Ain't no need to be the victim of obsession

I've wanted to know who performs this song for so long (well, since about November of '05). I always thought it would be kind of useless to ask here on my blog. I just play the whole mix for music enthusiasts and ask casually when the final track comes on, "Do you have any idea who this is?" Invariably the answer is nope.

It is, in my mind, one of those perfect tracks. The strings sit far enough back that you only fleetingly think of disco. The lyrics are brilliant. I don't know why, but songs about infatuation have always resonated with me--from The Carpenter's "Superstar" to Sarach McLachlan's "Possession". Really, though, this song is about the absolutely perfect percussion (highlighted by the synth bassline), especially by the time we get to verse.

So, now that I've found like, 2 of the best music bloggers on the 'sphere (and Seattlites to boot), I'm offering it up to them. Maybe their ridiculously deep crates, virtual or otherwise, contains this song.
Sean, Terry, any ideas?

Mystery Track

Oh, if you haven't checked out their blogs, do so RIGHT NOW! There's SO much great music on both of them. Sean has 2 mixes on his site that have been getting tons of play at the house lately. Everyone I've met in the past month has been forced to listen to Man 2 Man's "Male Stripper." That's one of those perfect, kitschy tracks that doesn't have tons of ideas, but the ones that it does have sit just right.

One last thing, you guys do know that you can download the admittedly paltry selection of tunes from the sidebar, right? I'll try to throw more stuff in there from time to time. Even if it is stuff like a cover of St. Elmo's Fire and an old Olivia Newton-John track. If you hover over the track, it will give you the details. There's also a down arrow that you can click on to d/l.

That is all. Lovely Thursday to each of you.

The Bronx is up and the Battery's down

I'm so glad I have a good friend in New York who lets me stink up her pad for a couple days a year. It makes visiting New York so much more affordable. I can't imagine, for example, staying in New Jersey and bussing into the city every morning. That would be so gauche.


I flew in on JetBlue which is still my airline of choice. I left right after work and landed around 10:30 PM New York time. Each seat has their own DirecTV, so I watched 30 Rock and The Office as we landed. First night in the city consisted of a Schnack courtesy of Tennille's knowledge, and sleep courtesy of Tennille's aero bed.


My first full day in the city, I visited my company's office on 6th Ave. They were really nice and very modern. I spent about an hour talking to people with whom I had only ever corresponded via e-mail. Then I went shopping. Nowhere too exciting--just H&M. Seattle will finally have ours in the spring. Then I grabbed some lunch at Better Burger. The burger was good--not great what I really enjoyed was the flavored ketchups. They had a curry flavored one and my favorite, a cajun flavored one. Then I went back to Brooklyn for a disco nap.



That night Tennille's friends Keith and Neil met us for drinks and dinner. You can't go to the first bar we went to because that night was its final night. Plus, I don't remember the name. Ledi maybe. Anyway, then it was off for Indian food at the Brick Lane Curry House. I love me some Indian food. I better burn going in and coming out, if you catch my drift. This is the place to go for that kind of food, apparently. They have a Phaal that they make you give a verbal disclaimer freeing them from any physical or emotional damage. I was feeling dangerous, but I couldn't do it. Instead, I got a vindaloo that I wanted to be *spicy*. Instead it was tepid. That's ok, though, it was really good--as were the fried cauliflower appetizer things.



Keith and Neil couldn't hang, so Tennille and I headed to the Annex for Ruff Club. Upstairs they were playing dance music bangers and downstairs was all your favorite tracks from the 80's. I liked the vibe of the place. Or, more accurately, it was a Friday night and the people there weren't pissing me off.



Saturday was the big day. The day intended for drinking. And drink we did. I was supposed to meet Glenn at Toast, but I don't know how to ride the subway and after a couple missed attempts, we eventually met by Green Papaya way up north.



Glenn was almost entirely how I had imagined him. He took me to Beard Papa's where we had vanilla cream puffs and a savory one that had bacon and eggs. Delish. Then it was to Chickpea for our real lunch. Once again, delightful. Topics of conversation ranged from lasik eye surgery to Battlestar Galactica, New York to Hawaii. Glenn is just as affable as his blog would lead you to believe and I'm so glad he had time to waste with me.


We met up with Jeff, whom I had never met but frequently read, and Tennille at the Film Archive for the premiere of Skull and Bones. I thought the movie was really funny if not a little choppy. It follows in the long line of queer cinema from movies like Sins of the Fleshapoids to Hey, Happy! Lots of its subject matter is there to make your squirm, and you probably would be if you weren't laughing at the non-existent production values. Expect a more thorough review soon.

The four of us attended the after party at the Urge across the street. Jeff had me in stitches. Part of the conversation went like this:

Jeff: We met at a Lebanese restaurant.

Me: A lesbian restaurant? Really? I can't even imagine what they serve there.

Jeff: (waits a beat) Tacos.

Glenn had a party to attend so he had to leave, but the three of us remaining continued our drinking binge. Tom and Jerry's was the next stop. Tennille stole a rubber rat from the Halloween decorations. We played Candyland and we got a pizza from Two Boots. Damn, that was some good pizza.
Two of Jeff's friends met us there. Turns out, one of them writes a blog--and I read it on a regular basis. Hey George!
Tennille and I parted ways with the gays--they were headed to the Gay and Lesbian Center for a dance and we were headed to the village for pedicures. 'Cause isn't that what you do when you've had too much to drink?

Sarah, my pedicurist was amazing. She called me crazy multiple times and asked if I was sleepless in Seattle. Then as a special present to me, she painted hearts on my big toes. Check it.

A couple more bars and finally we headed back to Brooklyn to hear Keith spin a lovely set at Sputnik. We almost made it back to Tennille's but had to stop at Moonshine first. You remember Moonshine? Its where I was raped by bulldogs on my last visit. It provided our final drinks for the (ahem) early morning and we had late night bites delievered there.
I know we were drunk because there were tears.

So, the only thing we HAD to do the whole time was go to Xanadu on Sunday. Ah, a hungover matinee performace. I can't think of a better show to see while battling the urge to hurl and sweating out the previous day's drinking than Xanadu.
It was everything that I hope a musical is--funny, short (no intermission), sing-along-able, and starring an unbearably dreamy guy in cutoffs (and later satin hotpants). A little about Cheyenne Jackson, the hunky lead, he got his acting start right here in Seattle.
And if you think that you're above Xanadu, both The New Yorker and the New York Times loved it.
When I saw it, I kept thinking how Jimbo reacted to the show. Truthfully, I can't believe he liked it, but I'm glad he did.

After the show, we headed back to Brooklyn for a quiet night of recovery. Of course, as with most trips to New York, it wasn't complete until I randomly ran into an old friend. This time, it was Edward.

Don't my toes look pretty?


They're still painted like that and when I took my socks off at the gym the other day, I was mortified. I think everyone in the locker room noticed (how pretty I am).

Toward the end

On my flight home from Texas, I sat in the window seat with a middle-aged woman in the center seat and a seventh grade girl in the aisle seat.

I was tired. I knew I would be sleeping the entire flight so I thought I would be kind and let the little girl use my DS. Advance Wars: Dual Strike. Nope. Brain Age. No stylus. Tetris. Kids today don't get Tetris. That left Diddy Kong Racing.

I put in the cartridge and handed the device over.

She excitedly took it and brandished it to her jealous older brother across the aisle.

The game started and my save game character came up on the screen: Ball Sack.

(more to come)

The wheels are in motion

Ok, I'm off like a prom dress.

Who knows if I'll get bored enough in Texas to take the time to post. I'm sure I'll have lots of good stories from New York. Tennille and I will be seeing Xanadu on Sunday. I'll be meeting up with Glenn on Saturday. Hopefully I'll get to see this film that QTA pointed me to.

Also, dancing w/ robots on Saturday.

I promise I'll get you an I <3>

Conversations at 8508

How many movies has Tom Cruise worn a headset?

Rain Man
Top Gun
Days of Thunder
Jerry Maguire
Mission: Impossible
Mission: Impossible 2
Mission: Impossible 3
Minority Report
Magnolia

People all over the world

Before you read this post, you need to press play--


I was disappointed that there weren't more house heads at the movie on Saturday night--maybe I didn't do a good enough job of publicizing it. Maybe more would have come if they had known that the much-loved Lady D was one of the interview subjects.

The film felt a bit schizophrenic,--walking the line between a promotional video for the label and a film about the early days of the AIDS epidemic in New York--but hearing some of the stories as told by the people who were there was pretty amazing.

Besides one quick snippet from a DJ at the Paradise Garage, the film glosses over the drug aspect of disco culture. I think that really does a disservice to re-creating the environment in which this music was born, but really the film is more interested in the chunks of vinyl put out on West End than it is in establishing the milieu of the disco scene. In this glossing over the drug aspect, the filmmakers also fail to tell the audience that Larry Levan died, essentially, from his drug addiction. Because the film bounces back and forth between Mel Cheren's charitable donations to Gay Men's Health Crisis and life at the Paradise Garage, it almost seems that Larry died of AIDS.

What this film does best is extol the virtues of the hugely influential label. Jellybean Benitez and Junior Vasquez both come off as narcissists--the former from his snobbery and "I was there" attitude, the latter in his story of how he felt that Larry passed the torch to him. The rest of the interviewees seem to have a genuine affection for the tracks. Judy Russell is used to hilarious comedic effect, only getting quick statements like, "That track was hot," and, let me tell you, she liked all the tracks--except Heartbeat.

One thing that the film really got me thinking about, and I really hope that someone out there can comment on this, was the Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park on July 12, 1979. Randy Jones, the cowboy from the Village People, makes the contention that the disco backlash was actually based in homophobia and racism. I would also like to add classism to that mix, but mainly the first two. It kinda blew my mind. I mean, I've seen footage from that night lots of times (including in the fine film The Last Days of Disco), but never did it occur to me that racism and homophobia could be the underpinnings of the rage from that night.

Anyway, the film is worth your time. And if any of you who lived through the disco heyday (ahem, Earl) or who have a degree or two in history (ahem, GayProf) would care to expound on disco and its backlash which culminated in Disco Demoltion, it would be much appreciated!

Is it all over my face?

The Seattle Lesbian and Gay Film Festival kicks off tonight with The Walker starring Woody Harrelson and a bevy of older beauties. This year's festival is fairly comprehensive and very impressive.
I, however, am only making it a point to see one film--The Godfather of Disco. Based on Mel Cheren's autobiography, My Life and the Paradise Garage: Keep on Dancin', the film's cast reads like a who's who of dance music--and it should; Mel's label, West End Records, defined the sound of disco with tracks like "Don't Make Me Wait," and "Is It All Over My Face."
I guess Mel lived a bit of a double life, but all of that came to an end as the age of HIV/AIDS devastated the world he created. Mel stepped firmly out of the closet to battle homophobia and the disease in the mid-80's.
There is a feeling I get when I hear a West End track. Its hard to explain, and I've had this conversation with a couple people before. Its like being nostalgic for something that you've never experienced--and kind of holding this idyllic model in your mind and allowing that fantasy to supplant whatever actual reality is there. So I'm looking forward to this film giving me more context for these amazing, genre-defining tracks. You should go, too.
Here's the trailer:


And, just for fun, a track that Tim Curry sings (maybe even wrote) about the legendary Paradise Garage. And, even better, Loose Joints "Is It All Over My Face."

A perfect storm

Matt and I discussed who we thought would be at the show on our bus ride to Capitol Hill. Bill had already bailed. Matt's friend Jonathan wasn't going to make it and my friend Jonathan is in some fly-over state. It was a Monday night and the cover was close to $20 bucks--both deterrents in our minds.

Even though Trentemoller's reach is pretty broad, we were convinced the club would be sparse. The Seattle hard core, some enthusiasts up from Portland, but certainly not a packed venue in our minds.

Small venue, weeknight. That's my speed. Well, it was my speed sometime before the graveyard took hold of me.

Regardless, we got to the club about an hour after the doors were open and there were already a handful of people.

Abstract Soul was opening with a 2 hour set--from 9 to 11 and were pretty much tearing it up. The played Gui Barato, Booka Shade, and all kinds of crunchy, acid-y bass. By the time they left the stage, the place was packed--not uncomfortably so, but definitely two times more people than I expected. I even ran into a guy I know who lives in Portland, go figure.

Anders Trentemoller took the stage w/ a bassist and a drummer. They laid the smack down and everyone had a great time. It was such an interesting cross-section of people. There were ravers and hippies and hipsters and househeads, and everyone was there to get down. Even the frat-types didn't douche it up. This is the high water mark that I needed for the year. I danced my ass off and went to work late, a sweaty mess.

So as 2008, my year of nothing approaches, I will have a very fond memory of a good show from ought seven.

All Melville all weekend

This past weekend I watched:



And this:



And this:


Tonight I'm going to hear this:

Anthony Glycolic Face Cleanser

Yes, I'm one of the 'mos who loves product. Sue me.

I don't obsess about it or anything, but I find that most grooming products purchased in drug stores truly are subpar to the crazy, face-burning, entirely too expensive kinds purchased at specialty stores, on-line, or at department stores.

I think my . . . fondness for cleansing products started with Kiehl's. I consider their Ultimate Brushless Shave Cream the marijuana of cleansing products. The arches of its gateway has lead to Zirh and Anthony with H20+ looming on the horizon.

So, I figured I'd start a series about all those products that line my medicine cabinet (drawer).

The first in the series is Anthony Glycolic Face Cleanser.

I got this product in a shave kit that also contained Pre Shave Oil, Shave Cream, and After Shave Balm. The whole reason I got it was because my dopp kit was shot and I wanted a new one, plus I had heard some good things about Anthony.

The Glycolic Face Cleanser is an interesting product. Its taken me a while to figure out how to incorporate it into my routine. It is a light, silky liquid that does not foam up. Its consistency reminds me of a night face cream or watery lotion. It is easy to remove because of this consistency, and I use it when I'm going to go out (to work, choir practice, etc.) but won't be taking a shower for while.

You can feel it tingle a bit as you rub it around your face. Your skin really will be squeaky clean when you're rinsing the cleanser off. The cleanser is also fragarance free which adds to this product's fresh clean.

The makers recommend using before a shave. I don't use it for that purpose. Even though it has glycolic acid (the smallest of the alpha hydroxy acids), it lacks the depth of clean that I require before a shave. Like I said, I use it more for a waking-up-late, running-out-the-door, just-have-time-to-wash-my-face, or I use it on when I feel like all those other heavy cleansers that I use have burned away most of my epidermis.

The product design is ok, but I don't like people's names on product (you won't catch me in Victoria's Secret). Plus, Anthony sounds so fey and I like my cleansing products to be a bit more masculine. Does that sound gay?

It retails for $18 bucks and I have a feeling that my bottle will last 5 or 6 months, so I recommend it.

The bass in review

Because some anonymous commenter wants to know my take on the whole Decibel thing . . .

I think last year set the bar too high. (See here.)

I was not blown away by anyone's set. There wasn't a night that I had to be pried off the dance floor. Call it old age, but truthfully I felt that the acts were sub-par, and the whole festival could have been a lot tighter.

Thursday night, I waited in line for 20 minutes after going to the front to see if it was will call or to purchase, apparently it was both. So when I got to the front, I gave the ticket girl my name and she asked if I was on the TicketsWest list or the club list. "I don't know," I told her, "I bought a festival pass."

"Oh," she said, "You'll have to go to the Artificial Limb Company. That's where you get your festival wristband." Super. Six blocks away and I was already missing some of Simian Mobile Disco's set. So all the adrenaline and anticipation that had been building in the cab ride and waiting in line hearing the fat bass escape from the club quickly turned to irritation.

Have you ever noticed when you're excited about something, and then something else postpones the payoff, that your irritation is amplified? Yeah. Well, at least my anger propelled me up the street quicklier.

As I left the Artificial Limb Company with my bracelet, I ran into Donte and Svetlana. Their presence reinvigorated my adrenaline. So I arrived to hear the last half hour or so of Simian Mobile Disco's set--although they did play one of my least favorite songs to hear out, Laid Back's "Ride the White Horse." Their set was fun and party oriented. I danced a ton. I got really, really sweaty.

By the time Switch took the stage, I had already resigned myself to heading in to work. So I stood by the sidelines and enjoyed what he was playing. It wasn't nearly as ass-heavy as Simian Mobile Disco, and from what I could tell, the tracks were all his own, but it was decent.

Friday night I camped at Chop Suey for Jacob London and DJ Heather. I thought both sets were good. Jacob London took a techier approach than I was expecting and Heather brought her well-branded sound.

Saturday was Jerry Abstract, Robert Babicz, 3 Channels and Speedy J. We left before Speedy J even took the stage. Babicz set was mind numbing. He rode the effects processor like a hippie--a hippe in a Venom t-shirt. 3 Channels had not one, but two technical difficulties that stopped the party dead in its tracks. After two other nights of dancing, I just couldn't hang for Speedy J.

My other issue was with the "VIP" room for Neumo's. Where is it? Upstairs? In Moe's bar? These are the sorts of things that I paid for with my 4 day pass, but I didn't even get an email to tell me where things were or how to access them. I would really liked to have heard Jeff Samuel's set, but I didn't know how to find him.

I will tell you that next year I won't be buying a pass. I'll be cherry picking the acts I want to see and I won't make myself exhausted. I hope next year they bring some better acts.

Sean Horton, the guy who runs DecFest, is bringing Trentemoller here on October 8th. I'm sure his show will be far and away better than all the acts at this year's Decibel Fest.

Carry me

I haven't gotten it yet, but I already love it.
"Get a new bag" has been on my to do list for a very, very long time.
I've had the same Gap messenger for at least five years. It is old and and the plastic in the ID case is warped and the old girl just needs to be put down. I haven't been holding onto it for any reason other than I haven't been able to find something I like--and there's no way in hell I'm spending more than a hundred bones on a new one.
Sure, there's a couple Tumis that are ok (and way too expensive). I even considered an Armani Exchange tote. This morning, I found a Puma bag that I liked well enough, so I placed it in the virtual cart and at the bottom of the screen was thumbnail for the Oxio Freedomer.
Finally after literally years of nearly buying something, I made the commitment. She's a beauty--and well under the hundred buck limit.

I Get It, I Got It, You Know Its Good

Tonight begins the crazy four night extravaganza that is the Decibel Festival. This is the fourth year of the electronic music festival, and I'm more than a bit excited.

The lineup, for me, will look something like this--

Tonight

Simian Mobile Disco

Switch

Diplo

Tomorrow

Jacob London

DJ Heather

Saturday

Harold Budd & Robin Guthrie

Jerry Abstract

Mike Shannon

Speedy J

Jeff Samuel

Sunday

Italoboyz

Claude von Stroke

I was going to have a t-shirt made that said, "Its the Beat!" or have the graphic of a hotdog for tonight's show, but as usual, I procrastinated.

Regardless, I will be dancing, a whole, whole bunch.

Stay tuned for silly visuals . . .

In other news, the list of 100 Great Non-English films was posted on this site.

There are a few surprises. City of God appearing so high on the list really baffled me (especially above my beloved Cocteau), but really its no surprise to find almost the entire oeuvre of Kurasawa, Truffaut, Bergman, and Fellini. I pretty much detest Y Tu Mama Tambien and Amores Perros, so their inclusion is a huge gift, in my opinion. Interesting that Run, Lola, Run made the list at all. I find De Sica and the neorealists to be unbearably boring--Bicycle Thieves in particular I find to be an arduous affair.

If you want to know my take on everyone's number one foreign film, read here.

Dogs are barkin'

Went hiking Saturday morning.
Shot a cover for our upcoming folk album.

Big thanks to Earl and Bucko for letting us tag along.

Watched Perfume on Friday. It was ok. I just couldn't hook into the tone.

Watched the pilot for the new Bionic Woman. It is many layers of crappy.

Played the game on Saturday night. My boyfriend rules the universe.

Monday. Really? Yuck.

Have I told you lately

I love that every Friday Amazon sends me a list of movies that I can download directly to my Tivo box for 99 cents. I think that's pretty awesome. Sure, most of the movies have been crap, but for a buck--and I don't have to go to Blockbuster--can't be beat.

So far we've done TMNT, Zodiac, Hot Fuzz, and, um, a couple I can't recall right now.

For tonight, Perfume and the pilot for NBC's Bionic Woman (which was free).

I am also loving Palermo's. Phil and I stopped in for lunch a couple Saturdays ago. It was great, but what I really love is free delivery and ordering on-line. Their lasagna comes in one of those thick heavy duty foil containers with a cardboard top. Its actually baked in that container and the level of crispiness that the cheese along the edge gets is all kinds of perfect. Their polpette is prepared similarly and is equally as satisfying--especially if you're in the mood for balls.

Oh, and delivery is wikkid hella fast.

Oh, and will everyone please start saving some scratch to buy my this for Christmas? Yes, I realize I don't need it by any stretch of the imagination, but its so cool! And so cool-looking!

Have a great weekend, I'll be hiking. And yes, gayming.

Threadbare

Anyone else going to Thread this Sunday?
Seems like it would be right up Andrew and Bill's respective alleys.
50% off denim sounds good.
Still, its on Sunday and I'm hiking on Saturday with Earl, so chances are I'll skip it.
If you go, though, please let me know how it is.


Also, there's a pre-party tonight at Havana. If you're interested in hearing Wesley Holmes play for free, email me and I'll shoot you the address you use to get on the list.

I will rule the universe

Ok, let's get something clear. While I appreciate your concern for Janice, it probably makes her skin crawl. Especially since she (most likely) didn't have anything too wrong other than a case of the blues. Then she went to Bumbershoot and got bumber-roughed-up which I'm sure added frustration and aggravation to said malaise.

So I was just being a friend. We've known each other for many (many, many) years and that's what friends do. You say, "Hey friend, sorry you're blue, aren't unicorns cool?"

And then your friend says, "Thanks for trying to cheer me up."

So, even though I haven't spoken to Janice in over a week, I'm sure we'll get together in the not-too-distant future to commiserate over a cup'a'joe.

Ok. So. That's out of the way.

What're my weekend plans? Well, earlier in the week, Matthew had the wise idea of solidifying our stranglehold as kings of homebound nerds. So he went out and bought an $80 board game.

Its called Twilight Imperium and it looks to be uber-nerdy. So there will be a lot of going over the 44-page rule book tonight. And tomorrow will be the first official game. I think that Matt, Phil and I will be the only players. That's ok, that allows me the luxury of interpreting the rules to say, "Jeremy rules the universe."

Average playtime is 4-6 hours. Sweet.
The game should be an on-going thing. Like "the Saturday night" thing or something. Next year is my year of "buckling down," and attempting to build up a chunk of money for a downpayment on a place. So having a long-standing, stay at home diversion could be an excellent way of passing the time. We'd also love to have a rotating cast of nerds come join us, so hit me up if you're interested.

Sunday I'll be initiating the new members of the chorus. Its a simple task. Their handlers come in, trot them around in a circle. I cup their balls and check their teeth, then pick a best in show. Actually, I'll just be relaying my experiences from my first year in the chorus.

I'm still working on OKDJ 11. I don't know what the deal is. I get started with it, then just hate it and scrap it. Check back, though. It could be up as early as next week.

Oh, but you want to know what tracks are on it? Here's a sample:

Simian Mobile Disco - It's the Beat

Giorgio Moroder - From Here to Eternity

Simian Mobile Disco is opening the Decibel Festival on September 20th.

Cheering Up Janice, Part the Second

I called and sang "True Colors" into her voice mail.
I called and sang "I Just Called to Say I Love You" into her voice mail.
Now, she is bruised.

I know what will cheer her up! Unicorns! Heyyy!

Cheering up Janice

I don't know why the bug butt biting video didn't cheer Janice up, but when I saw this (overly) precious video, she was the first person I thought of.



Hope you're cheerier soon!

Super-bored

I realize that I'm like the only person on the planet to think Superbad is pretty boring. So I feel the need to justify myself. As far as teen(ish) comedies go, I think it falls far behind Clueless, Animal House, Fast Times at Ridgmont High, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sixteen Candles and Three O'Clock High; however, it is superior to Porky's and American Pie (and a whole slough of others that don't need mentioning).

First of all, I thought the setup for the film was lame--must get alcohol for party to impress girls. Secondly, the conflict that the two leads have--Cera's character admitting that he would be rooming with Fogle in college--was unbelievable. The only reason it had any heft was because tertiary characters kept drilling it into our brains. The first 20-or-so minutes were great. There were some truly inspired raunchy lines, but all of that got waylaid by the second act where the movie just dragged. The party that Joe LoTruglio takes them to was tedious and I don't think I laughed--even as Michael Cera sang "These Eyes". It felt forced and uninspired.

As for the B story line, with McLovin/Fogle and the cops, I dreaded each time the story would come back to them. This is the type of storyline that you can tell began with the stoned writers (Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg) saying, "Wouldn't it be cool if . . ." There was nowhere to go with it, so they end it in an explosion with gunfire.

The resolution was apparent long before we get to the final reel, and it couldn't come fast enough for me.

My final quibble with the film comes from Jonah Hill's performance. It is mind-numbingly one-note. He goes from manic to manic and lacks any of the nuance that Cera has. To believe that any girl (especially one as gorgeous as Emma Stone) would find him even the least bit do-able is really hard to believe. Hill and Cera are an unbalanced comedy team with Cera responsible for most of the heavy lifting.

So, all that being said, I still think Superbad is good for a laugh or two and worthy of a Friday night rental. I just had to justify myself.

For much more glowing reviews, see here and here.

Kirk Cameron + Howard K. Stern =

This guy from this video my guy sent to me last night. Tell me he's not a ringer for the love child of the aforementioned.





I'm sure Charles would like it. Hell, I'm sure 88.4% of gay America will like it.



And, because it's been pushed back like 50 times and all I have is this picture to keep me going, here's my girlz, yo!

Sounds like

I'm currently listening to Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion.
Brilliant.
Aboslutely brilliant.

Go atheism! Rah rah rah!

In other news, Toobs will be up at Volunteer Park on Friday (assuming there's enough sunshine to power it).


And, finally, because I know you wonder about Alexyss Tylor (the audio on this is most definitely NSFW):

My new favorite

From easily the best blog I've come across in a long, long time. This made me smile for a while today. Thank you, Samim.

Speaking of the wunderkind, his new track "Heater" w/ a remix by Claude von Stroke (who will be returning to Decibel Festival this year) and a decent B-side is available for download now at Beatport. [Samples here.] Truthfully, I prefer the B-side. There's something too . . . German-y about the accordion and oompah-oompah bass of "Heater."


Now its bed time.

It used to

make me sad when a young person called me "sir." Now it makes me sad when an old person calls me "sir."

One more time

So, to get a sense of how overwhelming the Daft Punk show was, play all four clips at once.
The lighting was amazing. There were light emitting diodes everywhere--and they were sparkly and pretty. I feel really sorry for the kids there that were on drugs. They are probably still seeing tracers today. Anyway, here's some short clips for ya!

For a lovely review by a lovely man, check it.

Less insightful

Antonioni and Bergman both left behind impressive bodies of work, and, being the film junkie I am, I thought I'd take a minute to say something about both of them.
First, Antononi.
The first Antonioni film I saw was Blowup. I liked its swingin' sixties vibe and getting to see a youthful Vanessa Redgrave was a delight. The irreverence for structure in the piece was what I really enjoyed--and of course the beautiful visuals.
I wasn't aware, however, that Antonioni really was a technician and a formidable auteur until I saw L'Avventura. Every shot is framed so perfectly--the tableaux, tracking shots, all of it is near-perfect. People in the background crawl mysteriously out of the person in the foreground's head. He quite literally implies that our desires and wishes are formed from our own minds, and he also questions how easily we can lose and forget those desires. The scenes on the volcanic island are unforgettable, and this was the first film that made me aware of architecture as texture and symbolism. L'Avventura is an incredible film that I highly recommend.


Bergman, for many of my generation, is an acquired taste. I know I only show my hillbilly sensibilities when I say that I've seen The Seventh Seal twice and it still has yet to make an impact on me. Cries and Whispers and Fanny and Alexander are more my speed. They tell specific tales with universal themes and even though Bergman is asking the big questions, you get a believability and realism that just isn't around in his earlier works. Richard Corliss of Time magazine recently interviewed Woody Allen about Bergman (and Antonioni). [article]
Still, Bergman's influence will be felt for a long time. I hope it leads to more parodies like this French and Saunders piece.


Finally, I wanted to send my condolences to the friends and family of Jeremy Blake. Chances are you are familiar with Blake's work but don't know it. He was an artist for Rockstar Games, but more importantly, he was well-respected video artist. He did the video for Beck's Round the Bend which is consistent with his style of "time-based paintings". He also did the beautiful transitions in Punch Drunk Love. He was starting to show an interest in more narrative, documentary style productions before he took his own life. His girlfriend killed herself on July 7th. Ten days later, he went missing. His naked body washed ashore in New Jersey on Monday. There are some lingering mysteries surrounding his death. [blog post]
We will never know what kind of work he would have produced if he had lived as long as Antonioni and Bergman.
Here's a couple clips to give you an idea of his work--

Technical difficulties

I have no idea why the YouTube clip I posted sometime last week never materialized.
So I'll give you a couple to make up for it.



Later today I hope to get the footage from the Daft Punk show up.
In the meantime, check out the Stranger's coverage.

Photos
Reviews (1, 2, 3)
Video

While the concensus seems to be one of adulation, I tend to side more with the the #2 review. Bill and Phil were also nonplussed.

A/V club

Back soon-ish

I'm taking a week-long break. Life has been moving by too quickly lately and the easiest place to cut corners is on this here blog.
So no stories about dance class or the opening at the Henry on Friday or how much I hated Transformers.
This week is the final dance lesson, Hairspray, and Daft Punk.
I hope to get some video footage.
Oh, and I downloaded the free trial of Adobe Premiere Elements which is a marked improvement over that piece of shit disguised as a program called Windows Movie Maker.
See ya soon.

Finally

Ok, I know I've been promising it all week, and I have completed it, but I would just like to justify the amount of time that it has taken me to post this.
1) It is my birthweek and y'all are lucky I'm posting at all.
2) In the past four days I have gotten approximately 16.5 hours of sleep, and this is not for lack of trying. (Factor in attempting to sleep in the middle of the day on exteremly hot days.)
C)Trying to make this video better than the last and overcome that aspect ratio problem and the conversion problem.

I did not succeed in endeavor C. The codec this camera saves the files in and Microsoft Movie Maker's inability to deal with any file other than .wma made me crazy. If I had hair, I would have been pulling it out.

So, you'll just have to deal with that aspect ratio thing. And the fact that I can't put in volume markers other than fade in and fade out at the end of the clip. But I am determined to make this program work for me. Two attempts that have been frustrating beyond belief has sent my inner nerd running to message boards.

Oh, and before I show you the finished product--I just want to thank Janice for comandeering my new toy and interviewing everyone. I had so much fun listening to what everyone had to say--and more than that, listening to your one-of-a-kind laugh. And even more than that, I'm glad I have a document of a day that was really special for me--and not special in a retarded way.

Ok, so without further ado--

Wiggle Wednesday

Last night Phil and I attended our first dance class. We are learning the hustle at the Washington Dance Center, and I can't recommend that place highly enough. For merely $10 per hour long lesson, the place is a bargain.
I haven't taken any sort of dance lesson or learned choreography since my freshman year of college when I played Hero in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.
The hustle is a difficult dance--mainly because it is fast (when you think disco, you're probably thinking of the hustle), but also because it is turn'tastic! You know that scene in Prom Night when Jamie Lee Curtis is spinning around, essentially holding the camera? I had one of those moments and I felt dizzy more than a few times. Guess its time to re-learn spotting.

The dance lessons are cutting into my TV watching time--specifically, So You Think You Can Dance which is a shame, but I generally watch my shows when I get home from work in the morning.
Wouldn't you know it, the first time the show showcases the hustle was the night I was learning the hustle.
Lacey and Kameron performed a pretty killer routine that my man and I will be imitating over the next couple of weeks.
See for yourself.

Kameron and Lacey Week 4
Uploaded by mickeymcc

And, in other SYTYCD news, it looks like my girl Sabra knocked it out the effin' park again with a stellar hip hop routine.
Check it.

Dominic and Sabra Week 4
Uploaded by mickeymcc

And I swear the birthday video will be up soon. In the meantime, check out my main (drunk) squeeze's version of the evening here.

Eight things

Ok, I'm finally getting around to the Eight Things meme I was tagged with early last week by QTA.

I would have put up another video post from the birthday, but again, I was having issues w/ converting the .avi files so they could be used by Movie Maker.

Anyway, here we go.
Eight things about me you may or may not know.

1. The first hallucination I ever had was when I was five. I had a 109 degree fever from the chicken pox. I sat in bed, sweat rolling off me, shivering. There's a feeling I had then, that I've never had since that I can only describe as thick rope. I don't know why those two words describe the feeling best, but they do. Anyway, as I was shivering in bed, the whole room upended, so I was at the top corner and I watched as the Millenium Falcon that hung above my brother's bed floated toward the door.

2. The last hallucination I had was caused by delerium. After staying awake for 30 some hours, I got behind the wheel to drive from Texas to Montana. Just into the panhandle of Oklahoma, I saw a clown sitting on the hood of my Jeep. It was then that I pulled over and asked someone else to take over driving duties.

3. I am adopted.

4. I have only recieved one chilly willy in my life.

5. I am constantly playing games in my head like, "If I can cross the street before Don't Walk starts flashing, then I will kiss the man of my dreams before midnight." Or "If the next person I see is wearing a yellow shirt, I should buy a lottery ticket."

6. I take Tylenol PM on a regular basis (at least once a week).

7. I am an ordained minister.

8. Sometimes I go to movies by myself.

Paris Hilton is better than Scooter Libby

Both are spoiled brats. Only one got what they deserved.
Getting angry at the Bush administration at this point is futile. Tomorrow is our nation's 231st birthday. I hope everyone takes the time to evaluate what that means to them and ask important questions about the political process and how Bush and Co. have endlessly circumvented it.

Out of the vault

The above video clip is my weekend abridged for your pleasure.

On Friday, my lovely boyfriend took me to dinner and a movie. The dinner? A stretch for my gastronomically narrow beau, but one which he handled nicely. We went to Jamjuree on Capitol Hill. Pad See You for him. Rad nah for me. I even opted for only 2 stars of spiciness so he could sample my dish. Normally, I get four or five star spicy (which ever is the limit). I like to break a sweat when I eat Thai food.

We had some time to kill before the midnight movie, so we hit up the Madison Pub with Bill and Andrew. Then it was onto the new homo bar, Pony. Celebrity sighting--Dan Savage playing video games.

Finally, it was time for "Once More, With Feeling" the Buffy Sing Along. The show was sold out. The line wrapped around the block. It was pretty insane. The pre-show stuff could have been cut down some to allow time for purchasing alcohol after the screening, but the actual sing along was great. That episode, to me, is one of the best that has ever been on TV. I also enjoyed that as a PSA in the pre-show, they showed the Joss Whedon on Veronica Mars clip then beseeched the CW brass to reup the (now cancelled) show.

Saturday was the Henry with Bill. I wanted to check it out again, mainly to break in my new camera. Remind me to put some electrical tape over the recording light. The museum nazi told me to turn it off.

Sunday was brunch with Risa, Keith, and Phil at the usual haunt.

So, the new toy was really cheap. I got it through Amazon for around $130. I love how small it is. Contrary to what the YouTube clip would have you believe, it takes pretty high quality video. I love that it plugs right into a USB port.

My biggest complaint so far has to do with Windows Movie Maker and not the product itself. It works much easier on a Mac than it does on a PC. Plus, Movie Maker did some weird compression thing to the video image. I'm going to see if I can fix it tomorrow.

As for plans this week--I'll get around to that meme that QTA sent me. (Oh, and make sure you swing by his site to see one of my favorite video mashups.) No plans for the 4th, and a beach birthday bbq on the 6th. Please send cash or money order. Thanks!

The Wednesday wiggle

So I guess I'm going to become one of those blogs on Wednesdays.
I know that So You Think You Can Dance is a huge hit and it gets tons of ink spilled about it, but I can't help myself. I love dancing so much that I feel it is my obligation to post about the show.

Last week I completely overlooked Anya and Danny's jive from the previous week. Let me just say that ballroom, in general, doesn't really do it for me. The jive, thankfully, is a high energy, complicated footwork dance. Danny was perhaps preoccupied with getting the steps, but Anya really let loose. Their performance was stellar. Couple that with last week's oh-so-yawn-inducing, but technically flawless Vienese Waltz, and I think they're the couple to beat.



But let's get back to my favorite--little miss Sabra. She got to dance in her style last week and if her partner Dominic had just a tiny bit more oomph, it would have been the breakaway performance.


Another standout performance was Pasha and Jessi. Unfortunately, they ended up in the bottom three. Neither one was let go, but it looks like the end is nigh is for Ms. Jessi . . .


And, speaking of dancing, I've signed myself and my beau up for hustle lessons at the Washington Dance Club in July.

All Fridays parties

Thanks so much for all the emails alerting me to the Buffy Sing A-Long this coming Friday. (And the comments in the comments section.) I think Tennille wins the prize for alerting me to it first--all the way back in February!
Thanks, Nilla!
So, Phil and I will be going this Friday. I'd love it if you came along. The more, the merrier, I say. We can grab a beer at Bill's Off Broadway beforehand or something!

Last Friday, we were at the Henry for the opening of the new Doug Aitken exhibit. I liked it quite a bit. It was pretty similar to his last piece. Lots of stuff about rhythm. There was room full of dolls which was cool (different artist). I'll be going back soon with my new toy . . .

Next Friday is my birthday! And you, gentle reader, are invited to join me and my peeps at Golden Gardens. Phil is making prepartions for reserving a table. I don't know exactly how the whole grill thing works--so most likely I'll just bring food that doesn't require grilling. As for alcoholic beverages, all Seattle parks have a no alcohol policy. This translates to bringing a sippy cup of some sort. There will be alcohol, but its gonna be on the down-low, like Matthew McConaughey.
So please come stop by and say 'Hey!' I'd love to see you. And bring a present. And not something cheap and meaningless, either.

As for that new toy.
Let's just say that this is a sign of things to come . . . (Its been in my possession for less than 5 hours)

Dancing about television

Summer is more or less here and with the arrival of sunshine comes a dearth of quality television programming. You would think that would be the impetus to get me out from behind the keyboard. You'd be wrong.
This is the time of year when I turn to the television for some quality dancing. So You Think You Can Dance is back. Risa is the only person who takes it as seriously as myself, but I've gotten Phil and Matt on-board as reluctant viewers.
Anyway.
Let's do a recap.
Last week the two best routines were Mia's and Wade's. Mia's looked all emotion-y. Wade's looked all rip-off-y. Consequently, they were probably the best danced, as well.

But, and its taken me two weeks of poring over the videos, I've finally selected a favorite female dance. That dancer is Sabra. Maybe its the afro, but more likely, its the techinicality and clena lines she brings to kitschy disco. Fun, fun!

New life in print

Seems that Rob Thomas, creator of Veronica Mars, would like to start shopping a screenplay for our heroine. Also, following in Buffy footsteps, DC hopes to turn my favorite sleuth into book a la the Dark Horse and Buffy pairing. [article]

But if you just can't get enough of the lovely Ms. Kristin Bell, here's a pic from her upcoming film Fanboys. And if the sight Ms. Bell as Princess Leia doesn't get the fanboys goin', I don't know what will.



Right now she's filming a film with a horrible title ('Forgetting Sarah Marshall') directed by it-boy Judd Apatow ('Knocked Up'). [article]
I hate movies w/ titles like that. Regarding Henry, Finding Forester, Teaching Mrs. Tingle, et al.

Oh, and Matt named the painting from the previous post--The Pugilists. Pronounced PUG not Pyoo.

Dog fight tonight!

I know I don't write about him very much on here,--I guess that's cuz he can speak for himself (and does so through several outlets)--but my boyfriend rules the school.
One drunken evening, while standing on the patio and smoking (so it was over six weeks ago because I haven't smoked in nearly six weeks), Matt, Steve, Phil, and I somehow got into a discussion about a boxing match with little dogs, like pomeranians or pugs, as the boxing gloves. Yes, I realize that we were talking about fisting little dogs, but it was drunken conversation so we are all relieved of nearly all accountability.
Anyway, Phil gifted us with this lovely watercolor which now hangs framed on the wall next to the kitchen.


Awesome. Damn, my boyfriend is talented and smokin' hot!

And for some reason, this painting reminds me of the Julie Brown song 'Girl Fight Tonight'. So you get this for today, as well:



Oh, also you'll notice that I changed out the tracks in the Vault. I recently recieved a cease & desist from an artist and his label, so I won't be offering direct downloads anymore. Instead, if there's a track that interests you in the vault, shoot me an email and I'll send you the link.

Have a lovely weekend!

My weekend of penis mutilation

Matt and I watched Sick this weekend. Sick is a documentary about performance artist Bob Flanagan. His art centers on his infatuation with pain and masochism. A large majority of his pieces are video installations in which he mutilates his genitals.
I'm glad I was playing Warcraft and only occasionally looking at the screen. Even when I was looking, my eyes were generally shielded by my hands. I watched him hammer a nail through the head of his penis into a block of wood. Then he removed the nail with the claw of the hammer and blood spewed onto the camera lens.
My stomach was a knot of tension and nerves while I watched him perform. Shock value is definitely one aspect of his work, but more than that, as he explains, is a need to control pain. Bob suffers from cystic fibrosis (CF) and has felt varying degrees of pain his entire life. When viewed through this filter, his art becomes much more meaningful. He has learned to love pain, and through his control of it, he became the oldest living person with CF.
The film ends more horrifying than it begins, however. No matter how many pictures of his burnt, sewn, whipped, chained, weighted cock have been shown, the images of him dying in a hospital bed resonate more deeply. The documentarians do not turn the camera away from his last hours. They show him gasping like a fish out of water, eyes bulging. A nurse rubs his arm and tells him that its ok to let go. His wife and torturer beg him to hang on. In the end, he lets go.
If you can stomach it, Sick will do what all great documentaries do--it will provoke thought. I watched it two days ago and I'm still rolling it around my mind.

Saturday night, Phil and I watched Keep the River on the Right. It tells the story of Tobias Schneebaum, an artist and anthropologist who lived with a tribe of cannibals in Peru for a year. In many ways, Schneebaum is Flanagan's foil. Where Flanagan was trapped by disease and forced to be introspective, Schneebaum is unencumbered and is often just an observer. When the movie begins, Schneebaum is working on a cruise ship. Its how he makes his living, and even though his politics don't really jibe with those of a cruise, it is the only way in which he can visit New Guinea--another locale in which he spent much time in his youth.
It is during one of the excursions in New Guinea that I witnessed another mutilation of the penis. This time, it was young boys getting circumcised. I winced again, but had already become somewhat desensitized after viewing Sick.
What I found fascinating about Schneebaum's story was the matter-of-fact-ness of it. He never explains why he hitch hiked from New York City to Peru, but explains it instead as something he had to do. He never explains why he ate human flesh, but instead insists on his duty as an anthropologist. The film contains some great archival footage including a guest spot he had on the Mike Douglas show. While the Keep the River on the Right doesn't contain as many arresting images or a sense of urgency like Sick, it is still highly recommended.

This weekend I also caught Broken English at SIFF with Risa, Keith, Phil, and a couple of Keith's friends. Truthfully, my expectations weren't very high. I am a Parker Posey completist, though, so I was happy to attend.
Broken English is Zoe Cassavetes directorial debut, and what a disappointing debut it is. Like her brother Nick, she lives in her father's long, important shadow. They will never escape the fact that their father, almost single-handedly defined American independent cinema. (And, for my money some of the best films of all time including Faces, Shadows, A Woman Under the Influence, Opening Night, and The Killing of a Chinese Bookie.) So what kind of film did she make? One that should have been lighter than air, but that suffers from a trite screenplay and poor direction.
Parker Posey plays Nora, a 30-something hotel employee who feels the need to be coupled. Justin Theroux and Josh Hamilton play failed prospects, but Melvil Poupaud (Le Divorce) is the paramour in whose arms she falls. Drea de Mateo plays her best friend and Gena Rowlands plays her mother. The story has been told a hundred times--and told better, I might add. Glimpses of fun dialogue give way to longer shots of the couple walking around New York and Paris. So, unless you're a Parker Posey freak like me, you can skip this movie.

And, real quick, here's the leaked poster design for I'm Not There, the new film by fave director Todd Haynes. (I think its one of the best poster designs I've seen in a while.)

Knocking at my chamber door

I was talking with Phil's roommate the other day. He suffers from ornithophobia and was relaying a story of being dive bombed by a raven the other day. The poor guy ran down the street screaming like Tippi Hedren.

I told him about Kelley's old porch where birds used to nest. They'd swoop down and try to intimidate us as we smoked butts. Their little nestlings chirped away.

So I told him that maybe he had gotten too close to a nest.

That's when it hit me--I've never in my life considered that ravens nest. Bluebirds, sure. Woodpeckers, you bet, but those forboding ebony creatures? Never.

I always imagined that ravens just, I don't know, emerge from the darkness of night. They could never be hatchlings, right?

(And, in case you're keeping track, one month five days without a cigarette.)

Marry me a little

I'm making it a point to watch Regis and Kelly this morning when I get home from work. Its shocking, I know.
It must be something pretty special for me to put up with those two, and it is.
Raul Esparza and the cast of Company will be performing. So I get a little obsessive about things, sue me.
The Tonys are Sunday, and, yes, I will be watching and/or recording them.
Hey! Lay off! Watching the Tonys absolves me of most of my homosexual duties until the Christmas holiday season. Couple that with marching in the gay pride parade, and I'm clear until Valentine's Day.

Not only is he interminably handsome (especially with a beard). He also has the most angelic voice around.



I know I've put videos of him on here before, but here's another.