Queer Chronicles

God Arnt in This House or Jesus! Get out of the bathroom, I need to throw up, too!

2010-05-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

I tried my Mary-est to ignore the insanity that takes place in news articles. There's nothing I can do to change what happened and too much stress about other people's issues leave me no time to wallow in my own drama...which is my favorite pastime. Butt...the story of Catoosa County, Georgia teacher Tonya Craft being acquitted has left me with a sick and disturbed feeling I can't shake.

Sure, I sympathize with the claims of the little girls and I understand "reasonable doubt"...that's how X kept me in the dark, and it really is the best way to get across a lie. But it's not the guilt or innocence of this, but the behavior of those involved in prosecuting the case. They are all so tainted with slime. Judge Brian House represented Ms. Craft's first husband in divorce! And he doesn't recuse himself? Degenerates of society play more fair. Just out of simple respect for the law and those involved, if he had any decency should know that in sitting on the bench for this one, would certainly affect perception of either outcome. And now I find out through the Atlanta Journal-Constitution that Prosecutor Chris Arnt posted facebook comments about Ms. Craft's attorneys. Sick. This is the judicial system? And wait...this is the media? That only the Journal-Constitution is telling us this? The slant of the story in other publications is the validity of child testimony. Obviously the big boy networks and media outlets make a few phone calls to get their info and stop there.

Hey, Georgia Bar Association! Think you might find a purpose to exist and do something about this or you just wanna let these guys slide, too?

For Drag's Sake! It's good ole' boy network bullshit. Who can ever know the guilty with these guys staying on the case? Personally, I draw parallel's to Shirley Jackson's The Lottery, though Catoosa citizens are vehemently against public stoning. Thank God for these people!

O, but Judge House is a fine upstanding self-proclaimed Christian. An upstanding member of Peavine Baptist Church in Rock Spring, Georgia. I can't imagine God would be very proud of Judge House's arrogance in remaining on this case after being politely asked, via the law, to step down. Mr. Arnt is also a Peaviner. Justice is most definitely blind, but God's vision is pretty tight. I pray that He lead Justice to Messrs. Arnt and [in His] House.

Their disgusting actions were either a quest for revenge (Ain't that God's job?) or a clammer for power (What will they run for next?). They tainted the investigation and trial of something as despicable yet sensitive as suspected child molestation by a professional educator. This is how they show us Jesus in the real world?

These heterosexuals are way too degenerate for me. I would really like to go curtsy to the porcelain audience to hurl my thanks, but Jesus is already in there doing the same.

St. Cecilia's Choir Has a Secret Angel

2010-05-09T11:23:00.000-07:00

Props to the background player! The best at their job steal the show without trying and by constantly giving honestly.

Last night was a Bach Mass in B Minor at Carnegie Hall, presented by the St. Cecilia Chorus and Orchestra, David Randolph-Music Director, Patrick Gardner-Guest Conductor, Joyce Guyer-Soprano, Rebecca Jo Loeb-Mezzo-Soprano, Laurence Broderick-Tenor, Young Joo An-Baritone. And it was my first time at Carnegie Hall, where all music is sacred.

I enjoyed the men's voices, though Mr. Broderick's love of his hair, yet total professionalism in dealing with it was quite the quirk. Young Joo An and Joyce Guyer's appreciation of music was on display even when not singing. Rebecca Jo Loeb's final aria was velvety cheesecake.

All good work but I was looking for magic. This is Carnegie!

My program companion lamented at the intermission that professional singers shouldn't be holding books, and chided the soloists. I understood and sympathized, but I remained neutral. I know they all know the pieces or can if they were required. Not like they can move around and dance anyway!

In the second half of the program, I realized I'd been watching magic all along. I don't know her name, only that she sits in the front of the 100+ St. Cecilia choir, downstage right. My friend's comment made me realize that this choral treasure had not once looked down at her book...which...wait...was emtpy! No pages. She's faking it...or actually, she's faking that she's faking it. Her coke-bottle glasses firmly fixed on the conductor, a sea of orchestra between them. She knew every note, including the those sung by the soloists. I would guess that poor eyesight caused her to memorize the program, but what a joy to behold. She was intent, focused, and relishing every second, and certainly never looked down to turn a page. She was far less animated in her appreciation than Guyer or An, but they were sitting downstage center and people are expected to be looking at them. Yes, please, enjoy yourself openly. My favorite singer stayed subtley in the background, doing her job with ernest and great care. Ah, the magic that stems from love.

So ironic that this nearly blind woman was so wonderful to watch. And that it wasn't any "disability" that inspired me, but her joy. Oh yeah, I should enjoy art as I create and I should take joy from the art of those around me.

Full discloure: I would rather have opposite-sex than sit through a "mass." Too many Catholic-sounding tunes start to give me the willies. Plus, I prefer relevant art—there, I said it. My snotty opinion. And yet another reason to take away my "gay card": I don't like the classics and opera is just okay—and only when the singers can actually act (no slight here, all fine performances, just a general disappointment I've witnessed). So thank you, you beautiful lady, whoever you are, for bringing me to life. You are a spectacled blessing and I am sure to more than just me. You've achieved the dream of many: to create magic at Carnegie Hall.

I Am A Man, After All

2009-07-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those things happen to you that's so bizarre you have to sit on it a couple of days? You know the kind—when you keep going back to a moment in time just to try to make sense of it?

Last weekend, standing against a wall next to a gay man at a party who smelled of "burning trash," he turns to me and says, "I hope that last hit wasn't too much." He turned forward, slightly cocking his head, then slid down the wall and crumpled onto the floor, legs splayed. No one turned around to look, help or even make a bitchy comment.

Flee! That was my first thought. But then I thought, geez, what if I passed out like that! Plus, thinking that at any point someone was going to step on his skewed legs and break them, I decided to try to revive him. I could not find a heartbeat. I could not find a pulse. I stood back up and looked around. Everyone continued cruising and talking. I wondered if I was suddenly existing on another plane. I reached down again, three fingers spread apart so I could feel between the ribcage and maybe find that illusive pulse. Still nothing. I pressed harder and said, "Don't you dare die on me. I don't even know you."

A few seconds later he shook his head, realized he was on the floor and asked what happened? I told him I would explain outside. I pulled him about halfway up when suddenly this very large queen sticks her face in mine and says, "You should take him to get some air." Not that she cared, but obviously this situation was busting her high or something. And of course, blaming me for this guy's behavior as if I could have done something about it.

I don't know if the guy was actually dead for 10-15 seconds or if I was just so freaked out that I wouldn't have felt a pulse if it was giving me a blowjob.

And yes. Of course I made sure he was safe and all...before going back to the party to see what type of near-death experiences that I could have—I am a man, after all. But by then, I was "that guy who ditched his drunk boyfriend."

I really shouldn't go to parties.

I Feel So Dirty

2009-07-29T13:09:00.000-07:00

I came home Sunday night from camping—a hole-nothu story—to find a pack of cigarettes sitting on top of the mailbox of my 5-floor walkup building. Some well-meaning individual (see: Road to Hell) must have found this fresh pack of Marlboro Lights on the front stoop, probably wanted to make sure someone didn't lose the $7+ they spent. There was only one cigarette left.

Butt...

This is 2009. How many ex-smokers do you know? I'm one. Obviously. Who else would have counted the remains?

It is now Wednesday afternoon. The cigarettes are no longer there. Some not-so-well-meaning individual (see: Good Intentions and Road-Paving) decided that you shouldn't leave a drink out for the alcoholics. Eighteen of those cigarettes received proper soaking. That left one...

God, grant me the serenity to accept the fact that everything tastes like trash, the courage to look myself in the eyeliner again, and the wisdom to don my Carrie Nation drag sooner.

Oh well. Back to Square One. Accept the fact that I have a problem and I am powerless against it...especially with neighbor's who leave my problem on the apartment mailbox.

Donatella Versace is a...what?

2009-05-25T09:43:00.000-07:00

Apparently, this woman really does have creative control in her own company. Someone should do something about that.

Look at this woman. This is the person who is telling us what to wear and how we can look stylish?

Okay, I'll admit that my gay card gets threatened with revocation often because I think "fashion" is a false god for idiots with lots of money and no sense of their surroundings except for what the surroundings might think of them. Sure, I like to coordinate my colors and I "clean up real good." However, the monkey lips on this dried up raisin covered in her own sofa has no business in the business of fashion. Sure, she's got fashion attitude, but what about her own choices? Instead of asking, "Who are you wearing?" I would ask, "Who's your upholsterer?"

We've seen the damage this woman has inflicted on paparazzi lenses for years as her face lifts must not include any other skin on her body. And yet, she'll wear a skimpy 2-piece bathing suit.

Most certainly, these are the end times when a walking corpse is our lighthouse. At least she's not employing 12 year-olds to strip for the camera like CK...well, at least we don't know about it in the press.

Now that she's kicking her CEO to the curb, perhaps we'll see if Donatella was actually chosen for business sense. Otherwise, I say do a DNA check and make sure she's really the spawn of who she claims.

And the bitch is back

2009-05-20T13:38:00.000-07:00

I blogged when blogging wasn't a word and I have failed to blog for the last few years. Got sick of it.

Butt!

With all the crapola going on again: a black president who's pulling a Bill Clinton, Republicans reorganizing under the skirts of Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich, and the liberals who are so damned politically correct they have no idea what racist assholes they are...how could I stay away?

Since my last posts involved Tom Cruise and the Tonys, and now Valkyrie is being released right in the middle of Tony season, could this be a sign? Tom's not-gay performance is certainly a reflection of this year's Tonys. We have 9 to 5 by Dolly and everything's set in the 70s. This is gay without the gays. Then there's Billy Elliot, which couldn't be more gay but it's a funny little story about how gay a character is but it's never completely admitted. Rock of Ages seems to defy logic. I'd comment but I haven't seen it and don't want to from the word of mouth, but I still can't help but cheer a bit for a jukebox musical that wants to put rock on stage, which is where it belongs. Shrek is all about letting your freak-flag fly, but that's really for green people and talking animals, because really, it IS a children's play. And there's Next to Normal with a female lead losing her mind. Again, such an attractive topic for the gays, but not so very gay. And to crown it all, Neil Patrick Harris, the only actor I can think of who gets away with being openly gay and playing a hetero (I love you T. R., but you B gay and they ain't no denyin'), has been asked to boost ratings...er, host the show. I mean he's even more gay/not gay than Hugh Jackman with his manscaping and adopted children.

Butt! I live in New York and I know what the problem is. Gays don't go to theatre any more. Oh sure, some do, but not like it used to be. Gays twitter, drink, and IM. They don't even look around when they're in bars anymore. And I don't think any of them bought Tom's new DVD, either.

One final thought. Would the Broadway community please stop including the words "The Musical" at the end of every title? I understand the need to specify on a poster or a card, but every award that's being announced? It's so bad during this time of year that I end every phrase that way automatically, The Musical.

Anyhoo, thanks for stopping by Queer Chronicles, Not The Musical.

John Travolta Gets In Bed With Tom Cruise To Deny He's G... Crazy

2007-06-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

You know a man is desperate to prove he's not gay when he aligns himself with Tom Cruise. As if religion didn't make strange enough bedfellows, cults have added a whole 'nother level of insanity. As if five airplanes in your driveway aren't enough of a call for help in the compensation department, conjuring Tom Cruise as a barometer of reason should have caused the American Psychiatric Institute to declare martial law.

On the heels of coming out as a drag queen in the movie version of the Broadway show based on the movie John Waters' Hairspray, Travolta follows in the masculine, straight footsteps of such manly men as Divine and Harvey Fierstein to play Edna Turnblat. Ah, but instead of riding the publicity junket and pushing a poofy movie, John T. is already quoting in interview after interview that he does not share his bathroom or his bedroom secrets - therefore, he will not confirm or deny. The scary thing to me is that he equates sex with bathrooms. Telling, eh? Perhaps that wasn't one of California's finest that was checking out George Michael's private jet, lo these many years ago.

Personally, I get a kick out of his mentioning psychotropic drugs as the root of all evil. It wasn't guns that killed kids in Columbine, or the unchecked bully behavior, or extreme loneliness and pain of ostracized teenagers, it was those damn pills! Well, that oughta prove once for all where his loyalties get laid. He's deflecting gay-blame assigned to the Iraq war, global warming, and the loss of a generation of kids, to the obvious villain: dolls, baby. We gotta lay off the dolls.

But the real crime is that John Travolta is playing this role at all. Granted, I haven't seen the movie, but the trailers are telling enough. He's faking -- or as my partner calls it, "he's so busy acting." His performance is tongue-in-cheek and that's not why Divine worked in all her roles. It was because she committed herself to whatever the part and never once let you think she believed otherwise. That's what most actors do, stay committed and believe ... the good ones anyway. Instead, John Travolta should just be committed and asked to leave the business.

I'm all for privacy about your privates, but don't go denying or follow Tom's example of suing for "defamation" or "slander." To do so admits that you are, at the very least, intolerant and think of gays as less than your average person. This behavior is most common amongst those wading in rivers like da Nile ....

And one final bomb for everyone to enjoy. The "rumor" I have heard over and over and over again was never just "I hear Tom is gay." Or even "Did you hear about Travolta? Is it true?" The one I always heard was that they were (maybe are) lovers. But that's just what I heard. There is absolutely no proof that I have or know of in this matter. ... Excuse me, my gaydar is screeching. I think it needs new batteries. It's been going off since I read the article earlier. I'm certain it's a false alarm. I know what I'll do ... I'll just slip a silly dress over my gaydar and it will think it's pretending to be a girl instead of being a great big man-sexed queer! That'll shut it up. Right?

Writer=Whore: This Post is a Sloppy Second

2007-06-18T19:06:00.001-07:00

Instead of writing something new, I'm regurgitating my response to an editorial by a man who took the Broadway musical, Curtains, as a smite against the Catholic church. And he's not kidding.

Here's the article from Newsday.com. And below, is my rant:

I would expect this kind of article in the Midwest, where I grew up. There were Baptist ministers who "editorialized" - nay, preached - in the papers, very much the way this poor, angry Catholic man has done.

As for the "eucharist" - Catholics do not hold a copyright on the body and blood of Christ. It's Christ's, given to us. It's not yours, not ours, not the martyrs' or even the 1 billion members you are falsely claiming (okay, I know the church is the one making the false claim, but you bought it!). As for the miniscule percentage of those scandalous priests ... where on earth (or even in heaven) did you get that data? Back up your claims, dear.

Being raised Catholic, I find your article to be one of the worst endorsements I've read in some time. You talk about the sex abuse scandal as if it's all over. The ripple from these heinous crimes is unfathomable. And still the hiding and lying go on. The church missed a golden opportunity to admit its sins and make penance. But the church won't. That's for the people, not the administration, I guess. The pain and suffering, too, from papal doctrines passed down to the people were well-documented (or was it prophesy?) a few hundred years ago in Biblical warnings ... read all about the Pharisees and see if you find any parallels. Benedict himself has caused unending problems on an international scale because of his foot-in-mouth disease. The hate, yes hate, that this man preaches should have been a clue to all, long ago, that this "church" and its hierarchy have nothing to do with God and most certainly not the love of Christ. And in case you didn't know, the reason priests are not to marry did not originate with celibacy. It came about because the church got tired of supporting widows and priests children. Again, they made every effort not to feed, house and cloth those in need.

So call it "eucharist" and make it your very own buzzword if you'd like because it has nothing to do with the celebration of God's forgiveness and love for ALL. Oh sure, it's spoken from the pulpit, but God assures us, "we will know them by their fruit." I smell something.

And go do some math! Find out how much money the Catholic church truly has (it's ridiculous, really) and check the percentage that is given to the poor, the needy. It's far less than 0.1%. Yet, the church asks members to give 10% of their wealth. If that's not hypocrisy, then what is it? Just good business?

As for Curtains, it's a piece of fluff. I bet watching Doubt with you would have been a real hoot!

Tony, The Tonys, and Any Tony Who's Gay and Proud

2007-06-12T11:44:00.000-07:00

You can tell that Pride season has started. The Antoinette Perry Awards for Excellence in Theatre (The Tony’s) is typically the big kick-off event. Really … could the Big Gay Tony’s have been just a smidge more queer this year? Call me the conservative of my own kind, or just your average run-of-the-bathouse pent up fag, but I always think about how “gay” Broadway is going to seem to middle America – should a single person in a red state actually tune in to the struggling awards show.

Of course, I did not see the event in order. I recorded it while watching The Sopranos. That’s what coupled gays do: record a lot of television on their DVRs. And by the way, if David Chase did not want me to think the whole family dies at the end, then he should not have used actors in the final scene that look so much like some of the temporary whack-help-for-hire characters that were offing long-time cast members in the last few episodes. Until he was interviewed, I had no idea that the family might have lived. But the show bored the crap out of me this season anyway. I think the episodes were dipped in Prozac before being delivered to HBO for airing.

But, I digress. And I’m damn good at it, too. Back to the Other Tony.

The first cringe of Tony night (for me) was gay-boy-in-training introducing the Mary Poppins number that would start right after a commercial. If mid-America hadn’t changed channels yet, this took care of it. Pity, too, because the number was pretty good. Later, David Hyde Pierce broke my heart again (and shocked a few out-of-touch Frasier fans) by reminding everyone how happy he is in his 20+ year relationship. And later, Big Gay Dance was unabashedly performed in the aisle by Choreography winner Bill T. Jones, who also thanked his partner. The only surprise of the evening, besides hack Billy Crudup winning an award (who nominates the vapid?), was Steven Sater who thanked his … what? … wife? … You’re kidding, right? Okay … I guess I stereotype.

So, now that the Big Gay Tony’s for 2007 are history, it’s time for the rest of the queers in the world to put on their costumes and make-up and hit the streets. And again, it’s my time of the year to complain that of all the Pride reporting going on, they will never put a picture of run-of-the-mill, not-so-feminine gay man, or a lipstick lezzie in the photo frame. It’s all about the extremes. For all that the non-drag-queens have been through and achieved, they just don’t sell the papers or boost the ratings.

Funny, since the Tony awards suffer from a completely opposite syndrome.

And even more interesting, is the only truly great performance of gay life on television or any other media in the past year or so has been The Sopranos, who dealt in complete realism in Joseph R. Gannascoli’s portrayal of Vito Spatafore, dealing with his sexuality, family and job, and what frightened cum angry heteros do in such cases.

Now, how do I circle this back to my opening? Simple. When Vito got caught red … um … handed, the bar bore a striking resemblence to where it all began for gay rights: The Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street. Happy pride, sisters and sisters.

Bush and Benedict Sittin’ in a Tree, K-I-L-L-I-N-G

2007-06-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

Two old war whores are having a sensational weekend together in the heart of Rome. Vatican City’s Pope Ben the Dick is hosting his Bush, who’s halfway around the world from his usual Dick.

The Leader of the Free World did NOT go to the Supposed Right Hand of God to get spiritual advice, create peace, feed the hungry, help the needy or anything that Jesus would be interested in. Oh, hell no! He’s there to get the Pope’s assistance in turning out Cuba for capitalism when Castro dies. Geez, they can’t even wait till the body’s cold! Like two old bitchy spinsters fighting over dead daddies money. Someone needs to let Dubya know that as far as the queer thing goes, Benedict and Castro (and Bush for that matter) are in complete alignment. They refuse to recognize gays as people and believe that gays are the only true evil in the world. That’s because looking in a mirror to find true evil is just too darn obvious.

Bush, incidentally, popped into the Vatican via the back door. He’d heard the infamous Tammy Fae Baker quote that “Back door friends are best!” (Believe it or not, that’s a quote from her PTL club days, NOT from her friend-to-the-gays days in this past decade.) Bush was attempting to avoid anti-war protestors because the last thing George would EVER want to do is a hear a voice of dissent. And God knows, the last thing you want to talk about with a religious leader is peace.

It’s beyond frightening and beyond maddening and even beyond realism that these two evil, horrid people are making decisions about the world and what happens next in it. I cannot possibly decide the lesser of these two. That's like saying between Dick Cheney and Bill Gates, who's poorer.

Of course, it doesn’t matter what is said by the Pope or anyone else because we all know George only hears what he wants to hear. And what he wants to hear is that God is behind him. Of course he is. He’s been behind him for the last seven years, tapping him on the shoulder and saying, “Since you keep using my name, can we talk for a minute? George … can you hear me? George?” As for being behind the Pope, I don’t see Jesus going anywhere NEAR that demon.

There's a rumor that George wanted to slip into a confessional with Benedict but White House staff were concerned that there was not enough time in the schedule for a complete confessoin. Too, the amount of Holy Water it would take to wash the blood off his hands is about the same amount of fresh water that has melted from the polar ice caps since he took office. And you thought it was global warming!

Remember When It Was Still Okay to Have the Hots for Isaiah Washington?

2007-06-08T22:20:00.000-07:00

Some things you wish would stop and others you hope will last forever. When I find a man hot, I like that to keep going, even if I'm giggling and saying, "Stop."

I will admit that I was a fan of Grey's Anatomy in its beginnings. Yes, blame me for liking the show and taking to the plucky Ellen Pompeo who can't seem to keep her eyes open when she's busy acting. It was the supporting cast that got me, and in particular, Sandra Oh. It's a gay thing. Every queer either loves Sandra or cannot understand why anyone would. I am of the former. Because of her and Virginia Madsen, parts of Sideways were watchable. Well, when Sandra finally laid Isaiah - while we got to watch - oh my! The pieces parts we got to see were so very much appreciated. Isaiah's skin and his tookus and boy oh boy am I digressing. But we all know what happens next. He opens his gorgeous mouth, spits out some poo, gets the world all crazy, and now I'm not allowed to lust after him anymore because he's a gay basher. There goes another fantasy down the toilet ... and this fantasy didn't even include one in the first place.

Nothing lasts forever, I suppose.

When I first met my Registered Domestic Partner (RDP), he sang me what he called his dog's favorite song written just for her. He sang it to the dog "because she loved it," though I never saw any change in her behavior while he sang it. It went something like, "It's all about me, me, me, not a lot about you, you, you, let me tell you 'bout me, me, me." Catchy, ain't it? Then he says to me later that the song is really about him. He was joking - or so he claimed at the time. I have since discovered the contrary. He sings that song a lot. I haven't heard it in months, but I know it's still playing in his head.

If you will excuse me now, I have to go check on my DVDs. I think Isaiah starts showing skin by the end of the first disk of season one. I'll go dig that out and put it on repeat. Maybe Isaiah'll get more residules that way.

I have a theory. If we're nice and lay off him, he'll pose for Playboy. Go ahead and mock ... I have dreams, too, you kow.

Dja Hear This One? The pope, the president, and a racist head for Paris, see, ...

2007-06-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

“It's very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present. Ya know what I mean?”-- Edith Beale

What a crazy world.

Here in the United States, it has taken a mere 43 years to bring James Ford Seale to trial for the torture and killing of two young black men in Mississippi. In his 70s and looking angrier than ever, this man enjoyed freedom throughout his adult life but robbed two others of that same treasure. It’s hard to keep the faith sometimes.

A man tried to jump on the popemobile today. Vatican officials claim the man was mentally ill and not trying to hurt the pope. He most certainly is mentally ill if he got that close to the pope and didn’t even try to squeeze in a decent bitch slap. The pope is said to have pretended not to notice the man. For anyone who thought my bitch slap comment inappropriate, think about this: anointed man of God turns his back on the mentally ill and refuses to acknowledge them?? Wake up, Catholic ones. There’s a devil in your house. You will know them by their works.

Of course it’s all about the breach. Security breach, that is. Fear has now taken root over George Dubya’s visit to Rome. Security is tantamount. If it helps, I can offer this to alleviate any concerns his protectors may have: For the same reason Benedict twirls around Vatican City without his bulletproof hood on the popemobile, you have nothing to worry about – who’d waste a perfectly good bullet?

Odd, Bush is coming from the G8 Summit where he's promised "we the people" would do nothing and pay no consequence to the rest of the world for our whorish greed of natural resources that's killing us all faster than anyone ever imagined and the concern is over someone trying to get Bush? Wow.

So you have this Bendict guy, obviously not of God, reported in the media as the voice of Christianity. His next featured guest is going to be genocidal Bush, despised by two-thirds of his own people, hated around the world, and feared by all who are even slightly oppressed. As President, one of the media’s names for him is “leader of the free world.” The crazy popemobile-hitchhiker-man who tried to be near "the right hand of God" is undoubtedly in jail or worse, and will remain incarcerated for a very, very long time. Justice is real bitch.

Dammit! I swore I wasn’t going to write about Paris Hilton … and would you just look at me now …

Rudy Giuliani Gets Lightning Strike From God ... but Not for What You'd Think

2007-06-06T05:32:00.001-07:00

Oh what a joy these debates. The Rebuttlicans (not Republicans, that party is LOooooong gone), had their free-for-all last night. A unison chorus of Bush-bashing. Yes, you heard me, Right. They all hate Bush now. And just one night after two-faced dog Hillary spouted the worst lie I've heard since Dubya turned us into Future-Third-World status by saying, "We're safer now." And people still think there's a difference in the parties? They're all doing 180's this year. It's the latest trend. Even Rudy. What a friggin' putz.

When asked about abortion at last night's Rebuttlican debate, there was some sort of power outage/lightning strike incident that opened the door for Rudy Giuliani to say something about his Catholic school upbringing. Odd. He allows abortions and then conjures the Catholics? His joke, somewhat cute, was also an admission of his missing the point. God wasn't trying to silence him on the abortion issue, he was warning him that a good smite might be coming his way for his total and complete hypocrisy.

Yes, Rudy Giuliani sold out an entire group of Americans last night. When asked if any candidate would support gays serving open in the military, NO candidate raised their hand. None would include Rudy.

What?! He'll stand up for abortion rights and risk losing the entire set of red states, but can't step up for the queers? What a complete and total asshole. Who gave him comfort and a place to stay when he screwed up his last marriage? His gay friends.

Fine, Rudy. Just want to give you a little food for thought here: Who's gonna loan you a dress now?

By the way, where was Fred Thompson? Nevermind. He was either at The Pleasure Palace taking in his wife's second show or they were having a "quiet evening at home." Even I can see that both would be great reasons to miss this pony show.

Fred Thompson's Wife Is Not a Stripper ... Because She's Not 21 Yet?

2007-06-06T05:08:00.000-07:00

Check out the big whooop on Fred Thompson getting a roast from Joe Scrabrough.

Fred's wife, Jeri Kehn, who oddly goes by another last name (I thought Rebuttlicans were against that, too!), is apparently quite his junior, a looker, blonde ... and has, you know, not-so-conservative ... er, credentials. Oh, for crying out loud, BIG BAZOOMBAs. Geez.

So, of course, being a Rebuttlican, he's taken offense and the right-wing spin jockeys and talking pointers have decided he's had an "Imus" moment. I had no idea that Joe could poop out of his mouth, nor did I see where that happened in the article, so I'm not quite getting the Imus comparison. This was just a funny joke, dead on, and would be considered a roast when among actors - something Fred suddenly is not.

As I responded to this article: First and foremost, if you choose to run for national office, if you are a movie star, if you are rich and trying to bring press attention to yourself ... then you are free game .... Obviously, the comment hit too close to home -- not that she strips, but Fred doesn't want his compaign to start with the Old Man/Hot Chick discussion. Oops.

Did you see this woman? She looks like his granddaughter, not a day over 20. She's probably older and looks young, and who am I to begrudge age differences? (Yes, I once had a controversial relationship years ago!!) But this is a presidential candidate ... I'm sorry, another oops! ... this is just a simple guy who happens to have built a presidential exploratory committee. And he's liked in the poles ... excuse me, polls, because he'll take the Rebuttlicans back to their faith-based agenda. This guy who left D.C. for the NYC lights, cameras and action, has had an affair of some notoriety and is married to a girl who looks ten times tartier than a Paris Hilton hanger-on. I guess they're thinking they should go with another actor since it worked so well last time they had one. The Christian Conservatives (again, neither) seem to have forgotten that their Divine Ruler Ray-Gun went nuts with his aging disease and left his crazy wife Nancy alone with the astrologers to make decisions about the course of our country.

So, step up, Fred. You have a trophy wife. Embrace it and go forward. And tell your friends to shut the hell up. Your life is a fishbowl now, bub. If ya don't like the water, stay outa the tank.

Theatre Review: Grey Gardens at the Walter Kerr

2007-06-03T21:04:00.001-07:00

Book by Doug Wright, Music by Scott Frankel, Lyrics by Michael Korie

I love it when the star sings to me. Christine Ebersole, while slaying the audience at the Walter Kerr and singing her little heart out, gave just a smidge to me, here and there. Some actors pretend to look at the audience or stare at them blankly, but the good ones connect with you just as they connect with each other. I have had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Ebersole once. Nice and a fun lady who means business. I liked her. And you know from meeting her, this is her gift. And if ever there was a part written for an actress, this would be it. Her striking resemblence to Edith Beale is just the icing on the cake.

Michael Greif’s direction was obviously a good thing. I didn’t think about it. And all the pieces-parts came together to make a nice whole. Hair and Wig Design, Paul Huntley; Costume Design, William Ivey Long’s seventy-millionth play; Scenic Design, Allen Moyer. The design team did a great job. I adored the house, opening and closing to us. That it was a wall before the play started was fun intimidation.

Some great casting and some great turns by people I did not expect. Matt Cavenaugh creates an impressive forgotten Kennedy-boy-man and later a very, very believable confident to Edith’s mother, stunningly played by Mary Louise Wilson. Matt, you may remember, is of Urban Cowboy fame. That horrible show that used lots and lots of dough. I was one of the few people to see Urban Cowboy: The Musical, and was not among the even-fewer who stayed for its second act. Being able to get a part after a show like that, I applaud him. Oh, he wasn’t the problem in that show, everything else was.

And speaking of everything else, John McMartin stunned me by giving me a character I’d never seen before. His militant patriarch cum last-chance-protector of young Edie, was scary, hilarious, and dead on. The rest of the gang (Sarah Hyland, Erin Davie, Michael Potts, Kelsey Fowler, Bob Stillman) was a finely tuned machine. Good stuff.

There Are NO Real Men in Russia ... Unless You Mean the Queers

2007-06-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

This is my "open" letter to the frightened straight men of Russia. It seems that Alabama rednecks and the Christian (not)Right have nothing on hatred and fear when it comes to the ignorant, angry, lost heteros of The Big Red State. Get this! The Russian Orthodox Church teamed up with the skinheads against queers!! Could you imagine Family First teaming with the Ku Klux Klan? Nevermind ... what am I saying?

This past weekend, though barred from conducting a gay pride march, organizers and supporters protested the Moscow ban on their march by continuing on with what they were told not to do. Why? Because, per Mayor Yuri Luzhkov (really, the mayor!), gay pride marches are "Satanic." I understand there is a discrepancy here in that the Holy Bible does caution us on "pride." Whew! And I thought he was stopping the event because he is a homophobic, terrible excuse of a man, who hates gays. Good to know he just wants people to not be so darned, nay damned, haughty.

Dear Angry, Lost, Heterosexual Males of Russia:

I am so sorry that you have been left to ignorance on the subject of homosexuality. Too, I feel for you that you have been kept unaware of Mother Russia's gay history, or of its gay culture. But I am most sorry that you have failed to understand the love of God, which does transcend all - and I don't mean that his love dresses up and lip synchs! I mean, that God is stronger than your hate and He will some day guide you out of this misery that causes you to lash out and physically abuse others while spewing his name from your mouth like so much spent tobacco juice. God forgives you and is helping the gay community to do the same.

I am ashamed for you, too, that the men you have put in place to enforce the laws and protect the people have chosen to single out some for protection: those who are causing extreme hardship and pain for others. I do not wish to understand how this makes sense to you -- to physically punch, kick and stab at someone, while telling them God hates them. There is no God in you when you do this. You have essentially thrown Him out.

I am ashamed for your entire country. You have so much that all should be proud of, including scientists, athletes, scholars. You have achieved world-renown and respect in every aspect of life yet your policemen arrest those trying to peacefully march while ignoring every (and several) incident of physical assault taking place before your very eyes. Did you not see the pictures of the event? Gays are most definitely NOT coming off as evil.

Please let go of the fear of the unknown. God will guide you in love, not in punches, threats and condemnation. "For there is now no condemnation for those in Christ." If you are screaming and hitting people, you are not in Christ. If you see someone standing up for those oppressed (queers), then you should have recognized Christ in them.

Again, God forgives you ... and I'm working on it. But right now, I'm still a little upset and angry that you cannot see how much damage you have caused to Christ's cause, and selfishly, that you have added so much to my prayer list. May God have mercy on your souls.

I challenge you to learn something about your neighbor so you can love him, as the Bible dictates:

And to the gay men of Russia (and Völker Beck, especially) who chose to continue voicing the rights of the oppressed, I applaud you and I cry for you, selfishly again, because I wish I could be half as brave as you.

P.S. Never was a big fan of Tatu or Right Said Fred, but I'm going to Amazon to buy all their albums right now.

Wait! A Gay Republican?

2007-05-30T11:23:00.000-07:00

Just to clarify, I am not a log cabin Republican. Those people are nuts. But I am a registered Republican.

Look at it this way - it's like being a Christian in this day and age. Yes, I am one, but no, I have nothing in common with most of the people who claim they are, too. I just want conservative government ... which means, less government, less government spending, slow-to-action until analysis is complete, etc. See? Nothing like the guys in charge!

A Whole Pack of Trouble in the Ole Kit Bond

2007-05-30T11:19:00.000-07:00

Since Missouri Senator Kit Bond is hell-bent on going after Valerie Plame, I thought I'd write him a letter. With all the issues going on in the world that require attention, can someone explain to me why we're going backward in time to harrass the one that was wronged?

Here's a copy of what I said to the loser. I hope it inspires you to write something, too.

Dear Senator:

As a senator on a committe, you should be listening to all Americans, not just constituents in Missouri.

As an American and a Republican, I am asking that you stop harrassing Valerie Plame. The President and the Vice-President committed treason by outing her. Please concentrate on THAT wrong first. Treason is serious business and this administration has sidestepped the law. If you are NOT willing to pursue treason charges, you MUST drop the Plame harrassment.

Attacking Plame shows that you are not at all concerned with anything but pleasing this treasonous administration and furthering the rapid erosion of the (my!) Republican Party.

I still have family in Missouri who are Republicans. They are equally unimpressed with your misguided behavior.

This Baby is NOT About Politics!

2007-05-25T09:03:00.000-07:00

Baby Politic #1 (warning: this link includes a picture of a very large Dick)

Mary Cheney, who campaigned for Daddy Dick (one I can easily refuse), courted gay votes for the treasonous/gay bashing pair of Dick and Bush (skip it!), and hmmm ... seemed to wait to have a child until the last trimester of her father's overtly corrupt administration so as not to disrupt HIS plans, finally had her non-political baby with her "life partner," who, contrary to popular belief, is NOT the father.

I'm disgusted.

I'm glad that lesbians can have children. I think children raised in gay households will make fantastic adults. But I think this family (minus the new addition) is the sickest bunch of self-centered shits that ever walked the face of the earth. Mary "Margaret Sanger" Cheney sells out her own people, her father denies rights to individuals just like his own daughter, and there's Lynne - oh, sweet JESUS don't get me started on that witch. The smiling "I'm just a silly ole' wife" look makes me puke. Complacency in the face of her husbands treason. (Treason = the selling out of his country to make personal profit, the denial of proper equipment to the young men he sent to war, the fact that his own greed supersedes the thousands and thousands of lives that are blood on his hands, etc.)

Oh, but this isn't any of our business, is it? That's what The Dick keeps telling us. This grandchild of his, born of lesbians while he refuses rights to gay people, this reproducing lesbian couple that cannot get married nor be recognized because of the very people who support Dick. And that's another thing. What is up with the right-wing Pharisees: Family First, the Moral Majority, the NSCHMFDG (Not-So-Christian-Hate-Mongers-For-Dead-Fags)? If ever there was a time they could pound a pulpit, it's now. Their poster child, The Dick, flaunting his daughter's hedonistic relationship and bastard child? They could easily claim, "He was honest and forthright until he started accepting that demon-spawn child of his!" Oh ... nevermind. Who am I kidding? Of course, they don't have anything to say about it now because it's all in the timing.

I feel so sorry for this baby. His mother and his grandfather are BOTH hypocrites. But there's hope yet. 1) Our newly elected "Democratic" Congress cannot do a damn thing to stop the war because of their own infighting. 2) There is a great storm over the Instant-Immigrant bill (just add water and you, too, can have 12 million low-wage workers of your very own). These two things mean that Cheney and his spawn, gay and straight, will have lots and lots of money to hire many, many cheap nannies. And if any of those nannies decide to sell stories to the newspapers, Dick can shoot them and Lynne can claim that her husband "did the Right thing."

You don't like what I said about their baby? Well, at least I didn't headline this article this way: "Cheney Welcomes Anti-Christ To Cast of Armageddon." That would have been rude.

Baby Politic #2 and 3

Weighing half as much, but twice as many you-know-whats, 60-year-old New Jersey psychologist Frieda Birnbaum gave birth to twin boys on Tuesday. Her 29-year-old daughter was said to be "appalled." I wasn't. Not at first. If a child is wanted, bring it on. It's a beautiful thing. But there are reasons people have children. The reasons Frieda told the public are as follows:

to be a role model
to empower other women
to "send a message"

Of course, all of these are GREAT reasons to have a child.

Is she nuts? She's a psychologist. She's from New Jersey. 'Nuff said.

Baby Politic #4

And speaking of crazy, Anne Heche is now in a custody battle with her husband over their five-year-old son because, according to Anne, Coleman Laffoon has not been a good stay-at-home dad while she stays up Nawth doing the hideous chick-series, Men In Trees. Anne does well in this series, I'm told. I assume it's because she's nutty as a tree full of squirrels, so she should be right at home.

Neither parent seems fitting to me but that's only based on the absurd truth that they named their child Homer. Homer Laffoon. Talk about the cards stack against you! Crazy Anne for a mom, camping gear dad, hearing "doh!" all his life, and his last name rhymes with buffoon.

Family values. Good times.

Final Thoughts

The real kicker is this: By the time each of these kids reaches adulthood, there will still be an Iraq War. They'll never really have to worry about politics. We've secured their future ... eh, Dick?

Paris? Good Behavior? It Really Is the End of the World

2007-05-17T11:42:00.000-07:00

Apparently, the Jail Paris Hilton site accomplished half its goal. Instead of 45 days, she'll get 23 days for "good behavior." Wait ... What? Good behavior? Which of the following behaviors was good?

Arguing with police when she got the DUI
Driving on a suspended license
False accusations that the police pulled her over because "they wanted" her (very sad)
Open drug use while awaiting sentencing

And I doubt that's all. I'm not a Paris fan or even an anti-fan. Consult one of either group for the full laundry list of Paris' scorn for the law. I simply cannot abide injustice and this whole event with her has sent the message loud and clear that money matters and people who don't have it, don't. Her "good behavior" included (get this!) that she showed up for her last court date. That's good behavior? She was probably high when she got there, but she showed up! Bonus points for the bimbo who managed to make an appointment! As if her attorney "warning" the world that she was frightened of her impending jail sentence was not silly enough.

Who is this judge and when will disbarment proceedings begin? This sentence makes a laughing stock of our already unjust judicial system.

Nevermind. It's me. I'm just being unfair, I know. I'm sure she was driving under the influence trying to deliver food to starving children. Okay, not food to starving children, but cocaine to a couple of skinny DJs. Close enough.

Jerry Falwell and Paris Hilton: Two Degrees of Segragation

2007-05-15T17:01:00.000-07:00

So if a fat lady doesn't sing, but a fat closet queen has a heart attack ... is that "the end?" The end of times, of course, if you were listening to said royalty during his big, fat life. Okay, I was doing so well with not taking the childish route and attacking but the fat thing is always such an easy grab. He and his pack of Pharisees were so hell-bent against homosexuals that feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and humbling themselves before God and fellow man would simply have to take the back burner ... at least until the gays were squelched. That fact alone is a much higher grapefruit of discussion. I was being lazy. I apologize. I'll stretch a little further.

I am sorry, truly. But the only thing I can really apologize for is this: I am sorry that I was not able to do something, even the smallest thing, that would have helped Jerry Falwell see the Jesus in me that makes me want and need to love and pray for him. I'm not joking. I prayed for him in a positive way many times when I was a right-winged hate-spewing Christian myself. I prayed for him to be heard and accepted by the people who listened. Later, when I was a bleeding heart liberal and rebelling, but still holding fast to the ways of Christ in whatever small way I could, I prayed that God would shake him enough to wake him up, especially since he seemed to have all that power to sway the people who listened to him ... hmmmm. And since, I have prayed for him to be set free of the crippling hatred I knew he felt. I pitied that in him, especially since he seemed to have been shaken by God - but with the claim that it was the gays that caused 9/11 - I thought, perhaps shaken too hard.

Yet still, it's the pain that he caused not to me, but to "my people." I can rarely be the one to jump on my own truly bad mistreatment, I'm like a hungry tick on a fat farm cat when I feel others have been slighted. Forget the cat. Give me underdogs. And hurt them he did. Violence was sanctified against people because of what Jerry Falwell said. What few got the physical pain, a few million more were spiritually stabbed ... yes, even the atheists. It matters not your beliefs, we all know what beliefs mean to the people who believe 'em. It is their life force and how they deal with their fellow man! When a self-professed "man of God" (that should have made it obvious) tells a group of people that the very being who made them who they are, hates them and wants them to burn in hell for all eternity, it stings a smidge. As if that sentence weren't enough, Jerry Falwell believed that homosexuals should be punished on earth. Not only should we all make-like-it's-not-there, but if we even suspect queerness, the following will be awarded you not necessarily in this order: poverty, physical punishment/abuse, chastisement, ex-communication, jail, death and only THEN do we get to begin our eternal damnation for being what God made us. Wow. What a deal. And puts a whole new spin on predetermination, eh!?Icing on the cake: Jerry Falwell turns to the world and says "God is love." Not only does he condemn gays in all things possible, with that statement he condemns all believers because he leads them, smiling, to the conviction that the difficulties of loving thy neighbor can be easily surmounted with a simple re-district. We just don't count the queers. Yet, God IS love. Oh, this is a pickle, all right.

Let me play Falwell's Advocate for a moment ... I guess I can understand the logic: You gotta have somebody to hate. Of course, the man was born and died in Lynchburg, Virginia, where one citizen told CNN of the many contributions that Jerry Falwell and Liberty (puh-LEASE!) University had made to the town. Pity Jerry couldn't have done something about a name change to perhaps alter the city image. What's in a name? I can almost see a sign hiding somewhere around town warning of the evening curfew applied to only certain types of folk. Ohhh, wait. Nevermind. That's right! The town is really named after someone named Lynch ... I forgot.

Still, that is not the entirety of the conflict. It's not as much about Jerry Falwell as it's about me signing an online petition to jail Paris Hilton. I simply can't take it anymore. I want to forgive the young and allow them their youthful transgressions but this is about major driving issues: DUI, driving without a license, double-speed with no headlights through town, and the list goes on. She got in her Bentley and drove for the cameras, knowing she was breaking the law. And there it is: Am I being a Jerry Falwell? .... Hmmm?? ... Seeeee?

Forgive Falwell. Jail Paris Hilton.

I find the two things together kinda ... well, hysterical as a concept, but think of the yin and yang of it. I spew when I think of Jerry Falwell calling himself an "evangelist," or still and probably always the worst, "Christian." As if Christ would run Liberty University and pound a pulpit to build an empire. Then there's Paris, our children's role model and they eat her up with a big ole' spoon! If only there was someone out there who truly evangelical: sharing the good news of Christ.

Okay, fine. I can finally agree with Jerry Falwell. These are surely the end times. But the sins that brought us here are probably more about the hate and debauchery of the pulpit then about the sex I've had. I mean a lot of it was pretty awesome, but "earth shattering" really is a just a saying. And if these are truly the end times, then Jerry would officially have to be a "false prophet." Still with me?

Where many question God's allowance of pain and suffering wherever it appears, I question him as to why he allows people to use his name as a weapon to hurt his children. Then I hear myself getting mad at one of them and saying the worst things, usually finishing it all off with a dose of calling them a hypocrite. Are you with me now?

Gone but not forgotten, only the good die young, etc. I gotta run. I was supposed to be taping Law & Order ... ! My boyfriend is gonna kick my ass.

The Antoinette Perry Awards for Achievement in Theatre - The Friggin' Tonys

2007-05-15T09:55:00.000-07:00

Nominations for the Tony Awards were announced today. As usual, they have loaded massive amounts of nominations to just a few plays. Why? Because if there's one person who excels in a show, then everyone must be really, really good! In other words, to put petty politics aside and to truly figure out the best in each category would require these people to see everything (which they certainly do not do) and to think ('nuff said).

However, there are a few bright spots. Nominees are below. I gave an asterisk to the shoe-ins. The rest is up for grabs. I'll make predictions later when I've seen a few more of them and listened some more to the gossip that (usually) gives me all the winners ahead of time. And please let David Hyde Pierce win ... because he's the cutest thing and if he reads this, he'll know of my undying love and finally come for me. I will keep his Emmys (as well as other prizes) dust free. Don't ask how.

Best Play
The Coast of Utopia, playwright Tom Stoppard
Frost/Nixon, playwright Peter Morgan
The Little Dog Laughed, playwright Douglas Carter Beane
Radio Golf, playwright August Wilson

Best Musical
Curtains
Grey Gardens
Mary Poppins
Spring Awakening

Best Book of a Musical
Curtains, bookwriters Rupert Holmes & Peter Stone
* Grey Gardens, bookwriter Doug Wright
Legally Blonde The Musical, bookwriter Heather Hach
Spring Awakening, bookwriter Steven Sater

Best Original Score (Music and/or Lyrics)
Curtains, Music: John Kander; Lyrics: Fred Ebb, John Kander & Rupert Holmes
Grey Gardens, Music: Scott Frankel; Lyrics: Michael Korie
Legally Blonde The Musical, Music & Lyrics: Laurence O’Keefe and Nell Benjamin
Spring Awakening, Music: Duncan Sheik; Lyrics: Steven Sater

Best Revival of a Play
Inherit the Wind
Journey's End
Talk Radio
Translations

Best Revival of a Musical
The Apple Tree
A Chorus Line
Company
* 110 in the Shade

Best Special Theatrical Event
Jay Johnson: The Two and Only
Kiki & Herb Alive on Broadway

Best Performance by a Lead Actor in a Play
Boyd Gaines, Journey's End
Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon
Brían F. O’Byrne, The Coast of Utopia
Christopher Plummer, Inherit the Wind
Liev Schreiber, Talk Radio

Best Performance by a Lead Actress in a Play
Eve Best, A Moon for the Misbegotten
Swoosie Kurtz, Heartbreak House
Angela Lansbury, Deuce
Vanessa Redgrave, The Year of Magical Thinking
Julie White, The Little Dog Laughed

Best Performance by a Lead Actor in a Musical
Michael Cerveris, LoveMusik
Raúl Esparza, Company
Jonathan Groff, Spring Awakening
Gavin Lee, Mary Poppins
David Hyde Pierce, Curtains

Best Performance by a Lead Actress in a Musical
Laura Bell Bundy, Legally Blonde The Musical
* Christine Ebersole, Grey Gardens
Audra McDonald, 110 in the Shade
Debra Monk, Curtains
Donna Murphy, LoveMusik

Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play
Anthony Chisholm, Radio Golf
Billy Crudup, The Coast of Utopia
Ethan Hawke, The Coast of Utopia
John Earl Jelks, Radio Golf
Stark Sands, Journey's End

Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Play
Jennifer Ehle, The Coast of Utopia
Xanthe Elbrick, Coram Boy
Dana Ivey, Butley
Jan Maxwell, Coram Boy
Martha Plimpton, The Coast of Utopia

Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical
Brooks Ashmanskas, Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me
Christian Borle, Legally Blonde The Musical
* John Cullum, 110 in the Shade
John Gallagher, Jr., Spring Awakening
David Pittu, LoveMusik

Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical
Charlotte d’Amboise, A Chorus Line
Rebecca Luker, Mary Poppins
Orfeh, Legally Blonde The Musical
Mary Louise Wilson, Grey Gardens
Karen Ziemba, Curtains

Best Direction of a Play
Michael Grandage, Frost/Nixon
David Grindley, Journey's End
Jack O'Brien, The Coast of Utopia
Melly Still, Coram Boy

Best Direction of a Musical
John Doyle, Company
Scott Ellis, Curtains
Michael Greif, Grey Gardens
Michael Mayer, Spring Awakening

Best Choreography
Rob Ashford, Curtains
Matthew Bourne and Stephen Mear, Mary Poppins
Bill T. Jones, Spring Awakening
Jerry Mitchell, Legally Blonde The Musical

Best Orchestration
Bruce Coughlin, Grey Gardens
Duncan Sheik, Spring Awakening
Jonathan Tunick, LoveMusik
Jonathan Tunick, 110 in the Shade

Best Scenic Design of a Play
Bob Crowley & Scott Pask, The Coast of Utopia
Jonathan Fensom, Journey's End
David Gallo, Radio Golf
Ti Green and Melly Still, Coram Boy

Best Scenic Design of a Musical
Bob Crowley, Mary Poppins
Christine Jones, Spring Awakening
Anna Louizos, High Fidelity
Allen Moyer, Grey Gardens

Best Costume Design of a Play
Ti Green and Melly Still, Coram Boy
Jane Greenwood, Heartbreak House
Santo Loquasto, Inherit the Wind
Catherine Zuber, The Coast of Utopia

Best Costume Design of a Musical
Gregg Barnes, Legally Blonde The Musical
Bob Crowley, Mary Poppins
Susan Hilferty, Spring Awakening
William Ivey Long, Grey Gardens

Best Lighting Design of a Play
Paule Constable, Coram Boy
Brian MacDevitt, Inherit the Wind
Brian MacDevitt, Kenneth Posner, and Natasha Katz, The Coast of Utopia
Jason Taylor, Journey's End

Best Lighting Design of a Musical
Kevin Adams, Spring Awakening
Christopher Akerlind, 110 in the Shade
Howard Harrison, Mary Poppins
Peter Kaczorowski, Grey Gardens

Regional Theatre Tony Award
Alliance Theatre, Atlanta, GA

My old homo-town got the Regional Theatre Tony Award. No surprise. Connections to Kenny Leon do not go unnoticed. The Alliance was the first to give Drive Me I'm Lazy ... er, Driving Miss Daisy, a major boost. It ran for a bazillion performances and I would guess that Dana Ivey was probably a major pusher of that show getting to NY. Odd fact, Dana's mother, Mary Nell Santacroce, originated the role and legend has it, was better ... but that could be a Southern thing. I'm sure the mother/daughter actresses appreciate the comparisons.

A Lady Named Katie, A Pope Named Ratz, and Newly Reformed Thompson Twins

2007-05-14T06:55:00.000-07:00

Where do I begin? There's so much to choose from current events, I'm as dizzy as a slut who just stumbled upon a leather orgy!

There's the Katie Couric mess at CBS. Everyone has an opinion. Most articles quote Katie, CBS and their cronies crying sexism. It's because women are hated in this country! When will these idiots realize, it's not because she's a woman, it's because she's fluff. Why would anyone watch an aging cheerleader tell them the news? There's naked news on the Internet and there's real reporters-turned-anchors on the other channels. Of course the ratings are sinking. I hate to put the screws to a celebrity who took it up the ass on national TV, but that was the only provocative story I can ever remember Katie doing.

Oh, and there's the pope, spewing condemnation wherever he goes. At least today, the gay's are safe since he's attacking capitalism, Marxism and globalization ... the latter, I'm sure, was born of jealousy. The papacy thinks they have a patent on globalization as they have terrorized individual souls, en masse, for centuries. Would someone pass the pope a Bible and point out the line, "There is now no condemnation for those in Christ." And yes, it really does apply to him. Of course, "The truth shall set you free" is probably a big enough hurdle for his most-high-biggot-ness.

Ahh, but I think my venom should be saved for the former Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy Thompson, now Republican presidential candidate, who's just apologized to the gays. He didn't mean to say that it was okay for homosexuals to be fired just because they're gay. What he really meant to say was that it was up to individual employers. Well, gee, then that's a whole different story, ain't it!? Wait a minute! You've never heard of Tommy Thompson? Don't worry, this is probably the last you'll hear. Tommy's raised less than a million and we all know money is what wins an election in this country -- certainly not votes. Besides, there's another conservative Republican with the same last name who might be running for President, or he might be doing more television. Yes, flagship Law & Order has been given a go for next season. What's a candidate to do?

So why do I even watch the news? Oh yeah, all those male anchors ... who's your daddy?

There's No Evil Like Pope Evil

2007-05-10T13:07:00.000-07:00

I wondered if I would ever return to the Internet-ether. Nothing seemed to motivate me completely. Oh sure, there were the occasional idiocies like the Grey's Anatomy storm or Mel Gibson doing ... well, anything, but these people are like Eagle-trade: the next day, you realize you never got a name and by nightfall, you don't remember their faces, only the vague recollections of piercings and hopefully, nothing new on you.

Butt!

Enter the most evil son of a bitch that ever walked the face of the earth. Not Hitler, not Mel, not Dubya, not even his father, but Pope Benedict, the Bad Egg. The dark-eyed closet queen who looks as if he'd snorted too many gallons of poppers in his earlier days is declaring homosexuality as "evil," making homophobia a sacrament.

Could someone explain why Isiah Washington can say something stupid with a microphone nearby and the world goes ape shit, but the man who influences religious animatrons around the globe can basically launch Catholic-jihad on queers?

To add insult to blasphemy, the man (and I use the term loosely) has said that when he planned his most recent excursion, he was attracted to certain parts of the globe that he knew needed to be visited by God. Well, can he stay away long enough for God to enjoy a visit with these folks?

And then there's the interesting statement the pointless ... er ... excuse me, pontiff made recently about love -- as if he were able to comprehend it and not consider it just another four-letter word. This demonic-beast (I refuse to use any more human terms) has preached hatred and intolerence since the day he slid into that lily-white formal gown. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazereth, Son of God, may The Beast Benedict get a complete and full reminder of what happens to those who lift themselves above the Lord. And may the Catholic Church FINALLY stop committing their own blasphemy by referring to the Egghead as The Holy Father. God is the Holy Father - the Pope is just a man and as fallible as any of us. Just because it's "Catholic doctrine" (that the Pope is infallible ... geez, talk about blasphemy) doesn't make it true.

Word has it he wants to visit New York. As if there hasn't been enough atrociticies in that city in the past decade.

Grannys Strike Again: 2005 Grammy Awards

2005-02-16T18:48:00.000-08:00

All right, yes, I'm a little late with my commenting but I had to calm down.

Dust off the soap box! Momma wants to kick up her heels again.

It is mathematically impossible that of the hundreds, nay, thousands of discs released last year that any single album could be the best in all those categories. No, I do not begrudge Mr. Charles his due. He is an amazing talent and will be sorely missed. But the Grammys haven't been so giving to him in the past and if he is one of our pioneers of today's music, then why can't somebody outshine him in any of the categories for which he was nominated? Because the Grammys are like most awards: pathetically late, self-grandiose, and oh-so-wrong to be judging art of any kind. Yet all that vote are artists. Imagine all the people. I am more convinced that this year, despite the over-the-top sentiment, they have finally named an album of the year that I could listen to. It's been awhile.

And yes, I am upset that my personal choices did not fare as well as I wanted. Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose was truly one of the best albums of the year. Leagues ahead in writing and performance alone but obviously she made the mistake of living beyond the nomination period and continuing to show signs of life. They gave her Best Country Album, much to the chagrin of the current whiners of Nashville like Montgomery Gentry, Lee Ann Womack, and dare I mention hate-monger Toby. Oh, they're behind her all the way and all, but they're also too upset that Grammy never smooches them. Well, sorry that Montgomery is a great party band (albeit scaringly too American) but Grammy don't like that. Lee Ann has a voice they love but picks boring songs except for the glaring wonder of juggernaut I Hope We Dance. And Toby, he's super and an Okie to boot but he really needs to let go of the angry in his American and get back to brotherly love and peace. Did the dope-smoking sixties teach him nothing? Oh yeah, he wasn't old enough to truly remember anything but his redneck relatives rantings of Commie-Pinkos and the Red Scare decades beyond its importance.

On to other such subjects like the infiltration of hip-hop and the end of the supposed world. Well, it's obviously not going to die ... this rap thing ... and I have come to accept that every compilation I buy will have at list one, if not three, obligatory rap screeches with a very rare exception of something interesting. And now that I find I can accept it's arrival, I was a bit disappointed in this year's selections. Kanye West is certainly a Renaissance Man and all but Jesus Walks wadn't all dat. And if Jesus is walking with him, I wish he'd talk to him about Kanye's anger issues ... then again, glass houses, Ken.

Usher did a hot live performance. And hey, who didn't love some of those combinations. Jamie Foxx! That dog! Does a movie where he pretends to be Ray Charles, so he gets to sing at the Grammys with Alicia Keys and Stevie Wonder. And then has the balls to sound good. Somebody needs to slap him upside the head with an Oscar ... but that's a whole 'nother blog (Go Jamie!). But then, oh ... Ugh! Bla! Came that horrible concoction on stage of several musicians brutally murdering an old Beatles tune. And they were some of my favorites. I don't blame Alison Krauss, though, 'cause they made her play the violin and didn't give her a microphone. She could've saved them. Or maybe not. Steven Tyler did salvage eight seconds of the song but the next rider (I'll spare him the embarrassment) fell on his ass again and all was lost. Turns out that's the tsunami relief song they planned to hawk. Poor, drowned victims.

Alas, though Rufus Wainwright's albums were both released, Want One and Want Two, - the first being the best album in more than five years - garnered nary a nod.

So, fuck the Grammys. As usual, I can't depend on what's popular, what's on the radio, or what's winning awards to find good music. I'm still totally on my own.

Who am I kidding? My boyfriend will weaken, buy Genius Loves Company, and I'll probably eat it with a spoon. But John Mayer was given more awards this year, so they're still on the hook.

Ode to Saint Valentine ... or "Happy VD" as I always say

2005-02-14T15:08:00.000-08:00

Sans any quantity of true gentlemen, New York City is not the sea of roses on Valentine's Day that Atlanta once was. Flowers aboundeth down there. Perhaps it's the weather.

There was only one bouquet delivered in my office. The sender himself. They're engaged, of course. An anomaly at the office these days. So few to are happy. A loving observer of lives and loves, I sought more responses to this hallowed event. It's a different mood in the break room at lunch when marrieds speak of the event like so much using the restroom.

"Yeah, I got four pounds of candy and a card on my way in to work. I'm covered."

The confirmed bachelor seemed confused and asked, "So what does the man get out of it?"

"Sex, if you don't say something really stupid in the next three hours after you give 'em their presents." My big, gay self explained it to him. Though not straight, I administer empathy as liberally as I do my opinions about politics and people that annoy me.

The married Italian retorted, "Why do you think I got four pounds of candy? She doesn't eat that much."

A few, much younger, bachelors couldn't have cared less. They know that as a single male, you're always the happiest guy in every room on these occasions.

And that works for us fags, too. Unless you're lucky enough to have a life-partner-you're-not-allowed-to-call-husband who couldn't give a rat's ass about getting or doing anything extra like candy we don't need or want or any of the other shit for which we're supposed to shell out hard-earned cash to feign some sort of affection when we know it comes down to whether you do everything you possibly can, every day, with care and love for the other instead of one day a year when it annoys us and constant reminders try to guilt us into their evil trap. Lucky for my sweetie, he got such a guy -- most of the time. Lucky for me, so did I.

Oh, Saint Valentine! Is this the holiday you had in mind? ... Huh! Get a load of me. Obvious ex-Catholic. Always trying to chat it up with dead Pope icons just so's I can whine.