), bad language, aging divas, and movie critics. Incidentally Marlene and The Third Memory also have gay themes that not so subtlety inform their realism.
I came away from the exhibition feeling disappointed, and wondering what did I see? But on reflection saw more than I thought, and am wistful about what I missed.
Yesterday, Ron and I went to see Tropic Thunder. It's not for the faint-hearted. The Washington Post had a long op-ed, (Patricia Bauer) about the offensive use of the word "retard" in the movie. For the record, Ron and I knew before we went to the move that the movie was offensive to just about every group out there. The movie is over the top, and hilarious often at the expense of marginalized groups including African Americans, the cognitively impaired, and gay people.
The movie is parody. It's a parody of action movies, of the Hollywood "system," and of celebrity fame. Bauer points out that the other humor often had a foil that showed up the bad behavior of the movie character, but that the "Simple Jack" character had no such foil. That's a valid point. And the epithet, "Retard," very often hurts a person who cannot effectively defend him- or herself from the bullying.
On the flip side, the movie is rated R, so when a person attends this film, the moviegoer is presumed to be at least 17 or accompanied by an adult. The moviegoer also expects to experience themes that are inappropriate for children and younger teenagers. Humor is almost always at the expense of someone or some group. Parody is always over the top. Yes, some of the laughs are cruel in Tropic Thunder. Maybe that's a price we pay, sometimes, for art.
Baba Ghanouj, Baigan Bharta, who doesn't like eggplant? Tonight I fixed some Eggplant Parmesan, although it didn't have any parmesan cheese in it.
I really felt the need to cook today, so after breakfast at the Silver Diner, Ron and I headed out to Whole Foods so that I could get some vegetables. I saw and eggplant and fell in love (again).
I loaded up on some buffalo mozzarella, and some parmano, too. Then we headed up to Tim's because he had been to a farmers market and had purchased me some vine ripened tomatoes.
This afternoon (after my gym workout), I prepared a tomato sauce complete with onions, peppers, carrots, celery, canned tomatoes, and some secret herbs and spices. After it had cooked down a bit, I took it off the stove, and let it sit while Ron and I headed off to see Tropic Thunder (the funniest movie I've seen in a long time).
When we got back home, I sliced the eggplant, brushed the side of each slice with olive oil, and fried them in a medium-high skillet until the slices were browned and soft. I put some tomato sauce in the bottom of a baking dish, covered it with the eggplant, then sliced the vine-ripened tomatoes on top of the eggplant, added slices of the mozzarella cheese, ladled on a little tomato sauce, sprinkled on a quarter pound of shredded cheese, and finished with some bread crumbs. I baked it at 350ºF for 30 minutes.
Perry, Ron, and I pretty much demolished it. But there is enough for leftovers, maybe for Monday lunch, if Ron doesn't tuck it away first.
Okay, it's cute. Wall-E is another adorable Disney/Pixar film that has a lovable lead and some positively startling animation. I'm not going to spoil the story, so you can read this review with confidence that I won't reveal the ending, except to say that love conquers all.
Even though this is a kiddie flick, I believe that the story should have presented a clearer, more factual vision of the future on which the movie is premised. This movie is science fiction, but it's important to present that fiction in a plausible way, and certainly within this love story, the narrative could have included a lot more science, and a lot less implausible unscientific crap that many a six or eight year-old will carry into school. In fact, the woeful state of our education system is such that many of the adults viewing the film won't know the fact from the fiction.
Here are some of the biggest bloopers: Scraps of sheets of paper are blowing in the wind. Consider that hundreds of years after earth has been abandoned, where is all of this paper coming from? Within weeks of abandonment, this paper would begin to break down and be absorbed into the environment. I don't think the bacteria that break down organic material are going to disappear.
There's that pesky cockroach. It's alive and well. How come the robot from the mother ship didn't detect it? Presumably, the robot was looking for DNA, and the cockroach is full of that.
How did the plant that the robot ultimately discover survive in what looks like a refrigerator all these (700) years? That same plant gets thrown outside a space hatch into the cold vastness of outer space, but it continues to survive. All I can say is, "Kids, don't try this at home, or on the space shuttle."
Perhaps the most disturbing scene for me was the space ship disgorging its waste into space. Mind you, this ship had been out in space for 700 years, but was profligately discarding "waste" rather than recycling everything. After all, that space ship is a closed system, and discarding anything means that it has less to work with. That Waste Chute should have been relabled "Recycling Chute."
Okay, there's a hyper-jump in there, too, but we've seen that on Star Trek. I liked the scenes of outer space. They captured on the screen its vastness and beauty. I enjoyed Wall-E's ride into space. Again, it's improbable, but the plucky little robot held on for the ride, and for true love. I was disappointed in his love interest. She wasn't nearly as lovable and endearing as that hardworking, trash-hauling, bighearted, bug-eyed Wall-E. You gotta love 'im!
Ron and I went to see Iron Man yesterday. Robert Downey, Jr. is the best badboy with a heart of gold. Check out Mr. Iron Man, and imagine having sex with his tool! This is so beyond geek. When Tony Stark suited up, well, I had a virtual moment. This guy is so hot, so sleek, and designer colors, too. And so gay. Did I say gay?
Let me count the ways: he had a distant father. He plays with toys that are long, slender, and deliver a payload. His best friend wears a uniform. He has commitment issues with women (although the sex scene, while rather hot was disappointingly short). The hair on the back of Tony's head curls counter-clockwise (just kidding).
Gwyneth Paltrow should win an Oscar for her portrayal of Pepper Potts. She delivers the movie's best lines. She is strong, vulnerable, smart, and unsure. Pepper and Tony are twins separated at birth, but reunited in life. Downey and Paltrow have some great chemistry. It's a treat to see them on the screen together.
This is a wonderful summer film. I recommend it for gay men everywhere. I think lesbians would like this film, too, because Pepper is not difficult to look at. The movie delivers a message, too: war is evil, and the world has evil men who want power for their own ends. Tony is transformed in the movie from an irresponsible (but brilliant) playboy to a patriot. And the Iron Man, well, he's just cool through and through.
Into the Wild is the story of a driven, emotionally immature college graduate who is seeking to expiate the sins of his parents in an ill-fated Alaskan adventure. Emile Hirsch plays the character, Chris McCandless, a lost soul on the road looking for something, creating a myth.
I liked this movie. It's a raw film that captures the arrogance, innocence, and tragic inexperience of youth. Chris's hubris is not letting go of a poisonous past, while fleeing the people who really love him. Chris has a dream, a quest that seduces him. Part of growing older is gaining the experience to know that we don't have to live our dreams. We can be less than our dreams - a discovery Chris makes too late.
Hal Holbrook plays the character, Ron Franz, an old retired army guy who is living a reclusive, fearful life. Chris happens into Ron's life and changes it. Holbrook's performance is masterful and poignant, and is the humane, loving heart of the movie.
Orgazmo (1997) is a sophomoric farce starring Trey Parker as Joe Young, a Mormon missionary cum inconvenient porn star, and Dian Bachar as Ben Chapleski. Through various plot twists, Joe ends up starring in a porn flick as Orgazmo, a sexual superhero with Ben playing Choda Boy, his heroic sidekick.
The plot is contrived, the performances are over the top, this is a good film to watch with beer and popcorn. I really liked this film. It manages to skewer the Mormons, Hollywood, and pornography in one convenient DVD.
Its portrayals should not be mistaken as literary truths. The film takes a lot of license with the facts (e.g. conflating Catholic iconography with Mormon practice), but gets at some deeper truths about the nature of belief, desire, and fame. I want Choda Boy's helmet. I loved the costumes, and I'd really like to try out for the part of "Stunt Cock." P.S. This film is rated NC-17 and is offensive to just about any audience.
Lots of stuff to review here: an (old) HBO series, a couple of movies, and a restaurant! I'll take them one at a time.
Okay, I've only seen the first two episodes of Big Love, but I'm already hooked. The characters are, perhaps, a wee bit overdrawn, but that makes for a good soap opera. I'm amazed at the research that went into this series. It uses the authentic language and customs of the LDS Church, and of the LDS Fundamentalists. I'll let you know what I think when I have a few more episodes under my belt.
Next up is the movie, The Namesake. This movie took me back to my boyhood when my parents befriended many an Indian college student at the University of Idaho. The film is beautifully done. The three big performances are Tabu as Ashima, the mother; Irrfan Khan as Ashoke, the father; and Kal Penn as Gogol, the son. Their story is about the immigrant experience, the American Dream, and a search for authenticity in New Jersey. Mira Nair directed this film. This is a wonderful drama. You just have to love those Bengalis!
The other recent movie we've seen (Netflix has revolutionized our life in the bedroom) is The Illusionist. I groaned when Ron said this film was on our list. I had seen a preview, and thought, "No way." I was wrong. I was completely taken in by the performances of Edward Norton, Paul Giamatti and Jessica Biel. If you like mystery, madness, and majesty, this may be your cup of tea.
Finally, on to restaurants. The boys and I went out to Old Europe in Georgetown last night to celebrate my birthday. The food was excellent, but the service was very slow. Let me tell you, a bratwurst in your belly takes care of a lot of things. The beer is chilled, so don't expect the continental tradition of simply cold beer. I'll go back, but not for my next birthday.
Tim and I just watched Anthony Asquith's 1952 film adaptation of The Importance of Being Earnest. Oscar Wilde really was a genius. This witty comedy skewers manners, class, and church in just about equal measure. It's a pleasure to see what Wilde created from a truly awful pun. If all homosexuals could be so talented, oh what a world it would be!
The film, Get Real, paints a realistic, and bleak picture of growing up gay in high school. Steven knows he's gay, and he's bullied in his school because classmates perceive he is gay. No place is safe for him, at school or at home. The plot is predictable, but in its complications, Stephen eventually ends us in a sexual romance with one of his classmates, a popular athlete, John. The film has a great sense of the teenage experience, its angst, desperate love, fear of discovery, and violence.
More than that, the film feels realistic. It has the usual stock characters (the bully, the understanding Mom, and the flipped out Dad, the fat girl next door), but the two main characters are played for real. I remember being in the adolescent closet, navigating through a hostile time and place. I remember hiding behind a personality that wasn't really me. The film portrayed those feelings in a nuanced and truthful way.
Being a gay adolescent means being stigmatized. The film captures the (violent) closet, the ostracism, and the head-over-heels delight of teenage star-crossed love.
Ron and I went to the movies this afternoon. You should see Charlie Wilson's War (if you aren't offended by the word, "fuck"). It's an interesting political thriller and war movie all rolled into one. Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman (no Truman Capote!) give great performances that move the film along at a crisp pace. The biggest criticism I have is that some of the dialogue is muffled or lost.
After seeing the movie, check out Joanne Herring's website. The rich live differently than you and I, and she has way too much money to spend on her pet causes, like U.S. foreign policy.
I'm listening to the radio, hearing news of unrest in Pakistan caused by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. It's an eerie counterpoint to the film, Charlie Wilson's War. The news also reported a new Bin Laden tape. The airwaves are full of Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan.
Ron and I went to see Charlie Wilson's War today. It's déjà vu all over again. The film is a fascinating tale of the life of the rich, the life of the hopeless, and the life of our elected officials. Many scenes in the movie are priceless, including the opening footage showing a naked Congressman in a hottub full of Las Vegas showgirls, and the grilling of the same Congressman by the President of Pakistan and two senior Pakistani officials.
Tom Hanks plays Congressman "Good Time" Charlie Wilson. Julia Roberts plays Texas socialite Joanne Herring. (Check out her web site!) Phillip Seymour Hoffman plays CIA operative Gust Avrakotos. The acting is believable, and the movie, for all of its serious themes, is more a comedy than a historical recounting. It ends up, though, a sobering reminder of how a determined small group of people can (and do) change history, people who are completely unbeholden to the rest of us.
Unintended consequences?
Ron and I have recently seen a whole slew of movie classics. It's been quite a cinematic education for us. Last night, we watch To Kill a Mockingbird. Gregory Peck is larger than life in this film. I've heard of his performance most of my life. It is one of Hollywood's best. I was surprised how atmospheric the movie is, and how big a role the three children play. It neatly frames the trial.
As a statement about racial prejudice and the miscarriage of Southern justice, the film could not have been a better propaganda piece. I think it's effective because it never overplays the scenes. The story is always seen from Scout's perspective, which leaves us a dispassionate observer watching passionate (hateful) people, then asking her father the important questions.
I've been manufacturing holiday cards today. I've been printing out lots of notecards, too. I ran through my color ink cartridge in less than a week. Oh well. It's that time of year, and I'm semi-organized. All I need to do is get the necessary packaging and some postage, then I'll be set.
Not much to report on the gay front. We had a square dance on Saturday, and I looked gay, at least festive. I wish more were happening on the gay front, but it's been pretty quiet, mainly because Ron pulled out his back on Thursday. I should not complain. So, less sex, more cooking. I guess that's okay. We did see To Kill a Mockingbird last night. It was the first time for both of us.
