Two cultural artifacts from dogpoet's formative years purchased today:
In 1991 I went alone to a little theater in Sarasota, Florida during college to see Paris is Burning, a documentary about the NYC "Ball" Circuit in the late 80's, and was forever changed. A hilarious, painful and moving film featuring members of the House of Ninja (catch Willi on America's Next Top Model) and the House of LaBeija, among others. Upcoming children share screen time with the legendary Dorian Corey holding counsel in her dressing room, and Venus Xtravaganza reading queens on the Christopher Street Piers (before they were covered in astroturf). Featuring live footage of the performers "walking" in various contests, like "Opulence" and "Banji: The Boy Who Robbed You a Few Minutes Before You Arrived at the Ball". Also features the best use of the disco hit "To Be Real." Fourteen years was a long time to wait.
The previous summer, after my first year of college, I returned home to Minneapolis and got sober (version 1.0) and became buddies with Al, who introduced me to Sandra Bernhard's Without You I'm Nothing. We spent that entire summer drinking too much iced coffee at Cafe Wyrd and driving around town listening to the live show on, yes, cassette tape. Our summer's refrain was "Why Not?!?" which led to various catastrophes with boys at the Saloon and the Gay 90's. To this day I could recite the entire show from memory, and have encountered, along the way, several friends with the same gift (like Rob, who -sniff- left New York last week with Ted for California). Unlike the cassette, which was recorded at a live show before a rapt audience, the movie version takes place in a seedy cabaret, with a rather bored and hostile crowd, lending the show a certain poignancy. Or maybe that's my own projection. At the end of that summer Al returned to Phoenix, and to heroin, and I miss my partner in crime. Oh Liza, what does become a legend most? You, lady, yooooooou!
4:22 PM | link
Thursday, September 08, 2005
And now a couple of cultural plugs:
First off is Queerty, an extraordinarily gay site devoted to, well, the gays. Interviews with Chi Chi LaRue and hot pics of shirtless C-List celebrities (I really need to start watching The Real World again). All edited by the fabulous Bradford Shellhammer, who dresses better than you and is now getting paid to blog. I'm so happy for him.
And my friend Kareem is directing a play here in New York:
The Alternate Theatre presents
LION IN THE STEETS
a play by JUDITH THOMPSON
directed by KAREEM FAHMY
The ghost of a murdered seven year-old girl returns to the community where she lived to discover the identity of her killer. Peering into the lives of her friends and neighbours, she discovers the secrets lurking beneath the happy façade of middle-class life and learns the powerful nature of love and forgiveness.
sets BRIAN IRELAND
lighting ANDREW LU
sound & music ANDREW PAPADEAS
costume & make-up ANNE K. WOOD
dramaturg COURTNEY TODD
stage manager ANDREA WALES
associate producer JOHN CHATTERTON
producer DEREK BUTLER
with NATHAN BLEW*, AMANDA BOEKELHEIDE, JAMES RYAN CALDWELL, JEFFREY CLARKE, TANIA MOLINA, RACHEL SCHWARTZ, TRACY WELLER
* appears courtesy of Actors’ Equity Association
Equity Approved Showcase
September 8th to 25th at the Abingdon Theatre Arts Complex, 312 W. 36th St., between 8th and 9th
Two ways to get tickets:
- Visit http://www.smarttix.com/show.aspx?showcode=LIO and purchase your tickets in advance using your credit card
- Visit www.alternatetheatre.com and reserve your tickets today. Tickets will be available at the door the day of the performance, cash only!
Tickets only $15
Don’t miss out.
For more information visit www.alternatetheatre.com
Media Sponsors:
The Village Voice
HX
< /end whoring for friends>
3:18 PM | link
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Last week I spent some time at a friend's apartment as he recovered from back surgery, watching a lot of TV. I myself have a television but no cable, which in New York is needed to watch even network stations. If I had cable I'd never get any homework done. I keep up with the Times website every day but if I had only read about the people trapped at the New Orleans convention center I doubt I would have cried. Which is an odd thing for a writer to admit, but so be it. I have a newfound appreciation for TV. That cameraman better get a Pulitzer. And a raise.
Trailing my outrage was a peculiar, uncomfortable thrill. It's coursed through me countless times over the past five years; a thrill that perseveres despite all evidence pointing to its eventual extinction.
It began in 2000 when Bush lost the popular vote and resurfaced when everyone realized he had initiated Operation Iraqi Freedom under false pretenses. It surged when the pictures from Abu Ghraib were made public and bubbled when Karl Rove was exposed as the CIA leak.
Last week I felt it again: the tiny thrill, shadowing every horrific blunder of this administration, that this is it, this is finally the one: this is when we finally snap out of our slumber and demand revolution.
Like I said, it's usually a matter of days before the thrill is gone. This is an administration that has pulled out of the Kyoto Treaty, excused itself from the Geneva Conventions, betrayed the UN and the post-9/11 American unity on a unilateral war, cut taxes for the wealthy, lowered antipollution standards, threatened national parks, and is currently slinging mud and blaming everyone else for its stupid, lazy response to Hurricane Katrina.
Here is Bush reflecting on the devastation: "We got a lot of rebuilding to do.... the good news is and it's hard for some to see it now but out of this chaos is going to come a fantastic gulf coast... out of the rubbles of Trent Lott's house -- the guy lost his entire house -- there's going to be fantastic house. I look forward to sitting on the porch."
Gee, Mr. President. I feel safer already.
I can think of only two things he has failed to accomplish (yet): Social Security reform, and an amendment to the constitution banning same-sex marriage. If Watergate were to happen today, Bush would probably keep his job.
I suppose if I were a pessimist I'd pay that little thrill no heed. But I'm not quite that lucky.
In other news, my father and his partner came through town. We went to Kitchenette for brunch, and afterwards they both pulled out those little tourist wallets, the kind you hang around your neck under your clothes, to foil New York muggers. It was so fucking CUTE!
And school began today. This semester I have my thesis workshop, which is all about planning the book. Less reading, more writing. We have to submit seven goddamned times, every other week. When the hell am I going to get my back-to-school shopping done? I gots to look good for the new meat.
9:36 PM | link
