unboughtsoul

...But Me

2012-01-26T17:41:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGGwVsvseGw

Star Trek guest stars

2012-01-26T17:39:00.000-08:00

GREATEST GUEST STAR TURNS IN STAR TREK HISTORY
-Mark Lenard: romulan commander, "Balance of Terror"
-William Campbell: Trelane, "The Squire of Gothos"
-Ricardo Montalban: Khan Noonian Singh, "Space Seed"
-Joan Collins: Edith Keeler, "The City on the Edge of Forever"
-Roger C. Carmel: Harry Mudd, "I, Mudd"
-Ricardo Montalban: Khan Noonian Singh, THE WRATH OF KHAN
-Ray Walston: Boothby, "The First Duty" TNG
-David Warner: Gul Madred, "Chain of Command" TNG
-Brian Keith: Mullibok, "Progress" DS9
-Gerritt Graham: Q, "Death Wish", VOY
-Alice Krige: borg queen, FIRST CONTACT
-John Rhys-Davies: Leonardo da Vinci, "Scorpion" VOY
-Donna Murphy: Anij, INSURRECTION
-Andy Dick: EMH Mark 2, "Message in a Bottle" VOY

not-ends 18

2012-01-26T17:22:00.000-08:00

Most people call their human nature "shortcomings", and their shortcomings "human nature".

A wise person cannot give right answers, only right questions.

Almost all mammals are born ready to roll. Only humans and kangaroos have a prolonged stage of fetal development outside the womb. Does this not suggest a possible modification to our attitudes on abortion?

Women are so well and thoroughly objectified, they never learn how to not objectify themselves. Look at their romance ads. Before you know ANYTHING about them, they insist you know their skin color and age. How fucked up is that?

The greatest dysfunction of this dysfunctional society is that lovers become memories, not friends.

You must always do what you feel is right (even though it hardly ever will be).

I love visiting cat owners. I always sneak off to poop in their litter box. I cover it up real nice, too.

Being intelligent doesn't mean you're right, it just means that your wrongness sounds better.

Why is America is the fattest country in the history of the world? McDonald's, restaurant serving sizes, poverty, child sexual molestation, and technology-enabled sloth. The first two are easily fixed, and only the last may prove unsolveable.

The best hope for a happy life in America lies in getting enough money to buy friendship and sex (or as it's known professionally, therapy and prostitutes).

Most people call their human nature "shortcomings", and their shortcomings "human nature". I know i said it twice, but you didn't think about it enough the first time.

MAS*H, season 6

2012-01-26T15:33:00.000-08:00

FOUR-STAR
-Fade Out, Fade In
Hello, Charles Emerson Winchester. Is there any show in television history which replaced beloved characters as successfully as M*A*S*H? Certainly no show ever put together their replacements' debut episodes as fantastically. This two-parter absolutely roars in...so tight and so hysterical (without any idiotic laugh track). David Ogden Stiers' performance is seamless. We instantly get his character. The chemistry between Alda, Farrell, and Morgan can't be overstated. Add Swit, Burghoff, Farr, and Christopher pinging their energy perfectly...
-Fallen Idol
Radar gets wounded while driving to Seoul to have sex for the first time. Hawkeye had urged him to go, and gets so drunk from guilt he has to leave the O.R. the next day. Radar and Hawkeye explode at each other for the first time ever. Overly sentimental? A little. Brilliant? A lot.
-The Winchester Tapes
Charles records a long letter to his wealthy folks, imploring them to use their influence to get him reassigned in Tokyo or stateside. A great episode for BJ, who pranks Charles by continually changing the size of his uniform. Hawkeye is desperately trying to get to Seoul for a weekend with Nurse Gilmore. The dialogue is brilliant, and Stiers is perfect.
-Comrades in Arms
Hawkeye and Margaret are trapped behind enemy lines. They're holding on to each other through the night in a hut while being shelled, after she'd received a poisoned letter from Donald...you may fill in that ellipse in the most sexy way you like. As wonderfully planned and acted as this is, it does make you pause a moment to think about the movie. The inconceivability of anything like this ever happening within that paradigm...yet in the series, it's hard to argue that there wasn't a certain inevitability. The uncomfortable aftermath amounts to some of Loretta's best work and a writing staff that was at its deadly best, navigating what could have been the worst M*A*S*H episode of all time in lesser hands.
-Potter's Retirement
After negative reports from within the camp on Potter's efficiency prompt an I-Corps investigation, he decides to take early retirement. The snitch (George Wyner - SPACEBALLS, HILL STREET BLUES) turns out to be a plant, courtesy of a disgruntled ex-patient. Morgan is ferocious.
NOTEWORTHY
-Last Laugh ***
James Cromwell (SIX FEET UNDER, STAR TREK: FIRST CONTACT) drops in as Leo Bardonero, BJ's college prankster buddy. Gotchas abound. Plus John Ashton (BEVERLY HILLS COP) as a dour MP.
-War of Nerves ***
Sydney drops in with a head wound suffered while making a foxhole housecall with Michael O'Keefe (CADDYSHACK, THE GREAT SANTINI). This episode almost takes the happy face off Sydney, and gives you a truer sense of the unsavory side of military psychiatrists, as you feel sympathy for a boy who loathes him for sending him back to the front. The overstressed camp lights a cathartic bonfire. Plus Pete Riegert (ANIMAL HOUSE)!
-The Light that Failed ***
A mystery novel gets torn apart and passed around chapter by chapter to a stir-crazy camp. Philip Baker Hall (MAGNOLIA) plays a cranky, jaded supply sergeant.
-In Love and War ***
A well-crafted, emotionally-resonant episode. Hawkeye falls for a Korean woman (a tender performance by Kieu Chinh, THE JOY LUCK CLUB) living in the remains of her once wealthy home, who cares for orphans. Margaret comes face to face with Donald's philandering, in the form of a new nurse who had her fingers licked. Despite this episode's excellence, this may be the moment when fans (and creators) of the movie turned off their sets for good. Any remnants of the original edginess are gone, gone...
-Images ***
Talk about high-voltage guest stars before they were famous...is that little doggie Jack from TALES OF THE GOLD MONKEY!?
-The M*A*S*H Olympics ***
Set against a Helsinki backdrop, an out-of-shape camp holds its own Olympiad. Donald shows up. As fun and memorable as three stars gets.
-The Grim Reaper **
Ewwwwf. Col. Bloodworth, a casualty predictor, is strongly disliked by Capt. Niceguy, er, Pierce. The writing is so lacking in subtlety that a two year-old might look askance. The only thing that rescues this a bit is a sub-plot with Charles sharing canned, botulistic pheasant with Margaret.
-Your Hit Parade ***
Really quite sweet, with a semi-retro feel. Radar entertains the camp as a DJ, during a marathon O.R. stretch. This one makes the top-ten Radar list (without a bullet).
-Mail Call Three ***
All the necessaries for four stars...perhaps just an extra take or two away. Klinger's wife leaves him, BJ's wife becomes independent, Hawkeye receives torrid letters belonging to another Benjamin Pierce, and Radar's Mom is dating. Another Radar top-ten.
-Dr. Winchester and Mr. Hyde ***
The first sitcom to ever deal with amphetamine addiction? The first network prime time show, even?

elisabeth

2012-01-24T06:51:00.000-08:00

WOMEN 37
I was part of a crew of three she hired to help do a one-mile move to her new home in Brooklyn. The energy was pleasant, and i liked her immediately. At one point she and i were getting ready to take apart her son's yellow plastic car-bed. She was way too big for it, but laid back with a sigh, smiling at me. Attraction literally jolted me. During lunch break, she and i ate alone at her old apartment. We sat on the kitchen floor, our extremities brushing. At the end of the move, one of the other guys asked her out. He was a bit of a jerk, so i let him have his failed moment. When the others were gone, i offered to help her get settled. After fifteen minutes or so, she wanted to walk to a park. It was a beautiful spring day, and the first two parks we found (neighborhood gardens, really) were locked. We decided to climb the ten-foot wall of the second one. Once inside, we explored and found a spot to lie down. My head was against her side, and for the next couple hours, lazing in the sun, we talked and let our hands absent-mindedly wander. So sweetly beautiful. When we were finally interrupted by a group who had a key, we strolled back to her place. With the setting sun streaming through the living room blinds, she lay down on her stomach on a bare mattress, her contented eyes closed. I undressed her and ran my long hair slowly up and down her, then gently blew on her skin everywhere, and placed lingering baby kisses all over her back and flanks. She had such soft skin, with one of the most kissable tuchuses i'd ever encountered. Darkness now around us, i took off my clothes and lay down. We slowly intertwined, gently kissing. She was slender, shorter than average, with thin, very fine hair and a beautiful non-athletic body. Her breasts had obviously gone through motherhood (i recalled a comedienne's joke about post-weaning breasts looking like empty socks). It was my first adult experience with such breasts. Would i have preferred the non-droopy version? Sure. But i quickly forgot about it. With her son at his dad's, she invited me to stay the night. I wanted to shower, but the water wasn’t connected. We had sweated together during the day, and our unwashed bodies clung together through the night. Looking over at one point, she asked me to stay perfectly still. She said i looked like an angel. In the morning as we awoke, i gently placed her hand on my erection. She grasped me and began kissing my chest, then lay her head on my stomach. I expected her to just look at me, but after one or two light kisses, her mouth started to envelop me. For a few microseconds as i realized things might be going too quickly (and also remembering how overdue for a shower i was), i thought of stopping her. But the beauty of our togetherness had me in its spell, and her exquisite mouth took me in. She lovingly pleasured me…i was confident i wouldn’t come, and after a few minutes she came up for some deep kissing. She was soon off to school (she was a therapist working on an advanced degree). At her place a couple nights later, i told her about Vanessa, and that it might be wise to slow things down. We spent a sweet night together, with underwear and just a little kissing. Over the next month, i realized that i hadn’t been fully aware of how in love with Vanessa i was. My affection and respect for Elisabeth grew. She had survived a lot. Not only a ridiculously malicious divorce, but a debilitating illness that had wasted away at her for a year. But i sensed that her affections weren’t about to displace Vanessa (sadly realizing that my awareness of how long a round trip to her took, faintly paralleled Vanessa's no longer wanting to deal with visiting me in JC). Eventually Elisabeth broke contact, saying that she didn’t want to be the newest link in a chain of unbalanced love. She reappeared a few months later. I told her that Vanessa and i had broken off our half-romance, but that i was still very much in love. Elisabeth and i began sharing romance again. After a month or so, she cut it off again when i told her i wasn’t thinking about a future with her. This couldn’t have been much of a revelation, but something in my frankness must have broken something in her, despite her earlier protests of only wanting whatever i had to offer. In that month, there was one night that captured the beauty of our first afternoon. The first and only time she came to visit me in Jersey, she arrived at the door uncharacteristically wearing makeup. I was a little turned off, but she was in such good spirits i didn’t mention it. We came together that night in slow, profound embraces. I was still careful to stop just short of penetration. So many moments i held my rigid self against her warm, yielding sex…it was so mind-blowing that i can’t be sure there wasn’t even a little shallow penetration. During one of these moments, i was above her and looked down…and words will fail to describe how intensely she radiated beauty and openness. In that moment, i knew that there had never been a more beautiful human being. She later told me that every minutest physical movement i made that night was profound and perfect. In the weeks and months to come, i faintly regretted not penetrating her that night. I don't doubt that she would have received me with mindless happiness. We stayed in contact after our second romantic break, and had some nice moments together, particularly one afternoon when we chatted as i bathed in her tub while eating Chinese. I greeted her that day with a long embrace, during which my lips brushed against the base of her neck, and my head swam. My desire for her had only grown with time, so i knew that we needed to take another break from each other, as i wasn’t going to stop wanting her anytime soon. We stayed in distant contact for about a year. During that time, she sent me a photo of herself one day, naked with a big red "A" painted on her stomach. She'd had an abortion. I felt miserable for her, and for myself, that she had been in the arms of some idiot when she should have been with me. A couple months later, i wrote to her in a moment of loneliness. She told me to come to her. We spent the night together. I intended no sexuality, but that intent didn't survive her soft kisses. On that sad, lonely night, her loving made me a little more human. But soon after, she complained about the inconsistency of my behavior. I retreated again. Months later we had another sexual encounter, unexpected and less inhibited, pleasuring each other orally on her kitchen counter, the first such contact since our very first night. That night, she probably pleasured me longer orally than any woman ever had. It was so wonderful, and i wanted more, but a part of me knew i probably could never be what she wanted, and i died inside at the thought of being destructive with her. I read with her a play i'd written, in which one of the characters was based on her. It was a beautiful experience, and we held each other afterward. I always had hope that she would figure out how to use my love in her life, but when she finally got engaged to be re-married, i offered to leave her life for good. I hadn't been able to bring myself to tell her that deep down, i felt that anything was possible…that even though it had been my intuition that we weren’t meant to be any kind of life partners, as time wore on i became less sure of that. Years later, she told me that on our first night she felt she had found her "ever-after", the man who would be all the things her husband had failed to be. I found her words both moving and heart-rending (cue Dylan's "It Ain't Me, Babe"?). Because she was a single mother, i was always less impulsive with her than i otherwise would have been (something she was aware of and didn't like). I wanted to be a loving part of her life forever, but we just couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

The God Buffet

2012-01-23T17:18:00.000-08:00

THEATER 58
-summer 2001
I was ready to act and direct again. It was becoming apparent that Donna was the likely candidate to carry the Orpheus torch after i left, so i included her in all creative decisions from this point on. She talked about projects she wanted to do, and one of them, GOD’S SPIES by Don Nigro, became the starting point of our next project. She wanted to do just a monologue, but i suggested we do the whole short play as part of an evening of theater with a holy theme. We called it THE GOD BUFFET. I performed "The Law", from DRINKING IN AMERICA. Donna added a character named Cammy Faye, who riled up the crowd with an extemporaneous intro for my character, the Rev. Blackwater. Our second piece was another Donna find called "Rosary", by Jean-Claude Van Itallie. It was a monologue of a nun on a solitary subway train, confessing to God her lustful feelings for a woman. Zendyn Duellman auditioned, and she was perfect. We found two filmmakers, Evan Munro and Jason Padilla, who shot a film that accompanied Zendyn's performance. We filmed at the Catholic church down the beach, inside and out. A collage of holy images, Zendyn in nature, close-up body shots, and a rosary falling apart. Zendyn sat in front of the screen, and the effect was quite beautiful and disturbing (the first time i viewed it, i joked that i felt dirty). I spent extra time working with her, as the monologue was ridiculously tough. She was a Zoroastrian from India, newly married to an American named Greg. Her company was as delightful as her talent. She would be out of town our final weekend, so we cast Nancy DeFonzo as her understudy. Nancy had provided costumes for earlier shows, and i was glad to give her this opportunity. Our third piece was one of my Monty Python favorites, "St. Victor". It's a scripture reading by a vicar, played by me. I'm the soul of piety, but when i start droning on about how Victor is beset by Oriental maidens who nibble his ears, and an angel of the Lord escorts him into the jacuzzi, we know that we're no longer in Leviticus, Toto. Our fourth piece got Shane back onstage, doing another Python piece with me called "Protestantism". I play a perpetually-repressed housewife listening to my husband drone on about the bloody Catholics, and how advanced we protestants are with our contraceptive ways. I ask whether we can try some of these condoms, but he just keeps grousing. I'm in full-blown housewife drag, and Shane was wonderful. We added extra bits of dialogue. Very funny. Our final piece was GOD'S SPIES. The setting was a Christian talk show, hosted by the perpetually perky Dale Clabby, played by Zendyn. I played the first guest, Calvin Stringer, a religious researcher railing about the devil in music and tarot cards. I got a buzz cut, a bow tie, and white bucks. Donna was the second guest, young Wendy Trumpy, telling about how she found God in a belfry. An amazing monologue about a pedophile priest and an escaped convict. We added a non-speaking character, having Shane play Wendy's little brother, Lumpy. He sat by her chair in a blonde Beatle wig, dozing off and being just incredibly funny. At the start, Dale's pushing Bible sales, but Wendy has her being more giving by the end. Donna and i co-directed. She took charge of "Rosary", we shared on GOD'S SPIES, and i did most of the work on the other three. There was a sixth piece i wrote, an autobiographical monologue about a young person's cathartic realization that there is no God. But i couldn't convince the others or myself that it was good enough, so we dropped it. Having Nancy as understudy proved a challenge, as she was in the midst of an extended mental breakdown. I tried to help, but just brought her wrath on my head, and she was institutionalized by the time the run was over. It wasn't until the final week that we knew she wouldn't perform. We called on Amanda, who stepped right in. We decided that there was no way Amanda could have "Rosary" ready in only a few days (Donna didn't want to attempt it, either). We did the piece as just the film, with Zendyn's recorded voice, which made for a powerful experience in and of itself. This left Amanda to work on Dale Clabby. She and i had long joked about Amanda's slight Wisconsin accent, and i told her to try the part as a full-blown Wisconsinite. I was already playing Calvin as a Wisconsinite, and our back and forth turned out to be comedic gold. That last weekend was so much fun. The entire run was a delight. Our crowds were small, but happy. We decided that a lot of religious folk stayed away because they rightly suspected there was irreverence going on, and non-believers stayed away because they thought it was some sort of revival.

waiting...

2012-01-22T15:10:00.000-08:00

Here i am, writing a blah article i'd hoped to avoid. You might want to check out that new Don Rickles/Martha Stewart bar mitzvah-tips site today instead.
My quest to hire a prostitute to have non-sexual physical (and hopefully emotional) intimacy with, is in a holding pattern. In more than a month, i've made e-mail contact with four or five women. Two or three petered out quickly. In the early written stages, i generally send a photo that matches whatever level of nakedness they've shared with me, plus a link to the article that introduces this project, and some version of these words:
If we do this, you won't have to care about me...but i will very much care about you. If you don't want me to care about you, just tell me. I still will, but i'll keep it to myself. Our relationship will not end when this project ends....unless we want it to. We will be naked. Hopefully not just physically. No words, no emotions are off limits. We won't pretend our arm's not falling asleep or that somebody doesn't have bad breath (everyone gets bad breath except puppies). Any non-sexual touching will be allowed, for us both. Our first get-together probably won't involve much talking, as there's usually greater honesty in non-verbal communication. Our first time might just involve a massage for you, and maybe some cuddling.
Deciding how much money to offer took some thinking. The going rate for paid sex on craigslist NYC is $40-$250. I offer a sum just above the low end. It would be easier to find candidates if i offered more, but aside from the fact that i'm not independently wealthy, there's a reason why i don't - it removes the solely mercenary applicants. There's a good chance a woman i hire at this rate will be genuinely curious about the "human interest" part of this project.
A part of me wants to find the right woman the first time out, but another part of me (the part that's dying from lack of touch) doesn't mind the thought of having a few "first meetings" that don't go beyond that.
As i look at the pictures attached to the CL ads, never have i felt more in touch with my visually-intuitive skills. In deciding which women to approach, it feels so easy to root out those who aren't what i'm looking for. There's such a murky, unending sea of ads to search through however (many of which are sometimes-clever fakes) i sometimes despair of finding the right woman. But i'm mostly confident that patience will be rewarded. The odds seem to be that she'll be of the "college student needs help with bills" variety.
The two interactions i've had that didn't peter out, each lasted weeks. The first was profoundly exciting. I felt an instant connection, affinity, and trust. She was open, and we talked about all sorts of things. When i saw her photos, my heartrate changed. She wore heels and just a little makeup, but it seemed like those were concessions she made for the sake of attracting the average idiot male. I based that upon her short and unpainted nails, few or no piercings, and natural-looking bush. I quickly realized that she was also more intelligent than she gave herself credit for. Within a few days, i knew with a curious certainty that if i ever held her, i would fall in love. Finally though, she bowed out when the intimacy of holding a stranger overwhelmed her. Amazing. Not crazy, but amazing. To be able to share humanity's most intimate act with total strangers, but be overwhelmed by holding...
The second woman had a very icy quality in her head shot. Not cruel, but icy. No makeup. There was something about it that was very honest, and when she told me she had some crazy stories to share, i believed her. It took a while to be convinced that she was as intelligent as she advertised, as she was very non-communicative, responding to questions with the bare minimum or less. The fact that her second photo (her naked, raised posterior) should have come across as vulgar or common, yet somehow was eye-poppingly beautiful, was no doubt also a factor in why i indulged her postponements and bad communication (Do you know those women who have a space between the top of their legs that is conspicuously wide? Something disturbingly sexy about that, and she has it.) But mostly, i just felt i was supposed to trust her. And i was fascinated by the thought of getting to know someone who knew she was more intelligent than most of the johns she serviced.
The night before we were to meet, she was raped. Not by a client, but by someone she trusted and loved.
My focus shifted to offering her unconditional friendship and comfort. A week later, she told me that, outside of the police and her roommate, i'm the only person she's told about the rape. In addition to e-mails, we've started talking on the phone.
The search continues...

polite genital kiss

2012-01-18T18:05:00.000-08:00

Who were those visionaries who saw the minute gears of a massive world turning, and had one single moment of inspiration that blossomed into something bigger than us all?
The first Scotsman to leave his underwear at home?
The first Greek to kiss double-cheek?
The first Frenchwoman to french? (and yes, it was a woman...men are only so creative at making things go boom)
Were these visionaries aware of what they wrought, or did their moments come unconsciously, simply doing what they must?
The first music fan to hold aloft a lighter?
The first New Orleansian to flash her boobies for costume jewelry?
The first negro to fist-bump? (this one was very conscious...some ebony machiavelli creating something for white boys in corporate offices to eagerly copy in their desperate need for acceptance)
I'm ready.
Ready to take my place among history's creators of culture and molders of mores.
In this post post-modern world, sometimes within the span of a single generation, advances in technology change our lives so quickly that our interpersonal gestures and language lag far behind. In today's world, the polite ending to a failed first date is a shoulder-led hug, a mawkish handshake, or at most a kiss on the cheek. But are those gestures appropriate to the computer age? We no longer meet the way we used to.
Why should we part the way we used to?
In ancient times, people on a first date actually knew each other before they dated. Amazing, i know. They had interacted in some social setting, and generally had a reasonably good idea of whether they might want a naked pillow fight with their date partner. Yes, there was the occasional blind date, but less than most people imagine. Blind dates make great Hollywood devices, but in the real world...well, when i was first tossed into the dating pool, internet romancing was only a gleam in Al Gore's eye, and i've been on exactly zero (0) old-fashioned blind dates in my life. I've set up exactly zero (0) blind dates in my life. Maybe that's just me? No. Everyone who's ever had a blind date, stand up. If you're standing, you're quite the adventurer (or perhaps just more open about your desperation than most of us, bless you).
But in the computer age, almost all first dates are...blind. You get yourself all scrubbed and presentable, do a thorough tongue-scraping, make sure you have enough money in your wallet to cover things if he or she doesn't go dutch, and get ready to invest a couple hours of your all-too-fleeting life in the presence of someone who might make your skin crawl.
A few among us have the presence of mind to flee the scene the instant they spot their intended.
The polite or stupid rest of us usually squirm through an excruciating interlude of cappucinos or museum chit-chat, during which your libido is as dead as those items in the glass cases. At the end of which, we muster the courage to actually put our arms briefly around this sexless, pathetic wonk before somebody says "Let's do this again". One of you might even mean it (but it sure ain't you).
It's time to humanize this process.
An era of blind dates is an era of failed dates. Even if all things add up (which they don't), at best we're looking at a 25% success rate, given the four possible outcomes: mutual antipathy, he/she wants you, you want her/him, or mutual ecstasy.
At best, 25%.
So it's time to soften this process for all of us. Heck, for some, saying "no" is even more painful than being rejected.
It's time to do away with the polite hug, handshake, or cheek kiss. We need a new failed date gesture. Something more merciful than the methods currently employed, which allow for hope where none should exist. Even if you're leaning in for your hug at a forty-five degree angle, it's possible for the other person to think, "I'm being HUGGED! They want to hold me!!!"
It's time, my friends, to say hello to the polite goodbye genital kiss.
Here's how it works.
Anyone who lives through a first date with someone they'd rather put behind them as quickly as possible, must signify this fact by kneeling before their date partner when it's time for goodbye. The person standing will know that it's now their job to lower their pants. Or lift their skirt. Underwear down, too. The kneeler gently kisses the stander on the genitals. Both parties then proceed with their lives.
I'm talking about closed-mouth kissing. Get your mind out of the gutter.
The societal benefits of this will be immeasurable. The stander's sense of rejection will be enormously mitigated. How can any day be a bad day when your genitals were kissed? It's psychologically beneficial for the kneeler as well, a gentle reminder that they probably have WAY too high an opinion of themselves. You're too good for this person, Mr./Ms. kneeler? Actually NO, you're probably not...and it's probably good for everyone concerned that the whole world gets to see how great you think you are. In a world like that, we might just start finding it harder to throw people away like used tissues. And think of how many romances might be born of a bystander observing a goodbye genital kiss, who is then moved to provide the receiver with some on-the-spot comfort and commiseration.
The most complicated scenario will be if both parties find the date a crashing failure. When this happens, they must simultaneously kiss each other on the genitals. The simple logistics of this will humanize the experience...for at least one tiny moment, the comedic intimacy will most assuredly create a genuine human connection. I'll go even further, to predict that some of the most touching love stories of humanity's near future will involve Grandma and Grandpa admitting to their grandchildren that yes, their first date ended with a mutual genital kiss.
Then they'll argue about who kneeled first.

The Offhand Club

2012-01-14T16:23:00.000-08:00

offhander - (n.) Someone who uses their non-dominant hand to masturbate.

You may not be as unique as you think.
If you're an offhander, that is.
I've been an offhander for many years, and for most of that time assumed that this was just another example of wacky, quirky me, and that i could generally count on being the only offhander at any party.
Not so fast.
The topic of masturbation came up while chatting with friends on a recent road trip, and i discovered that half the people in the car were offhanders. While i'm not suggesting that this means that 50% of the population go the other way, i am suggesting that perhaps there's one in every crowd, at the very least. There are several compelling reasons why someone might become an offhander:
THE SENSITIVITY FACTOR
This may be the rarest factor, but i'll start here since it's what brought me into the off-handing world. At a certain point in their sexual lives, people who think about sex a whole lot (not just doing it, but the intricacies thereof) may realize that, because they've always masturbated with their dominant hand, their off hand is far less dextrous in matters sexual. This lesson is brought home the first time you try to masturbate with your off hand. Ever see the first time someone tries to throw an off-handed ball? That's what your first offhanding attempt will be like. Most people might let it end there...but there are a few intrepid souls in this world who want to be ready when, say, two women ask you to simultaneously masturbate them. The fact that this has never yet happened to me, makes me no less determined to be "ready for my closeup" the moment the DeMille twins, Carla and Darla, beckon. So began my own offhanding journey. You will be happy to know that, even though you might never shoot an off-handed basketball through the hoop, proficiency in sexual offhanding comes quickly. In fact, if you don't mix it up, you'll quickly find that your dominant hand feels clumsy.
THE INJURY FACTOR
It's likely that the majority of offhanders became initiated to this world through dominant-hand injury. I don't know the numbers, but i think we can assume that the greater percentage of hand injuries are on the dominant hand. When faced with a masturbationless month on account of a broken pinkie, i suspect there are very few people who won't quickly introduce Mr./Ms. Tinglybits to Mr./Ms. Offhand.
THE MOUSE-PORN FACTOR
Credit for this one goes to astute reader Max, who pointed out that auto-doodling while looking at computer porn requires that your dominant hand be engaged in operating the mouse. As someone who always takes my tingly bits to bed (or the shower or the driveway) for masturbation, i never would have thought of that.
THE HANGING FACTOR
This last factor is the reason that there are probably more male offhanders than female. At a certain point in most male's lives, they will realize that their junk is hanging more and more to one particular side, and many will then wonder whether years of dominant hand yanking and spanking has been a contributing factor. I can present no evidence that offhanding will bring you "back to center", however. After years of offhanding, i still hang to the right.
So, the next time you find yourself at some festive gathering where the conversation is flagging...next Thanksgiving dinner, perhaps...you can now inject a shot of adrenaline into the discourse. Ask all the offhanders to raise their hands. Either one will do.
The Offhand Club.
Can we get T-shirts made?

Hand of the Almighty

2012-01-13T09:03:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLwtqwnI6ko

Double Fantasy Stripped

2012-01-12T10:07:00.000-08:00

I just listened to DOUBLE FANTASY STRIPPED DOWN, by John & Yoko, a 2010 re-release that takes away a lot of the production of the original album. As John might have cheekily said, it's a religious fucking experience. The sound washes over you, leaving you starry-eyed. Original producer Jack Douglas worked with Yoko on this. Back in 80', Jack was dismissed for the production of MILK & HONEY, even though he oversaw the recording (one can only hope that he gets to work on a re-release of that one, too). Most notably gone on STRIPPED are the double-tracked lead vocals, because John was insecure about his voice. The album is more acoustic, but the changes can be unpredictable. They didn't just pare away the originals, they often started from different takes entirely. Harmonies and instrumentations disappear, sometimes leaving you singing the missing sound. Altogether different harmonies and instrumentations appear. Surprisingly, Yoko's tracks are even more altered than John's, particularly "Every Man Has a Woman Who Loves Him" and "Hard Times are Over", which now play essentially as duets between the two, a beautiful way to end the album.
It's bizarre, the relationship one has with Yoko's songs. It's always been easy to dismiss them entirely...indeed, my baby brothers didn't even know until they were adults that Yoko had songs on the album, so deft was i at lifting and replacing the needle perfectly. Yet i had played her songs enough so that i knew them intimately...and as the years went by, i began to grow a certain affection for them. Never has that been so true as during this first listen of STRIPPED DOWN. I'm not saying i'll never again skip her tracks, but...as a conceptual whole, the album stands, something i'd never granted before. How much was John propping her up, musically? Did he co-write her songs? I don't know. To what extent was the album an honest portrayal of their lives? It's fascinating to read an insider's portrayal, like that of John's assistant Fred Seaman, to ponder what may have been missing from the lyrics. Was John preparing to leave her for good? A question that fortunately doesn't need to be answered, to love the album for what it is. A grownup Beatle and wife, making an album about grownup life. I'm honestly not sure which version will end up being my preferred, over time. STRIPPED DOWN is that good.

Tales of the Gold Monkey

2012-01-11T15:32:00.000-08:00

1982-1983
Set in the late 30s, this adventure series by Donald Bellasario (MAGNUM P.I., QUANTUM LEAP) capitalized on the success of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. The irrepressible Mike Post gave us the music. The lovable Stephen Collins (STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE, SEVENTH HEAVEN) stars as Pacific islands bush pilot Jake Cutter, who flies his seaplane in and out of all sorts of trouble, with Japanese and Nazis and other unsavories. Sweet Jeff MacKay (MAGNUM P.I., BATTLESTAR GALACTICA) is his alcoholic mechanic Corky. Caitlin O'Heaney (THE CHARMINGS) plays damsel-in-distress and part-time spy Sarah White. John Calvin (NORMA RAE, THE PAUL LYNDE SHOW) is missionary/Nazi spy Reverend Tenboom. Marta DuBois (MCBRIDE, and the unforgettable temptress/con artist Ardra in NEXT GENERATION's "Devil's Due") plays island princess Koji. Leo plays lovable one-eyed dog Jack. Lending the perfect final brush stroke, the inestimable Roddy McDowall plays saloon owner Bon Chance Louie. There's a minor cheese factor and an occasionally loose affiliation with plausibility. Charming? Yes. Worth the time for anyone who isn't overly-sentimental about the 80s? Not really, no.
-Tales of the Gold Monkey ****
This two-hour TV movie is a wonderful ride. John Hillerman (BLAZING SADDLES, MAGNUM P.I.) plays a Hitler lookalike Nazi. Louie is capably played by Ron Moody (OLIVER!)...but admittedly without the zing that Roddy would bring. Jake loses Jack's glass eye in a poker game, and gets into all sorts of misadventure trying to get it back. Nice chemistry between he and the uptight Sarah (with a slight cringe factor as he repeatedly threatens to spank her for her). It's a touch more risque than you might expect, as the "blessings" Reverend Tenboom gives the native girls are thinly-veiled humpings. The climax comes on a mystery island where everyone is searching for a legendary gold monkey, said to have supernatural metallurgical properties. There are huge killer monkeys running around. Just go with it.
-Shanghaied ***
Corky is kidnapped by slavers, to fix their boat. Princess Koji spends much of the episode in the bath, then helps our heroes go after her renegade half-brother. A slave girl puts mud on Corky's face. Did i mention that Koji spends much of the episode in the tub?
-Black Pearl ***
Nazis are experimenting on an atom bomb. Jake pretends to be a double agent, and ends up posing as a fencing master on a U-Boat. He sabotages the bomb test, in a way that is historically compelling.
-Legends are Forever ***
An old, irascible pilot buddy (William Lucking) convinces Jake to go on a mission of mercy (which is in reality a hare-brained treasure hunt). Somehow, a tribe of Watusi who may have King Solomon's treasures, are living on a nearby island. It all glamorizes violence too much, but go with it...the lake landing and the fight over the gorge are amazing eye candy.
-Escape from Death Island ***
Jake and Corky fly an Englishman to visit his son on a penal island. A noble deed lands them in chains. Jack runs around, eluding pursuit.
-Trunk from the Past ***
Okay, now we've got Egyptians on one of the Marivellas. Do they have a pyramid? Yup. Just go with it, their worship of Jack as a god is too much fun.
-Honor Thy Brother *
An otherwise lovely episode starring M*A*S*H's favorite Korean, Soon-Tek Oh, darkened by one of Hollywood's most enduring failures, the notion that there are two kinds of women - "pretty" ones and those you demean.
-The Lady and the Tiger ***
Not every series has an episode that is off-the-charts bizarro. Say hello to this'n. Jake crashes on a Pacific island populated by...Amish. Wait, there's more. A troop of Japanese soldiers is stationed there, and their commander dresses and talks like...a wild west cowpoke. Jake is taken in by a widow and her son, and before long she's sucking face with him. The widow? Have some tissues ready for your pants, sci fi fanboys. Anne Lockhart, of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA! And oh yeah, there's a tiger running around. If i tell you i didn't make all that up, would you believe me? The Archipeligo of Time has nothin' on them Marivellas! It's not quite pop culture nirvana, as the messages about "there's a time for killin'" are a bit tough to stomach. But if you want to experience one of the trippiest retro-TV nights, watch this alongside GALACTICA's "The Lost Warrior". Both scripts were penned by Bellisario. I may be the first person in the history of the world to realize this, but i will bet good money that this episode was the result of a wager...someone bet Don he couldn't re-shoot "The Lost Warrior" for GOLD MONKEY, leaving out not a single major plot point.
-The Late Sarah White ***
Sarah supposedly dies, but Jack and Jake don't buy it. Before long, they're knee deep in angry Philipinos, a real and a fake MacArthur, and Princess (sigh) Koji.
-The Sultan of Swat **
"Babe Ruth" drops in, on his way to a goodwill tour in China. He's suddenly framed for raping and murdering a dewy and heart-stopping Nia Peeples (WALKER, TEXAS RANGER!). Throw in a little James T. Callahan (CHARLES IN CHARGE) for good measure. It's sappy and violent and void of deftness, but Roddy McDowall shines.
-Ape Boy **
Our heroes crash, and find an island boy raised by apes. They struggle over whether to bring him to civilization, while Princess Koji allows white men to trap him.
-God Save the Queen ***
The Goose delivers a nobleman to the Queen Victoria, and our heroes get caught up in a royal revenge scheme to blow up the ship (and the ex-king Duke of Windsor). Excitement worthy of a pilot (episode, not aviator), plus a not-exactly credited appearance by Bubba Smith. He and James Avery (FRESH PRINCE OF BEL-AIR) sport cockney accents, and actually get away with it.
-High Stakes Lady ***
Jake agrees to accompany a woman to a high-stakes poker game. It's romance, international intrigue, betrayal, and stolen Japanese plans.
-Force of Habit ***
An ex-girlfriend now a nun with a secret, a stolen clipper plane, a cache of gold...
-Cooked Goose ***
The seaplane explodes, and a passed-out Corky is blamed. A buddy's fiance is kidnapped by mercenaries bearing Princess Koji's emblem. The Princess agrees to help, to clear her name. Marta DuBois makes me feel funny.
-Last Chance Louie **
Very ambitious. Louie shoots a man, and faces the guillotine. A great opportunity sunk by a Hollywood ending and groan-inducing button. With V's Faye Grant.
-Naka Jima Kill ***
A school chum of Sarah's (Kim Cattrall - PORKY'S, SEX IN THE CITY) hires Jake to take her to the Japanese Mandate for an illegal interview. Koji lovers, your "return" on this episode will be considerable.
-Boragora or Bust ***
A local miner strikes it rich, and his claim gets jumped. Wonderful action.
-A Distant Shout of Thunder **
It never gels, as this tale of native religion turning against the French occupation has the malodorous whiff of paternalistic, colonial condescencion.
-Mourning Becomes Matuka ***
A Koji-heavy episode primed me for a starburst of a series finale. It falls a bit short (and of course, the creators had no idea it was the finale). Koji's life is threatened, and Jake agrees to be her bodyguard. After a staged death, all of the bathing screentime goes to Koji's opportunistic sister. Which isn't a sad thing in and of itself...ah well, when all was said and done, it was Jake and Koji who did the vertical mambo, not Sarah. That ain't nothin'. The final cockpit scene with Corky is pretty sweet, too.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Lost World

2012-01-10T17:33:00.000-08:00

ALLEN-A-THON
Irwin Allen, one of the most prolific producers of TV and movie sci fi/adventure in the 60s and 70s, doesn't, well, deserve a marathon. His products were generally lacking in intelligence and vision, often feministly regressive...plus everybody smoked. However, i'll give you one that's worth a whirl, just for the historical fascination and visual lollapalooza. It's a two-parter, with bizarrely mirroring elements.
Part 1:
-VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
-"Eleven Days to Zero", VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
The 1961 movie and 1964 TV series pilot. The movie is a wild ride. Slow and tame by modern standards, it really is charming when you appreciate what they accomplished with the technology of the day. Walter Pidgeon (FORBIDDEN PLANET) leads a state-of-the-art nuclear sub on a mission to save the world from environmental calamity. Peter Lorre and Frankie Avalon are along for the ride. A baby Barbara Eden wears a uniform that was never approved by the quartermaster. And sci fi supporting uber-hero Michael Ansara (LOST IN SPACE, STAR TREK, BUCK ROGERS, DS9, VOYAGER) plays a holy zealot who gets kicked around by the writers sooooo obviously, you almost for a moment feel sorry for religion. The pilot is rendered fascinating, because three years later TV was still in black and white, and hysterical, because it re-uses almost all the adventure footage from the movie, re-imagined to match a new storyline.
Part 2:
-THE LOST WORLD
-"Turn Back the Clock", VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
-"Hot Line", VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
Okay, Irwin plunders footage from movie to make TV spinoff. Why not? Who wouldn't? But does Irwin stop there? Noooooo. He also plunders the action sequences from his 1960 Arthur Conan Doyle dinosaur adventure to make a 1964 TV submarine adventure. Brilliant! In modern terms, it would be like splicing footage from JURASSIC PARK into an episode of WALKER, TEXAS RANGER...which, come to think of it, seems only fitting. THE LOST WORLD is a little incoherent and a lot dated, particularly in the regressive anti-feminism department. And the pre-PETA real life animal fight might turn your stomach. Another sci fi immortal (Michael Rennie - THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL) stars, along with Fernando Lamas and David Hedison, who would star as the television version of Captain Crane in VTTBOTS. Splicing LOST WORLD footage of Hedison into a new television plotline requires some continuity adroitness (especially the part where they have a buttoned-up naval captain suddenly sporting a yellow cravat). And they bring back Vitina Marcus to shoot new footage of the semi-clad jungle girl (yay!). Plus, hold on to your knickers, Yvonne Craig (Batgirl!). It's all pretty darned hysterical when viewed together, but you've got to doff your cap to that can-do attitude. "Hot Line" is entirely unconncected to the marathon theme, but i include it because it's irresistible. The crew work with a Soviet scientist (Michael Ansara again!) to dismantle a bomb. John Banner (Schulz - HOGAN'S HEROES) is the Russian prime minister. Our president's chief aide? Good ol' Jimmy Doohan (STAR TREK).

the search...

2012-01-08T08:56:00.000-08:00

My quest to hire a prostitute to hold nakedly once a week for an unknown span of time, has begun.
Not on a street corner, but on the internet. Craigslist. The wellspring of 90% of my NYC jobs, 50% of my love life, plus free TVs, eyeglasses, and a kickass backless computer chair.
I make my way to the romance subsection "casual encounters". Not all ads in this section are part of the sex trade...but most, to be sure. After a few days, you get to know the usual suspects all too well. They occasionally change their post titles, sucking you back in (so to speak).
And just whom am i trying to find? Above all, someone i can trust and like. The major question, sociologically, is whether to choose someone i'm attracted to. But that's problematic. No matter what she looks like, the odds of not being attracted to any woman who passes my criteria are slim. For no matter how much we are visual creatures (and we are, googily moogily we are...), attraction is also very much between the ears. On top of that, the non-sociological part of my quest (my need for human touch) screams at me to pick someone that the reptilian part of my brain would WANT to hold. So let's not kid ourselves - in some way small or large (probably closer to large), i'm going to be attracted to this woman.
Whom am i screening out? Anyone not independent (fortunately, the internet has probably cut down on the number of sex workers forced to operate with a "pimp"). Drug-users. The obviously unintelligent. Anyone glam or trashy (the second term i don't mean in a pejorative way, the first one i do). Anyone who's, y'know, dead inside.
So...i'm looking for an independent prostitute with intelligence who's not big on makeup and doesn't need something to "take the edge off" to get through life.
Hm.
Yes, it occurs to me that this may be as tall an order as finding a Middle Eastern who thinks Americans are neat-o, or a woman who "gets" me.
As you dive into the search...well, not to bring race into it, but certain generalities do pop out. As much as i'd love an Asian woman, it's hard to find one who seems like her own person. It's hard to find a white woman who doesn't come off as dumb or trashy (but that may partly be a by-product of me finding white women a bit pasty the older i get...which may be a by-product of my longing for a world of racially indistinct babies). African-american women seem to be divided into two groups: the not-trashy and the uber-trashiest. Indian and hispanic seem generality-free.
You also very quickly feel empathy for all those women who complain about online would-be suitors sending penis shots. Now don't get me wrong, i'm a vagina fan. A super fan. A super-duper, loop-di-looper fan. But a smidgen of subtlety isn't necessarily a bad thing. Indeed, there are some photos attached to these ads for which the only sane response is "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"*, as you try to decide whether you should claw your eyes out. At that moment, if the woman of your dreams were to appear, asking you to make love, you would have to ask her whether she can come back in an hour. If she said she had to get on a train to leave forever...you'd agree, but only on the condition that you be allowed to keep your eyes closed.

*See earlier note on African-american women.

pain's whisper

2012-01-06T19:15:00.000-08:00

I've set off on a journey to understand the world of prostitution as intimately as the boundaries of my personality will allow: intimate holding without sex, for money.
Within the past 24 hours, the sputtering contact i'd made with two women seemed suddenly to be on the verge of fruition. It seemed likely that i would be in someone's arms today.
That this didn't happen, has slammed home the reality that my journey is about more than sociological curiosity.
I sit alone in the darkness tonight, my loneliness a visceral thing, gripping my chest.
Forced to learn again that emptiness is far easier to bear when there is no reprieve at hand.
When there is no hope.
There are some who say that if i am lonely, it can only be of my own choosing. I am too smart and attractive to not have love if i want it, they say.
And in truth...
I know of a woman less than seventy feet away on this cold, dark night who would be overjoyed to hold and love me.
Overjoyed.
But...
Within a matter of days, she would seek that my intimacy be hers alone.
Within a matter of months, she would seek that my intimacy be hers alone forever.
When entering romance, i place no limits on its intensity or duration.
No limits.
No limits.
NO LIMITS.
How can that not be enough?
How in god's name can that not be enough?
In god's name...
A phrase i have never before written. Nor likely ever will again. But in moments of agony, just as ecstasy, our vocabulary reverts to phrases we learned before we knew what learning was.
We live in an era of stunning barbarism...in poignance, not one in a thousand has the eyes to see.
Someone reads these words a thousand years from now, and understands. And is shocked that i, that anyone, that everyone, didn't just seize up in death, overwhelmed by the horrific isolation and incomprehensible brutality that surrounds us every moment of our lives.
But we struggle on, denying the bleeding...
I send my love to you, future reader.
I know that you would send me a thousand times more.
In a moment less alive, that would comfort me.

Lexx, season 1

2012-01-06T14:37:00.000-08:00

-I Worship His Shadow ****
This series began as four made-for-TV movies, later to be called season 1. Despite using the most groan-inducing word in the sci fi universe ("prophecy") in the first two minutes, it bursts out of the gate with a fresh, original feel. In a dystopian universe wherein the dehumanizing practices might make you feel genuine revulsion, three fugitives find themselves in control of the greatest spaceship ever created. Spineless, mealy fourth-level guard Stanley Tweedle (Brian Downey) is sentenced to death for missing a dentist appointment (or some such). Kai (Michael McManus), a warrior killed 2000 years before, then reanimated as an assassin corpose by the Shadow Overlord, regains his memory and free will in an accident. Obese housewife Zev Bellringer is sentenced to be transformed into an ultimate love slave, for failing to perform her marital duties...but the process is interrupted, leaving her with her own personality in the body of an uberspacebabe (with a little killer lizard DNA). Are we a little uncomfortable with the fact that we want to madly hump her now, even though she's the same unappealing person inside? Yup. The fugitives escape together. Barry Bostwick gives a roaring performance as an ill-fated freedom fighter. Creator Paul Donovan oversees a howling ride.
-Super Nova **
Director Ron Oliver can't maintain Paul's pace. The Lexx takes the crew to a far galaxy, where they find Kai's ancestral home. He is the last of his race. Guest star Tim Curry is game, but doesn't quite pop as a holo-guide with ambitions of its own. The Zev (Eva Habermann) shower scene might make your eyes fall out.
-Eating Pattern *
Director Rainer Matsutani can't keep up Oliver's modest pace. The cinematography achingly screams "second-rate TV". Poor Rutger Hauer.
-Giga Shadow **
Guest star Malcolm MacDowell fares a bit better than his two predecessors, as the crew returns home to get protoblood for Kai, who will die (really, this time) without it. McManus is given great lines, and delivers them well, as an unfeeling (but handsome) corpse. Habermann shines, and Downey carries his weight, but the show feels a little empty with so few characters.

(Note: season 2 shifts to a regular series format, and for a moment you're hopeful that the downward spiral might reverse, but no. Indeed, when Eva Habermann is replaced by Xeenia Seeberg, all remaining hope is gone. Xeenia's lips scream collagen, she doesn't have a "perfect" love slave body, and the cast chemistry drops off. The episodes aren't sexy enough to justify the emphasis on sex, and aren't visionary enough to rate as great sci fi.)

prostitute

2012-01-05T07:49:00.000-08:00

I'm going to hire a prostitute.
I've never paid for sex, and given my personality, it's quite likely i never will. This cuts me off from direct experience of one of the most prominent features of our society's sexual landscape.
It messes with my mind, living in a world where 16,000 children will die of starvation today, while some have so much that they can pay strangers to engage in the most intimate of all human acts.
So i'm going to hire a prostitute. To not have sex with.
I understand one cannot assume every prostitute hates her (or his, but mostly her) life. I understand that an experience is what you make of it. I understand the danger in letting judeo-christian mores poison our thoughts...i have a friend who likes sex, and men, and sex with men, so much she says she's imagined being a happy prostitute.
But even so...there is an inherently dehumanizing, spirit-devouring aspect to prostitution in this society. Money poisons the attitude of both parties. The john cannot help feeling that he owns (if only temporarily) another human being...an attitude that should never be tolerated, ever. The prostitute...well, i suppose one of the things i seek to understand is whether any prostitute doesn't ultimately feel at least some small measure of resentment for any man who can buy her because his society allows him to do so.
And let's not fool ourselves...despite the quaint illegality of prostitution in many societies where the church still wields some influence, in capitalism money trumps everything. I would imagine that very, very, very few men who have paid to fuck a woman, have been bothered by the thought that perhaps they didn't deserve her.
And too, let's not fool ourselves into thinking there's such a great difference between a prostitute and Donna Reed. Wifedom over the past ten thousand years has been about a woman being sold, or selling herself...selling her sex, her womb, her labor, even her thoughts...to a man. If you think there's an essential difference between Divine Brown and Anna Nicole Smith, you have the mental capacity of a flea. It's also quite likely that some prostitutes have been able to live lives that were, on the balance, better than the wives their johns went home to (at least until they got old).
However, as Amy Gardner said, no little girl dreams of growing up to be a whore.
So i'm going to hire one to not have sex with.
I understand that street corners are losing their vogue, and that the internet is the new place to rent love. Hi ho, it's off to craigslist i go!
I swear on Percy Mortimer's grave, i did NOT intend that pun.
And just what will she and i do while we're not having sex? Here's the template of a response i'm sending to prostitooty ads that catch my eye:
Hello.
I'm looking for a special situation. I'm a writer, and i want to hire a woman for an ongoing thing, once a week for ten weeks or more. There will be no sex. We will hold each other nakedly for an hour. We'll talk about everything or nothing. We might listen to music, have a pillow fight, give each other backrubs, or just lie together. I'll write about the experience.
I don't drink or smoke. If you do drugs, this won't be for you. I'm a pacifist and non-materialist, trying to find words that will help heal this broken world. We would have to like and trust each other...
warmly,
wrob
I make minor (or major) changes, depending on the ad.
It is my wish to give some woman a break from her life, to treat her with the greatest gentleness and care, and let her walk away with cash in pocket.
I realize this idea is semi-idiotic and fraught with pitfalls, not least of which is the chance that i'll come off as condescending. So why not just befriend a prostitute? Or date one?
Because i need to understand this reality as firsthand as i possibly can. To create the conditions of prostitution (if not the proper execution). Many feminists would say that my relatively benign intent merely amounts to a benigner act of violence against a woman. I can't tell you they'd be unequivocally wrong.
But perhaps the point that the hardcore feminists miss is the difference between prostitution, and prostitution in a capitalist society. I've been thinking about this for many years, and only now think i might have something to add to the human discourse on the subject. The question being, should prostitution be legal? If one believes in freedom, how can any interaction between consenting adults be wrong? Feminists rightly argue that prostitution is about the lack of options and resources that woman have always faced. But i ask you to imagine prostitution in a non-capitalist society, where the prostitute always maintains the economic freedom to exercise total control over what they do, and with whom. Would that be ethically troubling for any earnest feminist or humanist? I submit that it would not.
Getting back to this idiotic idea of mine, more troubling than pissing off some feminists is the realization that buying a woman's time flagrantly risks destroying the chance she might trust or open up to me.
But there's another motivation for my doing it this way.
I need human touch so badly, i'm dying from the lack of it.
I could tell you this is a response to my last girlfriend, who because of clinical depression, was often physically unable to be in my presence for weeks at a time. While there may be a bit of truth in that, the larger truth is found in my lifetime's worth of weeks and months without holding anyone at all.
The thought of just holding someone, for one guaranteed hour each week...that thought is so beautiful to me right now that my chest hurts a bit just thinking about it.
I'll keep you posted.

holiday culture wars

2012-01-03T12:05:00.000-08:00

In the life of every society, the culture wars are always there.
Sometimes these forces engage deep beneath the surface, enacting slow change measured in generations or centuries. Sometimes cultural clashes are out in the open, splashed across newspapers or fashions or town squares. A pink-skinned television starship captain kissing his ebony-skinned communcations officer...two female pop stars locking lips on national TV...the greatest sporting champion of all going to jail rather than become a soldier.
Perhaps the greatest culture war in recorded history is the struggle between secular humanism and religion. Science versus faith. And curiously enough, nowhere has this clash played out more obviously than in...Christmas albums. Just beneath the surface, but there for anyone to see, the greatest culture struggle of our time has unfolded before our ears, as we hung our stockings and decked the halls.
In a larger sense, Christmas itself has been the epicenter of the secular/religious tussle. Clement Moore birthed the modern incarnation of a certain "jolly old elf" in the early 19th century. Within a hundred years, secular Santa had made Jesus a secondary figure on his own pretend birthday. But we still gave lip service to Jesus in our most cherished Christmas songs. It took the recording artists of the 20th century to change that, one new classic at a time. How complete has this de-christing been? Over the first five years of our new century, guess how many religious tunes made ASCAP's 25 most-performed Christmas songs list? Maybe half, you say? Maybe less? Try one (unless of course, "Feliz Navidad" has some godly lyrics that have escaped my ear). The lone holy holdout? "The Little Drummer Boy" (ah, the power of Bowie and der Bingle).
Taking a look at the best-selling holiday albums of all time is, of course, more of a mixed bag. I could roll out a listed breakdown, but that would feel a little too much like "outing" the artists (in either direction), thereby perhaps spoiling some Christmas cheer for that minority who intentionally put religious views aside to simply embrace a day devoted to peace, goodwill, and boozy clinches under mistletoe. It's a fascinating study though, to look at all the holiday albums you've loved, and realize the ideological currents that may have been at work. You may find that musical devotion, like sacred devotion and lust, can be a very illogical thing. For example, three particular albums both revealing or personally resonant:
BECAUSE IT'S CHRISTMAS, Barry Manilow
On this best-selling Christmas album of 1990, Barry tipped his hat to the surprising number of all-time Christmas albums that are purely instrumental (an artistic choice that alienates almost no one). He cleverly recorded beautiful instrumental intros of cherished sacred classics for most of the songs, while avoiding a single religious lyric in the songs themselves. Where i come from, we call that making a point with style.
THE CHRISTMAS ALBUM, Neil Diamond
The 33rd best-selling Christmas album of all time demonstrates the power of a given artist to rise above content that would be offputting coming from almost anyone else. Neil, a Christian Jew at the beginning of a too-cool-for-school late-career renaissance, rolls out a collection full of sacred classics that are so creatively, brilliantly rendered that i'll play them every year until even the Jesus freaks cain't take it no mo'! The doppelganger to this album is...
A LOVELY WAY TO SPEND CHRISTMAS, Kristin Chenoweth
I acquired this all tingly at the prospect of loving it forever. With her incandescent talent and pixie perkiness, Kristin rises above her religious views to take her place on the "Ten Most Fuckable Women in the World" list. There are just some women that, no matter what rambles out of their mouths, men simply need to put babies in. Despite some charming efforts however, the album falls flat as she rides that Jesus train.
Ah well. Whatever music brings joy to your ears, i wish you all a very merry, cherry cherry, holly holy, rock n' rolly Maxmas, all through the year.

virgin virgin virgin...

2011-12-22T14:11:00.001-08:00

Virgin virgin virgin virgin virgin.
Why do we make such a fuss over over virginity? Sexual intercourse is simply the usage of an orifice or appendage for the purpose nature intended. Why would we inflate the first time into a consuming, life-changing reality? It makes no logical sense, and the very nature of the definition of "virgin" is random.
A woman can have "BFF" inscribed on her dildo, but still be a virgin?
A woman can use her lover's tongue as toilet paper, and still be a virgin?
A woman can have her girlfriend's fist in her vagina, and still walk (or hobble) away a virgin?
A man can have oral, anal, toe, and even elbow sex, yet still be a virgin? A man can stick his appendage inside a sheep's vagina, yet still be a card-carrying virgin??
No no no no NO! I do not abide random illogic posing as nature.
Do we make any sort of similar fuss over the first time we use our other orifices for their intended purposes? No. We don't obsess over the first time we eat...we just eat, without hoping for a pat on the back when it's done.
Being burped doesn't count.
We don't have tribal rituals for the first time we hear. We don't expect to be cuddled afterward (although personally i expect cuddling after every successful bodily function...but that's just me).
And we most certainly do NOT build up huge psychological weight over the first time we poop.
HENNY: Is it true, Benny...you've never pooped?
BENNY: I'm saving myself.
If you're fixated on genitals, why shouldn't our first pee be heralded as the end of virginity? Or comedic exaggerations aside, wouldn't it make just as much sense to declare that a "virgin" is a woman who's never had a baby? One who's never "used her orifice as nature intended"? Or a man who's never impregnated a woman? In a society like that, people might start to discriminate against the childless, wondering what was wrong with them if they avoided parenthood for too long. There would be an obvious quality to that system, that would free us of a lot of the virginity-speculation rampant in our own society. Not entirely, of course...
CAROL: That Meryl, 29 and still a virgin. Look how she walks around, like her shit don't stink.
CHERYL: I'll bet she goes the other way.
DARRYL: You're both wrong...i heard from a very good source that she gave one up for adoption in her teens.
The phenomenon of "saving oneself" would take on a whole new meaning, and our repressive, unhealthy attitudes about sex might dissolve entirely. A woman who decided she wanted to have children could invite her intended to watch her celebratory final gang bang with the boys' water polo team. He could cuddle with her afterward...or maybe give her the final poke (there is evidence that the last man in a gang bang has the best chance of impregnation...just one of a million things science hasn't figured out yet)
Anyway, i'm just saying our obsession with "virginity", and the random way in which we define the word, is not natural at all, and says a lot about who we are as a people. Just as a society which equated virginity-loss with childbirth, would be advertising a million unspoken things about their own values.
BENNY: I just want it to be really special. I want it to be magic.
HENNY: Benny, you're 27. It's time. We are gonna poop your cherry.
Are you a virgin?
Do you want to be?
Easier done than you think.

black dream

2011-12-22T06:44:00.001-08:00

My brother Jeff and i were back in the suburban home of our youth. It was a grey, cold day. I looked into the back yard, and there was a man in a black trenchcoat peering through the back wooden fence. It had been wedged open a foot or so. He was holding what might have been a sniper rifle. I told Jeff to go upstairs. I went into the yard to confront the man. He was black and incredibly tall, with icy demeanor. After i spoke a couple sentences, he calmly fired a couple of shots between my legs. I hastened back into the house. Jeff hadn't gone upstairs yet, and as i was urgently whispering to him to go up and call the police, we noticed that the sliding glass door was broken, and that a black bear was coming into the room. Jeff went up, and i went back onto the porch. I told the man i had no problem with him. I followed him into the house, and asked him whether he needed food for his bear. He looked at me icily, then said that would be fine. He handed me his lit cigarette, which was light blue. I searched for an ashtray, remembering Jeff was a smoker. I found one on top of the phone. I doubted i'd be able to find meat for this bear, but there were several packages of ground beef right on the top refrigerator shelf. I offered it to him, and he said "Heated?" I threw it into the microwave, then hurried the steaming, dripping meat to the bear.

The Larry Sanders Show

2011-12-21T14:54:00.000-08:00

1992-1998
One of the seminal shows in television history, LARRY SANDERS showed the backstage workings of a network late night talk show perpetually destined for second-best. It was the first TV comedy with dialogue both scripted and improvised. In bringing the show to life, star and creator Garry Shandling called on his experience as a recurring guest host for Johnny Carson. Rip Torn (MEN IN BLACK, BEASTMASTER) plays the gruff, capable producer Artie. Jeffrey Tambor (ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, THE ROPERS) is Hank, the no-talent sidekick. Every episode dared you to not realize this show was funny in a way you'd never seen.
ULTIMATE LARRYTHON (season)
-What Have You Done For Me Lately? (1)
How many more brilliant pilots have there ever been? The network forces Larry to do on-air product promos, an idea he loathes so much he sabotages the promo with snark. Hank saves the day. The Garden Weasel! And Robert Hays!
-Party (1)
Larry's wife invites Artie and his wife over to dinner, an idea Larry is none too thrilled with. One by one, the staff wheedles invitations. Artie drinks salty dogs, you pussies!
-Off Camera (2)
An entertainment writer (Joshua Malina - SPORTS NIGHT, THE WEST WING) takes notes backstage for a story. Pettiness and mayhem abound. Guests Gene Siskel, John Ritter, and Warren Zevon are beautiful.
-Hank's Wedding (2)
Hank proposes on-air to a young woman he's known for a couple weeks. They marry on-air. Everyone except Artie thinks it's a horrible idea. Alex Trebek officiates. The strip club bachelor party with Ed McMahon is too classic.
-Roseanne's Return (4)
Larry's ex Roseanne is scheduled to appear, sending him into a neurotic tizzy. The cast is watching the O.J. trial. Hank, who lives on O.J.'s street, defends his neighbor. An enraged Phil eggs Hank's Bentley, leaving yolk on his shoes and eggs in his office. As Hank is furious over Phil's obvious guilt, a point is made with hilarity and razor-sharp incisiveness. Larry's contentious banter with Roseanne is high-wire hysterical.
-Putting the 'Gay' Back in Litigation (6)
The odds against lightning striking on all fronts when a show divides into three plotlines are staggering. Brian, fed up with Phil's gay jokes, sues the show for harassment. Scott Thompson's greatest moment. Both Wallace Langham's jokes and the pressures he's under are perfectly rendered...with an audacious climax between the two that would have missed the mark 99 tries out of a hundred. Meanwhile, Larry worries that his new girlfriend Ileana Douglas isn't a good enough guest to date. He bumbles around, then has a humorless moment that makes you realize for the first time in six seasons that he understands how fucked up he is. Over on track C, Hank mines comic gold as he films celebrity friends doing farewell tributes to Larry. Bruno Kirby and Drew Barrymore are priceless.
-Flip (6)
The hour-long series finale. Even though a few of the segments are just a hair off razor sharp, it doesn't stop the whole from being perfect. The perfect ending to this show that gave us the flip side of TV...the dysfunctional mess that stars are offstage, and the ugly, embarrassing creative process that goes into probably every real show we've ever loved. It's a sign of how close to the bone this show went, in the unspooling of stars who showed up at the end. Warren Beatty is chased by Larry in a parking lot. Jim Carrey's on-air tribute is an eye-popping wonderment. David Duchovny's invoking of Sharon Stone's most iconic scene is comic perfection. Plus Jerry Seinfeld, Sean Penn, Carol Burnett, Tim Allen, Tom Petty, Ellen Degeneres, Greg Kinnear, and...someone i'm forgetting...oh yes, Bruno Kirby! And again how bizarre, in that it would all mirror reality so closely, the willingness of stars to appear on a highly-rated, beloved series finale. You can't help wondering where the fantasy stops, and where the reality begins. The show within the show was never more than semi-beloved, so it almost strains credibilty to have this many celebrities. But it doesn't quite cross that implausible line. Jeremy Piven and Linda Doucett return after long absences. And at the core, the big three knock out some of their most poignant scenes ever. Artie cries, alone in the costume room. Hank's kiss-off scene is towering (as is his tail-between-legs apology). Do NOT miss the deleted scenes. The last moment, as Larry looks back...you might just shed a tear yourself.

press conference

2011-12-19T15:32:00.000-08:00

(A press conference held by rock star Shane McTaggish. He's in his sixties, grizzled and craggy-looking.)

SHANE: Cheers, and thanks for coming. I've called this conference to announce to the world, that I have fallen in love with the most amazing woman in the world. I've asked this woman for her hand, and all the other bits too, in marriage. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met...did I say that? I said that. I never imagined that I could love another human being the way I love her. I know, I know, I've done this dance a few times before...even said one or two of the same words...but this woman, she makes every woman I've ever known seem like a silly child. It's the first time in my life I've ever truly felt like myself around someone. She's the only woman who's ever not cared one tiny bit about me bein' a star...it's like she doesn't even relate to me as "Shane McTaggish", whoever the hell that bloke is. I want to have a family with this woman, like, tomorrow. I want to grow old with her. I want to have a garden with her. I know, I know...I can see you have lots of questions. But why don't we bring her out, then you can ask us both. Would you like that? (a wave of assent from the crowd) I thought as much. Come on out, Sweetybunny! Yeah, over here, that's right. (Mary joins Shane. She is in her nineties.) She's a little shy, so we'll see if we can get her to talk. (he squeezes and tickles her, and she slaps his hand) Ladies and lads, I'd like you to meet my fiance...Mary MacPherson. (there have been occasional flashbulbs, but now there is a flurry) Say hello, Mary. (she dignifiedly nods) A real chatterbox, this one. We'll take questions. (There is a silence. Shane looks around.) Yes, you?
REPORTER #1: Um...is this your first marriage, Mary? (she shakes her head)
SHANE: She's been married once before...but not one a'them Hollywood marriages. How many years was it, Sweetybunny?
MARY: Forty-seven.
SHANE: He died young though...taken before his time. (she nods) But Mary obviously knows how to make love work. She's the strongest person I've ever met. You?
REPORTER #2: Uh...how did you and Mary meet?
SHANE: Tell 'em, Hun. (she shakes her head) My little shy Bunny...we met in a massage parlor. No really! In the lobby. She asked me to recommend a masseuse, and i had just been worked over by this big, blonde amazon, who left me black and blue, I swear. I told Mary I refused to let her go through the same torture, so I invited her to my place, where my regular masseuse would take care of her. She came, and enjoyed it immensely. I invited her for another session, but the second time i gave my masseuse the day off. When Mary got there, I suggested we massage each other. And we did.
REPORTER #2: And one thing led to...
SHANE: That's exactly right, mate. Innit, Sweetybunny? (she rolls her eyes) Yes?
REPORTER #3: Shane, did you say that you and Miss MacPherson were planning...a family?
SHANE: Absolutely, yes. We're workin' on that. She says we might adopt. Whatever, any way...I just can't wait.
REPORTER #3: But you're working on it the...old-fashioned way?
SHANE: Ahhh, you cheeky boy. Shame on you. Cover your ears, Sweetbunny. (he tries to cover her ears, and gets his hand slapped away) It's always about sex with you jounalistes, innit? Gotta sell those papers. Well I for one refuse to pander to such a... (he starts laughing) ...I'm sorry, I can't keep a straight face. Yeah. You're looking at a man who is having the best sex he's ever had. And he's had a lot of sex. Mary don't mind me saying this, but she's actually a bit older than me. And you know, you always hear about "older women, older women"...I never imagined it was actually true. Bloody fantastic. But all you blokes, you won't listen...I was like you once. Yes?
REPORTER #4: Shane, isn't there any concern about...well, being too old to start a family?
SHANE: That's an honest question...no no no, don't give 'er a dirty look. I've thought about that, i 'ave...and the truth is, yeah, I've lived a hard life. No mistake about it. My doctors can't guarantee I'll live another twenty years, or...ten...or, whatever. But that's life, innit? And I know that, however long I live, these children will be loved. What else can you do?
REPORTER #4: No Shane, I wasn't uh, talking about...
SHANE: About what?
REPORTER #4: I...I have no question.
SHANE: Alright then. Anyone else? No? No? That's good, cos' Mary and I have a plane waiting. She claims she's not a member of the mile-high club. I don't believe her for a second. Yeah, you?
REPORTER #1: Shane, Mary...is there a wedding date set? (Mary nods)
SHANE: Well, yeah. Since you ask...and since I can't ask you all along...we'll be in Mexico in the morning, and when we get back home, we'll have another conference in which you'll meet Mrs. Mary McTaggish. (they kiss) Cheers, all. See you in a few weeks. (they stand, amid murmurs)
REPORTER #3: Shane, have the other members of the band met her?? Shane! (the couple exit the hubbub)

Starhunter

2011-12-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

2000-2001
I actually got through the entire series. I'd like to tell you that i did so out of a faint feeling of guilt for having dismissed so many sci fi series after less than a full season. Yeah, that's the reason i gutted it out.
Or perhaps it had to do with the fact that in the pilot, my eyes fell out when i saw some of the most beautiful boobies we'll ever see, entirely unaugmented by surgery (or the costume department). Hungrily, i stayed with this turkey through the rest of the 22 episodes, hoping that similar helpings of heaven would be regular stops along the way. If you are moved by similar delight...
Then stop the moment actress Helen Latham, um, shuffles off this mortal flesh in a pyrotechnic blaze. Turn off the disc, and run to the next contestant in the eternal quest for non-crappy sci fi.
And pardon me for being so moved by Miss Latham, but is it so much to ask that sci fi produce a series that acknowledges the importance of sex to human beings, and not in such a way that makes you think your shrewish Aunt Gladys isn't peering over the producers' shoulders, ready to swat them with a ruler should they fail to live up to the Hayes censorship code of 19-FREAKING-30!?
I'm just saying.
As for STARHUNTER, i'd like to tell you that it's second-rate. That, however, would be a lie. Workable performances, decent visuals, a concept with potential (hundreds of years in the future, warp travel is just a dream, Earth is a wasteland, and human spaceships clutter our solar system)...but you had the feeling that there weren't enough good writers, and too many memos from producers who didn't know spit about storytelling. It's nice to see star Michael Pare' again, but the only people i'd recommend this one to are those who call EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS the bestest flick ever.

the knicker wars

2011-12-14T09:11:00.002-08:00

Knickers.
Some words are just funny.
"Cor, i nearly peed my knickers!"
"Alright ladies, knickers off!"
The word "knickers" takes on an added level of embarrassed humor in America, as we're not 100% sure what they are, but know that it's something to do with panties and privates, so we go through our whole lives pretending we actually know, when we don't. Our confusion is compounded by the fact that golfer's short pants seem to be referred to as knickers, too. As indeed they are.
But in Great Britain, my friends, knickers are no more or less than plain old panties. Brits say "panties" too, avoiding our confusion.
The classic knicker definition is "long panties", from the 19th century (the crack of dawn for women's undergarments in the western world). Knickers came down to just below the knee. As women wore dresses, the thought of "briefer" undergarments didn't occur to anyone. For their first 100 years, knickers were two separate legs connected at the waist. In a word - crotchless. Yes. Queen Victoria wore crotchless panties.
And then at the end of the 19th century, came the darkest period in underwear's brief history. A time so disturbing, that history books don't speak of it.
THE KNICKER WARS.
Great cultural forces came clashing together, and underwear ultimately did the same.
The crotchless aspect of panties in the 19th century had made for a randy time. If victorians seem dour, it's only because they all put on their serious faces for paintings...photography wasn't widespread enough for that which we all take for granted - the candid shot. Candid shots of victorians would have shown some happy, sexy people.
Do you know how fast you can get to a woman's tingly bits, when she's wearing a dress and crotchless panties?
You probably don't. But every victorian man and woman did.
And life went happily along, until the forces of social prudery, spearheaded by the church, got together. They decided that all this easy access was an affront to decency. Crotched panties were born, and across a nation, people quickly took sides.
The church's side became known forever as the knicker-haters.
On the other side...the knicker-lovers.
Any pretense of decency and tolerance quickly faded. Shops and community centers began displaying signs, "KNICKERS NOT ALLOWED". Gangs of knicker-haters roamed the streets, holding aloft crotched panties. When they came across a woman who wouldn't raise her dress, they forced their inspections upon her. Were she to be found wearing classic knickers, they would be torn from her and destroyed, along with her dress. They would then forcibly place crotched panties on her, tie her hands behind her back, and set her free.
In response, the knicker-lovers flouted their freedom more than ever. Kilts became the fashion of the day, making random sexual trysts even more unencumbered. Whereas before people had been content to confine their carnal consummations to alleyways and linen closets, it became a sign of social protest for couples to copulate in the open streets. Some knicker-lovers took to wearing a pair of crotched panties on one of their arms, signifying to any knicker-loving stranger that they were game for a shag anytime, anyplace.
In March of 1899, the knicker-haters held their largest public protest in front of Westminster Palace. Twenty thousand voices came together, shouting "WE HATE KNICKERS...WE HATE KNICKERS...WE HATE KNICKERS...WE HATE KNICKERS".
The following Wednesday, seven thousand knicker-lovers disguised as knicker-haters gathered before Westminster, threw off their disguises, and had an orgy.
In 1900, the eighty year-old Queen Victoria made her last public appearance at Buckingham Palace. Rheumatism had left her barely able to stand. She knew only that a strong message from England's monarch could quell the violence tearing apart the land. Pushing her nurses aside, she slowly lifted her dress.
She was wearing crotched panties.
And the days of knicker-lovers were done.

cyber-crickets

2011-12-14T09:11:00.001-08:00

Yes yes, thank you all for your responses to my "cyber-dating 101" article. It's humbling to be the object of such unmitigated awe.
However, i neglected to mention...
I can't write a romance ad to save my life.
I know, i know, it's comprehensible. But true, as evidenced by the fact that the majority of the ads below received no, repeat NO, bona fide responses. Those that did, got maybe one.
I know, i know, who's greedy enough to want more than one?
Here they are, a year's worth of neglected messages in bottles...
IN YOUR SKIN
I'm not crazy about the phrase "in your skin", as it implies that skin is something you possess, as opposed to something you are. But the phrase is entirely germane to this ad's line of thought, so...
Skin. The largest organ. Our contact point with the human race.
Intuitively or scientifically, you are aware of the profound human need for touch. Aware of how touch-deprived this society is. You run the other way. Hugs, massage, hugs, sex, hugs, cuddling...this is perhaps the only area of life in which you've never found a "too much" point.
Unless you're a performing artist, you can't imagine denying your skin's desire to breathe by painting it with makeup.
Above all...you are comfortable in your skin.
You know yourself.
You like yourself.
You don't live for the approval of others. You can't relate to the fearful state of mind required to not post a picture. You've broken free (as much as possible) of judeo-christian self-loathing. You love being naked, and don't care who knows it. Your need for emotional nakedness parallels that.You don't care about the color of your pigmentation, or mine.
THE THREE "E"s!
EMOTIONAL SUPPORT - Maybe i'll be the one who never lets you get away with shit, maybe i'll be so honest that it will take getting used to, but you'll never doubt my desire to love, understand, and be there.
EQUALITY - The real deal. It's 2011, you're ready.
ENDORPHINS - How many massages a week is enough? How many hours of lovemaking?
Easygoing would be great too, but then i'd lose my long E/three rhyme scheme. Aside from all that, i'm just a non-materialist, non-drinking, nature/music/movie-loving silly person.
SILLY WILDFLOWER?
I'm a free spirit living with one foot off the grid, for whom nothing is more sacred than friendship and honesty. I've had humbling, astounding experiences as a lover, yet most of my life i've been unheld, unwilling to settle. Most people are too damaged and uncomfortable in their skin to love another...slaves to the past, or chained by fears for the future. I want someone to hold, discover, rub, and bedevil. Pillow fights, practical jokes. I don't drink, make the scene, or like money. I love nature and music and physical activity, and movies and sci fi. My greatest passion is writing.
I put no limits on the intensity or duration of any romance, but i'm also up on the science of human sexuality, so check any Disney nonsense at the gate. It's also hard to imagine that you wear makeup. Who's ready to be loved and adored, and show the human race where it's going?
IDIOTS 'R' US
I care about your integrity, authenticity, playfulness, and sobriety. Hopefully without violating the spirit of quality number two, describe whom your spirit is a combination of. Me: Henry David Thoreau, Simone de Beauvoir, Gene Roddenberry, and George Carlin. If you're tempted to mention your age, skin color, or bank account, i think they're having a singles night at Idiots 'R Us this week.
SWEET PERSONALITEA
1) A love of reading, and the sharing of ideas.
2) A love of nature and physical activity.
3) A love of dancing (bonfire preferable to club).
4) A love, love, love of music.
5) A self-identity not tied to age or skin color.
6) A set of values that doesn't include materialism.
7) A set of passions that doesn't include drugs.
8) A steamer trunk that doesn't include makeup or high heels.
9) Scientifically or experientially suspicious of monogamy.
10) Some affinity for geekdom.
11) A belief system that doesn't include an invisible rabbit who grants you eternal life.
DIRECTIONS: In the subject line of your response, put the number of these qualities you embody. Nobody's expecting an 11 (if you're silly and romantic, take a bonus point).
P.S. The women of Colorado just called, saying that NY women are materialistic fashionistas who will never answer this. Are you going to take that?
P.P.S. Hurry, this might get flagged! (by the women of Colorado, trying to keep me for themselves)

Mark, Luke, John

2011-12-14T07:20:00.000-08:00

Mark 14:51-52
What a fascinating 29-word mention; who WAS this young man?
Luke 14:26
It stretches the boundaries of reason and logic to suggest that hatred of self and others is necessary for religious purity. The only way to justify this would be to believe that all humans possess innate evil. There are, indeed, many who hold such a view. But does it seem credible that the Lord could create (in It's own image?) innately evil beings? Wouldn't the Lord have to be evil to do so?
John 2:6-11
If the Christ were to come today, might It perform miracles of creating marijuana, or peyote, or heroin, or some other drug? If the Christ is willing to create alcohol, let's not quibble over the potency of any other mind-altering drug of your choice. While he never advocated drugs as a path to Heaven, he obviously endorsed their use. Many religions have more overtly paired drugs with spiritual experience. I have no point, merely a curious observation…

Buried Child

2011-12-13T07:15:00.000-08:00

THEATER 57
-spring 2001
I returned to the Orpheus. Why? A couple reasons. I believed in what we'd been trying to create, and had strong loyalty to Tony. In his besieged life, i wanted to energize his dream a bit longer. At the same time, i knew that an era had passed, and that my time at the Orpheus was ending. I knew i wouldn't be able to create the intense theater i was interested in, not there. But i wanted others to keep the Orpheus Theater going. These were the thoughts in my head as i decided to have Donna McDonald direct a show. She had co-run a theater on Lasqueti Island in Canada for a number of years. I thought i might step all the way back, and be just the producer. The show she chose was a Sam Shepard piece about a dysfunctional family (or am i being redundant?). Estrangement, incest, a baby buried in the backyard, fresh produce...this play had it all. For the role of Dodge, the patriarch, i got Joe Porter, a delightful life-long theater vet and semi-retired doctor. Joe had been in touch with me for a few months, and here was finally a great part for him. Donna found beach resident Carrie Hill to play Halie, the matriarch. Auditioner Tony Turiano was cast as the lost eldest son, Tilden. I got Michael Weeg for the part of Bradley, the crippled, angry son. Michael was the husband of Jennifer from sex, lies, and videotape. For Father Dewis, i called on my ODD COUPLE buddy, John Thomas. Amanda returned to play Shelly, girlfriend of the grandson, Vince. We had trouble casting Vince. Donna wanted me, and i said i'd do it if we didn't find someone else. For four or five days we searched, with Donna telling me to just do the part. But a part of me wanted to see how she operated before acting under her. Also, i didn't fancy playing Amanda's boyfriend, as my feelings for her had been pretty intense far too recently. Thankfully, Jim Hawley from SEXUAL PERVERSITY surfaced. I threw myself into producing, and only attended one or two rehearsals the first few weeks. It was an enjoyable break, wearing just the one hat. I attended most rehearsals the last two weeks, even running some that Donna couldn't make. I gave a fair bit of direction to a couple actors who wanted more than Donna was giving them. Tony Turiano called me the best producer he'd ever had. The cast chemistry was good, if not overly close. Tony was a recovering alcoholic, and came on a little strong for some. Amanda in particular felt that he was trying to get too close, a situation i did my best to defuse. Carrie was new to acting, but doing her best. She was good company. Joe and John were consummate pros, and Jim his usual puckish self. Michael and Amanda were very dedicated. Donna and i ran the show together, her out front, me backstage. Tony M. relayed to me how angry his family still was with me, and said that they wanted me to run the show from outside the restaurant, perhaps using a...get this...walkie-talkie. There was prop placement and cleanup to do backstage, plus set and actor dressing. It all came together well, and we played to good crowds. We finally were working on an actual stage, assembled by volunteer community member Peter. This meant several more heavy pieces to be lugged behind the restaurant after each show, which usually fell to Dwayne Ernst and myself. Dwayne was Donna's boyfriend, and for several shows that year, he did work that was well beyond the call of duty. He'd lived a hard life, and i was touched by how much he opened up to me. The prop i was most proud of was the baby skeleton. I'd tried to find one at schools and hospitals, but was told that there had been a ban on baby-skeleton construction. I found a doll, shaved her hair, cut eye, ear, nose, and jaw sections out, and painted it white. In the final scene, Tony carries the baby in, wrapped in cloth, and the effect was very disturbing to some. The most-imitated lines were Joe's, especially "Boo-koos!", "My rough rasp, my lathe…", and "Two bucks is two bucks. Don't sneer." Jim continued to ad-lib a bit in finding his particular brand of comedy (literally speaking out his ass at one point), but he did it well, so was given rein. He played a funny drunk, turning "Beasts from the deep!" into "Beans from the dip!" Michael's "Gimme back my leg!" was mimiced as well...his frustrated rage was both comic and frightening (and yes, we had an actual prosthetic leg, thanks to Dr. Joe). At one point, Amanda hurls a mug offstage, shattering it. I'm backstage to clean up, so the actors don't step on the pieces. I began to wonder what might happen if the cup didn't break, and i finally decided to wait closer to the crash point. The first night i did this (after weeks of successful crashes), the cup failed to break. I smashed it, but maybe not quickly enough, because Amanda felt there was a lag. I never waited that closely again, and it was never a problem again (i always wondered whether my mental energy had somehow created the failed crash). The most memorable moment came on closing night. Throughout the run, Jim had been leaning on a TV stand in one scene, and on the final night it collapsed. Joe and Jim proceeded to provide dead-on ad-libs. It was an incredibly dirty production, and not figuratively. Mud and shucked corn everywhere. The mayor came to see an Orpheus show for the first time, and had a great time, but i was so busy cleaning up that i barely met him, and got no credit for being the guy that started and ran this whole endeavor. Oh well. Donna favored a more choreographed curtain call than i, but i allowed myself to be called out on the final night. I enjoyed being just the producer more than i expected. In a way, it was like my first non-acting experience in college, and the unexpected pride i'd felt in acquiring that elusive diaphragm prop. Giving some control of expenses to Donna, the show became the most expensive we ever did, at $1200. I accepted a $300 investment from her, which i paid back by week two. It was a group and show to be proud of.

Galactica '03

2011-12-12T12:59:00.000-08:00

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA
2003-2009
Creator Ronald Moore had a long history as a writer/producer for the TREK franchise, making his re-boot of the BSG franchise a bit like the burst of brilliance that was George Harrison's ALL THINGS MUST PASS. Not everything was as ground-breaking as it felt...the hand-held camera shots harken back to the "roll call" segment of HILL STREET BLUES. But the emotional/physical grittiness, moral ambiguity, and realistic space visuals were mostly new ground. All that, plus Edward James Olmos? Bloody brilliant. Both the classic and the reimagining had mystical mumbo jumbo. Why is it so much harder to stomach in the new incarnation? Because the classic was never so insistent on being taken seriously. The decline in excellence over the final seasons...was Moore trying to make the point that life itself hardly ever has a coherent narrative structure, and that real people act inconsistently? As for specifics, the teaser sequence was a time-wasting conceit that showed us things we didn't need to see. The dvds have some lovely deleted scenes, but the Moore commentaries are a bit boring (producer/writer/tech commentaries tend to be dry, and the fact that he's usually alone doesn't help). If i'm focusing on the negative, it's only a reflection of love...but ultimately, mysticism and writing flaws keep BSG from the greatness that was in its grasp. Debates about where it might have belonged in the pantheon of best shows ever are reduced to debating which is better, the new or the classic. Still in all, when it was great, it was like no sci fi ever.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE: 2.7
BY SEASON:
1) 3.0
2) 2.9
3) 2.4
4) 2.7
FOUR-STAR EPISODES (season)
-mini-series
-33 (1)
-You Can't Go Home Again (1)
-Scattered (2)
-Valley of Darkness (2)
-Pegasus (2)
-RAZOR
-Unfinished Business (3)
-Dirty Hands (3)
-The Ties that Bind (4)
-THE PLAN

Galactica, season 4

2011-12-12T10:59:00.000-08:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 2
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.7
-He That Believeth in Me ***
Baltar's cult of nubile supplicants is a nice touch. The Starbuck resurrection teeters on the edge of falling flat, as does Lee's resignation as a pilot. She returns in a factory-showroom viper, looking pristine herself...am i the only one who thinks to check for her old surgery scars? Gripping action sequences. They dropped the ball in editing, taking out an Athena/Kara and a Kara/Anders scene that would have restored some coherence.
-Six of One ***
Why is a naked Boomer so much...fun? Tory cries when she has sex. Faked or not, it's the first time i've been glad to have her around. Laura's attempt to kill the Starbuck-ghost...why is no one else acting so sanely? Lee's military send-off feels overdone, and his farewell to Dee underdone. Boomer's breaking the cylon council deadlock feels contrived; it might have been more realistic to go against the 8s in the other direction. The beginnings of a cylon civil war are fantastic.
-The Ties That Bind ****
Galactica is back! Galactica is BACK!!! Or that's what i was saying to myself, as Cally walks the baby into the airlock. For most of season three, the show felt lost, but suddenly...i was shouting "No! No! NO! Yes! NO!!!". Cally had just found out that the father of her child is a cylon. Does she get sentimental and uncertain? Yup...then she clubs him insensate with a WRENCH! Thank you, Cal. There are more off moments than one might expect from a four-star episode, but Boomer snogging Dean Stockwell plus base star fleets tearing into one another, put this one over the top. Starbuck-ghost's Demetrius mission is tedious, but it's been a long time since you had me on the edge of my seat, BSG. Thank you. And can someone please order a cylon test on Laura and Cally, because their teeth look INHUMANLY WHITE this season?
-Escape Velocity ***
In a season in which the Chief finds out he's not human, he gives the most rawly human speech of anyone, on how life is about not ending up with the people we most want to be with. Olmos and Mary McDonnell could make an ingredient list great goddamned drama.
-The Road Less Traveled **
The Demetrius mission still holds no water, and the mystical babble back at the fleet threatens to swallow the show (again). There's a deleted Helo/Athena scene that ought not have been.
-Faith **
A gripping, albeit convoluted mutiny on the Demitrius! Nana Visitor! From DS9! A fine appearance (the only one ever by a TREK regular) swallowed up by a plot that can't quite hit the right notes. They find the remains of the cylon renegade fleet, with the 6s, Sharons, and Leobens who want to form an alliance with the humans. Anders has an unprecedented great moment, when he tries to slide his hand into the cylon water data stream, his true nature unknown to all.
-Guess What's Coming to Dinner **
Gaeta loses a leg, Apollo's on the Quorum...zzzzzzzzzzz. Perhaps the most innofensive two-star effort of the series, but are we to applaud a lack of anything patently wrong? The writers, time and again, put the characters in situations where their responses don't ring true. A nice 1.29-second appearance by Dee. Oh yeah, Athena kills 6, but i'm giving up the ghost, because i'm not entirely sure which 6 it is. If Athena can kill one character per episode, by the finale we'll be left with a buddy comedy starring her and her trusty centurion, entitled "Naked Boomer and Sparky Ride a Tandem Bike"...which, frankly, would be fine.
-Sine Qua Non **
Adama abandons his post to wait for Laura, and Lee agonizes over whom to pick as the replacement President. Let's bring lawyer Lampkin back. Why? No reason. What's your poison, a plotline that's contrived or foregone? When Romo threatens to kill Lee, we get both. Ah well, at least Caprica 6, in the brig, is pregnant. Um, hunh?
-The Hub **
Aaaaaah! Elosha's back! Nooooooooooooo! Faffing on a ferry of folderol. Adama and Laura finally declare their love...zzzzzzzz. Baltar is shot...will Laura save/kill him? Can she kill us instead? This one is so vapid, it's only by a miracle of high-octane action (in the form of a battle in which the cylon resurrection "hub" is destroyed) that it's saved from one-star land.
-Revelations **
Gonna be a standoff! They find Earth! Four of the five final cylons are outed (Tigh, Tory, Anders, and the Chief), and the renegade cylons threaten a nuke strike unless they are handed over. Adama is incapacitated with grief (?). Lee plays hardball as President. But everybody makes nice, and they all go to Earth. The fleet-wide scenes of joy and relief are one whopper of a masturbatory montage. Why is this turd a floater, not a sinker? The revelation that Earth is a nuclear wasteland. Damn right, Ronald Moore.
-Sometimes a Great Notion ***
Starbuck-ghost finds Starbuck's remains in a cockpit on Earth...zzzzzz. The two-thousand year old remains of the earthlings turn out to be...cylon! Never mind that they weren't invented before the current century. It's time to cowboy up, so...Adama gets weepy-wooey and suicidal. Roslin burns the scriptures ('bout fucking time!). What elevates this one is a huge helping of Dee-light. She and Apollo have a date. They kiss. She returns to her quarters, still glowing as she kills herself. *&^%ing *&^%ity *&^%ers! There had better be some high-level justification coming, or someone's getting a *&^%ing letter. The fifth cylon is the long-dead Ellen.
-A Disquiet Follows My Soul ***
An appropriate title for season four. Roslin can't face her job, nor her cancer treatments. The fleet is offered advanced FTL technology from the renegade cylons, in exchange for citizenship. The Chief finds out that Cally's baby wasn't his. An anti-cylon movement is founded by Zarek and Gaeta. An otherwise average episode is elevated by not even one hint of mumbo jumbo.
-The Oath ***
Early-season worthy. With Roslin in seclusion and Adama telling the Quorum to stick their reservations about a cylon alliance up their collective ass, full-scale mutiny erupts, spearheaded by Zarek and Gaeta. As much as i love our heroes, i might find myself on the anti-cylon side. Ex-Pegasus Chief Laird is murdered, and the body count is on. Gaeta takes over the CIC. Apollo and Starbuck-ghost fight side by side. Adama and Tigh are taken, then escape, then get grenaded. Nasty.
-Blood on the Scales ***
Adama is alive, and put through a kangaroo treason trial. Zarek massacres the Quorum. The mutiny fractures. Zarek and Gaeta are killed by firing squad.
-No Exit **
A stirring recap of the entire series mythology gets this one going, and Anders' brain death ends it (woo!). There's mumbo jumbo, and a curious drama between Cavil, Boomer, and Ellen. Adama reinstates the Chief, who tells him that cylon organic metal is the only thing that can save Galactica's bulwarks. Adama says never. Then yes.
-Deadlock **
Sigh. Put the Galactica-is-back vuvuzelas away. Boomer brings Ellen back to the fleet, who gets into pissyfights with the other cylons. Caprica 6 miscarries.
-Someone to Watch Over Me ***
This episode makes me almost care about Starbuck-ghost. More compelling is the reuniting of Boomer and the Chief. She had never stopped living in the image of their dream home, and he'd never let go of the greatest love of his life. A wonderful episode falls apart when he frees her, but passes on a chance to fly away with her. In order to escape, she pretends to be Athena. Helo interrupts her while she's dressing, offering a quickie. Not wanting to alarm him, she accepts. Athena, bound and gagged in a closet, views the fucking. It's upsetting, it's sexy, it's what BSG should be. Do NOT miss the deleted post-coital scene.
-Islanded in a Stream of Stars **
Baltar reveals that the original Starbuck is dead. Cavil's cylons swipe Hera. Adama gives the order to abandon the beyond-repair Galactica. It's not soporiphic, but praise doesn't get much feebler than that.
-Daybreak ***
A weary franchise gamely brings it home. Considering the mumbo jumbo, contrivance, and schizophrenia of the last two seasons, that's no tiny feat. Pre-holocaust flashbacks meld with Galactica's final mission, a rescue of Hera. You're never quite on the edge of your seat, but the visuals are great, they don't give in entirely to sentimentality, and it almost works. At the end, they destroy their fleet, to disperse onto a planet with pre-industrial humans (a pristine Earth of 2000 years ago, never mind that they'd already visited Earth as a nuclear wasteland). There's a great deleted Kara/Zack scene. They bring back Cally and Zack, but no Dee? Adama (dying Laura) and Lee (disappearing Starbuck-ghost) are both going to be alone, but say sayonara to each other anyway? Really? Okay, i guess.
-THE PLAN ****
It took a post-series movie to crystallize how the mysticism of the final seasons crippled this series. This is NOT my anti-divine bias having a tantrum because someone might have a differing point of view. This movie, about the handful of cylons living within the fleet, ironically brings back what BSG had lost: its humanity. They struggle with love, self-doubt, betrayal and a million other human conditions. When one of the series' main characters is a resurrected ghost, and people are pawns in some divine Hybrid revelation, you've dehumanized the affair. Humanity, in all its glory and stupidity, is restored. Not enough? It's also pulse-pounding, literally. The visuals are the most ambitious and awe-inspiring of any BSG, and the way the story interweaves with events and footage from the entire series, illuminating many of the more inscrutable moments, is meticulously stunning. In one way, it even tops BSG's best: for all the previous grittiness, we never before saw literal human nakedness. It also benefits from a pounding, darker version of the theme music, which had long since become faintly annoying due to its resemblance to a rather unfortunate Sting song. The actions of the cylons, who never could have imagined they'd be trapped within a human fleet, are given depth and resonance. Cavil is megalomaniacally relentless...Boomer's conflict shines...a Simon commits suicide over his love for his human wife...and more. Edward James Olmos directed, giving BSG the finale it richly deserved.

Galactica, season 3

2011-12-12T10:34:00.000-08:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 2
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.4
-Occupation **
On New Caprica, Starbuck and Anders are married, and she's been in detention isolation since the cylons arrived. Leoben tries to get her to love him, and brings her a baby he says is hers. Gaeta is Baltar's aide, funneling information to the resistance led by the Chief, Anders, and Tigh. Cally and the Chief are married with a baby. Ellen has sex with a Cavil to get Tigh out of prison, where he's lost an eye. On Pegasus, Apollo is married and fat. Adama plans a rescue, using Sharon (now married to Helo) to penetrate the cylon defenses. He reinstates her rank, which i have a hard time buying. It's also irksome to have been denied seeing the Chief/Cally romance come to fruition.
-The Resistance **
Webisodes that nicely flesh out the story, centering on Duck and Jammer.
-Precipice **
Suicide bombings prompt the cylons to arrange a mass execution of political detainees, including Zarek and Roslin.
-Exodus ***
Heavy on religious babble. The detainees are saved. Zarek and Roslin have a fun moment of rapprochement. Apollo thinks the rescue mission is doomed, and urges Adama to continue on to Earth. Adama orders Apollo to continue on with the Pegasus, as he mounts the rescue alone. Tigh kills Ellen for collaborating. Galactica attacks four base stars, and is about to be destroyed, when Pegasus jumps in. It takes out two base stars, before being destroyed. Galactica rescues the civilians. So ends Lee's first command. Fantastic visuals.
-Collaborators ***
A secret tribunal (with Tigh and the Chief) executes accused collaborators. Baltar faces a similar trial with the cylons, but is spared. Anders quits the tribunal, replaced by Starbuck. Gaeta is tried, and refuses to beg. Laura is re-elected. Any Gaeta-heavy episode is neato-keen.
-Torn **
Great googily, a naked Boomer doing tai chi. An adrift base star is found, victim of a virus. Tigh and Starbuck foment a rift between those who lived through the occupation and those who didn't. Adama disowns Starbuck, and relieves Tigh of duty. Sharon is given the call sign "Athena".
-A Measure of Salvation **
Apollo devises a plan to download the fatal cylon virus into the entire race. The attack is sabotaged by Helo. The emotional impact of humanity having a chance to eliminate the cylons, is glossed over. One of the deleted scenes gives that idea the weight it deserves. I have trouble with Sharon's actions. Imagine Helo joining her with the cylons...reverse the roles, then posit a storyline in which he's complicit in the extermination of humanity. It just doesn't sit right. Aren't her actions as heinous as Baltar's? The original one, no less?
-Hero ***
Great googily, a threesome between 6, Baltar, and D'eanna. One of Adama's pilots, captured by cylons three years ago, returns in a stolen raider. Flashbacks to Adama commanding the battlestar Valkyrie. Questions arise about his role in starting the war.
-Unfinished Business ****
Stellar. Some of the tightest, brightest one-liners of the series. Grudge boxing matches are held aboard Galactica, to help the crew let off steam. Rank is dropped. Apollo fights Helo, Adama fights the Chief. Apollo and Starbuck are both in unhappy marriages. Amid flashbacks to a fling they had on New Caprica, the tension between them ends up in the ring.
-The Passage ***
Continuing the show's unflinching manner of killing off beloved supporting characters, Kat dies. An Adama/Tigh scene has the best laughter of the series.
-The Eye of Jupiter **
Amid mumbo jumbo, there's a standoff above a planet with a temple that points the way to Earth. The cylons offer Baltar as a bargaining chip.
-Rapture **
The standoff continues. Is Baltar a cylon? Is the Chief? Does anyone care?
-Taking a Break From All Your Worries **
Baltar is interrogated, and attempts suicide. Apollo and Starbuck continue to moon over each other. Now she's the one willing to leave her marriage. Apollo, i'm not a violent person, but you make me imagine Dee's family kicking the crapola out of you. Starbuck's not worthy of you, you're not worthy of Dee...
-The Woman King **
Despite a fine turn from guest star Bruce Davison, this one's foregone and conventional.
-A Day in the Life ***
Cally and the Chief are trapped in a decompressing bay. The rescue is edge-of-your-seat time.
-Dirty Hands ****
There's not one single thing flashy or sexy about this episode, which cannot be said about any other four-star entry. This is about people doing dirty jobs, in brutal conditions. It's about class struggle, and human rights. When people talked about this being not just the best sci fi on TV, but the best show, this is what they were talking about. You become nervous that the episode won't resolve without some Hollywood ending. They don't avoid it entirely, but close enough.
-Maelstrom *
The plunge into religious twaddle is no longer a minor plot point, it's the entire masturbatory focus. Don't watch if you A) care about this show, or B) have a weak stomach. It actually made me not care that Starbuck dies.
-The Son Also Rises **
Baltar's trial begins, with Lee on the defense team. Overall a lack of deftness in the writing, a recurring problem. The Adama/Lee conflict feels contrived.
-Crossroads **
The trial continues. The usually brilliant Rymer can't help this'n, but the cliffhanger gets the heart pumping. The conclusion of Baltar's trial is Jamie Bamber's greatest moment of the series.

Galactica, season 2

2011-12-12T09:58:00.000-08:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 4
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.9
-Scattered ****
Adama is dying, and Galactica loses the fleet (along with Doc Cottle). Apollo and Roslin are in the brig for treason, while Tigh declares martial law. On Caprica, Helo tells Starbuck that he's in love with a cylon. In a burst of sanity, Starbuck shoots at Sharon. Can Gaeta save the day? Yes, but it requires facing a cylon fleet while vital information gets downloaded.
-Valley of Darkness ****
Galactica is plunged into darkness by a cylon virus and boarded by centurions, who decimate all opposition in their attempt to vent the oxygen from the ship. Can Tigh hold it together? Can Apollo get his team to aft damage control? Blistering. Nobody directs like Michael Rymer.
-Fragged ***
Tigh struggles with leadership of the fleet, and Crashdown struggles as the leader of the downed survivors on Kobol.
-Resistance ***
Tigh loses his grip on the fleet. Cally kills Boomer. Civilians are killed by security forces, and Lee plots a prison break for Roslin. A resistance movement is found on Caprica. Doc Cottle gets the great lines.
-The Farm **
Starbuck is shot on Caprica, and wakes up in a resistance hospital...or is it, and why does she have a scar on her abdomen? We meet new Cylon Simon (Rick Worthy, the only BSG/ENTERPRISE crossover, unless one counts crewman Hoshi).
-Home ***
One third of the fleet defects with Roslin, to go back to Kobol. Starbuck, Helo, and Boomer#2 return to the fleet. Dee (Kandyse McClure) gives Adama a piece of her mind. Elosha steps on a mine (yay!). The episode we've been waiting for, in the Baltar/6 storyline. She appears as a de-glamorized version of herself (looking more attractive than ever), and tells him his visions are a symptom of psychosis. Adama embraces forgiveness, and rushes to Kobol to find Roslin and Apollo's team.
-Final Cut ***
A muckraking journalist gets permission to do an all-access documentary on Galactica. The journalist happens to be Lucy Lawless (Zena!), and she happens to be a cylon. An episode that teeters on the edge of mediocrity, but at the end, when the classic BSG theme plays over Lucy's summation voice-over, you're misty-eyed and satisfied.
-Flight of the Phoenix ***
The Chief combats the crew's malaise by designing and building a stealth fighter. We love ya, Chief.
-Pegasus ****
FANfanfanfan-tastic. Another surviving battlestar is discovered, led by the legendary Admiral Cain (Michelle Forbes, TREK's Ro). The ultimate BSG marathon would be this'n, and the classic "The Living Legend". Joy sours, as she outranks Adama and begins mixing the crews, sending Apollo and Starbuck to Pegasus. Pegasus' interrogators get their hands on Sharon. Helo and the Chief rush to her, as she is being raped. They accidentally kill the interrogator, and are sentenced to die on Pegasus. Adama orders an armed rescue.
-Resurrection Ship ***
Roslin negotiates a truce between the commanders. The discovery of a cylon resurrection ship, which allows dead cylons to download into new bodies, unites Cain and Adama into a strike plan. Cain makes Starbuck the Pegasus CAG. It's discovered that Cain murdered a disobedient X.O., and ordered civilian ships plundered and abandoned. Convinced that Cain will kill Adama, Roslin urges him to kill her first. As Cain plots Adama's murder, he tells Starbuck she must kill Cain. The attack is a success. Cain and Adama abort their mutual assassination plans. Baltar frees the Pegasus cylon prisoner, a 6 who had been brutalized into a catatonic state. She kills Cain. Roslin promotes Adama to admiral. Forbes, you were wonderful.
-Epiphanies **
Dying of cancer, Roslin orders the abortion of Sharon's baby. Helo is the father, defiantly in love with Sharon. Spurred by his visions of 6, Baltar discovers a way to keep the baby alive using the fetal blood to save the President.
-Black Market **
Apollo tracks down the black market traders who murdered the new Pegasus commander. He has an affair with a prostitute with a child, who reminds him of a woman he once impregnated and abandoned. This overly conventional episode is the first time they dropped the ball in the editing room, deleting two scenes that would have improved things considerably, one of which captures the budding Apollo/Dee romance.
-Scar ***
The resurrection ship destroyed, the cylons resort to hit and run attacks. Colonial pilot losses mount. Starbuck and Kat vow to be the first to destroy the most deadly raider, called Scar. Starbuck is off-balance at having left resistance fighter Anders behind on Caprica. She plunges into drink, almost has reckless sex with Apollo, and loses her top gun billing.
-Sacrifice **
Roslin's aide, Billy (Paul Campbell), whom Laura saw becoming President, has had an on-again, off-again romance with Dee. He proposes to her, and she refuses. He finds her on a date with Lee, when the bar they're in is taken by terrorists. Their leader (Dana Delaney) demands the immediate execution of Sharon. The rescue operation is bungled, Apollo shot by Starbuck. Billy, trying to impress Dee, is killed. Not even Apollo is worthy of Dee, but we forgave you, Billy, and didn't want you to die.
-The Captain's Hand ***
The Pegasus' new commander is Garner (the excellent John Heard), promoted from the engine room. Two raptors are lost on a training mission, and he jumps the Pegasus to rescue them. It's a trap, and he puts Lee in command as he repairs the jump drive. He's successful, but asphyxiates. Adama promotes Apollo to commander. Roslin, a lifelong defender of abortion, is forced by depopulation to make it illegal.
-RAZOR ****
The tale of Lee's first mission as Pegasus commander. Fantastic. With no less than five flashback subplots, it's amazing that it stays coherent. We see Adama as a young warrior, footage of the cylon attack on the fleet, and the darker aspects of Cain's command. The impetus behind this two-hour special was no doubt to make more use of the wonderful Michelle Forbes. It's told from the perspective of Lt. Kendra Shaw, former protege to Cain, whom Lee taps to be his X.O. The ending is the tiniest bit drawn-out and contrived, but that's forgiveable...as if all else weren't enough, there's an attack by classic raiders and centurions. Bloody fantastic.
-Downloaded **
A curious detour into the cylon world. Boomer and Caprica 6 are downloaded into new bodies, and meet on Caprica. Both are having trouble re-assimilating. 6 has a vision of Baltar in her head, talking to her! He's very composed. The first cylon-on-cylon homicide.
-Lay Down Your Burdens **
Baltar runs for President. Behind in the polls, he surges ahead when campaign manager Zarek suggests he make his platform the settlement of the fleet on a planet inside a nebula. Starbuck leads a resistance rescue operation to Caprica. The Chief has nightmares, and maims Cally when she tries to wake him. He gets counseling from an unconventional priest, Cavil (Dean Stockwell!)...a cylon! Roslin fixes the election, but is talked out of it by Adama. Baltar becomes President! The fleet settles on New Caprica. Suddenly it's a year later, and the planet is occupied by the cylons. The fleet, with skeleton crews, has jumped away. The producers took a huge leap with this one, but it doesn't hit on all cylinders.

The Time Tunnel

2011-12-09T17:17:00.000-08:00

THE TIME TUNNEL
1966
I tried to love this series, i really did.
The shortest-lived of Irwin Allen's shows (LOST IN SPACE, VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA). Set in 1968, it stars Robert Colbert (AMAZON WOMEN ON THE MOON) and James Darren (T.J. HOOKER, DEEP SPACE NINE) as time-traveling scientists who have lost control over when or where they'll land. The performances are charming, and the show's a visual delight. The network wanted to cut the season 2 budget, so Irwin called it quits. Some have called Allen's work the triumph of style over substance, and that about nails it. No one on the writing staff was advanced enough to embrace the notion that TV situations and characters could or should be realistic. It's worth watching for hard-core sci fi fans, and an episode or two might be fun at one a' them rowdy geek parties. It's also fun for anyone who wants to see Robert Duvall or Ellen Burstyn or Carroll O'Connor or Tom Skeritt before they were stars. But that's about it. In the spirit of appreciation for at least trying, here's my review of the pilot.
-Rendezvous with Yesterday ***
Four decades on, this show's formula of unsophisticated earnestness with charming production values adds up to fun. The writing is less than sharp, and the vision goes little further than the spirit of adventure, but i laughed out loud and raised my fist several times in appreciation. Tony and Doug's first timeleap lands them on the Titanic. Michael Rennie (THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL) and John Winston (STAR TREK) lend resonance. Showing none of that nitpicky preserve-the-timeline consciousness, they try to stop the accident!

Earth: Final Conflict

2011-12-09T16:44:00.000-08:00

Earth: Final Conflict
1997-2002
No no no no no no no.
Sigh.
Roddenberry scribbled some notes on napkins, then years after his death, his widow (STAR TREK veteran Majel Barrett) executive produces the scribbles into a series, playing a recurring character. Sounds promising, no?
No.
It's not good enough to like, not bad enough to hate. Aliens (who may have a hidden agenda) come to Earth bearing gifts. Great. Sure. It was overhauled in the second season, with the series star replaced by an ensemble vibe. Once i knew how middling it was, i thought i'd get through the first season, then watch the second just out of curiosity (if i came across it cheap).
I almost made it. With only an episode and a half left, i hit my breaking point.
When watching a show, the most significant question one can ask is, "What does this show have to say?" Were the EFC creators hoping that if they brought the other elements together well, nobody would mind the show's lack of a voice? Some shows can get away with that - LAW & ORDER being the most successful example. You don't even have to have a vision as distinct as TREK (or M*A*S*H, or CHAPELLE'S SHOW). But it becomes obvious fairly quickly when there's no active intelligence at work. Churning out an adventure that's a cookie cutter for the values and ideals of the time is an almost foolproof ticket for a swift delivery to history's dustbin.

cyber-dating 101

2011-12-08T10:55:00.000-08:00

So you've found yourself in the fascinating frontier of online dating! Relax and enjoy. Before very long, it will be hard to remember a time when people didn't meet this way. The most important thing is to put no pressure on the experience. Treat it like a cereal box prize - it's not going to change your life, but it might be fun. If you've engaged some form of paid site, you've probably already lost any chance at having that right attitude. But no matter! Here are some tips to keep the wind in your sails, and your course true.
You've gone through the preliminaries. You've created some sort of ad for yourself, or jumped into the swampy sea, and found an ad you like.
Now, you must answer it.
We'll wait, while you do that.
Back already? Good!
If you're on a free site, you've probably just given your e-mail address to a spam company who will sell your contact info to the marketers of miracle product Stiffie-Glow (patent pending). Or perhaps your "prospective love" is three giggling pre-teens. Mayhap even a diapered octogenarian, or my personal favorite, sociology undergrads doing field research. What? You could never be tricked by a fake ad? Oh, you sad thing. In this economy, spam companies can hire ad writers more clever than you or i will ever dream of being. And in affairs of love and sex, your gonads or ovaries can reduce your IQ by fifty points any time they damn well feel like it.
So okay! Now comes the fun part. You've made contact with someone who seems to be a human being. And they've weaved a web of words that have convinced you they might just be that special one in a million person who will, you know, kiss your genitals.
Don't get excited.
You haven't even seen this person yet (maybe they "forgot" to include a photo in their first note). Finally, your fingers click the command that will reveal their image. A picture - worth a thousand words. You betcher ass it is.
And...hey! Not bad. They don't look like a movie star, but let's be honest, no one looks like a movie star (including, and especially, movie stars). But this person is actually kinda, what's that word...cute!
Or you haven't been laid in a year. Either way...woo-woo!
Don't...get...excited.
This is the digital era. Everybody in the world has bumbled across one photo of themselves that makes them look vaguely dashing or delectable. Odds are the person on the other end looks nothing like this photo that you're already planning to download as your computer's wallpaper. People will submit any photo they are convinced shows their best side. If you were holding out for some sort of truth-in-advertising...well heck, i didn't even know they had turnip trucks anymore. Or have you been monopolizing that one truck your whole life? Relax, let somebody else deal with a Brassica rapa up their ass, and accept that this person will look very little like their photo...or at best, they kinda looked like that during the Bush administration (no, the other Bush administration). You might even get someone who is so dedicated to showing their best side that their head will be cropped out of the photo. I AM NOT making this up. When you ask for another photo, they will quickly oblige...with another headless photo. If you find one of these people, it will be far easier to get them to send naked (headless) images of themselves than a head shot. My advice is to go with it. Some people look goddamned good headless and naked.
So. You've got a connection, and a photo that flutters your endorphins. You exchange letters, and lo and behold...you uncover a delightful verbal chemistry! They seem intelligent and charming. You feel wittier than Noel Coward. You feel you can really TALK to this person.
Don't. Get. Excited.
You know virtually nothing about this person. Nothing about the interpersonal chemistry that might or might not exist. Nothing about their rythyms, their personal habits, or their smell...any of which might send you climbing a wall. It's even possible that, for some mutually-dysfunctional reason, you and this person might get stuck in this phase, and find reasons to put off meeting for a few weeks...or months...or even...this ACTUALLY HAPPENED to me...years. DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN. You will live the greatest disaster of the cyber-romance age: developing an emotional bond with someone you've not met. The ramifications of a blunder this colossal...well, check your wrists. If you have scars, be prepared for more.
Instead, the moment there's a clear personality connection combined with a visual image that doesn't make you retch, ask them which is the Starbucks of their choice. When you greet each other outside, take them to that dive coffee shop instead.
And then...
You've met.
Maybe, just maybe, you'll talk for hours.
Maybe, just maybe, you'll walk for a couple more. Maybe during your goodbye hug, it will be hard to resist falling asleep and drooling on their neck.
DON'T. GET. EXCITED.
You're now in the real world where you won't meet the "real" them for a month or two.
So okay. My work here is done. I'm off to go scan the "casual encounters" section, looking for an ad from a woman who has never experienced anal. For some reason that a million big blue computers couldn't figure out, this is where a lot of quality women post. Strangely enough, they're not even necessarily looking for anal. I have no idea why.
Class dismissed.

Trek's greatest episodes

2011-12-07T13:11:00.000-08:00

STAR TREK'S 12 GREATEST EPISODES
-The City on the Edge of Forever
-Mirror, Mirror
-All Our Yesterdays
-The Measure of a Man TNG
-Yesterday's Enterprise TNG
-Tapestry TNG
-The Siege of AR-558 DS9
-Death Wish VOY
-Someone to Watch Over Me VOY
-Blink of an Eye VOY
-Similitude ENT
-In a Mirror, Darkly ENT

UGH!

2011-12-06T03:36:00.000-08:00

(A TV executive stands at a podium, addressing the media)
EXECUTIVE: Good afternoon. After the decades-long successful pairing of WHEEL OF FORTUNE and JEOPARDY, Sony/CBS is happy to announce the debut of a new game show, which will air in the time slot immediately preceding WHEEL. This new show, entitled UGH!, will feature two-person teams of contestants attempting to put irregularly-shaped objects into corresponding holes. They will race to beat the clock, using hands and mallets and possibly foreheads in their efforts to get the objects into the holes. Each contestant will have their own row of holes, and won't know whether the objects go into their row or their partner's. They will pass or hurl any objects that don't seem to fit, to their partner ten feet away. During play, contestants who speak any words aloud will be immediately disqualified. They will be allowed to communicate with their partners (and themselves) only through guttural, uni- or poly-syllabic grunts, shouts, and moans. UGH! was created as the result of a study of comparitive IQs of JEOPARDY and WHEEL audiences. The average WHEEL viewer has an IQ of 91, the average JEOPARDY viewer 112. Our researchers tell us there is an untapped demographic these shows exclude, the 30-some percent of Americans who are uncomfortable with the complexity of WHEEL. It is these viewers that UGH! will target, plus a majority of WHEEL viewers, and also those JEOPARDY viewers who are embarrassed by WHEEL, yet also have tendencies toward intellectual arrogance and slapstick. I'll take any questions now...

beedom

2011-12-06T03:35:00.000-08:00

You don't have to be wise with me
Just be
You don't have to be strong with me
Just be
You don't have to be funny with me
Just be
You don't have to be patient with me
Just be
You don't have to be humble with me
Just be
You don't have to be yourself with me
Just be

Turn Away

2011-12-05T14:45:00.000-08:00

(sung to the tune of Chicago's "Look Away", the #1 single of 1989)

When Cetera left the band
We all feared we'd lost our sound
We were bummin' baby
Really bummin' baby

Found someone else
A new kid in town
His name is Jason, baby
It's really Jason, baby, whoa...

We made Chicago 18
David Foster was still around
We kicked some righteous tunes
With that sweet brass rockin' sound
And so we came right back for more
Made Chicago 19 as we kicked Foster out the door

But if we're on the radio
And you don't know where to go
Turn away, baby, turn away
If you remember Hard Habit to Break
And it's more than you can take
Turn away, baby, turn away
Don't listen to this
We don't want you to hear us this way

It's so hard for us to say we're sorry
For offering up this turd
It's a power ballad, baby
Michael Bolton passed on, baby, whoa

The charts say it's fine
But that's pretty damn absurd
This song could use some brass
Could really use some brass, whoa...

We just never thought
That Cetera'd up and run
Feelin' weaker every day, how could this be #1?
The days of multi-plats are old
Our next album, it won't even go gold

And if we're on the radio
And you don't know where to go
Turn away, baby, turn away
If you remember Hard Habit to Break
And it's more than you can take
Turn away, baby, turn away
Don't listen to this
We don't want you to hear us this way

When Cetera left the band
We all feared we'd lost our sound
We were bummin' baby
Really bummin' baby

new yorkers

2011-12-03T14:04:00.000-08:00

I've lived in New York for eight years, and it wasn't until today that i realized i'm not a New Yorker. And probably will never be.
I had an experience that crystallized what a New Yorker is. I've searched for a word to capture the essence. I thought it might be "jaded", but whatever else they may be, New Yorkers are Americans, and Americans are too coddled to be paragons of jadedness.
The right word finally hit me.
Imperturbable.
New Yorkers are the most imperturbable people on the face of the planet.
I was doing art modeling for a painter in his Queens studio. The studio is in an enormous six-story factory/warehouse/office building. It's more than a block long. Near the end of our session, the fire alarm went off. I didn't say anything, and the artist kept drawing. After a minute, he said that it was probably somebody smoking.
The alarm keeps ringing on and off for the next few minutes. Then, the urgent voice of one of the artist's co-tenants is heard shouting, "The building's on fire!!" I was dressed up for the pose. I picked up my own clothes and bag, and followed the artist out the door. I debated grabbing my bike, but thought better of it. When we got to the main hallway, there was grey smoke from floor to ceiling. We could see well enough to get around, but couldn't tell where the smoke was coming from. We reached the fire escape, and got out of the building.
This is where New Yorkers and the rest of the world take different paths.
There were fifteen of us on the fire escape. The fifth floor. None of us then did the thing that any of you would do.
None of us walked down the fire escape.
I went farther than the others. I went down half a landing, putting me ten feet further away from the door.
Everyone else just stopped.
There was smoke coming out of the door, clearly being breathed in by everyone except me. A couple of them didn't even come all the way outside.
They just stood there...essentially waiting for the all-clear to go back into the building. To get back to work.
The all-clear?
Kids, your building is on fire.
Pheh, the New Yorkers say. I don't see flames. It's not even hot.
But...what about the smoke! Do any of you have any idea whether that smoke might be, what's the word, toxic?
Phooey, the New Yorkers say. If these orders don't get filled, there'll be hell to pay.
The nuttiest part?
Within fifteen minutes, everybody was back at work.
Don't tell me the Japanese have a better work ethic. If our economy is struggling, it's only because "Noo Yawk Attytood 101" isn't on the syllabus at every business school in the country.
No, i'm not a New Yorker. What's going through my mind in that situation is, "Whee! If i make it out alive, i've got the rest of the day off! Hell, maybe the rest of the week! Live, baby, live!"
Since i was the only person who actually removed myself from the building and the smoke, it's quite clear that i am not now, and probably never will be, a New Yorker.
Plus, i'm also pretty sure that no true New Yorker would ever use the word "phooey".

bug-eyed

2011-12-01T14:01:00.000-08:00

(WARNING: the following employs comedic exaggeration, but not nearly as much as 99% of you will think)

Know how to turn a woman into a bug-eyed deer caught in the universe's headlights?
Declare your intent to love her.
Her shock and confusion will allow you to approach her. Once you get close, you might be granted a few weeks during which she figures you out. Once she realizes you have no desire other than to love her, she'll know that proceeding any further will allow you to find out how fucked up she is. The last glimpse you will have of her is the flash of a bushy tail as she bounds off into life's thicket.
Romance novels.
Lies.
Chick flicks.
Lies.
Lies so devious the deceivers are deceived.
There is one woman in this world who desires to be loved. She lives in Manitoba, is slyly flatulent, and wears one of them flappy hats. Unless your name is Ralph Meeker or Jojobu Tsangwe, you will not be dealing with her today. Unless you are Ralph or Jojobu, do NOT declare your intent to love any woman you face today.
Declare your intent to enable her. This will bring her great comfort.
Declare your intent to fuck her. She'll know how to handle that.
Declare your intent to subsidize her. She'll offer you her body, and secretly resent you.
Declare your intent to cage her. She'll scamper in gladly (as she palms your spare key).
Pity her? Absolutely.
Pity yourself? Probably.
And if you think you or she has it bad, try to imagine the living hell of a woman declaring her intent to love a man.

Andromeda

2011-12-01T09:39:00.000-08:00

2000-2005
Well, it's not horrible.

Farscape

2011-12-01T05:39:00.000-08:00

1999-2003
My loathing for this series is quite out of balance with how offensive it actually is. There are those among you who might even enjoy it, and i wouldn't call you patent morons for doing so. I simply fell into the unfortunate circumstance of believing a reviewer who said that the third season was so great it was worth sitting through the first two. So i did.
The show starts promisingly. Winning performances, sharp visuals...
But that promise de-rails quickly.
It was filmed in Australia and produced by the Henson Company, with puppets alongside human actors. It's the tale of an astronaut who is hurled to the other side of the galaxy, quickly becoming a hunted fugitive along with a small band of escaped political prisoners on a living spaceship. There is a high level of mistrust, but they work together to survive.
An idea, as they say, with legs.
The problem is, the writers want it both ways. The mistrust is undercut by a touchy-feely vibe. These two forces are at odds, and the reality of the former is negated by the needs of the latter, in a way that feels forced. Get ugly, get raw, or put on a production of "Up With People". But don't do both.
And it might even have worked, if the lead weren't such a whiny asshat. John Crichton too often says or does the wrong thing, making it too hard to root for him. Part of the show's charm was supposed to be his pop-culture references that only the audience gets. But he comes off as too much pretty boy and not enough geek for that aspect to work. Ben Browder is a capable actor, but the wrong casting choice. The character of Zhaan (Virginia Hey) had great potential, but her seeker's wisdom and absence of nudity taboos petered out through writer neglect. The epic, adrenaline-filled closing music makes you think that the composer never saw the show. Kent McCord (ADAM-12, AIRPLANE 2) is charming as the recurring father. But the show doesn't work. The fact that it's almost clever, almost innovative, and almost daring ultimately make it more infuriating than all those shows which are none of those things. One great episode in two seasons (the tight and dark "A Human Reaction") isn't enough to warrant not pulling the plug. By the time i got to the second half of the second season, my head-shaking "walk-away" klaxon was insistent. When i finally survived to that heralded third season, i only lasted an episode and a half before a maudlin plotline about moronic sexual jealousy pushed my retch reaction over the edge.

Vanessa

2011-11-29T14:46:00.000-08:00

WOMEN 36
VANESSA
Hm. Putting her name in caps doesn't seem sufficient. Is there a caps-exponential option? In my first year in New York, my brothers set me up with a newer computer, and at their insistence i relented to finally joining this thing called the internet. Before long, i was glad i had. On Craigslist, a site i surfed for jobs, i came across a "platonic only" personals section. I'd always thought personals a touch pathetic, but this was a twist, so i explored, and answered some ads. Vanessa was very sad, just looking for honesty. We wrote back and forth for a couple months, much of it about the misery she was enduring with her boyfriend. He lied to her, cheated on her, accused her…she sounds like a sap, but she was no dummy. Born and raised in Chinatown, she was very Americanized (she had gone to college in the Midwest), but her parents were first-generation, and many if not most of her problems stemmed from old world guilt. She spoke Chinese in her parents’ home. A freelance web designer, she'd had one long-term romance in her college years, which ended in harsh betrayal. For the past few years she'd gone from one dysfunctional relationship to another. Asserting her own needs and self was where she always came up short. We finally met one early evening at a Virgin Music Store cafe. Before a word was spoken, there was a whooshing inside me, and three little words flashed in my mind, "i’m in trouble". We discovered that talking in person was as nice and comfy as our letters had been. If she were taller she'd have been called willowy. She wore lots of black. She was in good shape, with some muscle tone. In two obvious ways she wasn’t my type - she had died a section of her beautiful beyond-shoulder-length hair red, and had a navel piercing. I was no fan of jewelry in general, and navel rings in particular (so embarrassingly derivative...but an African lip disc wouldn’t have kept me from her). A month or two swirled by in which we phoned or wrote almost daily, and saw each other once a week or so. Walking along the Battery Park waterfront one evening, we stopped in a little courtyard. I was climbing a stone structure behind her. The wind was blowing off the water, and she spread her arms as it flowed by. I knew in that moment that her arms were the most beautiful i’d ever seen. I came down behind her, and raised my arms to match hers. We meandered on. Then as always, her demons were never far...and they usually summoned her through cell phone. Demons of parents or boyfriend. We ended up in a playground, two interlopers with a world to ourselves. We came to rest eight feet off the ground on a net, looking up at the sky. Finally our hands brushed, and a brush became contact that didn’t break. I broke the mood by suddenly tumbling away, making her smile. I said i wanted to hold her. She said that would be nice. We cuddled until we were rousted by a flatfoot. I dreamed of returning one future night, to make love with her on the net. I soon told her that wanting to hold her was becoming one of the driving forces of my life. She started visiting me in Jersey City. I picked her up at the Journal Square PATH station, and drove her two miles to my home (she was a night person, and the shuttle busses were usually done running by the time she crossed the Hudson). Her first visit was during a rainstorm, and we arrived at my home soaking. The rain became a minor motif in our relationship; it seemed the skies turned on the waterworks so often when we were together. That first night her demons found her almost as soon as she was in my door. She took the call, and argued tearfully in Chinese with her father for half an hour, looking out the back window. At one point i lightly hugged her from behind. I broke off after a minute, because i suddenly had the kind of erection that arrives fully stiff in the space of a breath, which was not the hug i'd intended. Finally she came into my room, where i waited in candlelit darkness. She lay down, put her wet head on me, and before long her tears flowed onto my neck. I wanted to stay in the moment forever. On another visit, there was a more torrential downpour, and i kept circling in my car, unable to spot her. I parked illegally, and ran through the storm, searching. Finally there she was. I grabbed her hand and we ran. With the car in sight, we came together in an embrace. The profound violence of the wind and rain was so beautiful, as i held her with a need i was only beginning to understand. In the tumble of those months, clothing dropped away from our nights together, and on that stormy night, her tears on my chest, i knew i was in love. She said she had never been unfaithful, and couldn’t be now. I said that was fine. On those many nights we shared my bed, i searched for ways to express the blinding feeling inside me. Embraces gave way to baby kisses over every square centimeter of her. The first time her bra came away…i'd known that her chest was small, but wasn't prepared for how small. I grew to desire her physically like nothing i had ever known. My closed-mouth kisses evolved into open-mouthed...timeless explorations with lips and tongue. I still held back from any fluid swapping, but every piece of exposed skin on her, i found. She said that no man had ever given her attention on that scale. My mind reeled as she spoke, knowing how much i was holding back. I wanted to ingest her, devour her, pour myself into her. The word "worship" had always seemed perverse when applied to human loving, but that word slammed into my existence as one of the few that began to capture what i was feeling. One night i took her big toe into my mouth and worked it over, not sure whether i was going too far or even if she would like it. It was the first toe i ever sucked. She liked it. I explored and caressed with hands, arms, fingers, nose, and face…i spent hours kissing her pelvis, front and back. I grew weak at the sight of her ass. I didn’t realize it the first time (as i had with her arms), but as time wore on i knew that every tushie i'd ever seen or touched just paled in comparison. I wanted to put a tent on her tush and live there forever…although in truth part of my relationship to her ass may have been about more than just her. I had never before related to the ass as an erogenous zone, and remember laughing at some of my drunken floormates in college who talked about rimming or wanting to rim. But through my taoist training, my anus view had been changing. Putting a finger in my own while pleasuring myself was interesting, and not unpleasant. One of my artist friends told me that a rim job done right was one of the most exquisite pleasures to be found. I suppose these factors placed me in a growingly receptive state of mind, and...one night, as i kissed and nuzzled her behind, i suddenly knew that i wanted to plunge my tongue into every orifice she had. How i restrained myself to the extent that i did during those months…it's partly a mystery, as i’d never tasted anyone so perfect and true. But i knew it was important to her that we wait. Because of that, resisting the purest desire i’d ever known was in a sense, easy. To love her, and love her right…i began having thoughts of changing my life, of sacrifices and such, to be with her. This wasn’t as mind-blowing as it should have been, considering that no woman had ever even vaguely affected me like that. With Vanessa, so many of the controls and walls i'd acquired in a lifetime felt irrelevant. Things like pregnancy or safe sex…if she had an STD, i wanted it. If there were an experience to be had, be she by my side, then bring it. I know, a lot of my reaction can only rationally be called…not rational. But there it is. Perhaps the single most brain-scrambling moment with her came in the apartment of her closest friend M, who was interning at a downtown hospital. M was great, tiny with big expressive eyes and an irrepressible personality (Vanessa called her an anime character). M hated Vanessa’s boyfriend. M liked me. One night, Vanessa invited me to stay with her at M’s, who had an all-night shift. Vanessa drew a candlelit bath, and sometime that night i broke one of our barriers a tiny bit. I was holding my head to hers, nuzzling her face for an eternity. As i held my closed lips against hers, my tongue came out and licked her upper lip. Then the lower. Then very slowly across them both. I stopped. Her lips had parted. My tongue crept inside her just a bit, and i lightly touched her teeth. I held my tongue still. From between her nearly-clenched teeth, her tongue came out and slowly rolled across mine. And my brain promptly flew...apart. One night, she took me to a nice restaurant and showered me with gifts, chiefly a beautiful journal that had her poetry on the cover. She hoped that i would fill it with words for her. I said that i suspected it would stay empty until the day when her love was as free as mine (i was writing poems about her, just not in the journal). I told her i imagined sitting with the journal on an ocean cliff someday, where computers and phones don't go. One night we strolled through the city hand in hand, with me wearing a four-foot wide Sponge Bob costume. We talked about moving to Alaska, or upstate to New Palz, or opening a little bookstore in the Rockies. Getting away from her parents would bring her nothing but good, i thought. I imagined how unbearably cute she would be in ten years, or fifty, when all that heavy weight was lifted from her head. All these bizarre life-partnering ideas, and thoughts of taking a regular job, i had never even begun to entertain them with any other woman. Would i have done them? It’s a tricky question, but one that took a backseat to doing what was right to get her healthy with herself. Living life on my own terms and chasing my dreams had long been so enormous a part of me that…i can’t say with certainty what would have happened had Vanessa been able to be with me. Nor can i say that her inability wasn't ultimately the best thing for me, in terms of living my life optimally. But what is certain is the paralyzing comfort i felt around her. Hormones? Of course. I couldn't know what our true togetherness would be like, but i kept getting windows into her that revealed how like-minded we could be when it came to day-to-day living and worldviews. That was perhaps the most mind-blowing thought of all, that after thirty-six years i knew what it was to desire another human without reservation, and maybe just maybe that same human was also startlingly compatible?? I’d never known any woman who was startlingly compatible. Of course, her depression was not startlingly compatible. Depression had been a part of her life for just about as long as she could remember. I forget how young she was when she first tried to take her life…she hadn’t tried in a long time, but the figurative and literal scars were there. One day she decided that we could never be compatible, as any man wanting to love her would have to have known clinical depression himself. Maybe i never did see her at her worst, but never once did i see any behavior that frightened me or made me think she needed anything other than the loving all humans need. If any of this sounds like it can’t have been fun for me, disabuse yourself of that idea. My time with her was never anything other than sweetly, joyously, profoundly humbling. I did grill myself from time to time over why i had such a strong reaction to her, and whether it were just another beautiful manifestation of the lifelong attraction i’ve had for the wounded ones. She said she had done little or nothing to earn my love. Even though i told her she would have plenty of opportunity to earn what had been given, and that i wasn’t the type to stay in an unbalanced relationship…i also said that maybe sometimes things come our way that are pure and unconditional, and don’t need to be earned. She said she feared that if she couldn’t be with me now, she might never get a chance again. She talked about the possibility of past lives when we had been lovers. She had a little eye twitch, and i joked with her about passing an unfortunate gene on to our children. I was being glib...but also not. I wanted to share every fragment of life with her, from the most profound to the most mundane. I wanted her to know what it feels like to hold my penis while i peed. I wanted her to pee on me (not regularly, understand). When our relationship ended, i needed to remove physical reminders of her, but i kept the journal. Sometime during those many months, i said two words to her that i'd never said to another woman. Understand, i am not a pusher. Not. A. Pusher. If there is a school of thought that says that each person must find their own path, i sit in the front row. But one night as i held her, my lips whispered the words, "Leave him". I never met him nor the parents. So many nights i would talk to her on the phone as she sat locked in her own bathroom (their arguments would often culminate in her running to the bathroom and locking him out). Sometimes she would strike at him, when he was forcing his presence on her. He would pin her to the ground. He'd been living with her for many many months, without paying rent. During this time, she wasn’t working a great deal, as she needed to go back to school to get on the cutting edge of web design. I told her to kick him out, and i'd move in to share her rent load. Not even as a boyfriend, i said, because she suspected that when she finished with him she might need to be away from romance altogether. I said i would be whatever she needed. The only profound moment of hurt i had with her was when she said that the time it took to travel to me was a burden she no longer wanted. She did finally get him out of her home. By that point, she had broken off our romance…over being unfair to me, or being "clean" when they broke up. Whatever she needed, i responded with love. On our last morning, we woke up kissing and cuddling, our heads at the foot of my bed. She had been wearing black panties. I’ve never been a fan of lingerie, but these panties had the cutest windows on the sides (in the months that followed, i so wished i had kidnapped them). I rolled her on top of me, and our naked genitals came together. Up to that moment, i had avoided all but the most incidental genital contact...but as i held her, it felt so blissfully perfect. The closest thing my life had ever known to sustained perfection. At that moment, and on earlier occasions, i was sure she would have let me inside her, choosing to deal with the unhappiness and guilt later. As her labia rested on my half-erection, i was a little surprised i wasn't more stiff. But maybe psychologically my penis was smarter than i, because i’m not sure we would have resisted penetration, had i been at full mast. On that final morning, there were signs that we were becoming closer. She was considering going to the shore with me that very day. But perhaps a part of me sensed that our growing closeness would push her to run away. Maybe that put a tiny seed of desperation in my spirit, and maybe that seed would have made me act rashly. This is all a lot of analysis for a single moment when there was NO such overt thought going on. Before that, the number of erections i'd had from much less intimate contact with her was pronounced. In any event, i felt just a touch limp and off-balance as we parted. As time went by i became glad (for her, and probably for me too) that my penis had chosen that moment to be at half-mast. After she broke with her boyfriend, we kept in touch, though only once a week or so. A month or two later, she talked about me visiting her home. But then the strange thing occurred. She told me that more and more she wasn’t thinking about me romantically, and was becoming sure that we were not going to be lovers. I accepted it peacefully, but realized that a world in which she and i weren't together was not a world i could make any sense of. I sent her all the love i had, left the door open for her to find me again, and said goodbye. Not trusting myself to be strong enough (me!) to not contact her some lonely year, i destroyed all records of her contact information. It took me the better part of a year to banish her e-mail address from my conscious thoughts. I still remember pieces of it...fragments. It's funny the places your mind can go, in the wake of something so profound. You search for blame, where blame isn't appropriate. Could the greatest love of my life have been foiled by bad breath? I had been dealing with it for a couple years, and hadn't yet acquired my current complex oral hygiene habits. A very silly thought, perhaps. I'm content to know she loved me as much as she could, and if turning from me was what she needed to start healing...that thought keeps any demons of regret at bay. The demons are caged, through the strength born of loving her.

Drinking in Fort Myers Beach

2011-11-28T08:15:00.000-08:00

THEATER 56
-spring 2001
At Tony's prompting, i had started reading the playwright Eric Bogosian. A modern writer part Shaw and part Lenny Bruce. I fell in love. He was famous for one-man shows in which he plays a series of extreme characters. I held auditions, and the chief talent to emerge was Michael Steen. He was very sorry about how he had dropped out of SEXUAL PERVERSITY. I'm a sucker for redemption, so decided to take one more chance on him. The flip side of the risk was his talent and passion. He called me his brother, and i felt the same. Had there been other actors cast, i wouldn't have exposed them to the risk, but Michael and i had been the only clear Bogosian talent. We turned DRINKING IN AMERICA into a two-man show, distributing the monologues. I fiddled with the lineup, dropping two pieces and adding one unproduced "orphan", as Bogosian calls them. I asked Michael to choose his own pieces, and our selections balanced, except for a piece we both wanted called "Our Gang", wherein an Italian punk recounts "amusing" anecdotes of drug-induced violence. I decided we should audition it for each other. I went first, and when i was done, he said he'd been convinced (i was very happy, as it was probably the part i'd wanted most). My other pieces were "Journal", in which a middle-aged man finds a college-era journal filled with long-forgotten ideals, "Wired", in which a coked-out Hollywood agent wheels and deals, "Confession", in which a drunk confesses his sins to God, and "Melting Pot", in which an old Greek cook abuses the restaurant staff (i had only to look to the kitchen ten feet away for inspiration, and hoped Tony's brother Jimmy would be flattered). Rehearsals went wonderfully, because of the delight in working with someone who is at your level and very simpatico with you. We often rehearsed at Michael's place, as his transportation was unreliable. We directed each other. He told me i always had a place to crash, should i ever need one. He looked into other venues where we could tour. As opening approached, trouble began brewing with the Mallous's. The edgy content of our plays again had some of them upset. Family discord was S.O.P., so i didn't get overly concerned. Earlier that year, one of the wives had even calmly threatened me with mafia-style bodily harm. And then...on the eve of our opening, we were kicked out. It wasn't the show per se, because earlier pieces had been just as edgy. I think it was just a matter of the family being tired of Tony getting his way. At a time when he was weakened from dealing with a divorce, they banded together and insisted "no" to this show. With posters and press releases out, we suddenly had no space. I accepted that Tony could no longer be our protector and that we would have no show that week, and went to find a new space. In my postering activity, i had developed relationships with many of the businesses on the beach. Paul Longua, owner of the Scope Shack, a photo shop/art gallery, had always told me that his place was there should we ever need a space. I went to him and asked him how much he had meant it. He said how soon, i said next week, and he said "cool". I issued new press releases and put up new posters. Charles Runnells, the county's top reviewer, ran a piece about our ousting, entitled "Orpheus Descending". He interviewed both Tony and i. Tony lied, claiming that the decision had been his. I spoke openly, and family anger at me was increased when i aired their dissension. Over at the Scope Shack, we walked into heaven. Not having to fight restaurant noise, being able to schedule whatever whenever...at the Orpheus, we had never had our own key, storage space was at a minimum, and we had to break down the set every night. Opening night (with a bonus week of rehearsal) was very solid. The Scope Shack was off the main drag, so we had less walk-in traffic. We played the first weekend to small (10-15) but very happy crowds. Shane had passed on stage-managing this one, so we did it by committee. Paul's friend Kalli did it the second and fourth weeks, another friend Jenn did it the third week, and Melissa from sex, lies, and videotape did it the first. She and Michael, both veterans of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, made a nice connection. She was fun backstage, and i incorporated her doodling on my "journal" into my character history. Paul arranged for wine to be offered to the patrons, and was there for every performance. And then...as we came into our second weekend, Michael hadn't returned a couple of my calls. 7:30 on show night came, and he wasn't there. I called his phone machine again, and continued to set up. At 8:20, there could be no more waiting. I told the audience that we were one actor short, that i would perform my half of the show, and half-refunds would be available afterwards. I performed, the audience had a wonderful time, and no one asked for money back. Michael called later that night, saying that his motorcycle had broken down and that he was having personal problems. He said he wouldn't be back for the rest of the run, and was going to move in with a friend where he couldn't be reached. Charles Runnells, the county's top reviewer, was in the audience that night. He hadn't been able to fully review all of our shows thus far. He had been prepped for a full review, but didn't feel he could do so for only half a show. In his column, he did write about Michael's being missing in action, and spoke well of the show. I prepared for the rest of the run alone. I pressed Paul into service to do the intro with me, in which we come out in robes and boxing gloves, spar a moment, then shadow box with liquor bottles. Paul was a great guy, fun and intelligent, and a painter. I took over one of Michael's pieces, "The Law". It was a minister's rant advocating the shooting of muggers, bombing of abortion clinics, and nuking of terrorists (this was pre-9/11, too). It was an easy piece to add, for i could tape the script into a Bible. I had a great time with the rest of the run. One of my favorite rewrites was in "Confession", wherein i fantasized about the pubescent Olsen twins naked and making love to one another. There was also a great rewrite in "Wired", about how Hasselhoff wasn't available because he had been eaten by a shark. Audiences remained small and very appreciative. Amanda never made it to the show, which made me sad. Derek did come, and thought it was wonderful. His being there meant so much to me, particularly with how disappointed in me he had been during SPEED-THE-PLOW. I had chosen as a show song "Pray", by M.C. Hammer, partly in honor of Derek's Hammer moves. We also used many tracks from the inexpressibly brilliant Tom Waits album SMALL CHANGE. During our original opening week, we received news that Leela, our Joan from SEXUAL PERVERSITY, had been killed by a drunk driver at a Jimmy Buffett concert. It was a profound blow to all of us, particularly Amanda. The week before she died, Leela and i had been discussing doing another project. Hers was the first corpse i ever kissed. At the funeral, the whole SPIC crew was there (except for Shane, who didn't deal with death). I'd had thoughts of getting up and doing a tribute to her. I had one worked out in my head that was in keeping with her quirky spirit...i had planned to sit on the casket to talk. But i figured it wasn't my place, as Amanda had been closer to her and Will had been her lover. When the moment came, none of us stood, and Amanda gestured to me to stand up. Caught off-balance, i didn't. I wish i had. Her death put an end to talk of a reunion run of SEXUAL PERVERSITY, or of doing the show with the same cast but reversing genders. One of the funniest moments of DRINKING IN AMERICA came when a jaunty patron didn't realize the front gallery wall was a glass plate, and plowed right into it, falling to the ground. He may have had a little nip or two, which resonated beautifully with the show title. Also, we had fairies one performance. Dozens of little spots of light, dancing on the wall, for which we could find no source. They are very visible in the videotape of the show.

MAS*H, season 5

2011-11-23T07:19:00.000-08:00

FOUR STAR
-Bug Out
The camp must relocate in the face of a Chinese advance. Hawkeye, Margaret, and Radar stay behind with a spinal patient. Potter and B.J. move the unit to an (almost) ex-brothel. Klinger gives up his dresses in exchange for the new building, a writing choice that almost turns prostitution into a disrespectful joke.
-Margaret's Engagement
Margaret returns from a wild weekend in Tokyo, with an engagement ring. Her crassly insensitive treatment of Frank is a human twist on their relationship, which was never ideal for her. Frank's phone conversation with his mother, talking about how Dad never liked him, is brilliantly executed...for just a second, you cry for this noxious fool. Alda's observation that the greatest performance of the series belonged to Mr. Linville, is a thought worth pondering. At the end, all the Swamprats enjoy their first shared laugh ever.
-The Nurses
One of Margaret's most enduring moments, as tensions mount between her and her staff. She tightens discipline, and they hiss back. Lt. Baker gets confined to quarters, as her new husband arrives for a 24-hour honeymoon. The Swamprats conspire to get them alone. Margaret bursts into tears when she confronts the nurses, saying that all she ever wanted was to be included in their fun.
-The Abduction of Margaret Houlihan
Margaret goes off in the night to help deliver a Korean baby. Klinger, the only one who knows she's gone, goes to sleep. Frank goes into hysterics, and Radar goes into the women's shower. Col. Flagg shows up, and he's never better (as Italian officer or Vegas showgirl). They took an idea and went the perfect way with it...the episode would have been abysmal had Margaret been actually abducted.
-Dear Sigmund
Sidney drops in for an extended stay, burnt out from work. He writes a letter to Freud about the lunatic 4077th, which is currently under siege by a phantom practical joker (who turns out to be, of all people, BJ). Beautiful little moments of anarchy, and Allan Arbus is priceless as always. Plus a lovely appearance by Sal Viscuso (Father Tim, SOAP).
-Hawk's Nightmare
Hawkeye starts sleepwalking and having nightmares of childhood friends dying. Brilliantly rendered work by Alan (and Gary), and another irrepressible appearance by Sidney.
-Hanky Panky
B.J. falls off the fidelity wagon, while comforting a nurse whose husband is divorcing her. As a child, this episode hit me indelibly...it was just inconceivable that B.J. could stray. The performances by Mike Farrell and guest Ann Sweeny are tender and nuanced. On another level, this episode is a testimony to the debilitating effects of culturally-enforced monogamy, and a maudlin endorsement thereof...but at least it's a fantastically-made maudlin testimony.
-The General's Practitioner
A near-seamless slice of perfection. A hard-nosed general (Edward Binns, TWELVE ANGRY MEN) sets his eyes on Hawkeye as his personal physician. Hawkeye resists, making the general want him more. The B plot is towering. A G.I. returning home asks Radar to look after his Korean girlfriend...and child. Gary's sensitive, touching performance belongs on any Radar top-ten list. The G.I.? Only Larry Wilcox (Jon! Of CHiPS!).
-Movie Tonight
Potter tries to raise camp morale with a viewing of MY DARLING CLEMENTINE. The clips of the movie are a delight. Everyone entertains themselves during the (literal) breaks. If you think about it too closely, this episode is just a vehicle for a bunch of actors to show off performance skills that are more polished than their characters would be capable of. But somehow, it all comes together in priceless delight. The roundtable impersonations of Mulcahy? Iconic.
NOTEWORTHY
-Hawkeye Get Your Gun ***
Potter and Hawkeye help out a frontline aid station, and on the trip back come under heavy fire. Hawkeye comes up with an alternate solution to shooting back. The driving and drinking scene is too classic, in no small part because it would never make it onto the air today.
-Exorcism ***
Potter allows a Korean spirit exorcism after a rash of bad incidents. It's always fun to see guest actors re-used. A double-dip in this case, with Philip Ahn (the father in Hawkeye's concussion episode) as a superstitious grandfather, and Virginia Ann Lee (Yung Hi, the most adorable moose ever) as the sweet, sensible granddaughter.
-The Most Unforgettable Characters **
Radar takes a writer's correspondence course. It's unfair to come down too hard on a single episode for not clicking, but...if there is any legitimacy to the charge that M*A*S*H (particularly the later seasons) occasionally descended into saccharine sentimentality, this might be the first place to look.
-End Run **
A star college football player loses a leg. She the previous entry's note, and wrap it in a Hallmark card.
-Souvenirs ***
Michael Bell (Groppler Zorn! Sabrina's ex on CHARLIE'S ANGELS!)! And...Brian Dennehy! Woo woo!
-Post Op ***
As breezy and fun as three stars gets. A parade of interactions with recovering soldiers in post op, including another helping of Sal Viscuso (SOAP), a standup routine of a come-on to Margaret by Andy Romano, and a shot-in-the-butt Jack Baker (KENTUCKY FRIED MOVIE).

dear almeria 2

2011-11-21T15:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Almeria,
I'm not saying it's inconceivable that you and your family are in some heightened state of grace, free of all untruth. I'm just saying i don't think i've ever met any family or group who had ascended to that level.
It's not about truth. It's about manipulation.
People use lies to manipulate. People also use truth to manipulate, and in doing so can be quite dishonest.
Sometimes a considerable level of non-manipulation is possible. This happens because we all gravitate to people who affirm some part of ourselves (and generally avoid people who don't). But there may be moments in your life when you have a flash of insight over the subtle ways we all manipulate. You may observe a friend interacting with someone else, in a moment when they don't know you're watching. It may strike you that your friend is behaving in a way you don't recognize. It doesn't mean that they aren't truthful when they're with you, just that they like certain parts of themselves that your company affirms, so those are the parts they constantly re-affirm with you. With other people, they seek different affirmations (or similar affirmations differently-flavored).
Is this dishonesty?
Or you may have a flash of insight into yourself...you may meet someone you want very much to like you, and you may realize that how you present yourself is flexible. In your choice of word and action, your mind is capable of incredible subtlety in how you present yourself, in order to be treated the way you wish. The way you present your truth, or the aspect of your truth you choose to present, has an enormous manipulative effect on the world around you. We're all too broken and scared to not take complete advantage of that (even when we don't realize we're doing it).
An example...when i gave my description of why i'm anti-religious, it was entirely truthful. But i could also have talked about invisible rabbits. If someone says there is an invisible rabbit who speaks to them, just about everyone would agree that there are no such rabbits. But if someone says they have an invisible father figure who is going to make them immortal, far fewer people in this society would call them a lunatic. Strictly speaking, both people are equally lunatic. Did i give you my anti-intolerant religious views instead of the invisible rabbit story, because i suspected the rabbit story would make you defensive and lessen the chance i had of ever hugging you? Probably. Were both equally truthful depictions of my thoughts on a certain topic? Yes.
Here's a more subtle example. Did i just go back four sentences, and change the word "holding" to "hugging"? Yes. Why? Because "holding" is just a little more intimate, and even though my naked revelations to you have perhaps dashed any chance i had of holding you...i still can't quite let go of that dream. So i changed holding to hugging, because it's more innocent and less likely to make you defensive.
Was "hugging" a dishonest choice? How can it be, when i do desire to hug you?
I realize, however, that the word "hugging" makes it imply that we've never hugged. Sigh. A flawed sentence not easily fixable. That's what happens when people use words to manipulate (which is virtually all the time).
So if you think your family operates free of lies or manipulation, you're perhaps underestimating how complex each of them are...and how deeply-ingrained lying is in this society. The average person commits dozens of lies each day, and hundreds of selectively-honest manipulations. And what of truths that are unspoken? Can you be so sure there isn't some hidden aspect of just one member of your family that might alter the way that person was perceived?
There's a part of me that hopes you will be made immortal, so that one day in another life you may realize that no one was ever truer for you than me.
love,
wrob

compatibility calculus

2011-11-19T16:00:00.000-08:00

Step right up, boys and girls, and do your very own...compatibility calculus!
You're a loser in the game of love? Of course you are. There are no winners. What, you didn't get the memo?
But perhaps it's time for a long, hard look in the mirror. We're all right fucked (or rather, the opposite)...and perhaps some of us are so far past fucked that all that remains is some kind of radical life-lobotomy.
Perhaps it's time to consider that other gender.
Perhaps it's time stop drinking (or start).
Perhaps it's time to research the general happiness quotient of eunuchs.
Perhaps it's time to consider both genders.
Perhaps it's time to find god. There's got to be some religion out there that has a healthy outlook on sexuality.
We'll wait while our researchers get that information...

They don't usually take this long...

Perhaps it's time to move to New Zealand, or some such place where the locals will find our accent exotic and sexy. Some place where they don't hate Americans. There've got to be a few countries like that.
We'll wait while our researchers get that information...

So...uh, seen any good movies lately?

Perhaps it's time to broaden our standards. Sex is in the mind, right? Sexagenarians have GOTTA be sexy, they've got sex right at the top of their name!
Perhaps it's time to consider other species.
But before we do anything extreme, let's all do our compatibility calculus! Maybe you're just in a dry spell (probably not...but maybe).
We'll start with me. I look like Brad Pitt (from the neck down). My elementary school principal personally called my Mom with the results of my IQ test...although in retrospect, how smart can i be to have never considered before now that she might have made that up? But hey, i'm in shape, smart...i must be crazy compatible! Let's do this!
MIND: 1% of women are too smart for me, and 81% are too dumb.
BODY: I can't physically keep up with 1% of women, and 73% are way below my league.
POLITICS: Very progressive feminist/humanist independent. Hm. It says here that if i never leave the blue states, i'll lose just 29% of women. Oops, that was for "progressive", not "very progressive". New number - 66% lost. That's fine, we're separating the wheat from the chaff...
RELIGION: Agnostic. Whoops...just lost 90%. But i think we can ignore that stat...there are probably more closet non-believers than homosexuals and Hansen-lovers combined.
SEX: Polyamorous-curious. Okay, we just lost 93%. Sigh...remind me again why i agreed to participate in this?
GROOMING: Clean and unfashionable, with an aversion to makeup/heels/hair product. I am in no danger of being kissed by...79% of females (an incredible windfall of good fortune, as they were wearing lipstick! Yyech!)
SELF-MEDICATION: I don't do any drug. Not Advil. Not Pabst. That will only cost me...67%.
HUMOR: My silliness seasoned by a dry, ironic wit? Right over the heads of 82% (Amazons and Asians alike).
WEALTH: Penniless by choice. 87% of the women have left the building.
SELF-ACTUALIZATION: More emotionally available than 99% of humanity.
Okay, let's let our super-computer tabulate all that...
Computing...final calculus...
Well, this is curious. It says here that statistically i have about the same chance of finding a compatible lover as i do of finding a female billionaire.
Well that's not so bad, is it?
Computer, how many female billionaires are there?
Computer?

What the...?

2011-11-15T19:15:00.000-08:00

Practical Joke - A playful trick employing some physical practice, in which the victim is placed in an embarrassing or disadvantageous position.

There are three things in this life which, if done with consummate skill, are far greater than any other experience you will ever know. Artistic achievement, sexual communion, and practical jokes. 99% of us lack the inspiration and technical proficiency required for creative genius. 99% of us also lack the emotional tools to love another human properly. Ergo, for the vast mass of humanity, the greatest moment of our lives will be the successful execution of a sublime practical joke.
The perfect practical joke...a seamless synchronization of victim, perpetrator(s), and inspiration.
Often the difference between greatness and genius is attention to detail. Jimmy Kimmel once assigned his parental viewers the task of pretending to have eaten all their children's Halloween candy while they slept, and film the results. You think the Weeping Wall is wet? The best entry was from a perverse parent who had the craftiness to leave nothing but a plastic jack-o-lantern full of empty wrappers.
The greatest filmed practical joke might be in reruns on AFV. Two preteen brothers had been allowed to stay up to watch a chainsaw slasher movie. They were so, um, moved by the experience that they slept in the same bed that night, with all the lights on. In the morning, their father crept into the room. He wore a hockey mask, and had a chainsaw. Mom stood in the hallway, filming. Dad stood a few feet away from his sleeping progeny, and let 'er rip. One of the children literally levitated backwards over the headboard, becoming wedged between window and bed, bringing down the venetian blinds in the process. The other, after possibly voiding his fluids, regained the power of speech and shouted, "What is WRONG with you???"
What indeed.
If that's wrong, i don't want to be right.
My own contributions to the world's greatest practical jokes are modest, although the day is still young. Taking every piece of furniture and accessory out of my brother Dave's bedroom and recreating the room on the back lawn, that was a nice day. There are two, though, that might merit mention in the halls of greatness. The victim of the first was that very same brother.
The scatologically squeamish may want to excuse themselves now.
We all had household chores to attend to, in our youth. My brother was in charge of the litter box. Every day after school, he did his, uh, duty. I always got home before he did. One day, inspiration struck. I ran to the litter box, dropped my trousers, and, uh, did my duty. I carefully covered the fecal foolery with the odor-absorbing sand, burying it deep.
I found a hiding place, and waited.
He got home, and went straight to his chore. Smothering my chortles, i soon heard him say, "What the...?" It's those blessed seconds between discovery and understanding, that are the holy land for the dedicated practical joker.
He was not amused. Not a bit. For years to come, he scowled any time i mentioned that day. I don't know what the record is for time lapsed before a victim acknowledges greatness, but it was fifteen years before he finally said, "Yeah...that was pretty goddamned funny".
But the greatest practical joke i ever perpetrated was a lightning strike among lightning strikes, the result of a confluence of events that confound the imagination. The thing that made it so one-in-a-million perfect?
I didn't actually do it.
For this kind of event to happen, there has to be a combination of primed territory and an act of randomness that beggars belief. The primed territory was my brother John. In this case, primed meant that he was fully aware of my prankful proclivities, and as a regular target, his guard was always somewhat up.
We were visiting the folks. Dad is a hunter, and we had earlier noticed that in the refrigerator, along with hunks of deer corpse, there was a huge container of deer blood. We didn't know what it was for, and as vegetarians, we probably didn't ask.
The elements gather...
One afternoon, we started preparing a meal. John is a griller, so he was on the driveway under the back deck, getting the grill going. I was relaxing on said deck. Hanging off the side of the deck is a hummingbird feeder. The food in said feeder is red sugar water.
Any guesses yet?
As i'm sitting there, i notice some movement with my peripheral vision. A couple seconds later, i hear a shout of revulsion.
Patched it together? Deer blood in the fridge, and a prankster about?
At precisely the moment John is doodling away, the feeder spontaneously comes apart, loosing all its wet, red contents directly onto the waiting brother below. He says time went into slow motion as the liquid poured over him, and that he experienced a few seconds of relative calm as a clear, deliberate thought passed through his mind - "Well. My brother is pouring deer blood on me." Then he shouts loudly enough to bring the whole house running. His rush of disgust and outrage at my "act"...nothing i could have planned would have come close. Years later, sitting at this computer, i have to wait for my laughter to stop before my fingers can continue typing.
So here's to your best practical joke ever...or just the one that will emerge from your warped mind tomorrow. And if you're not a practical joker...
All the better. You're just the kind of person we're looking for.

monmatpar

2011-11-14T17:07:00.001-08:00

Think of the best friend you ever had. Now imagine that for the rest of your life, you will cleave to that friend. Living together, eating together, sleeping together. You will forsake all other friendships, for the sake of this one. How many years would pass before you felt unendurably lonely and horrifically smothered?
That's all i got to say 'bout monogamous matrimony.
Think of the most likeable person you ever knew. Now imagine that you are responsible for their life for the next eighteen years. Responsible for their food, shelter, and every conceiveable need. You will be held accountable for every action they take. For two years, they will be bedridden and incapacitated, unable to handle the most basic bodily functions. Caring for them will dominate your days and nights. It will be many years before they are able to function on their own. You will get one helper in this undertaking, who will leave after 8.5 years, in the most painful parting of your life. This person you are responsible for may be nothing like the person i asked you to think of. This person may love the things you hate and find you the most loathsome human ever.
That's all i got to say 'bout monogamous parenthood.
That's all i got to say 'bout that.

dear almeria

2011-11-14T15:27:00.000-08:00

Dear Ameliara
Armelia
Almeria,
Forgive my fuzzy brain. The excuse i might offer is that on days i spend in that costume, the exhaustion and heat make for a fuzzy feeling...but it's probably just as accurate to say that being with you makes me a bit inebriated.
Do you want to know how much you affect me? Physically affect me? After we parted and i returned to my lentil soup, i almost couldn't eat. My mouth felt...i don't know the word, but "dry" is the closest. Holding you was such a profound experience, i almost literally couldn't eat.
There's a physiological reason, of course...holding you produced a spike in some chemical in my body, a chemical which dampened my hunger so i wouldn't be distracted from what i was doing with you. Clearly my body has an agenda.
I'm sure you still don't appreciate how much our hug last year touched me. At certain times in my life, i've been a touchstone for human contact and love. As the monkey, i've had uncountable thousands of hugs...and a significant number of them (with children and occasionally women) have gone beyond simple delight to a very heightened realm. Your hug was beyond any of those...it's the only time i've ever actually been jealous of the monkey. I achingly wanted it to be me whose hug was making you feel what you were feeling. It was so beautiful that even now i'm speechless. I wanted holding you to be my job in life. Not only was it the best monkey hug i ever had, it was nearly my best hug ever period. There's only been one in my life that was more special, and that one had the benefit of lasting twenty minutes (without twenty pounds of monkey costume). It humbles me to even think of being able to hold you as just me...in stillness, without the swirl of humanity only inches away.
And then today, for a few minutes in the center of a whirlwind, we held each other for real...my chest feels funny thinking about it. I felt myself getting weak from the beauty of it. Much longer, and i wouldn't have found the strength to let go. I want to hold you as time and space fade away. I want to discover a million ways to hold you. Then i want to find a million more.
Now that we've figured out that you're literally a drug to me, i hope we have fun with it. Laugh at being human, and all that. Of course humans are constantly driven by chemical reactions, in ways that we don't realize...steering us to like certain things and feel certain ways. But i honestly can't remember ever being so concretely, obviously aware that someone was a drug to me. Have you?
I can laugh at it though, and also be aware that something else is going on. A chemical reaction could explain what happened yesterday, but not last year. Last year, the connection i felt the moment you were in my arms was electric and instantaneous. Especially under that suit, there's no way it was chemical. It must have been what you were talking about...the energy connections between people. Our auras must have been in some sort of amazing synchronization.
Whatever else, know that i will be "twitching" (that is the street term, yes?) until i feel you again.
wrob

lithium eyes

2011-11-12T04:55:00.000-08:00

I carry a sunset in my pocket
Her name is Lithium Eyes
She makes me feel warm in a cold, cold world
Beautiful Lithium Eyes
She smiles and i'm lost to eternity
Her name is Lithium Eyes
My heart slows, my happiness flows
Beautiful Lithium Eyes

untoned

2011-11-09T05:14:00.000-08:00

My lover is unhappy that i called her "untoned". I'm not sure whether she's unhappy with me or unhappy with herself, or unhappy with..?
She's a beautiful woman. I want to cradle her spirit and hump her leg.
That said, i'm pretty sure she doesn't have to deal with the burden of coming up with witty or thoughtful responses to the question, "So...you work out?"
Yet isn't it arguable that my attitude puts her in an ideal situation? Wouldn't any sensible person be thrilled with being desired when they're in less than tip-top shape? Can't they then assume that they're being desired for who they are, not some shallow conquest? If they should subsequently fall into even less great shape, or have their looks altered by industrial accident, wouldn't they have some peace of mind about not being abandoned? Isn't the more common female complaint being loved only for their bodies?? There's no way to win with these blithering ovary-machines!
I'm kidding. If women are contradictory, it's because men have systematically assassinated their self-worth for ten thousand years.
The saying about men learning to love the woman they're attracted to and women learning to be attracted to the man they love...that's just a sexist, noxious relic of a time when women were property and men were encouraged to fuck as many as they could. In the world of truth, men need emotional connection as much as women, and women want eye candy just as much as men.
Is it possible that this is a case of her wanting it both ways? Is it possible she wants me to desire her for the person she is beneath the skin, yet also have a flaming hard-on from just a glimpse of that skin? There's a slippery slope in that, as the only constant in life is change, so any relationship based on visual desire is going to be severely stressed when we no longer look like we did last decade (to say nothing of the aforementioned industrial accidents).
It's hard to imagine this scenario in reverse, of course. Try to picture some man in less than great shape being in ANY way unhappy if an athletic woman offers to get naked for him.
So again, i gotta say...isn't she in the catbird seat here, yet finding a way to be unhappy about it?? Furthering her sweet deal, i myself am in great shape. The kind that gets comments from strangers and gets her engines revving a bit (if you know what i mean, and i think you do). If my love chose to be in better shape, i wouldn't offer a peep of complaint, but...my desire for her isn't about that. Is this just a symptom of body dysmorphic disorder? Sarah Michelle Gellar recently opined that no woman alive isn't thus damaged. Or...is this all part of the unnatural desire to be all things to one person? Or just ego-driven nonsense? Has this competition-based society created a world of people who all secretly yearn to be the most beautiful, intelligent creature that ever breathed?
Let's get this comment box buzzing. At the risk of birfurcation, i'll pose the question of the day. Do you want to be loved for your looks, or for...you?

found

2011-11-08T17:24:00.000-08:00

Afraid of being hurt
She ran
Afraid of hurting him
She ran
Afraid of being loved
She ran
Afraid of being found
She ran

The Revenge of Khan

2011-11-08T05:39:00.000-08:00

It's interesting to ponder whether the STAR TREK franchise would have ended had KHAN not been a monster, on all levels. Certainly the TREK movies would have ended, and NEXT GENERATION wouldn't have been born, at least not in the incarnation we know. Would the swelling of TREK fandom have slowly faded, or would the franchise have been given another shot (on big screen or small) sometime in the 90s, perhaps?
The fact that KHAN saved the franchise cannot be doubted. Nimoy only agreed to do the film on the condition that it be the last one (a fantastic death scene didn't hurt, either). It was a curious enterprise from the start. Not many people realize that after the over-budget, relatively uninspiring STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE, Gene Roddenberry was in essence fired by the studio. He was given a consultant position. The producer's reigns were handed to Harve Bennett, a man whose importance to the franchise has never been properly celebrated. Several decades of producing TV movies and shows prepared him for KHAN. The role of producer is one that is generally dismissed and misunderstood by the public. Many have minimal creative input, but all of them have complete control once the shooting stops (a fact that has caused no small number of outraged directors to have their name removed from the finished product). Harve was hands-on all the way, including the writing (a dual role he would continue to fill through STAR TREK V). It was Harve and Nimoy who set up Spock's resurrection, a choice that director Nicholas Meyer (THE DAY AFTER) had no part of, and would have resisted.
And Mr. Meyer? So many top-tier directors were banging down Paramount's door to do this one (ahem), that the position was given to a man with one directing credit (Meyer had also written the novel THE SEVEN PER-CENT SOLUTION). But it would be hard to overstate how much this dedicated storyteller meant to the most crucial and compelling TREK movie. He would also return to helm the excellent UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. I'll quibble a bit over a couple of his choices (would i be a trekkie if i didn't?)...his belief that STAR TREK was about gunboat diplomacy was wrong on any number of levels. He made KHAN more militaristic, an effect that unfortunately rippled. And his desire to have a no-smoking sign on the bridge was fortunately shot down by Roddenberry. But in the big picture, Meyer took a pittance of a budget and turned in a blazingly sharp movie that set the TREK film standard. He steered both Montalban and Shatner past bad acting choices. The budget went from 43 million for TMP, to 11 million for KHAN...which went on to gross 97 million. It remains the smallest TREK film budget, and the greatest success.
Curiously, the original title was changed so as to not copy a space fantasy that was being filmed at the same time, REVENGE OF THE JEDI.
Khaaaaaaaaannn!!!

dear N 2

2011-11-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

Dear N,
One thing this is not going to turn into is some e-mail romance-in-waiting. For selfless reasons, i did a couple of those in recent years, and they absolutely shattered me, one tiny wound at a time, because all i've needed for much longer than i care to remember is someone to hold. I've been deprived of that healing for so long, i'm literally starting to go insane. Just about everyone you'll ever meet is similarly a bit insane.
One of the fundamental things about this world is that basically, no one gets what they deserve. Good things happen to bad people, bad things happen to good people, and no one ever gets the love they need. There may be times in your life when a person or people choose to love you. If that happens, N, i promise...IT WASN'T BECAUSE YOU EARNED IT. We all do what we do for reasons that are our own, and if someone else benefits, it's mostly dumb luck. The opposite is most certainly true...the times in our life when we are alone, missing the loving we need, it's NOT because we deserved it. It's just how this broken world works.
So if you question why i want to love you, there will be a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with you. That's going to be the case any time someone offers to love you. Most people are too scared or dumb to understand that.
In my life right now, it's a challenge to not lie to someone (even just a little) to chase them into my arms. For whatever reason that neither of us will ever fully understand, N, i feel HAPPY when i'm holding you. A part of me wishes i could feel that with just anyone. I want to love the hell out of you, you sweet fool. If that terrifies you, then run away. But if you do that, it may haunt you. In the million and three lonely moments that are likely ahead of you, you may someday want to slit your wrists for your cowardliness at this moment.
I want to hold you and listen to you...learn about every step you've taken in your life, understand the child you were, understand why you cry and laugh when you do...is it even vaguely possible that that's not something you need?
There's a part of me that's rooting for you to self-destruct yourself away from me. The imbalance in what we're each ready for is pretty staggering. But i'm willing to carry you for a while, while you catch up. It may happen sooner than you think.
And even if the romance part of our love proves too imbalanced to work, all i ask is that we try to not fall prey to the most insidious dysfunction of this dysfunctional world, the tendency for lovers whose time has ended to throw their entire relationship away. Of all the people we will ever know, the ones who will know us most deeply are our lovers...and those are the people we lose forever, once hormones and societal expectations have had their way. You already tried to throw us away once. All i ask is that you never try to do that again. It is the bonds of friendship, not romance, which are most true.
At times, your fears paralyze you. There are few people i've ever met who have confronted and hounded their fears as much as i. It's the most crippling, destructive force in the world. However much you are able to overcome your fears, just so much will you find your own healing. If you are able to lie nakedly with me ten more times, your ability to love yourself will always be just a little better. If you are able to lie nakedly with me 100 more times, your ability to love another human may begin to stand out from those around you. If you are able to lie nakedly with me 1000 more times, you might be on your way to being what you were born to be...one of the most beautiful people any of us will ever know.
All of these words stupidly complicate a very simple idea. I want to hold you, then hold you some more, and when it's all over, come back and hold you again.
love,
wrob

dear parents

2011-11-05T20:31:00.001-07:00

Dear parents,
When i was a newborn, you allowed that my genitals be mutilated. Your society called it circumcision. My subconscious trauma from that act can never be fully tracked or measured (although a good place to start is my ability to trust). And my capacity for sexual pleasure will always be only a part of what it should have been. The fact that you were morons who didn't know any better excuses you, to some degree. But only some. Some small measure of penance can be had, if you never again let any opportunity go by to prevent genital mutilation happening to any child, boy or girl, ever again.
love,
wrob

Dear N

2011-11-03T05:37:00.001-07:00

N,
It took me immersing myself in memories of you, and the words of your spirit you shared, to have a moment of clarity about what this moment of living means.
You made it so hard for me to see what an exceptional, beautiful human you are. You filled the air with fears, and i couldn't help but be swept up in them.
No more.
I refuse to be afraid of you.
I accept that i can offer you a kind of loving perhaps not one person in a million can...and that you need loving so bad you're dying.
I refuse to be afraid of you loving me too little, or loving me too much.
I refuse to be afraid of being hurt.
You once chided me, saying how dare i try to climb your bullet-proof walls.
I dare.
Keep me out, i dare you.
The next time i am inside you, you will know what a centered human feels like.
No longer will i hold any part of me back. If you try to slip a lipstick kiss onto my lips, i will say "yuck". I may even bust your chops about that hair, and whether you're afraid of your own beauty.
The next time my tongue glides into your cunt, you will reach out and touch fearlessness. Our last night together, my penis was happier with you than on our first. Is that something to walk away from?
I'm not your dream man, and you're not my dream woman. And that's not the point. A lot of those dreams are idiotic, and this is about something much more important than romance.
Someday you will laugh, and ask me why i wouldn't let you throw me away.
I wonder what i will say...
You can, of course, run away.
I'm not afraid of that either.
love,
wrob

N

2011-11-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

She offered honesty without openness.
Befitting a happy fool, i accepted.
There is a profound hesitation in trying to project any understanding of N. Knowing that so much of her was hidden behind walls, i'm sure that any explanation of mine will be feeble at best.
Or not.
We met online. She'd posted an ad looking for two men. There was a bit of ambivalence as to whether she wanted two men in her life, or two men in her bed. I didn't think i was necessarily a good candidate for the latter (only imagineable under personality circumstances so rare as to make a lightning strike seem commonplace), but was open to the former (being all about female empowerment, and opposed to the ridiculousness of monogamy). How long in human history have men had far easier access to multiple partners, despite the fact that females generally outperform them by a country mile?
It turns out N was looking for two males in her bed...but a conversation had begun. For myself, curiosity was based on the fact that any woman who wanted two men might also be more likely to understand a wildflower living outside the parameters assigned him at birth.
The fact that she was African was also compelling. While this isn't necessarily anything to be proud of in any other than a general sense, the fact remained that i had never had a fully consummated sexual relationship with a woman of her bloodlines. My spirit is a human rainbow (and unlike Mr. Mayer, i knew my cock was too).
She had been born in Kenya. At sixteen, she moved to England and boarding school. At eighteen, she set out for America and college. One year ago, she graduated with a master's in music business. In a depressed economy, she had been searching the past year for a job in her field, while living alone in Brooklyn. In our letters, it was sometimes easy to forget that she was intelligent...she was so good at hiding her spirit, her smarts often disappeared too.
In a number of surface ways, she wasn't my type. She straightened her hair, wore makeup, believed in monogamy and marriage...
And i wasn't the most likely threesome candidate.
But bit by bit, she was becoming fascinated by me. In her words...
Once we embarked on our email conversations and I finally delved into your blog I was, initially, consumed by apprehension. Apprehension towards allowing myself to be in the presence of, or in any way open to, someone who is so real. And naked. And then content of our emails grew in depth and sparks, while the interludes between them diminished. It was all deliciously scary. Then we met, and my fears were completely confirmed. Not at all in a negative way towards you.
The fact that early on she declared, sans any inquiry from me, that she had no hangups whatsoever about the prospect of being written about by me, endeared her to me more than i can say. She made fun of the silent "w" i had added to my name, but embraced it completely. She was a long way from my kind of openness, but if there were voices telling me to hold back, they couldn't hold a candle to my loneliness and sexual rawness.
The night we met, we walked around the Village for a couple hours, then had dinner in a lovely vegetarian restaurant. By the end of the meal, i wanted to reach across the table to touch her hands. I sensed that she understood that, but chose to ignore it. We walked some more after dinner, and when we got close to our parting point, she hesitantly asked whether i had been disappointed by her. I told her i found her enchanting. I finally knew that she was attracted to me as well. Still, i thought she might come up with any number of reasons to walk away forever. When i asked for a goodbye hug, she came into my arms with surprising gentleness.
And suddenly kissed me.
Did not expect that.
I felt a rush of blood to my penis. We soon stumbled across the street holding hands, as she realized we'd been at the wrong station entrance. When we got underground, she almost ran to the waiting train. As it pulled away, i stood on the other side of the gates, leaning against the bars. I stood there for minutes, wrapped in the beauty of life.
I slowly walked away, not knowing whether i'd ever see her again. At home, my slightly euphoric buzz took me into slumber's arms.
I awoke with a start, around 2AM. My phone was ringing.
It was N. She apologized for calling, and almost hung up before i reassured her that she was allowed to call me any time. I asked whether she'd gotten the sweet e-mail i'd written when i got home. She hadn't, so i stumbled to my computer. I was naked and cold, and didn't care. I read to her, and she told me how she couldn't stop thinking of me. She told me she wanted so much to feel me against her. I told her that i was hers. I began shaking all over from the center of my chest, from the cold and the emotion. She asked whether i was naked, and when i said yes...the urgency in her voice became a palpable thing. I was feeling lightheaded urgency myself, and finally said we needed to either get together, or hang up and take care of ourselves. She tried one last effort at being coy, then stopped.
Suddenly i was on my bike, heading for Brooklyn in the middle of the night.
It was a surreal ride. A surreal time of night. She kept calling every few minutes. On the far side of the Manhattan Bridge, i came face to face with a flat tire. My own. I knelt under a lone street light, patching away. Back on the road, i arrived at her apartment quickly.
In her building's foyer, we hugged, the blood once again flowing to my loins. We stumbled upstairs. I told her i wanted to shower. She started to undress me, but gave up on my belt. I came out of the shower, and she never found the towel she'd offered me, as we were naked and wrapped in each other in moments. She took me in her with an immediacy that took little heed of foreplay. We spent the rest of the night in whispered words and sexual loving. I told her i'd always moved slowly when it came to sex, but that i couldn't say no to her on that night. This was as much about my loneliness and rawness, and need to reclaim my identity as a sexual being, as anything. Neither of us made any mention of safe sex. We just carnally took one another. Her own urgency ultimately did make a lie of my inability to say no, when she told me to come inside her. I found the strength (or fear) to resist...though in the weeks that followed, i fantasized about being in that moment and holding nothing back.
I amusedly noticed that we might not be entirely compatible sexually. She wanted hard fucking, while i was doing my best to slow it down and make it last. She also seemed to be into pain...several times she bit my lip until it hurt, making me go "Ow".
But mostly it was very beautiful. Her lips were amazing...i'd never kissed any so full and soft.
We managed, however, to not see each other again for nearly a week. I wanted sooner, and amusedly wondered whether it was one of the "relationship rules" that if you go a week without seeing each other after your first sex, abandon all hope immediately. She was lapsing into e-mail and phone silences as well. She had given me warning...
See from a young age I’ve built and worn, at times proudly but at all times seemingly necessarily, a bullet-proof armor. When this armor has grown weak my memory recalls hurt, rejection, judgment and pain...I’m guarded. I’m extremely private, and at times I have a wonderful ability to easily shut out the world. For all, various, and no reasons. That’s simply a layer of me, but a layer that nevertheless exists. Thus far I’ve done a pretty good job at hiding that layer, or rather overlapping it with the more favorable ones that most seem to agree with. Albeit, those who I allow to really, truly get close to me will eventually uncover it, and the darker layers beneath. And out of those who have uncovered my true layers, I can name less than I care to admit who have simply accepted not judged or shunned.
Our second night together was much like our first. We didn't plan it well, and were only able to have a few hours. But we made love as urgently as on our first night, again following a towelless shower of mine. She whispered of how amazing it felt having me inside her, something she hadn't felt with any lover in a long time, and how she adored my body, all smoothness and muscle. Her untoned physique wasn't my ideal...but i think we can and should be able to love everyone, even though this world of broken, needy people makes that virtually impossible. The most singular moment of the night was when she again asked me to ejaculate. I asked her where. She told me to pull out and come on her. It was far more than either of us expected. I shot all over her, and kept on coming and coming. Rainbows. Afterward, she whispered that she had never experienced that. Looking back, i wish i had crushed her to me as the ejaculation ended, face to face, reinforcing the "us" aspect of the moment. But i was already walking on eggshells a bit, realizing that it was an almost impossible line i had to walk, to not make her run away. Loving her too much was as dangerous as not loving her enough. There were plenty of outcomes i was already afraid of, not least of which was her falling for me in a Disney way. So i was off-balance, a part of me holding back.
She told me how beautiful my penis was, and we got into a discussion about infant genital mutilation, one that carried on for days and even became a point of contention, with her arguing that male mutilation was of an entirely different category than female, and me arguing that the eyes of the future will make no distinction between the two when humanity looks back on this epoch of barbarism.
There were more silences from her before we were together again. She wrote of being full of fear and hesitation. Fear of being hurt, or not being able to offer me what i deserve. She wrote:
This all makes me sound so self-absorbed, so selfishly closed in my limited, and probably very distorted perspective. Which I hate to admit, but currently am. I'm in survival mode and certain things need to turn around before I will feel out of the woods.
I did my best to manifest patience and equanimity, but in the face of silence it's so hard to not eventually think of worst-case scenarios. She been judged and shunned? What could be so ominous? Drug-dealing? Prostitution? An internship with Karl Rove? Had i perhaps been rawly impulsive with one who could give me an std? While i had early on told her that i hadn't had a lover for over a year, we'd never broached the question of her own status. When i proposed monogamy, she was disappointed that it was for safe sex reasons, not Cinderella reasons. After acknowledging that she currently had one condoms-only lover who seemed to prompt only shame in her, she embraced the idea of our monogamy. This was in e-mails, and it felt a little bizarre to not have that conversation in person. She was also doing one of the few behaviors that actually drives me nutty, ignoring direct questions. I don't mind a question unanswered, as long as the person acknowledges what they're (not) doing. But she was silently ignoring a number of questions, virtually none of them profound or threatening.
She also informed me she had gone on the pill. I was delighted, though a part of me still feared her developing a huge case of ever-after, forsake-all-others desire for me.
Our third night was our first at my place. At the station, she greeted me with a big, lipsticky kiss. I almost shouted "Yuck!" She wore a cap like my grandfather wore, to protect her straightened hair from the rain. We got takeout and watched a move, STILL CRAZY. We both loved Bill Nighy. When we ended up in bed and started gently kissing, she told me she was having her period. I was happy to have a night of platonic cuddling, as the fact that sooner or later we'd have to spend time together without having sex, had been on my mind. It evolved into one slow, long caressing embrace. An urgency stirred in her, one tiny eternal kiss at a time. She could no longer endure it, and asked for me inside her. She was very self-conscious about getting my sheets bloody, though. I assured her that her beauty was amazing, and that i was hers to do with whatever she wanted. She climbed onto me, and for the first time in my life, i was inside a menstruating woman. It felt the tiniest bit strange, but i was quickly swept up in the force of her desire. I discovered that being under her was my favorite position, with her so-soft breasts near my face, or just lying back. Something about that night's chemistry gave me a very stiff erection, yet one that allowed her to ride vigorously. She just rode and rode, lost in the moment. It was so profound that it actually took me out of the moment, something that probably couldn't happen if our relationship had been in better balance. But eventually, i just needed to clap or laugh at a woman enjoying sexuality (and me) so utterly. I did so, and it may have taken her out of the moment as well. But that was a barely noticeable pause in the proceedings. A few hours of sleep became morning caressess, and again she couldn't resist a beautiful erection.
And yes, for those of you who didn't catch Martha Stewart's blog today, Shout! is an amazing product fully capable of handling menstrual sex sheets.
So ended our last night. As she dressed to go, i dressed to break concrete. She asked me to walk her to the station one block away. I was ready to work, and had thought she could find her way alone. But when we said goodbye at the station, she gave me long, loving kisses, and it was a beautiful moment, made moreso by the awareness of the world's eyes on us...two people of different skins, just loving. I think i was more proud of her in that moment than any other.
I went off on a weekend business trip, ready to address our relationship concerns when i returned. I was going to suggest that we remove all expectations, and just enjoy each other.
When i got back, however, she said in a brief e-mail that some part of her was rejecting me. I wrote back, but she had gone down the rabbit hole. Two weeks of silence later, i realize that we got what we deserved, as we both fell victim to fear. In the face of her overpowering ones, i was unable to keep my own at bay. I've resisted writing anything about her, as i resist writing about any romance until it seems irrevocably over. Despite my objective awareness that i'm a million times better off without her, a part of me doesn't want to let go. Despite my rejection of monogamy, i bond strongly with my lovers. After Ann, it took six months before i could look at a personal ad again. I don't imagine it will take nearly that long this time, but right now the thought of opening any ad makes my spirit shrivel. I'm finally willing to write about her partly because of the knowledge that she might read this...and know that i want to hold her, and love her.
I love her as i would love any lost child. Am i not a lost child myself? Is there a single one of us who is not?

paradise pool

2011-10-25T05:21:00.000-07:00

The greatest advice you'll never take to heart?
Keep your sex and your romance miles apart

Simple yet hard, though i'll now complicate
For sex with friendship is its truest state

If you process that, you're a wise, wise fool
Live it and you'll splash in the paradise pool

Star Trek's flaws

2011-10-24T14:40:00.000-07:00

The STAR TREK vision. A future without war, racism, sexism, religion, or greed. For all its forward-thinking, it has two blind spots (three, counting the chauvinist objectification of women, but they cleaned that one up fairly well by NEXT GEN).
Two or three blind spots is hardly a damning critique. That there are so few is rather stunning, as every creation is inescapably a product of its time, and the America that spawned Gene Roddenberry was (and is) a place of profound barbarism and staggering ignorance. It's possible that there are more than these, as my eyes may have their own blinders.
The first? Isolation. It is inconceiveable that after another few centuries of the awakening of the human spirit, the lot of the average person could be such a howling wilderness of isolation. The average TREK character is as spiritually and physically alone as are you and i and everyone you know. We live in a world where people are taught to look out for themselves, for ultimately no one else will. We live in a world where, once we leave behind the momentary paradise of infancy, we quickly learn that intimate human touch comes only in one context - sex. And sex always comes with a staggering price. Human society three centuries hence will never resemble us in that regard.
Who could be more isolated, in the name of duty and propriety, than our beloved starship captains? Or Worf and Odo, living in two worlds, at home in neither? Spock, Data, and the doctor take isolation to an even more pronounced realm...indeed, this is no small part of the reason why these three characters were the most resonant on their shows...their isolation, their sense of literal alienness, is something that touches us in ways we can only begin to enunciate. And the rest of the crews...they have intimacy on occasion, but only in the context we ourselves receive it - sex. A tiny allowance might be made for the fact that these are servicepeople, and as such need to maintain a level of professional distance blah blah blah...but really, that protest holds no water. It is simply inconceivable that with another few centuries of understanding how critical touch is to human well-being, that we might continue to condemn ourselves to the eternal neurosis of the touch-deprived.
Where is the alien race whose biggest personality trait is hugging? Hugging when happy, hugging when sad, hugging when nervous, hugging when bored...you get the idea. So much hugging, so liberally given, would be unforgettable. The talaxians, for example. Is it faintly possible that one of the least successful TREK characters could have been saved by making the talaxians a race of huggers? Probably not...but you get the idea.
The second blind spot in the TREK vision is of course (everybody say it together now) m-o-n-o-g-a-m-y! It's hysterical to think that in three century's time (or even three decades...), humans might still be so unevolved as to think that monogamy is anything other than a maudlin, horrific, dehumanizing relic of a time when half of the human race was owned by the other half. Jealousy, possessiveness...a Jedi needs not these things (oops, sorry).
Not that there aren't occasional glimmers of non-monogamous sanity in the Trekiverse. By the time ENTERPRISE came around, they even devoted an entire species to polyamory.
So let's celebrate these glimmers, kiddies. Let's enjoy a TREK marathon devoted to the idea that loving more than one person makes you more of a human, not less.
MONOGAMY TREKSLAP-A-THON
-Wolf in the Fold TOS
-a collage of Riker/Kamala and Picard/Kamala scenes from "The Perfect Mate" TNG
-a collage of Okona scenes from "The Outrageous Okona" TNG
-a collage of Riker/Troi and Riker/Ro scenes from "Conundrum" TNG
-Stigma ENT
TREK's flaws.
What? You were expecting "On Halloween, Neelix, Lwaxana, and Alexander in ferengi costumes, walk into a kazon bar..."?

Matthew

2011-10-19T16:08:00.000-07:00

1
There are two points about the events unfolding here. The idea put forth is that the Lord brings into being a physical extension of Its holy spirit, in the form of a human. This god-person lives, grows, and feels as other humans do (A god we created in our image supposedly created us in Its image...and then created another god, in OUR image? If this all feels a bit incestuous and pedestrian and masturbatory, you're not alone.). My first point is that it seems a violation of the Lord's consistency, to ordain that a god-person appear only at one particular place and time in history. Are messiah stories just a shabby way to subvert the notion of omnipresence? How can god be "more" or "less" present? And it just seems unjust that certain people be given access to this god-person, while others are not. My second point is that having this god-person come as a man reinforces the fallacious notion of male superiority. To this day, sexist ideas are so embedded in most of humanity that the "naturalness" of a male messiah (or indeed of God ITSELF being male) is something that many people, of both sexes, never think to question. Of course, if the god-person had to come as one human, It had to be one sex or the other. But how telling is it that the Bible, a book penned by men, would have a male messiah? How obvious? How tawdry. Would Christianity have achieved the following it has, had Jesus come as a woman? Perhaps the Lord was merely being pragmatic, in creating Jesus in the gender that would be most readily respected, but again, it does not seem reasonable that the Lord could pander to a system of repression and subjugation.
12:1-8
These words, as with many of Jesus' words, contain nothing which, in and of themselves, proclaim unreasonableness. Bear in mind however, that these words directly contradict commands from the mouth of God, from the Old Testament. If Jesus and God are one, as Matthew attests, it is inconceivable that they could contradict one another.
21:19
Jesus' anger or irritation with the tree, even to make a point, seems unjust. And illogical, too, unless trees possess spirituality like that of humans. Which is fine with me, but not really in line with the Bible thus far.

Speed-the-Plow

2011-10-19T16:05:00.000-07:00

THEATER 55
-winter 2001
At the Orpheus, i returned to Mamet, having found a three-actor piece that was just right for Amanda, Derek, and i. It was about Hollywood soullessness, a story of two mercenary junior producers who get a shot at the big time. One of them is seduced by a temp secretary (whom he thinks he is seducing) into producing an arty movie of no commercial value. The second producer reacts as he must, and the secretary is shown to the street. Brilliant, rapid-fire dialogue. Shane stage-managed, and Donna McDonald came onboard as assistant director. Mamet veterans all, we threw ourselves into it. Rehearsals were a delight. I played Bobby Gould, who is seduced by Amanda's character. I grew a goatee and mustache, and slicked my hair. As Charlie Fox, Derek was slick-tongued, soulless perfection. He bloodied my face (hidden capsules), and threatened to kill Amanda. The "big break" Bobby and Charlie are celebrating is the agreement of a famous star to be in one of their projects. Derek's unscripted Keanu Reeves impression was beautiful. Amanda is the "plow", the agent of change. The script that she is pushing is so esoteric (THE BRIDGE: OR, RADIATION AND THE HALF-LIFE OF SOCIETY - A STUDY OF DECAY), that it took Amanda a while to realize how actually not ridiculous it is. For the first time, we expanded into a new venue. I had made some connections in downtown Ft. Myers, which had a younger crowd, and we agreed to put on one show a week at a bar called Gotham Hall. I was especially happy with the show posters, which featured a vintage photo of a boy and girl kissing. Picking the show music was also becoming one of my favorite parts of the process. An Ethel Merman recording of "No Business Like Show Business", Tracy Chapman's "New Beginning", plus "King of Hollywood" by the Eagles…also Billy Joel's "Big Shot", which i thought was too lite, but the others pushed for it. The county's biggest reviewer came on opening night, when the show was still a night or two away from peaking. The review was uneven (largely due to me, i might add). The subsequent beach review was much more praising. It's a tough show to perform, and some physical obstacles didn't help. In a wrestling accident a few weeks before we opened, i tore my shoulder so profoundly that i couldn't lift my arm at all opening week. Another week, i lost my voice, requiring us to cancel two performances. The shows at Gotham were nice, but we had to cancel one due to a lack of crowd. It was normally my policy to cancel if there were no reservations by show afternoon, but i didn't do so that day, because i wanted to impress upon our new hosts that we would deliver what we promised. That didn't sit well with Derek, who was upset he had come out for nothing. Derek was also frustrated that my command of the lines wasn't 100% opening week. This saddened me, as i thought the world of him. On the occasions we did perform without undue obstacles, we had a wonderful time, and so did the audience. We never had large crowds. I was game to do another show in Gotham, but they took a pass (the owner never even came out to see us).

gadget quiz!

2011-10-17T13:46:00.000-07:00

Take this quiz, to have your personality revealed! If you could have one of the following, which would you choose?
1- Batman's utility belt
2 - a ring of invisibility
3 - a phaser
4 - Wonder Woman's lasso
5 - a jetpack
6 - a light saber
7 - an orgazmorator
8 - the belt-box Godzilla-summoning button

1 - You have a proactive personality, and a misplaced faith in technology. When the shit hits the fan, you'll accidentally spray yourself with shark repellent.
2 - You have a persecution complex...or as i like to call it, a good grasp on the state of the world.
3 - You are a human of lofty, non-violent ideals. Or a rapist. Could go either way.
4 - You are a human of lofty, truth-seeking ideals. Or that rapist thing.
5 - You are the most sensible person you know. We applaud your just-a-tiny-bit adventurous spirit. Have fun, trooper!
6 - Your grasp on reality is tenuous. Fortunately, you'll be accidentally removing yourself from the human gene pool within twenty-four hours.
7 - You're the only person in the world who hasn't lost their faith in humanity. May the fates smile on your sacred quest.
8 - You...are a party beast. You are the pied piper of gonzo awesomeness. The fact that no one will ever leave unattended children in your care, is a small price to pay.

not-ends 17

2011-10-13T06:18:00.000-07:00

Most celebrities became so through money, connections, or some form of prostitution. I'm just saying, it's not the best place to look for authenticity or integrity.

On a darkened street, i passed two lesbians leaning against a tree in an embrace. One of them let out a ripping belch. Somewhere in that scenario, and don't ask me where, there's hope for humanity.

It takes courage to succeed. It takes courage far greater to redefine success.

Taking responsibility for one's actions isn't nearly so tricky as taking responsibility for one's reactions.

Does Wonder Woman's invisible jet have a bathroom compartment?

The fear of intimacy is a very sensible condition.

How do you tell someone they're being controlling, without being controlling?

I don't believe in monogamy, which allows me to be a thousand times more faithful than those who do.

Utopians haven't been dreaming of the future, they've been dreaming of the past.

99% of the advice in the world is self-serving, so in personal interactions i've taught myself to keep my fool's mouth shut. This doesn't eliminate me as an advice-giver, but generally limits it to only the following: KEEP YOUR FOOL MOUTH SHUT.

Last weekend, i finished watching every episode of every STAR TREK series ever made, and also got laid for the first time in a year. So many punchlines, so little time...

Trekathon!

2011-10-12T14:54:00.000-07:00

I recently finished a project that took over two years...watching every episode of every series of STAR TREK. Don't you wish your boyfriend was hot like me? The individual fruits of this journey are on the appropriate tabs to your right. And here...one special, big ol' swirled fruit. Comparitive results, and a cornucopia of cross-TREK marathons.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE
1) STAR TREK (3.0)
2) ENTERPRISE (3.0)
3) VOYAGER (2.9)
4) NEXT GENERATION (2.8)
5) DEEP SPACE NINE (2.6)
GREATEST SEASONS (episode average)
1) TOS, season 1 (3.2)
2) TOS, season 2 (3.0)
3) TNG, season 3 (3.0)
4) TNG, season 5 (3.0)
5) VOY, season 4 (3.0)
6) VOY, season 5 (3.0)
7) ENT, season 1 (3.0)
8) ENT, season 3 (3.0)
WORST SEASONS (episode average)
1) TNG, season 7 (2.5)
2) DS9, season 1 (2.5)
3) TNG, season 1 (2.6)
4) DS9, seasons 2,3,5 (2.6)
5) VOY, season 1 (2.6)
ONE-STAR EPISODES
1) ENTERPRISE (0)
2) DEEP SPACE NINE (2)
3) VOYAGER (2)
4) STAR TREK (3)
5) NEXT GENERATION (4)
DOC-A-THON
-A Night in Sickbay ENT
-Friday's Child TOS
-The High Ground TNG
-The Quickening DS9
-Latent Image VOY
MST3K-A-THON
-Arena TOS
-Charlie X TOS
-The Lights of Zetar TOS (Spanish speakers only)
-Shades of Grey TNG
-Rascals TNG
ROMULAN-A-THON
-Minefield ENT
-Balance of Terror TOS
-The Enterprise Incident TOS
-the Tebok scene from "The Neutral Zone" TNG
-NEMESIS
HOLODECK-A-THON
-The Joker TAS
-The Big Goodbye TNG
-Elementary, Dear Data TNG
-the holodeck scene from FIRST CONTACT
-Our Man Bashir DS9
-Real Life VOY
KLINGOTHON
-Judgment ENT
-Day of the Dove TOS
-The Time Trap TAS
-THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY
-Heart of Glory TNG
-Rightful Heir TNG
-Blood Oath DS9
-Apocalypse Rising DS9
-Tacking into the Wind DS9
ANDROID/LITIGATED-LIFE-A-THON
-What Are Little Girls Made of? TOS
-Court Martial TOS
-The Measure of a Man TNG
-Author, Author VOY
DOUBLEMINT-A-THON
-The Enemy Within TOS
-Allegiance TNG
-Deadlock VOY
VULCATHON
-The Forge ENT
-Amok Time TOS
-Yesteryear TAS
-The Savage Curtain TOS
-the Vulcan scene from TMP
-Innocence VOY
BORG-A-THON
-Q Who TNG
-The Best of Both Worlds TNG
-I, Borg TNG
-Scorpion VOY
-FIRST CONTACT
-Regeneration ENT
-Drone VOY
-Endgame VOY
ESTROGEN-A-THON
-The scene where Number 1 takes command in "The Cage" TOS
-The Lorelei Signal TAS
-Angel One TNG
-Year of Hell VOY
NAZI-FETISH-A-THON
-Patterns of Force TOS
-The Killing Game VOY
-Stormfront ENT
CROSSOVER-A-THON
-the McCoy/Data scene from "Encounter at Farpoint" TNG
-the Spock/Data scene from "Unification" TNG
-Relics TNG
-the first Picard/Sisko scene from "Emissary" DS9
-Flashback VOY
-the Geordi scene from "Timeless" VOY
-These Are The Voyages... ENT
MIRROTHON
-The Tholian Web TOS
-Mirror, Mirror TOS
-In a Mirror, Darkly ENT

Star Trek

2011-10-12T05:45:00.001-07:00

STAR TREK
1966-1969
I was born midway through the original run, so my first memories of the show were from mid-70's re-runs. Which makes me part of the audience that "created" syndication as a television phenomenon. I was too young to be aware of the legions of adults who were going where no fans had gone before, but i was a wide-eyed happy kid with my 8-inch figures, Kirk/Spock poster, and plastic models of a phaser, communicator, and tricorder i assembled myself. Though i've never ordered plomeek soup in klingon, been a convention-goer (with the exception of one glorious Secaucas day in 2006...scroll down for evidence), or belonged to a fan-created "crew", you'd be hard-pressed to find someone more devoted. Scotty could give you warp 8 (maybe a wee bit more)...so why were there about twenty-nine episodes in which the ship went faster without blowing up or shaking apart? I think that damned ship hit warp 36 once.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE: 3.0
BY SEASON:
1) 3.2
2) 3.0
3) 2.8
FOUR-STAR EPISODES (season)
-The Cage (1)
-Where No Man Has Gone Before (1)
-Menagerie (1)
-Balance of Terror (1)
-Space Seed (1)
-The Devil in the Dark (1)
-The City on the Edge of Forever (1)
-Amok Time (2)
-Mirror, Mirror (2)
-The Doomsday Machine (2)
-The Trouble with Tribbles (2)
-The Gamesters of Triskellion (2)
-By Any Other Name (2)
-The Enterprise Incident (3)
-Spectre of the Gun (3)
-Let That Be Your Last Battlefield (3)
-The Savage Curtain (3)
-All Our Yesterdays (3)
THE RED-SHIRTS-DROPPING-LIKE-FLIES AWARD: "The Apple"
THE KIRK-WILL-KICK-YOUR-ASS AWARD: "A Taste of Armageddon"
PERFORMANCES (# of episodes)
-Leonard Nimoy (Spock, 80) ****
The fact that i have one rounded ear and one pointed made my differentness as a child seem...logical. I didn't quite literally believe that i was half-vulcan, but it was a thought that made me smile.
SPOCK-A-THON
-The Galileo Seven
-This Side of Paradise
-Journey to Babel
-The Enterprise Incident
-The Way to Eden
-All Our Yesterdays
-the death scene from THE WRATH OF KHAN
-the Sarek scene from THE VOYAGE HOME
-Unification TNG
-William Shatner (Kirk, 79) ****
Go watch INVASION IOWA. Trust me.
KIRK-A-THON
-Where No Man Has Gone Before
-The Paradise Syndrome
-The Gamesters of Triskellion
-The City on the Edge of Forever
-the death scene from GENERATIONS
DO-THE-LADIES-LOVE-KIRK-A-THON?
-By Any Other Name
-Miri
-Elaan of Troyius
-Requiem for Methusalah
-the McCoy "what IS it with you" scene from THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY
-DeForest Kelley (McCoy, 75) ****
BONES-A-THON
-The Man Trap
-Albatross TAS
-For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky
-the Data/Bones scene from "Encounter at Farpoint" TNG
-Nichelle Nichols (Uhura, 68) ****
UHURATHON
-Charlie X
-Mirror, Mirror
-Plato's Stepchildren
-James Doohan (Scotty, 64) ****
SCOTTYTHON
-Wolf in the Fold
-Turnabout Intruder
-the "hello, computer" scene from THE VOYAGE HOME
-Relics TNG
-George Takei (Sulu, 51) ****
Young. Wet. Bitches.
SULUTHON
-The Naked Time
-The Enemy Within
-Flashback VOY
-Walter Koenig (Chekov, 36) ****
PAVEL-A-THON
-Spectre of the Gun
-The Apple
-The Way to Eden
-the Botany Bay scene from THE WRATH OF KHAN
-the Alameda scene from THE VOYAGE HOME
-Majel Barrett (Chapel, 34) ****
-John Winston (Kyle, 11) ****
-Grace Lee Whitney (Yeoman Rand, 8) ****
-Bruce Hyde (lt. Kevin Riley, 2) ****
Who doesn't loves a little Riley?
LEFTOVERS-A-THON
-The Devil in the Dark
-The Doomsday Machine
-Let That Be Your Last Battlefield
And yes, i resisted the BAT-TREK-A-THON with Frank Gorshin, Julie Newmar, Lee Meriwether, and Yvonne Craig.

Yanksockies

2011-10-09T06:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Yankees, Red Sox, and Phillies (or as i like to say, New York All-Stars, Philadelphia Yankees, and Boston In-The-Black Sox),
I'm very sorry to hear about your recent departures from the race to become 2011 world champions. My condolences to all of the fine people who represent and run your athletic clubs. As Aunt Lola always says, keep your peckers up. I'm sure you're each just one more plundered all-star away from returning to the pinnacle of your sport.
May i suggest, however, a new approach to the perrenial problem of how to be the very best in a system that (unlike that commie football league with its fancy-pants salary cap) makes no pretense to fairness?
I offer, for your consideration, the New Haven Yanksockies. Were you to merge your three ball clubs into one, the embarrassment of losing a divisional series to some payroll-challenged team that doesn't know it's supposed to lose, will be erased forever. It's even possible you might never lose a game again. I know, i know, that seems a bit heavy-handed, but we've done studies on the fans in Boston, Philly, and New York, and their capacity for shame is virtually non-existent - a full 93.8% said they would eagerly attend a game in which their team had no chance of losing. Fans in your fine megalopolis would flock to your new 500,000-seat stadium in New Haven, Connecticut (a compromise location between your three excellent municipalities). It would have a monstrous green outfield wall, the Phanatic roaming the field between innings, and a picture of George Steinbrenner's face on every seat.
Of course, some of the stars on your fine clubs will have to adjust to being bench players. This will work out smoother than you might fear...the fact that these players signed with you in the first place should tell you all you need to know about their values and integrity. Tell them it's for the good of the team and the greater glory of the Henry/Montgomery/Steinbrenner families, then pay them all fifty million a year. Trust me, you'll be able to afford it.
You might be tempted to include the other member of the big four, Chicago, in your plans, but that's an agony no one needs. The Mets are tempting too, with their geographic proximity and payroll four times greater than loser teams like Tampa Bay...but every great team needs a whipping boy, and numbers don't lie. There are few things Americans love more than watching a New York team take it on the ass.
I know that melding this many egos into a cohesive unit will be a challenge. It's possible that bickering and power grabs may prevent this merger from even getting past the negotiation stage. In that event, here's my backup plan, which would sadly leave out the nice folk in Philly and Boston. Please tell the general manager of the Yankees (New York, not Philadelphia), Mr. Cashman (No really...is that his name? Come on, really?), that he could trade just one of his players, a certain Mr. Rodriguez, for the entire roster of the Kansas City Royals. I know, i know, if the Royals had anyone worth having you would have bought them long ago...but just between you and i, Mr. Cashman, i'd look into this one. Word on the street is that your Mr. Rodriguez is a cheater. And i ain't talking about Madonna (rim shot!). I'm sure your fans would be outraged if they ever thought for one second that any of their twenty-seven championships were come by unfairly.
The Yanksockies. One team. A payroll of 511 million dollars, in a league where the other teams would average 84 million.
What, my friends, could be more American than that?

Voyager

2011-10-08T18:29:00.000-07:00

STAR TREK: VOYAGER
1995-2001
The fourth TREK series, and a fine addition to the universe. That it didn't achieve the excitement engendered by the classic and Next Gen is hardly reason to ignore it. It created many moments worthy of its heritage, and was a distinct return to TREK sanity after the hit and miss experiment that was DS9. VOYAGER feels like TREK, and that's a wonderful thing. I was a bit ambivalent over what i saw of the first few seasons...yet like DS9, it received an exciting season 4 overhaul. VOYAGER gave us a high level of writing often worthy of science fiction at its truest and best.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE: 2.9
BY SEASON:
1) 2.6
2) 2.8
3) 2.9
4) 3.0
5) 3.0
6) 2.9
7) 2.9
FOUR-STAR EPISODES (season)
-Eye of the Needle (1)
-Projections (2)
-Alliances (2)
-Death Wish (2)
-Resolutions (2)
-Future's End (3)
-Distant Origin (3)
-Scorpion, pt. 1 (3)
-Scorpion, pt. 2 (4)
-Year of Hell (4)
-Message in a Bottle (4)
-Hunters (4)
-Prey (4)
-Hope and Fear (4)
-In the Flesh (5)
-Someone to Watch Over Me (5)
-Equinox, pt. 2 (6)
-Tinker Tenor Doctor Spy (6)
-Blink of an Eye (6)
-Virtuoso (6)
-Shattered (7)
-Endgame (7)
PERFORMANCES (# of episodes)
-Kate Mulgrew (Kathryn Janeway, 170) ***
Forever in the world's mind, there will be a woman captain in STAR TREK. You had an impossible job, Kate...the search for the balance that would please everyone (trekkies, feminists, casual fans). You succeeded. Naysayers, begone.
JANEWAY-A-THON
-Alliances
-Equinox
-Good Shepherd
-Tim Russ (Tuvok, 170) ****
After Leonard Nimoy and Mark Lenard (and maybe Robin Curtis), the only recurring vulcan who got it right. Whenever they gave him a chance to shine, he lifted everyone and everything around him. The brilliant Mr. Russ.
TUVOK-A-THON
-Meld
-Innocence
-Gravity
-Riddles
-the farewell scene from "Homestead"
-Robert Beltran (Chakotay, 170) ***
Just to remind you that DS9 wasn't a bad dream, they put a spiritual monkey on the first officer's back. It says much about Robert's talent and likeability that he bore the weight.
CHAKOTAY-A-THON
-Resolutions
-Distant Origin
-Shattered
-Robert Duncan McNeill (Tom Paris, 170) **
Admit it, Tom was never as compelling as Nick Locarno in TNG's "The First Duty". Was it simply that the producers didn't suck it up and pay that writer to continue using the character? Would that tiny thread of chemistry have made the difference? We wanted to like Tom, we did. But they got away from his "bad boy" side WAY too quickly. He should have bedded Kes, he should have...well, you could make a list, but instead, we got another Stafleet goodie-goodie, one who was saddled with a flaccid romance that ate his character.
-Roxann Dawson (B'Elanna Torres, 168) **
Another low rating that isn't the actor's fault. It would have been more interesting to push the boundaries of her tempestuousness further, and oh, that groaning clunker of a romance...
B'ELLANATHON
-Persistence of Vision
-Faces
-Juggernaut
-Garrett Wang (Harry Kim, 168) **
It's tempting to give him a third star for no other reason than the writers not saddling him with overtly annoying traits or plotlines.
-Robert Picardo (the doctor, 167) ****
If you're not comfortable with gushing, skip to the next character. A role that Robert initially wanted no part of, he went on to become the character most responsible for the success of the show. The episodes that didn't make the cut in this marathon were better than ones that did elsewhere. Get the popcorn...
DOCTOR-A-THON
-Projections
-Lifesigns
-Dr. Bashir, I Presume? DS9
-Message in a Bottle
-Someone to Watch Over Me
-Tinker Tailor Doctor Spy
-Virtuoso
-the confessional scene from "Renaissance Man"
-the party scene from "Endgame"
-Ethan Philips (Neelix, 164) *
A great performance in a disastrous failure of a character. Can anyone put their finger on what was so wrong? Not making him perversely jealous over Kes might have helped. A more evolved (non-20th century human) attitude, one encouraging of her having an affair with Tom or the doc or anyone else...then you would have had something, oh keepers of the vision. But in the big picture, he should have been written off in the house-cleaning after season 3. Or much sooner. Someone on the writing staff had a gallows sense of humor, at least. For your cathartic mental health, i offer the...
DEAD-NEELIX-A-THON
-the death scene from "Meld"
-the death scene from "Macrocosm"
-Mortal Coil
-Jeri Ryan (Seven of Nine, 102) ****
Has anyone ever painted a picture of Worf and Seven on a white horse, charging in to save the day? Franchise rescued? Check. Seven oh Seven, we love thee true. A fascinating character, and Jeri's looks prevent her from receiving the full appreciation she should for a job well done.
SEVEN-A-THON
-Hunters
-Relativity
-Dark Frontier
-Tsunkatse
-Body and Soul
-Jennifer Lien (Kes, 68) **
We liked her, we really did. A romance with the doctor might have popped. But the Neelix thing...great googily, it was so awful we could never put it out of our minds when she appeared.
-Scarlett Pomers (Naomi Wildman, 17) ***
Should have been annoying. Kinda nice.
-Martha Hackett (Seska, 13) **
Eh.
-Manu Intiraymi (Icheb, 11) ***
Makes you wish the show had lasted another season or two.
-Alexander Enberg (Vorik, 9) **
Perhaps underused.
-Nancy Hower (Samantha Wildman, 8) ***
How did her snot-nosed offspring wrangle more appearances? A romance with Harry or Neelix would have been interesting.
-Josh Clark (Joe Carey, 7) ***
That perfect Kyle/O'Brien small-dose presence.
-Dwight Schulz (Barclay, 6) ****
Somebody give this character a series. It speaks volumes about his resonance that i broke one of my unwritten rules and put "Projections" in two different marathons.
BARCLAY-A-THON
-Hollow Pursuits TNG
-Realm of Fear TNG
-Projections VOY
-Pathfinder VOY
-Inside Man VOY
-John de Lancie (Q, 3) ****
Brilliant. He took a well-written character, and flew it right off the charts.
Q-A-THON
-Encounter at Farpoint TNG
-Hide and Q TNG
-Deja Q TNG
-True Q TNG
-Q-Less DS9
-Death Wish VOY
8472-A-THON
-Scorpion
-Prey
-In the Flesh
LEFTOVERS-A-THON
-Eye of the Needle
-Future's End
-Hope and Fear
-Blink of an Eye

new yorkers

2011-10-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

At the corner of 50th and Lex
He stands in the street
Red cape, blue shirt, grizzled visage
Pants around his ankles
And a thousand-meter stare

At the base of the Manhattan Bridge
The 3AM lover fixes a flat tire
Summoned to the sexual consummation
of a polite first date
ended four hours earlier

On the PATH train
The sweet-faced youth dressed like a gangsta
Bops to his headphone beat
His watch alarm goes off
Beeping and beeping and beeping and beeping...

Voyager, season 7

2011-10-08T10:18:00.001-07:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 2
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.9
-Unimatrix Zero, pt. 2 ***
Tain't often you see a pissed-off klingon ex-drone leading a borg sphere into battle. I'm just saying.
-Imperfection ***
WEST WING fans, watch this one with the eye of the hawk.
-Drive *
This one really pulls you in...sharp dialogue, beautiful visuals, and a nice helping of guest star Cyia Batten (STUDIO 60, three different TREKs). It takes a left turn into mawkish monogamy however, then explodes into ridiculously preposterous contrivance when it asks us to believe that Tom would stop his ship in middle of an interspecies grand prix to talk to B'Elanna about, y'know, relationship stuff. Don't be holding anything that could shatter a TV screen when the final shot rolls - "Just Married" and tin cans on the Delta Flyer. How howlingly appropriate that the following episode is entitled "Repression".
-Repression ***
-Critical Care ***
-Inside Man ***
Reg! Deanna! Ferengi intercept a holographic data transmission to Voyager, and re-program it to send a hologram of lt. Barclay with instructions that will get Voyager home, but with all biological life dead. They can then harvest Seven's nanoprobes. The doctor is the only one who suspects something is amiss. Back in the alpha quadrant, Reg works to save the crew, with the help of Troi, whom he picked up on the sexiest Risean beach you've ever seen.
-Body and Soul ***
Smashing. Kim, Seven, and the doctor are taken prisoner by hologram-fighting aliens. Seven hides the doctor's file into her implants, and his personality takes control of her. He (in she) goes on a sensate binge, and two of the aliens get into romantic conundrums with him (in her), including one with Megan Gallagher (THE LARRY SANDERS SHOW). Jeri Ryan's performance is a revelation, and Picardo is his usual wry wonderfulness.
-Nightingale **
Ron (BARNEY MILLER, FIREFLY) Glass!
-Flesh and Blood ***
Jeff (V) Yagher!
-Shattered ****
Voyager is split into different temporal zones, past and future. Chakotay is the only one who can move from zone to zone, courtesy of an injection by a pre-mobile emitter doctor. He must convince a badlands-era Janeway to work with him, then he must deal with her reaction to stranding Voyager. It's a love note to the show's history...and it works, even tugging the heartstrings a bit.
-Lineage **
-Repentance ***
-Prophecy ***
-The Void ***
To be viewed in conjuction with "The Time Trap", STAR TREK animated.
-Workforce ***
A mix of four-star and two. Most of the crew is shanghaied to be on the workforce of an alien planet, with memories of their previous lives' erased. Janeway's "paradise syndrome" episode, as she falls into the carnal embrace of good man Jaffen. Tuvok is the only one whose buried consciousness struggles to arise. A little vomit is induced by Paris befriending and protecting the bristly B'Elanna, who is carrying his child. Don Most (HAPPY DAYS!) plays an amoral doctor, and John Aniston brings his Friendly genitals to the party.
-Human Error ***
-Q2 ***
-Author, Author ***
A trial is held to determine the doctor's sentient status, conducted with Starfleet through a video feed, after a holonovel of his is published back home against his wishes. The novel portrays Voyager-like characters in an unflattering light, and the struggle of photonic life to be accorded freedom and respect. At first the holo-characterizations seem preposterously unfair...but seen as metaphor, i would rush to the doctor's defense in a heartbeat. For a while the episode seems merely obligatory, but be careful or you'll suddenly feel an emotional response.
-Friendship One ***
-Natural Law ***
Chakotay is wounded in a shuttle crash with Seven, and is taken in by a pre-agricultural culture. One of the most beautiful, realistic depictions of a primitive race in TREK history. They are gentle and capable and offer help with no thought of reward...which makes me think that someone on the writing staff has been doing their reading. Seven forms a touching bond with a teenager (Autumn Reeser, THE BRADY BUNCH IN THE WHITE HOUSE).
-Homestead **
Neelix's farewell. Stow that talk about it coming 6.9 seasons too late...there are thirteen fans across this globe who idolize Neelix. What, we're going to deny them their bliss? The final moment between Tuvok and Neelix is actually four-star wonderfulness.
-Renaissance Man ***
It's a doctorpalooza! He has to impersonate almost all members of the bridge staff as he's sabotaging the ship, because aliens will kill Janeway if he doesn't. The scene when he thinks he's about to decompile, and confesses all his transgressions, is hysterical.
-Endgame ****
A scorcher of a series finale. Alice Krige (FIRST CONTACT, CHARIOTS OF FIRE) returns as the borg queen, to face off against two Janeways...one from a future in which it took Voyager 23 years to get home, with horrible losses. Admiral Janeway says fuck the temporal prime directive, and steals Federation technology to go back in time and try to bring Voyager home through a borg transwarp hub. The younger Janeway wants to destroy the hub instead. Barclay waits on the other end, and Lisa LoCicero is wonderful as Miral Paris, the grown-up daughter of youknowwhom. At the end, when they're suddenly, finally home, one feels a little cheated at the underplaying of the emotional response...it's hard to believe that the release from the enormity of their isolation wouldn't result in a more rawly human reaction. The only one not crying should have been Tuvok. But i quibble.

black hair

2011-10-05T16:03:00.000-07:00

SIX REASONS BLACK WOMEN SHOULD STOP STRAIGHTENING
1) Because natural black hair feels wonderful.
2) Because crazy things happening when caught in a rainstorm should only apply to gremlins.
3) Because if it were as necessary as all that, black men would do it too.
4) Money money money money...money!
5) Because Malcolm X was right.
6) Do you really need a reason other than #1?

(Trust me, sweet sisters...on behalf of the boys everywhere who want to touch you [and also the boys who want to touch you everywhere], just trust me. One day, your granddaughters [perhaps our granddaughters...nudge nudge] will look at photos of you from this time and giggle, "Oh Grammy, WHAT on earth were you thinking?")

yoko's lost verse

2011-10-04T06:21:00.000-07:00

(A demo tape was recently found in a box of junk at a yard sale in Piscataway, New Jersey. The demo is an early recording of "Give Me Something", by Yoko Ono. It contained this fourth verse, which got cut from the released version.)

The pasta's limp
The salad's limp
The broccoli's limp
Your blimp is limp
Give me something that's not limp
Come on!
Come on!
(come on!!!)
Give me something that's not limp
Come on!
Come on!
(come on!!!)
Give me something that's not limp
Come on!
Come on!
(come on!!!)
Give me!
Give me!

MAS*H, season 4

2011-10-03T05:34:00.001-07:00

FOUR STAR
-Welcome to Korea
Henry and Trapper have left the building. How do you recover from that? By having the services of Larry Gelbart. No matter which characters you preferred, season 4 bursts out of the gate with a burst of excellence that is in all ways undeniable. Hawkeye stumbles home from R&R, to find that Trapper's been discharged. He rushes to the airport to say goodbye. Missing him by ten minutes, he and Radar welcome his replacement, B.J. Hunnicut. They smuggle coroporal-captain O'Reilly into an officer's club, treat dying soldiers on the road, and get smashed at Rosie's...all before B.J. even meets Frank.
-Change of Command
Horse hockey! One of Klinger's most shining moments. Army careerist Sherman T. Potter arrives to take command. Tensions run high and Frank runs away, but by the end of the episode Potter's singing drinking songs in the Swamp.
-The Late Captain Pierce
Hawkeye is mistakenly declared dead. Eisenhower's visit has communications down. A dogfaced undertaker (Richard Masur - RISKY BUSINESS, THE THING, RHODA) wants his body. Seamless.
-Dear Mildred
Potter writes an anniversary letter. Margaret and Frank commission him a bust, made by the indomitable Cho (Richard Lee-Sung). Radar gives a rescued horse. Potter's road apple slip is iconic.
-Hawkeye
Hawkeye has a jeep accident. With a head injury, he is taken in by a family who speak no English. He babbles to them (and sings the odd show tune) to avoid falling asleep. An indelible performance by Alan.
-Some 38th Parallels
Frank auctions garbage, Radar is shaken by the sudden death of a patient whose life he'd saved, and Hawkeye delivers a messy present to a colonel (Kevin Hagen, LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE) who delivers too many dead soldiers. Hawk has a bout of impotence with Lynette Mettey (in the last of her six unforgettable appearances as various nurses...a great actor and the sexiest jaw in television history). The resolve is a bit unsatisfying, but what do you want from twenty-four minutes?
-The More I See You
The woman Hawkeye could never get over (the wonderful Blythe Danner) is assigned to the 4077th. She's married now. Their feelings return. He proposes himself into a corner, literally...and she knows he'll always be married to his work first. She transfers out, leaving him hollow and alone.
-Deluge
It's hard to describe why this episode is four-star. It's missing the "unforgettable" factor that is the most pertinent requirement. Heck, it's even missing a plot. But this unrelenting unspooling of the worst conditions the camp has ever dealt with taps into the idea of M*A*S*H at its purest. Unending casualties as supplies disappear...fire, explosions, blood in the eye, surgery without gloves, and the announcement that China has entered the war sending 300,000 soldiers...all of it interspersed with B&W newsreels.
-The Interview
Real-life Korean correspondent Clete Roberts stars as himself, interviewing camp personnel for a newsreel. Filmed in black & white without a laugh track, the network was very nervous, but this episode is an essential part of any conversation invoking the words "greatest M*A*S*H ever". Written and directed by series creator Larry Gelbart, his swan song after four seasons. Words can never express our thanks, Larry.
NOTEWORTHY
-Hey, Doc ***
An airtight lil' gem focusing on "under the table" treatments for visiting officers who don't want indiscretions on their records. Frank drives a tank over two tents and a jeep. Plus the delightful Ted Hamilton (THE PIRATE MOVIE).
-The Bus ***
The surgeons and Radar get stranded on a broken-down bus in the middle of nowhere. Frank hoards chocolate, and a surrendering North Korean (the endlessly delovely Soon-Tek Oh) fixes their ride.
-The Kids ***
A gem of a look into O.R. life on the day orphans stay in camp. Frank loses his dubious purple heart to a newborn.
-Of Moose and Men ***
B.J. helps an outraged Zale write a letter to his straying wife. Zale, of course, has a moose in town. A bristly colonel (Tim O'Connor, BUCK ROGERS) is outraged at Hawkeye's lack of discipline.
-Soldier of the Month ***
Frank, delirious from fever, says "The only one who ever liked me as a kid was the school janitor...he showed me pictures of the heavyweight champs." Where i come from, we call that "slidin' a live one past the censors".
-The Gun ***
The lovely Warren Stevens (http://unboughtsoul.blogspot.com/2011/08/warren-stevens.html) plays a wounded colonel whose fancy gun is stolen.

"Coach"

2011-10-02T05:31:00.000-07:00

COACH
-a review
Not a great film. The writing flirts with good, but occasionally descends into obviousness. The directing and cinematography could have used a defter touch.
Not a great film.
But an absolutely astonishing one. Astounding and confounding.
Every movie is of course a snapshot of its era. Even films that deal with the past or future, cannot help but reflect the attitudes and morals of the day. COACH is about a female ex-olympian, Randy Rawlings, who is hired to coach a boy's high school basketball team. The Principal who hired her (a dandy performance by Keenan Wynn - DR. STRANGELOVE, SANTA CLAUS IS COMIN' TO TOWN) wasn't aware she's not a man, and immediately tries to dismiss her. She threatens litigation, and the "woman vs. boorish male establishment" vibe is one you fully expect from a 1979 film. Randy (Cathy Lee Crosby) is of course very capable, and triumphs. Well and good. But what you never expect...
Is anything other than a pedestrian film. The studio, Crown International, was pumping out a slew of drek during the 70s. A glance at the bios of the writers and director doesn't prepare you for anything special.
A huge part of the plot deals with romance. No surprise, you say? The romance is between Randy and one of her players, Jack Ripley. Ah, that gets your attention? Jack is played by Michael Biehn (TERMINATOR, ALIENS, THE ABYSS, TOMBSTONE), in his screen debut. So, a tale of forbidden love?
No.
Not really.
No.
Modern eyes cannot conceive of any movie dealing with a sexual relationship between a high school student and teacher, unless it's in the context of some morality tale in which there will be, must be, punishment and suffering. The only movies that get around that rule are comedies that makes no pretense to reality....AMERICAN PIE, or something of that ilk.
COACH is none of those. It's a comedy, but an earnest one, never straying from the attempt to portray real life.
And the confounding thing is...
You keep waiting for the hammer to fall.
You keep waiting for the love affair to explode.
So many moments go by, when you think for sure the hammer was supposed to have just fallen.
And it never does.
It portrays a loving, sexual relationship between student and teacher...and not one single life gets shattered. The team triumphs, Randy and Jack keep having loving sex, and...that's it, really. There's not even a mawkish "you know this has to end" scene. Randy is aware of Jack's inexperience, and never encourages him to think that their relationship has a future...but she also never tells him it won't. I know what you're thinking...this is all just some overblown male adolescent fantasy. I don't think so. Randy is very much her own woman. She's smart, not a caricature. Plus, one of the writers was a woman, Nancy Larson. I often look for the presence of a female writer on any show that deals with sexuality, and feel affirmed when i find one (does this reverse-sexism bother me at all...yes).
But it's not just that the hammer doesn't fall. It's that the lovers don't spend the film walking on eggshells. There's almost no paranoia...only once does Randy bristle, when Jack brushes her ass when they're barely alone in the gym. But she immediately forgets about it. And there's an unforgettable scene where they barely avoid getting caught fucking in the gym shower. So it's not like they're in some dreamworld, unaware that something illicit is going on...they're just profoundly unbothered by it.
Now how you or i or your cousin Lou might feel about all this...well, most people would be bothered, even outraged. And in the past i've stated that teachers like Mary Kay Letorneau, while they should never be exposed to any kind of prosecution, probably should lose their posts. But i say that only because this society is so neurotic about anything to do with sex. We're so guilt-ridden and repressed, that almost any teacher/student relationship is likely to end in conflicts of interest and everybody generally losing their heads. But in a healthy society, i cannot imagine any consensual adult/youth sexual relationship being damaging to anyone...indeed, just the opposite. Do you really think the best way for someone to have sex for the first time is with a partner equally inexperienced and nervous, or with someone experienced and nurturing?
Anyway...it's a fascinating film. It's tantalizing too, because rather than just have simple bad dialogue, in many of those moments, it's almost like the writers were going for a kind of realness in speech, a la Mamet. The lines are faintly clumsy, but...is that intentional? Maybe.
Is COACH just an accidental product of the tail end of the sexual revolution, before the wave of PC hypersensitivity to workplace propriety arrived in the eighties? Or did the creators know exactly what they were doing? I'd love to do a remake, and lavish really good writing on it. I'd also love for a deluxe dvd to be released, full of cast and director/writer interviews, so we could know how the film came to be. Brent Huff (THE PERILS OF GWENDOLYN) also stars, and there's another actor i am having a hard time not believing isn't future NBA hall of famer Kevin McHale, required for some reason to act under the pseudonym Jack David Walker. Jack, if that was really you, i apologize.
Some of the moments are hit and miss, but it's a sweet film, and thanks to Crosby and Biehn it's very sexy, in a non-gratuitous way. Yes, Cathy fills out her gym shorts and shirt in a way that could fill any adolescent (or adult or geriatric, or single-celled paramecium) with tingly feelings. But for its time, it leans a little closer to prudery than disinhibition (indeed, without that flaw, Randy Rawlings probably would have registered as one of the most beautiful female cinema characters of all time). And more to the point, it's Cathy's performance that shines. Watching it, you are filled with curiosity over what ate the career she should have had. THAT'S INCREDIBLE was fun, but it's obvious she had so much more to offer. The heck of it is though, a part of me thinks she looks back on this movie with a touch of embarrassment.
One of our family stories is how my grandfather never went any further than seventh grade. He said he knew he was ready for the real world, when he started sleeping with his teacher. A tall tale? I'll never know. A tale of evil wrongdoing? You tell me.
A fantastic film to watch with a group. Be prepared for spirited, contentious discussion.

Deep Space Nine

2011-09-30T08:49:00.000-07:00

STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE
1993-1999
A partially-successful exploration. A sometimes darker TREK...yet it also took us to spiritual places that undermined and diminished Gene's original vision. The visual effects were wonderful, but could have made us feel the enormity of the station better (something that would have helped would have been an episode portraying a yearly spacewalk contest from the bottom of the station to the top). I think sometimes the producers fell victim to the cast-the-best-actor-and-everything-will-be-perrrrrfect syndrome. As an actor, i am loathe to say that sometimes casting the most talented individual is wrong, but...a great actor can make good material look great and okay material look good, but there are limits. And the greatest limitation is chemistry. If it's not there, there's very little talent can do to fix it. No other TREK ever relied so heavily on supporting regulars...perhaps a wise reaction to the misfiring in some of the regular characters. DS9 without Garak, Martok, Weyoun, Dukat, Leeta...a grim thought indeed. DS9 was also supposedly the "friendship" TREK, but the most-celebrated example (Julian/O'Brien) wasn't even the best friendship on the show...Odo/Quark and Jake/Nog had better resonance. With multiple albatrosses (religion, two marriages, and the ferengi) around its neck, it's a testament to the creators that the show flies as well as it does. Its most enduring, fantastic contribution is a permanent place in the zeitgeist, of a black TREK captain.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE: 2.6
BY SEASON:
1) 2.5
2) 2.6
3) 2.6
4) 2.7
5) 2.6
6) 2.7
7) 2.8
FOUR-STAR EPISODES (season)
-Emissary (1)
-Blood Oath (2)
-The Jem'Hadar (2)
-Defiant (3)
-Way of the Warrior (4)
-The Visitor (4)
-Sons of Mogh (4)
-Apocalypse Rising (5)
-In Purgatory's Shadow (5)
-By Inferno's Light (5)
-A Time to Stand (6)
-Rocks and Shoals (6)
-One Little Ship (6)
-The Siege of AR-558 (7)
-Tacking into the Wind (7)
PERFORMANCES (# of episodes)
-Avery Brooks (Benjamin Sisko, 173) ****
Even saddled with an Emissary thread that never popped and a romance that never sizzled, you can't imagine the show working with anyone but him. Have they released A MAN CALLED HAWK on dvd yet?
SISKO-A-THON
-Emissary
-The Adversary
-Waltz
-Take Me Out to the Holosuite
-Nana Visitor (Kira Nerys, 171) **
I understand that filming a series is hard, fast, and unforgiving. But no other actor had as many "that wasn't the best acting" moments. The spark between her and Sisko in the pilot was intriguing, but never went anywhere. None of her romances (Bareil, Shakaar, Odo) popped.
-Rene Auberjonois (Odo, 170) ***
Why did the character of Odo never quite pop? They had the right actor - Rene (M*A*S*H, KING KONG, BENSON, BOSTON LEGAL) could have delivered any kind of nuanced performance you might want. He had his moments, but...did the writing let him down? Was it the mystery of ever-elusive chemistry? The devotion of so much of his storyline to a flaccid romance? All of the above?
ODOTHON
-The Begotten
-the Kirzon scene in "Facets"
-The Abandoned
-Children of Time
-Chimera
-Alexander Siddig (Dr. Julian Bashir, 169) ***
He was sadly saddled with a best-friendship that never popped, and Dax-romancing that never sizzled. His name was more fun when he was Siddig el Fadil. It was nice having a presence in the TREK universe so Arabic. My brother and i chidingly called him "Al" when he became Alexander. But he's delightful by any name, especially in KINGDOM OF HEAVEN and SYRIANA.
-Colm Meaney (Miles O'Brien, 159) ***
Who doesn't love O'Brien? He never misplayed a scene in 211 episodes. It's nice when nice things happen to nice people. But his albatrosses held him down...his eh friendship with Julian, and his pheh home life (and i don't say that just because 24th-century humans will NOT have a marriage institution that resembles our own...).
-Armin Shimerman (Quark, 157) ***
A brilliant performer...you just know he's the kind directors (such as those on BEAUTY AND THE BEAST and BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER) love to work with. It's very possible he was the most crucial actor of the series. With the continued focus DS9 gave the ferengi, and the fact that they were never able to rise above the flaccidity they established in TNG...just try to imagine a different actor in his place. He may have been single-handedly responsible for DS9's non-cancellation.
-Terry Farrell (Jadzia Dax, 146) ****
Not a great actor, but good. And the writers were very good to her (in all but a couple unfortunate instances). So she usually shone. We liked her and Worf...and we're pretty hard to please.
DAX-A-THON
-Invasive Procedures
-Equilibrium
-Rejoined
-Penumbra
-Michael Dorn (Worf, 98) ****
The most prolific actor in TREK history. 270 episodes and five feature films, all under makeup that most wouldn't last a day in. Not impressed? Okay, you forced me to me say this...31 epsodes of CHiPS. Hail the son of Mogh! What effect did Worf have on the DS9 franchise? I think their seven-year run was in more jeopardy than we knew. He was a shot in the arm when they knew they needed it.
WORF-A-THON
-The Emissary TNG
-Sins of the Father TNG
-Reunion TNG
-Redemption TNG
-Parallels TNG
-Sons of Mogh
-Change of Heart
-Cirroc Lofton (Jake Sisko, 71) ***
Not bad, not bad at all. So good that no one ever thought to call him DS9's Wesley (with the parallel in how they both avoided the paths of their Starfleet fathers). Well done, Jake-o.
-Aron Eisenberg (Nog, 47) ***
A sweet character arc, going from a snotty, scheming kid in a believeable friendship with Jake, to the first ferengi in Starfleet.
-Max Grodenchik (Rom, 37) ***
A fun arc, going from dim, exploited brother, to civilian engineer, to a kinder, gentler Grand Nagus. His "dimness" was of course due (well, partly) to his un-ferengilike personality. Did we ever buy that babe-goddess Leeta would fall for him? Nah, but we didn't care so much.
-Andrew Robinson (Garak, 37) ****
Delightful...Andrew scalpeled his way through this fascinatingly complex character, a simple tailor in exile, with a far-from-simple past. Delightful.
-Marc Alaimo (Dukat, 35) ****
The slimily evil Dukat, with his attempts at retribution and his desire to be loved, was played with unending verve by Marc (HILL STREET BLUES, NAKED GUN 33 1/3). Not many characters like this one. And not many necks.
-Jeffrey Combs (Weyoun/Brunt, 32) ****
His obsequious vorta was a chilly delight. He'd go on to be the irascible Shran in ENTERPRISE.
-J.G. Hertzler (Martok/Laas, 27) ****
Why, a one-eyed horta could see Martok's greatness!
-Nicole de Boer (Ezri, 25) ****
Nobody could have asked for more from a beloved character replacement. It would have been fascinating to know what they could have done with her given more time.
-Casey Biggs (Damar, 23) ****
From fiendishness to alcoholism to semi-redemption to death...
-Rosalind Chao (Keiko, 19) **
A wonderful actress dealt a losing hand.
-Chase Masterson (Leeta, 17) ****
Only 17? Someone on the production staff was afraid of greatness.
-Penny Johnson (Kasidy Yates, 15) *
No no no noooooooo. A thousand times, no. We adore Penny (THE LARRY SANDERS SHOW), but she and Sisko had as much chemistry as a soggy, dead tribble.
-Salome Jens (female Foundling, 15) **
Not bad.
-Louise Fletcher (Kai Winn, 14) *
Bad, and not this lovely actor's (ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST) fault.
-Barry Jenner (Admiral Ross, 12) **
He had three stars until some writer gave him the line, "Godspeed".
-Hana Hatae (Molly O'Brien, 11) ***
What, i'm going to pick on a child?
-Ken Marshall (Eddington, 9) **
A nice performer.
-Philip Anglim (Vedek Bareil, 8) **
Back when we still had hope for Kira, we knew this noodle didn't deserve her.
-Robert O'Reilly (Gowron, 8) ****
They should have done a whole episode of complete silence and total darkness, except for once in a while his eyes would pop open, and you would never know where or how far from you they would be.
-James Darren (Vic Fontaine, 8) ****
Sometimes the right guy is in the right place at the right time, pally. And sometimes that person did T.J. HOOKER and THE TIME TUNNEL.
FONTAINE-A-THON
-His Way
-Only a Paper Moon
-Badda-Bing, Badda-Bang
-the lounge scene from "What You Leave Behind"
-Wallace Shawn (Grand Nagus Zek, 7) ***
PRINCESS BRIDE, MY DINNER WITH ANDRE...it's inconceivable that he gets less than four stars! Inconceivable!
-Brock Peters (Joseph Sisko, 6) ***
-Melanie Smith (Ziyal, 6) ****
Zeus help me, i want to hump a cardassian...and, er, a wonderful actor.
-Camille Saviola (Kai Opaka, 4) ****
See? I can love a religious leader, now leave me alone.
-Paul Dooley (Tain, 4) **
Deserved better.
-John Colicos (Kor, 3) ***
From TREK's first klingon to GALACTICA to DS9...we love you, John.
-Duncan Regehr (Shakaar, 3) ***
We loved him in V. Here, he's another one just not right for Kira.
-Felecia M. Bell (Jennifer Sisko, 3) ****
Ben, you would have had our whole-hearted blessing if you'd taken Jake and moved to the alternate universe for keeps.
-Frank Langella (Minister Jaro, 3) ***
When is it not a good time for some Langella?
-Tony Todd (Kurn/old Jake, 2) ****
Nobody else made a splash this big with a stone this small.
DOMINIOTHON
-The Jem'Hadar
-Hippocratic Oath
-To the Death
-A Time to Stand
-Rocks and Shoals
LEFTOVER-A-THON
-One Little Ship
-Valiant
-The Sound of Her Voice
-The Siege of AR-558

10

2011-09-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

"Whenever Mrs. Kissel breaks wind, we beat the dog."
-the reverend
10
-a review
Blake Edwards' (other) masterpiece. Aren't geniuses entitled to only one? If you have more than one, they can't technically both be a masterpiece. I'm not sure how much our younger generation is aware of Edwards, one of the top three comedy writer/directors in Hollywood history. In truth, his most famous work isn't aging so well. There's no denying Peter Sellers' genius, but to modern eyes the PINK PANTHER series comes off a little forced. That is not the case for VICTOR/VICTORIA and 10, however...one suspects that their brilliance will be forever immune to the vagaries of time and taste. On my list of the greatest comedies of all time, i sincerely hope 10 will clock in at #10 (some things are too perfect).
And how do you explain a film so perfect? How do you explain every tinest element clicking, in a fabric of funny that seems far too evenly pure for the frankensteinian process that is filmmaking? Is it the vision that lifts the elements, or the other way round? The truth is probably both...one needs to be fortunate enough to have the writing and acting come together just right...but then when the audience is sitting in the theater, it's the spirit of the film that makes it all take off, tapping into the viewer's willingness that the film be the funniest thing they've ever seen. Most scenes from any masterpiece could come off as merely pedestrian, were they to be dropped into a lesser film.
10, made in 1979, is about the mid-life crisis of celebrated composer George Webber. His longtime collaboration with lyricist Hugh (Robert Webber - 12 ANGRY MEN, PRIVATE BENJAMIN) is both satisfying and boring...a mirror of his romantic life with singer Samantha Taylor (Julie Andrews). As he bemoans the shallowness of the songs the kids are listening to these days, his surliness annoys everyone. Then he spies a woman (Bo Derek) on the way to her wedding, and is so thoroughly enthralled by her innocence and beauty, he drops everything and rushes off to their honeymoon destination in Mexico. In a rage of pills and booze, he seduces one woman and spies on the young bride. He then saves her husband's life, and as the husband (Sam Jones, the future FLASH GORDON) lies in the hospital, he takes the bride Jenny to dinner. She invites him back to her suite...
Along the way, nothing happens as it's supposed to, and Moore's physical comedy is so deft your laughter may get wet. The verbal humor is perfect, and perfectly quoteable. But balancing all the hilarity is the realness of the characters...you can feel their anger and frustration and sadness, right in your gut. This is a trick lost on the current crop of Hollywood comedy actors and writers.
It's hard to imagine any other actor playing Moore's part. George Segal quit the role after Andrews' role had been inflated. I love Segal, but his departure had to be a blessing, as was Andrew's increased screentime...the sparks, both good and bad, between she and Moore, are as good as moviemaking gets (and Julie's beautiful songs also pepper the film). Peter Sellers also turned down the role...again, for all his brilliance, a casting choice that would have been wrong. And it's not just Dudley's acting, but his musical talent, that make the film. He plays his own piano, and it's some of the most sadly beautiful music you can imagine.
Robert Webber's portrayal of a gay man of humor and intelligence (without one ounce of affectation) is one of the great supporting performances in movie history. He seems on top of the world with his boy toy, but by the end of the film is awash in heartache...and we can't help feeling that all romance in this broken society can only end so.
It's the perfection in all the supporting parts that elevates this movie. It's that rare film in which you want no part of any Oscar talk, because you couldn't bear to see anyone in the cast not get one. Dee Wallace (E.T.) is heart-rendingly poignant as the woman Dudley seduces...only to not be able to get it up. It's not the first time it's happened to her...her talk of Willis Ackerman almost makes ME want to drink. Brian Dennehy gives his best performance this side of FIRST BLOOD, as sympathetic bartender Don. Max Showalter (SIXTEEN CANDLES) is a hoot as a horribly-musical reverend whom Dudley shmoozes to get info out of. John Hancock (AIRPLANE II, THE STING II, STAR TREK: TNG) is absolute perfection as Dudley's therapist, that voice telling us everything we don't want to hear about ourselves. James Noble (AIRPLANE II, BENSON) is a silly delight as the bride's dentist father, whom Dudley also shmoozes info out of (and gets a mouth full of surgery for his trouble). And Don Calfa (WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S, THE RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD) is priceless as the hippie neighbor presiding over an unending orgy.
And...maybe you thought i wouldn't mention her...Bo Derek, as Jenny. She's been saddled with so much crap in her career. I'm not saying she's the second coming of Hermione Gingold, but no fair-minded person could walk away from this film thinking that she's anything other than a very capable actress. There's not one line she doesn't nail. The part was first offered to Melanie Griffith. And then Kay Lenz. Kim Basinger was also considered. It's tempting to think about how Kay or Kim might have done, but you don't mess around with the chemistry this film had - enough to turn both Dudley and Bo into international superstars. And it's her role that is ultimately the focal point of what's so historically interesting. The characters of George and Samantha, for all we love them, are ultimately trapped in the mores of their time, and all the more miserable for it. We are satisfied and delighted when they get back together, with George ready to devote his life to just one woman. But that's the film's blind spot...for all their love and genuine caring, there's only one place they can be heading - a loving, contentious marriage in which the contentiousness will prevail. And in the middle of that, here's Jenny...saying life should be about happiness and love, and expressing it wherever and whenever it strikes, without guilt. She's happy to make love to George, but his burdens of guilt, and dream that she will want to give her life to him...she just can't understand that.
George isn't entirely wrong...perhaps Jenny's way is a bit too casual, too anonymous...
Or maybe she's not wrong at all.
A wonderful post-film topic of discussion.
And to what extent Edwards was intending Jenny to be a sympathetic character, is a second great question. He was married to his star, Ms. Andrews, so it's possible he meant Jenny to be entirely unsympathetic. My hunch is that he didn't. I wonder whether even Julie knows.

Deep Space Nine, season 7

2011-09-27T15:19:00.000-07:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 2
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.8
-Image in the Sand ***
That...was pretty fucking good. On Earth, Sisko receives a vision of his unknown mother. On the station, Vic Fontaine sings Jadzia's song and Worf trashes the joint, while Col. Kira deals with the underhanded actions of her romulan allies. Great work by the supporting cast, especially Megan Cole as Cretak. Plus the button-cute debut of Nicole de Boer as Ezri Dax.
-Shadows and Symbols **
-Afterimage ***
-Take Me Out to the Holosuite ***
An Academy rival of Sisko's challenges his crew to a baseball game. Ignore yet another illy-portrayed vulcan, and just embrace the unapologetic silliness of it all. The writers had the good sense to show the home team getting creamed, but celebrating nonetheless. This one deserves a spot on a sci fi marathon portraying futuristic beings playing 20th-century games.
-Chrysalis ***
-Treachery, Faith, and the Great River ***
Fun. As Nog wheels and deals on O'Brien's behalf, Odo tries to bring a vorta defector back in a runabout. A fine dual performance by the always lovely Jeffrey Combs.
-Once More unto the Breach ***
A fitting farewell to John Colicos, in the last role of his life. As the aging Kor, he dies with honor.
-The Siege of AR-558 ****
Searing. TREK's most stark portrayal of war ever. Focusing on characters who have no battle experience, the Federation defends a pathetic planetoid against waves of jem'hadar. Desperation, death, and dismemberment are everywhere, and not just with the guest stars. Bill Mumy (Will Robinson, LOST IN SPACE) is wonderfully resonant as an engineer who befriends Ezri. Sadly for the series, she has more chemistry with him than with either Worf or Julian. Patrick Kilpatrick (Reese) is very, very good. Raymond Cruz (ALIEN RESURRECTION, CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER) couldn't be better.
-Covenant **
-It's Only a Paper Moon ***
A thoughtful exploration of shell shock, as Nog comes to grips with losing a leg in battle. He retreats into the holodeck, to live in Vic Fontaine's world. The first opportunity for both Aron Eisenberg and James Darren to carry an episode, and they acquit themselves well. Too often, TREK characters are exempt from pain, or the ramifications of violence. Not here. Vic's world and music are a delight.
-Prodigal Daughter ***
Nicole de Boer's first chance to carry an episode, and she does just fine. Dysfunctional family drama that is a compelling mirror for our society, as she returns home for the first time in years. Kevin Rahm (that Spader-lookin' motherfucker from JUDGING AMY) shines as her troubled brother. Ugly stuff, and abnormally real.
-The Emperor's New Cloak **
-Field of Fire ***
-Chimera ***
A non-Founder changeling finds Odo, and wants them to travel the galaxy looking for others of their kind. Poking and prodding in all the right places, Laas (a nifty performance by J.G. Hertzler) has disdain for humanoids. Existential angst beautifully rendered.
-Badda-Bing, Badda-Bang ***
-Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges ***
This idea of "Section 31", a Federation shadow agency that does the dirty jobs no one else can, was explored in both DS9 and ENT. Mostly, the episodes didn't resonate because the writing came up short. But it was an idea worthy of exploring, and this episode is the best of the batch. Julian is pressured into collecting intelligence (and more) at a romulan medical conference. Section 31 is always several steps ahead. A fine performance by John Fleck (ENTERPRISE), and the identity of the actress playing Cretak will absolutely taunt you. Go watch it now, while i tell everyone else that it was Adrienne Barbeau. No, really! Really. Plus, much of the action takes place onboard an Intrepid-class (Voyager!) vessel.
-Penumbra ***
-'Til Death Do Us Part **
-Strange Bedfellows **
-The Changing Face of Evil ***
While Worf and Ezri await cardassian execution, the breen join the Dominion and launch a strike on Earth. The Defiant is destroyed. Finally rejecting the yoke of second-class citizenship, Damar (Casey Biggs, in his finest moment) leads Cardassia in revolt.
-When it Rains ***
-Tacking into the Wind ****
Worf challenges Gowron and kills him, installing Martok as chancellor, while Kira and Garak and Odo and Damar execute a high-risk raid. So long, Robert O'Reilly, and the most memorable eyes in TREK history. We had to get to the other side of the Worf/Ezri romance to come to a fantastic scene between them, when she makes him face what has long been the fatal flaw in the Empire. Can you spot J. Paul Boehmer, TREK's favorite Nazi?
-Extreme Measures **
-The Dogs of War ***
-What You Leave Behind ***
A wonderfully satisfying finale. Some of the most awesome space battles in TREK history, and a farewell scene in Vic's lounge with him singing "Just the Way You Look Tonight", that touches the heartstrings just right. And no, it's not the resolutions to the spiritual aspects of the series that keep it from four stars (though they didn't help)...it's the omission of any Jadzia visuals in the beautiful flashback collage.

vegemerrian

2011-09-26T06:41:00.000-07:00

I'm 90% vegan, and would be delighted to be 100%. The only reason i don't is because you cut yourself off from so much (Mom's holiday cookies, for example). Plus, it can be expensive and inconvenient - animal products are still so omnipresent.
I became a vegetarian at fifteen, mostly for teen identity crisis reasons. It took me six years to realize that, so at twenty-one i started eating meat again. For some bizarre reason, i chose McDonald's as my first meat after that layoff. Going anywhere near golden arches makes me a bit queasy to this day. I became a vegetarian again in my late twenties, but not as a conscious choice. I just woke up one day and realized i hadn't had meat in the better part of a year.
Of course, because a choice is organic doesn't mean that there aren't reasons.
I recognize that all animals are thinking, feeling beings, just like myself. Am i smarter than a pig? Probably. Is a pig smarter than a sparrow? Probably. But if we used superior intelligence as justification for consumption, i'd be entitled to eat Ann Coulter...and i'm pretty sure no one wants that (except perhaps Ann?). The past century has witnessed an inexorable change in our scientific attitude toward other animals. 100 years ago, the list of qualities which separated "man from beast" was much longer (no doubt in part a by-product of our need to absolve ourselves of exploitation guilt). A century of honest science has whittled that list down to almost nothing, a trend that shows no sign of stopping. Tool-making, problem-solving, non-procreative sex, complex vocalizations, adaptive culture, affection and devotion...we may have Shakespeare and the Superconducting Super Collider, but our basic animal nature is no more unique to us than a whorelike attitude toward celebrity endorsement is unique to actors. The idea that humans occupy some special place in the animal kingdom, thereby justifying a "superiority" that gives us license to treat other animals any way we please, is an idea that is fading away.
If we all had to kill the meat we ate, we would become an overwhelmingly vegetarian nation overnight. Yes, this says something about how little we do for ourselves in this too-comfy society...but it's also about growing awareness. Cattle are there for us to eat? Really? How long ago did white men think that black men were there to do the hard work, and black women were there to fuck? I'm not even concerned with invoking the living (and dying) conditions of our "livestock"...horrors so atrocious that they beggar comprehension. Upton Sinclair and Eric Schlosser have handled that well, but those points are superfluous to the ethical vegetarian argument.
16,000 children died of starvation yesterday. If it takes 2-6 pounds of grain to produce one pound of meat, how can any meat-eater avoid some measure of responsibility for those deaths? Some say that we have enough food, it's just not being distributed. Even if so, it would take an awful lot of rationalization for me to go on eating meat while the problem remains unfixed.
I've heard that within twenty years, all our meat will be harvested in laboratories, through some cloning process. An interesting thought, and perhaps a perplexing one for an ethical vegetarian...is it wrong to eat flesh which never had consciousness? But again, that question ignores the larger one: is it even natural or healthy for humans to eat meat and dairy? The argument that we don't have the digestive tract for it is compelling...as is the research that says that for the bulk of humanity's history, the largest staple of our diet was bugs. I've been both omnivore and herbivore, and must honestly say i never noticed any particular difference in how i felt. Certainly nothing that couldn't be attributed to psychological reasons.
But that's neither here nor there.
Most of the humans in this world who eat other animals do so simply because it's what they've been taught. The smart ones realize that maybe that's not a good enough reason.

Trek - Next Generation

2011-09-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION
1987-1994
It walked in the biggest TV shoes of all time, and was thoroughly...engaging.
SERIES EPISODE AVERAGE: 2.8 STARS
BY SEASON:
1) 2.6
2) 2.8
3) 3.0
4) 3.0
5) 3.0
6) 2.8
7) 2.5
FOUR-STAR EPISODES (season)
-The Outrageous Okona (2)
-The Measure of a Man (2)
-Q Who? (2)
-The Emissary (2)
-Deja Q (3)
-Yesterday's Enterprise (3)
-Sins of the Father (3)
-The Best of Both Worlds, pt. 1 (3)
-Family (4)
-Reunion (4)
-In Theory (4)
-Redemption, pt. 1 (4)
-Redemption, pt. 2 (5)
-Disaster (5)
-Conundrum (5)
-Cause and Effect (5)
-The First Duty (5)
-The Inner Light (5)
-Relics (6)
-Chain of Command (6)
-Tapestry (6)
-Second Chances (6)
-Parallels (7)
-Lower Decks (7)
-All Good Things... (7)
PERFORMANCES (# of episodes)
-Patrick Stewart (Picard, 176) ****
PICARD-A-THON
-We'll Always Have Paris
-Captain's Holiday
-Family
-the ready room scene from GENERATIONS
-Lessons
-the Will ready room scene and climbing scene from "Bloodlines"
-Chain of Command
-the ready room scene from FIRST CONTACT
-All Good Things...
-Tapestry
-Jonathan Frakes (Will Riker, 176) ****
See http://unboughtsoul.blogspot.com/2010/04/maybe-those-are-muskets.html.
-Brent Spiner (Data, 175) ****
Why are we so moved by emotionless eyes? Is it perhaps our desire to be wildly free of our shells, a freedom which happened on more than one occasion for Mssrs. Spock and Data? Come to think of it, splicing this marathon with Spock's might be brilliant. This one's long. And worth every second.
DATATHON
-The Outrageous Okona
-The Measure of a Man
-The Ensigns of Command
-Brothers
-Hero Worship
-Data's Day
-In Theory
-Thine Own Self
-Michael Dorn (Worf, 173) ****
See http://unboughtsoul.blogspot.com/2011/09/deep-space-nine.html.
-Levar Burton (Geordi, 170) ****
Gay Jamaican or not, he's our Geordi.
GEORDI-A-THON
-Booby Trap
-The Enemy
-Galaxy's Child
-Aquiel
-the for-real bridge scene from INSURRECTION
DIRECTORLEVAR-A-THON
-Second Chances TNG
-Soldiers of the Empire DS9
-Timeless VOY
-First Flight STE
-Marina Sirtis (Troi, 166) ***
DEANNATHON
-The Price
-The Loss
-Man of the People
-Inside Man VOY
-Gates McFadden (Beverly, 153) ***
-Wil Wheaton (Wesley, 67) ****
Any wisecracks? We'll step outside.
WESLEY-A-THON
-The Dauphin
-the Tasha scene in "Symbiosis"
-Menage a Troi (fast-forwarding permissible)
-Final Mission
-The Game
-The First Duty
-Colm Meaney (O'Brien, 52) ***
-Denise Crosby (Tasha/Sela, 28) ****
YAR-A-THON
-The Naked Now
-Code of Honor
-Skin of Evil
-Legacy
-Yesterday's Enterprise
-Whoopi Goldberg (Guinan, 28) ****
-Diana Muldaur (Doctor Pulaski, 22) **
-Patty Yasutake (Nurse Alyssa, 16) **
-Michelle Forbes (Ro Laren, 9) ****
To be spiritually at peace is to dwell not on "what-ifs". But it does tantalize, to think about what might have happened if Michelle Forbes had accepted that first officer role on DS9...
RO-A-THON
-Ensign Ro
-Conundrum
-The Next Phase
-Preemptive Strike
-Rosalind Chao (Keiko, 8) **
-John de Lancie (Q, 8) ****
See http://unboughtsoul.blogspot.com/2011/10/voyager.html.
-Brian Bonsall (Alexander, 7) *
Kill me now.
-Majel Barrett (Lwaxana, 6) *
Fortunately i'm already dead, so i can't feel the pain. No, in all fairness, she persevered and eventually had tiny flashes of redemption.
-Dwight Shulz (Barclay, 5) ****
See http://unboughtsoul.blogspot.com/2011/10/voyager.html.
-Robert O'Reilly (Gowron, 5) ****
-Carel Struycken (Mr. Homn, 5) ****
Who doesn't love a little Mr. Homn?
-Andreas Katsulas (Tomalak, 4) ****
You find that man!
-Suzie Plakson (K'Eleyhr, 3) ****
-Tony Todd (Kurn, 3) ****
-Barbara March (Lursa, 3) ****
-Gwynyth Walsh (B'Etor, 3) ****
All them kling'ns get three episodes and four stars. It's in their contracts.
-Eric Menyuk (the traveler, 3) ****
-Jennifer Hetrick (Vash, 2) ****
-Charles Cooper (K'Mpec, 2) ****
LEFTOVERS-A-THON
-Disaster
-Cause and Effect
-Lower Decks

dysfunction

2011-09-21T15:20:00.000-07:00

The first (or at most, second) connotation that comes to mind when one hears the word "dysfunctional", is family dynamics. Apparently there are some dysfunctional families out there.
That was "understatement". Virtually every single family is one form or another of dysfunctional. How else could they be, in a society deficient in the most basic understanding of what makes for a healthy, balanced human being?
I came face to face with some heavy family dysfunctionality recently. Not the nuclear kind, though. It was a demonstration by two members of my family of an individual dysfunctionality acquired long before they married into our clan.
I was visiting with Mom and her husband. They just retired to Florida, and i had brought their car to them. My favorite aunt and her irrepressible husband live nearby. Unc is manic depressive. His manic side manifests in an obsession he's been living for at least a decade, dealing with how fucked American society is (please don't let the fact that he's obsessed persuade you that he's wrong). He only listens to foreign news services, has a collection of 600 documentaries, and loses his sense of conversational appropriateness when he starts talking about politics...which occurs during most conversations. His ultimate windmill, his most cursed dragon? Neo-cons.
Auntie has been living with this for years, and has learned how to manage him with a good degree of success.
Mom has a horsband of an entirely different color. He has social phobias (please try not to jump to the conclusion that that's not a reasonable response to this world). He tries to be sociable when it's unavoidable, but avoids it when he can. This is most obvious come game time. He refuses to play (the one exception being trivia). There may also be some competitive issues driving this behavior.
These two men have styles of social interaction that are polar opposites. One confronts, the other hides. I've known these things for years, but had never come face to face with their most intense displays of dysfunctionality.
Then came the last night of my visit.
It started when i was with some friends. They have a child, Van, who thinks the world of me, and i'd gotten his hopes up about going on an adventure with me. I had already invited all my friends and family to dinner at Sweet Tomatoes on my final night, and thought it would be perfect to invite Van to play a game with me and Mom and Auntie afterward, a cherished board game from their youth called Gotta Go (it's about getting to the outhouse...no, really). I thought they would delight in it just as much as he. The day after i'd made the arrangements, Mom said that bringing a child into the presence of their husbands would never work. I'd assumed her husband would be fine by himself in the other room, and Unc had given indications that he might not even come. But she talked me out of my plan...which i thought seemed just so silly and sad.
It was sad - but not silly.
Van and his parents went their own way after dinner. My family had game night, just the five of us (or four, with Mom's better half in the other room). During the game, Mom's gaze fell on some stuffed mice in her cupboard, modeled after George Bush and John Kerry. In a brain fart of everestean proportions that i'll be busting her chops over for years, she became seized with the desire to show us that they both still talked, spouting their mousey political slogans of seven years ago. Within fifteen seconds, Unc was at a place i'd never seen him. He was so out of control with horror and rage, he'd lost the ability to speak. He sat there, wide-eyed and quivering with the strain. I knew what it was to look in the eyes of insanity.
All through the evening, Mom's hubby had been watching TV in the other room. Occasionally, we'd pull him into our conversations. When the party started breaking up...a moment when he knew the end was in sight and had every reason to start breathing easier...something in him snapped. Out of nowhere (but his damaged psyche), this most non-confrontational person you'll ever meet began angrily berating us to hasten the end of the evening.
I was amazed.
I wrote this article because there are probably very few of us who've never come face to face with dysfunctionality.
I'm not even getting into the dysfunctionality of monogamous nuclear families...for instance, why both my brothers shunned all family contact for years. Maybe someday when i understand that better, i'll write about it.
I write this because...this is who we are. These two human beings, this is who we are. It's not about chemical imbalances, or being an asshole. I'm not denying that my uncle has a chemical imbalance, i'm just reminding all of us that the difference between these two and someone "normal", is a difference so tiny as to be negligible. The only problem with an ever-more-refined psychotherapeutic classification system is that it encourages an "us/them" outlook, allowing us to turn a blind eye to the societal conditions that gave rise to these neuroses and pathologies. Look at the tapestry of your own life, and suddenly turn one cherished triumph into bitter rejection...or add someone who was never there, someone who acted out their own misery on you in the most horrible way imagineable...or imagine some accident taking away the dearest person you ever knew, or even your whole family...and the path of your life changes. Don't misunderstand...i'm not saying that misery or insanity hinge upon huge events. It's the subtle things woven into the very fabric of our society that predetermine the isolation and horror that we all live in.
But if you think that right now, as you read this, there's no way you could ever become the most wretched human alive...starving, alone...then you have no clue about how this life works.
You have good mental health?
You've never in your life met a human being with good mental health.
If you've been able to adapt to this life more successfully than the untold millions who are now "classifiable", i'm happy for you. But if you don't appreciate the lengths you've had to twist your spirit to be able to fit in, then i'm almost more sorry for you than i am for those people whose inner wounds long since got the best of them.
This is us.
And...
It'll get better.
Maybe i wrote this article to share a piece of information i learned today. New York is one of the three centers of the "cuddle party" movement in this country.
What's a cuddle party?
Exactly what it sounds like, knucklehead. If i describe it, you'll think my nonsensical imagination is in overdrive. So read this: http://www.cuddleparty.com/.
And smile.
The world is getting better.
Are you ready?

Next Generation, season 7

2011-09-19T12:42:00.000-07:00

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 3
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.5
The hands-down, shut-your-mouth worst season of TREK ever. With DS9 in production and VOY and GENERATIONS in pre-production, TNG was bleeding energy and writers. It ain't pretty.
-Descent, part 2 **
-Liaisons ***
-Interface **
Ben Vereen! Madge Sinclair (Aoleon, COMING TO AMERICA)!
-Gambit **
Robin Curtis (STAR TREK III, IV) deserved better. Richard Lynch finishes off the exquistitely rare BUCK/GALACTICA/TREK trifecta. Laker Hall of Famer James Worthy is the tallest klingon ever.
-Phantasms ***
Tight, creepy. Data has disturbing nightmare images that spill over into his waking life, causing him to stab Troi.
-Dark Page **
Is eleven year-old Kirsten Dunst adorable? Well, yes.
-Attached **
-Force of Nature ***
-Inheritance **
-Parallels ****
'Bout time somebody woke up! It starts slow, but builds to a second half full of fist-pumping and burst-out-loud laughter. Worf returns from a bat'leth tournament, and finds himself bouncing from timeline to timeline. He and Deanna are mated with offspring, and it's wonderful! Wesley's back! Naked Geordi is dead!
-The Pegasus ***
Just a follicle of plausability or performance from four stars. Riker's first captain, Admiral Pressman (Terry O'Quinn: LOST, THE STEPFATHER I-II), comes onboard on a mission to retrieve their lost vessel. They cat and mouse with romulans, with Will under orders to not tell Picard that Pegasus was fitted with a treaty-breaking experimental cloak.
-Homeward **
It's a DS9 preview, as Michael Dorn shares the screen with Penny Johnson (THE LARRY SANDERS SHOW). Paul Sorvino deserved better.
-Sub Rosa *
Fans of classic V will enjoy Duncan Regehr, as long as they don't mind doing so with jaws agape in disbelief. If you know someone who loves NEXT GEN but hasn't seen this one, i guarantee they will absolutely not believe that it isn't some practical joke created by a fan with too much time on his hands last Thursday. The only way for it to have been any bizarrer would have been for Beverly to get on a motorbike, jump a tank of naked Evel Knievels, and land in a threesome with Pinky and Leather Tuscadero. Note the "McFly" on the Scottish tombstone. I swear to you, if Ellen Dow (THE WEDDING SINGER) had started rapping from within her coffin, it would have fit right in.
-Lower Decks ****
This one is so bursting, you scratch your head trying to reconcile the fact that it's only forty-eight minutes. The action bounces between the senior staff as they try to slip a cardassian agent across the border, and a group of ensigns facing promotion time. The interactions within and between these groups are flawless. The central character is Sito (Shannon Fill, reprising her role from "The First Duty"), who faces harsh tests of character as Worf and Picard test her. Her death hits you with a force that is out of synch with her guest star status. Alyssa (Patty Yasutake) is finally rewarded for twelve episodes of light nursing duties, with a substantive part. Dan Gauthier hits the right notes as the overeager Lavelle. Bruce Beatty inhabits his role like he's been there for years, as civilian waiter Ben. Alexander Enberg (Vorik, VOYAGER) brings perfect balance to the group's chemistry.
-Thine Own Self ***
Data is collecting crashed radioactive fragments on a pre-warp planet, and loses his memory in an accident. He wanders into a village where they befriend him. As the locals fall sick, he races to cure them before their growing fear ends in tragedy. WALTONS fans, how about some Ronnie Clair Edwards?
-Masks **
-Eye of the Beholder ***
-Genesis ***
-Journey's End **
Wes's sendoff deserved better.
-Firstborn **
An episode with Lursa, B'Etor, and Armin Shimmerman deserved better.
-Bloodlines ***
In this continuing tale of ferengi revenge, there are two exquisite Stewart scenes.
-Emergence **
-Preemptive Strike **
-All Good Things... ****
Q, Tasha, O'Brien, and ol' Tomolak join the adventure as Picard slips between past, present, and future, while three Enterprises try to solve a riddle that endangers humanity's existence. It's tempting to ponder the nexus of this episode being a moral riddle instead...a path that might have been compelling from the standpoint of TREK being about humanity's ethical journey. But i suspect the right riddle (about the nature of existence) was chosen. This series finale is so satisfying that the closing moments fill you with a gentle rush of endorphins. As Picard at long last joins the poker game, one cannot imagine anything else so just right.

spider island and beyond...

2011-09-19T08:24:00.000-07:00

(I spent the past week visiting Ft. Myers, Florida, where i once lived. My mother just retired there. I've had one foot out New York's door the past couple years, dreaming of someplace warm and wet. With mother and aunt and friends there, my old home is tempting. It's hard to imagine living someplace so congested, conservative, and corporate, though. But in this country, finding a place that isn't at least two of those qualities is getting to be tricky.)

Eric and i loaded a cooler, and drove to Lover's Key State Park. We pulled his kayaks off the van, and slid into the water. I was wearing new aqua shoes and a Chinese wide-brimmed hat. I'd decided to avoid sunscreen for the rest of my life, adhering to the sentiment "Nothing ON my body that i wouldn't put IN my body". So i trotted out my new standard sunwear - long white garments of the lightest possible material. The messiah look. In this case, thrift stores had yielded cotton pants with a drawstring and an XL "Mallards Hockey Club" shirt. On my outfit's debut day, i went against my philosophy and agreed at Eric's wise urgings to put all-natural sunblock on face and ankles. With the reflection, being on the water is an extra-intense sun experience, and i was undeniably a pale northern boy.
We paddled to Mound Key, at 33 feet the highest peak in Lee County. It had been created by Native Americans. We were on the lookout for goats, being told that two of them were now kept there so the owners could get a farm subsidy.
Seeing no sign of human or Capra hircus, we swam and chatted for a while, then made our way inland (as inland as a 200-meter island would allow, anyway). I quickly came upon a maze of spider webs, each one a meter or more wide. At the center of each was a conspicuously large arachnid. Black and yellow argiope spiders. They didn't seem to care about us, so we continued on. I fell back, deciding that Eric's familiarity with the place made him the logical leader. The fact that there were hand-sized spiders everywhere had NOTHING to do with my choice.
After another fifteen feet, i noticed a swarm of insects gathering around Eric's pack. A couple of mosquitos had announced their presence around my own head, and i thought how awful it would be if that swarm were mosquitos, not the gnats or somesuch i assumed they were.
Oops. Upon closer inspection, they were mosquitos. We both started trotting, trying to lose our growing swarms. If you've ever tried to outrun a mosquito swarm, you may start laughing now. Eric pointed out a gopher tortoise hole that fascinated me (but not enough to slow down). We arrived at the peak, and had a moment of Chevy Chase VACATION Grand Canyon head-nodding, before we and our swarms turned tail. I barely spied an actual gopher tortoise, and called Eric back. The tortoise had bugs all over him too. We took in his beauty for four or five seconds before hurling ourselves down the trail, a la Indiana Jones in that spider/big boulder tunnel. We jumped into our kayaks and paddled to open water, our swarms happy to come along. It only took us a half mile to lose them.
Our next stop was a lovely mangrove island so tiny we didn't get out of our kayaks, but we idly paddled around it for a while, entranced by the manta rays that were drawn to it.
Our next stop brought us the most exotic wildlife of the day. We paddled through a beautiful inlet which gave us access to the Gulf side of one of the barrier islands. There we saw several specimens of pantless, floral-shirt wearing homo sapiens. There were no women in sight. Eric had told me that the unofficial boundaries of the nude beach in Lover's Key had been growing. Why the fashion of the day was a shirt with no pants, was never made clear.
We didn't copy the fashion, though. I was too pasty to consider it, and even if i hadn't been...well, i suspect the trace lingering elements of homophobia present in even very progressive heterosexual males such as us, would have stayed us from going au natural. Perhaps if it hadn't been just the two of us...but it didn't even occur to me, truly.
We swam in the Gulf of Mexico for a bit, then had a lovely lunch. After a dandy frisbee session, we packed up and hit the open water again. I was positive that i would have aching muscles and hand blisters from the day's exertions, but neither turned out to be the case...though i did come away with pretty harsh ankle/hand sunburns. Our final excitement came a mile or so later. I looked up from my paddling. I saw something twenty feet ahead, sticking out of the water and moving across our path. I saw that Eric didn't see. I then calmly said one word, for the first time in such a context in my life: "Fin". Eric, excited, tried to follow the shark. But it lazily dove away without a glance back.
A few hundred yards later, we pulled our kayaks back onto land, and headed home.

the animal commandments

2011-09-09T15:48:00.000-07:00

1) Thou shalt exalt no human animal above another.
2) Thou shalt exalt no human animal above other animal.
3) Thou shalt exalt no god above animal.
4) Thou shalt exalt no lover above friend.
5) Thou shalt not deny your food, your body, or anything else, to anyone who might need them...excepting when they are really, really annoying.
5a) Thou shalt not steal or murder (not a commandment, merely a consequence).

J

2011-09-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

WOMEN 35
One week before i was to move to New York, J began waitressing at a restaurant i was storytelling in. We made much eye contact our first night, and she agreed to play George Bush’s Arabian wife in a piece of street theater i was planning for my last Sunday morning Orpheus gig. It was a blast, and she and i proceeded to cram as much together-time into my last week as we could. She was trying to leave the party life behind, cutting down on drinking and stopping smoking. The first time we hugged, my eyes popped at how we molded together. We spent three or four nights kissing and cuddling. She revealed a damaged past, complete with a street rape at the age of fourteen. She enjoyed my kissing and nibbling her neck and shoulders, which surprised her...she couldn’t even enjoy oral sex, which blew my mind. She was Michigan-raised, of Mexican/Native American descent. She had a love/hate relationship with her family, the hate centering on domineering males. She missed her sisters and nieces, and cried talking of them. She had moved to Florida years before, with a boyfriend. She spoke of living the rest of her life in Bulgaria, or Michigan. I was happy to take things slowly. One night, she came to my place after an evening of drinking. The combination of fatigue and alcohol put her asleep immediately, snoring on her back in the center of the bed. I told myself that this was her one grace night, and that the next time i would roll her over. I let her be, put earplugs in, and slept upside-down so as to fit on the mattress. She was embarrassed the next day, but i was thrilled she'd been able to sleep so comfortably even while her subconscious knew i was there (okay okay, maybe she had to anesthetize herself to get to that place...but i'm ever the optimist). Another night i was sleeping nude when she arrived and made her way to bed in the darkness. In settling in, her hand brushed my penis. She was embarrassed, but laughed. I was eager to continue the relationship. I was already planning a return trip to FL, and she was going to visit me. The following month i sent two letters and received one, but contact was limited as she had no phone. When i visited FL, it took her a couple days to find the note i left on her porch. She'd started smoking again, and had started seeing someone after i'd left. She said it was already over with them, but from the way she said it i knew it wouldn’t take an act of god to get them back together. I was a little thrown, and we only spent one night together, during which i held but didn’t kiss her. She spoke of wanting to live in New York the coming summer, but her energy was far from centered. We were supposed to spend my last day together. I didn’t hear from her.

...videotape?

2011-09-08T15:00:00.000-07:00

THEATER 54
-fall 2000
(Note: to any copyright lawyers reading this, the following account is fictional, designed solely to romanticize my pathetic existence)
Previously at the Orpheus, i had been paying royalties (mostly), but now i intended to adapt a movie. As i didn't see any way to squeeze six or seven figures worth of royalties out of a $1000 budget, it was time to go guerilla. A staged version of the script didn't exist, so i did some streamlining and re-shaping. From the first time i'd seen the movie, the drifter with videotapes of women talking about their sex lives had been one of my dream roles. He hasn't been with a woman in years, and uses the tapes to get off. I cast Jim Hawley as my old college buddy, the philandering husband. I cast newcomer Melissa Williams as the philanderer's unfulfilled wife who falls for me. She was an incredible find, fun and funny, a veteran of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Newcomer Jennifer Weeg played her sister, who is having an affair with the philanderer. A local nurse, it was her acting debut. I was confident that all the talent around her wouldn't let her look bad. Adam Cornelius, a rolling stone newly-arrived in Lee County, played the wife's therapist. His talent was delightful, as was his personality (thoughtful, humblingly open, and funny). He assisted with the directing. For our final character, the bar dude, i was able to coax Shane out of retirement. He had never felt proud of his work in ODD COUPLE, and had resisted acting again. The part of the dude was just right. A few short scenes in which he hits on girls (sitting at the actual Orpheus bar, which audiences always loved), during which the rest of us ran the lights and sound. He was hysterical, coming up with impressions of a jawa and Michael Caine in ZULU ("Don't you throw those bloody spears at me!"). We went through several casting choices for the sister, but Jennifer ended up having just the right energy. Cast chemistry is an unpredictable thing, and i am amazed at how often we gelled in just the right way, occasionally in the face of adversity. I got Amanda into the show by having her record the voice of a woman being interviewed. She confided to me much later that she skipped the auditions because she thought the show was going to be bad, and that when she saw it, she realized how wrong she'd been. For me, it was a dream. Jim was wonderful as the cocky narcissist. He came up with a few lines of his own, all funny stuff. He developed a huge crush on Melissa, which i did my best to deflect while the show was running. Jennifer provided the Orpheus's second unscheduled live nudity, the night Jim grabbed her sheet, not realizing she was topless (sadly, i didn't see it myself). Working with Melissa was pretty sublime. She was so giving and sensitive. To be able to live my character was intensely amazing…as far as i know, that famous actor and i are the only ones to have ever played the part. Our edgy-loving Tony loved the production. By now, Mallous family tensions had been alleviated somewhat. Jimmy, the oldest brother, either loved you or hated you, often within the same week. He never left the kitchen, and called us "fucking gypsies" (eventually it became a term of endearment). I wished that the Cafe were able to feed my actors occasionally, but it was their first year, so i understood. We didn't sell out, but we had decent crowds who were happy. Hollywood lawyers never showed up to shut us down, which i had been dreading. Later that year, i did get a call. I told them what they needed to hear, and that was that. I'm sure it helped that we were the tiniest of operations. For the end-show song, i chose "Fa Fa", by little-known Guster. By our third week, it was such happiness to see the actors singing the song in post-show celebration.

14

2011-09-06T11:11:00.001-07:00

I had two heroes during my childhood.
My grandfather and Pete Rose.
Growing up a boy in an Ohio small town during the seventies, you were expected to have an opinion on which Cincinnati player was the best on the Big Red Machine. Seeing how many chose the bopper, Johnny Bench, i chose the scrapper: Charlie Hustle. I modeled myself on the guy with the dirty uniform, always giving everything. I suppose i may have already had an inkling that i was never going to be the biggest of the bunch, so the choice made sense in that sense too. As Cincinnati was on the other side of the state, i think i only ever saw the Reds play live once, but that hardly mattered. Pete's 44-game hitting streak in '78 had me glued to the paper...and no less so the day after the streak ended. The first sports poster to ever hang on my wall was #14.
I cried (well, not literally, boys didn't cry in our house) when Pete was traded to the Phillies in 1979. I was eleven. I went into a limbo, not wanting to be a Phillies fan (Dad's team!), but knowing i could never not root for Pete.
And then...a stroke that almost seemed like divine intervention, which cemented my boyhood affection forever. Six months after Pete was traded, Dad got a promotion necessitating a move to the Philadelphia suburbs.
I thought about the ways the move might affect my life...but my first thought wasn't about any of that.
Pete went to Philadelphia.
Me too.
His Philly years were great. The teams were bursting with personality. Dad took us to at least one or two games a year. We named one of our dogs, the best dog ever, after Pete. In 83', ex-Reds Joe Morgan and Tony Perez came to town. I wasn't a Phillie fan officially, but when they won the championship in 1980, Dad told me to get my trumpet. He got a pot and ladle. We took to the street, blowing and banging.
When Pete was traded to the Expos in 1984, i was sixteen and discovering creative passions that were far more exciting than sports had ever been. I was still sad though, not imagining i'd be moving to Montreal. When he returned to Cincinnati later that year to be player-manager, i was delighted...he was back home. I happily followed his final three seasons as a player. My memory is hazy, but i remember being keenly aware of his .300 lifetime batting average being endangered. It may have even dropped to .299 for a week or two. I almost wanted him to retire, rather than risk sub-.300. When he dropped the "player" from "player/manager", i continued to follow the Reds. In 1988, i acquired one of the most cherished possessions of my life. A couple years before, my father had met hall of famer Stan Musial on an airplane, and they ended up having drinks together when they landed. Stan sent four signed baseballs to us, one for each of the kids. Remembering that the NL career hits record had belonged to Musial before Pete, i thought how amazing it would be to have both of their signatures on the same ball. During my sophomore year of college, Paul Kleba, one of my dorm buddies, told me he was going to a Phillies/Reds game, and would be seated near the field. He told me he could get Pete's signature on my ball. I happily trusted him, and got more than i bargained for. The ball that returned to me had signatures from Musial and Rose...and Johnny Bench.
And......
Shane Rawley.
Paul said that Rawley was standing with them when it was signed, and offered to sign too. How do you say no to a major leaguer, he said?
I love that ball, and somehow i love Shane Rawley too.
Then in 1989, darkness fell on Pete's career.
Fired as manager.
Banned from baseball for life.
For betting on the game. The implicated sin was that he bet on Cincinnati while managing them. Was i at least allowed to assume he bet on them to win?
I remember not being particularly outraged. I didn't say anything against him, nor did i rush to his defense. I didn't feel particularly compelled to have the "truth" revealed. Strange reaction for a high holy advocate of honesty. Even now, i wonder why it wasn't handled differently. Why wasn't he given the chance to quietly resign, with an unspoken lifetime ban? Pete's banishment dragged the sport down as much as his own reputation.
But then, it's possible that just such an arrangement was offered, and arrogantly rejected.
As for the debate over whether he belongs in the Hall of Fame...i hesitate to come down hard on either side of that issue. It turns my stomach to think that steroid users will be elected, yet without doubt some already have. It's hard to imagine anything Pete might have done that doesn't pale in comparison. But...if we were to place his actions on another manager, say Tommy Lasorda, i'd swiftly support a lifetime ban. Take it one step further however, to propose that Lasorda had a separate Hall-worthy career as a player, and i'd have a hard time justifying his ineligibility.
These days, when Dad asks whether i'd like to visit the Hall with him, i tell him i'll not set foot there until Pete's in. Is part of the reason my growing apathy toward spectator sports as a grownup? Sure. But there's truth there too.
I'm just someone who had a boyhood hero. Might i not like that hero in person? Of course. But that's beside the point.
The point is that in my own hall of memories, he'll never be banished.
He'll always be in some corner of my spirit.
Hustling.

Star Trek, season 3

2011-09-05T06:53:00.000-07:00

(Don't buy into the notion that this season is sub-par. There were clunkers, but Gene's team was still in place, and there are episodes of absolute brilliance.)

FOUR-STAR EPISODES: 5
AVERAGE EPISODE RATING: 2.8
-Spock's Brain **
Brain and brain, what is brain?! Not as bad as its reputation, despite the fact that Shatner, Kelley, and Doohan have trashed it. Their point is taken, but i think they have the wrong attitude. This episode should occupy a unique place in the TREK universe, as a gateway. When introducing a child to TREK, it's a nifty idea to start with the animated series, then have their first "real" episode be this one. Don't tell them what's coming, it will blow their little minds. That's the right vibe for this..."deliteful" TREK. It's fun, exciting, and a little scary. They took his brain! A rejected draft had the aliens stealing Kirk's mojo.
-The Enterprise Incident ****
An edgy Kirk orders Enterprise into the neutral zone, where it is quickly surrounded. He and Spock transport onto a romulan ship, where Kirk has a mental breakdown. Spock agrees to hand over Enterprise in exchange for crew amnesty. Audiciousness and unpredictability do battle with gaping plot holes, but what puts it over the top is the first female captain in TREK history, a romulan (Joanne Linville). They circumvented studio sexism by making her a "bad guy". Her counter-seductions with Spock are tantalizing, and later sense of betrayal quite poignant.
-The Paradise Syndrome ***
A genuinely touching tale with a theme TREK would return to, the duty-bound captain tasting a carefree life of love and family that is ever-denied him. Kirk falls into an obelisk, loses his memory, and is treated like a god by a pre-agricultural culture. He marries the gentle Miramanee (Sabrina Scharf, EASY RIDER), and is happy, perhaps for the first time in his life. Miramanee dies, carrying his child.
-And the Children Shall Lead *
Enterprise rescues children from a colony where the adults killed themselves. The kids take over, empowered by an "evil alien" (cue the ELO?). The writer is a regressive sexist who thinks that a woman's greatest fear is (or ought be) losing her looks. The kids do a hocus-whammy gesture that's MST-ready, and the "good vs. evil" vibe is better suited to lesser sci fi, like that Lucas hexology. Look for Brian Tochi (SPACE ACADEMY, REVENGE OF THE NERDS, TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES).
-Is There in Truth No Beauty? **
Tedious and derivative (Spock is damaged by neglecting to wear his visor, Enterprise is hurled past the galaxy's edge...), but the speech he gives about corporeal isolation as he's experiencing the medusan's emotions, is quite touching. And strange shades of Geordi...a blind person able to "see" through technology, and she happens to wear a visor. Starring Diana Muldaur (TNG's Dr. Pulaski).
-Spectre of the Gun ****
As punishment for trespassing, the Malkotians trap Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and Chekov in a recreation of the gunfight at the OK Corral. The rest of the town sees them as the Clanton/McLaury gang, and they seem helpless to avoid the death that is stalking them. A beautiful example of a budget restriction making a better product. Originally slated to be shot on location, the studio setting with intentionally incomplete sets lends a spooky feel. The guest stars, particularly the Earps and Doc Holliday, are absolutely eerie and all deserving of mention.
-Day of the Dove ***
An alien presence that feeds on hatred traps humans and klingons, gives them primitive weapons, and heals all their wounds. But TREK's development of the klingons wasn't ready...they were still only tentative shadows of bloodthirsty warriors. Michael Ansara (Kane, BUCK ROGERS) is Kang, a worthy enemy. And Chekov's almost-rape of a klingon woman ain't nothing. The only classic TREK episode that could be made a million times better today (no no no...you leave Kirk vs. the gorn alone, some things are sacred).
-For the World is Hollow, and I have Touched the Sky ***
-The Tholian Web ***
It moves along at a four-star pace until a seam bursts. Enterprise is becoming trapped in a tholian energy web, waiting for Kirk's re-emergence from subspace. Brilliant visuals inside the ill-fated Defiant (which returns along with the tholians in STE's "In a Mirror, Darkly").
-Plato's Stepchildren ***
An object lesson in how hard achieving four stars is. This episode is exquisite in so many ways...the writing by Meyer Dolinsky is graceful, the acting compelling, the visuals beautiful. People who left Earth at the time of Plato, and achieved immortality and telekinesis on an alien planet, abduct Kirk, Spock, and McCoy for entertainment and medicine. Nimoy sings, laughs, and cries. Kirk acts like a horse. The dwarf Alexander (poignantly rendered by Michael Dunn) is the buffoon who ends up showing more heart than any of them. Barbara Babcock (HILL STREET BLUES, DR. QUINN) gives a beautiful, heartless performance. And of course, the first interracial kiss in television history. Wonderful.
-Wink of an Eye **
-The Empath **
-Elaan of Troyius **
Compelling and flawed. Enterprise is assigned to transport an arrogant Elasian (France Nuyen - SOUTH PACIFIC, THE JOY LUCK CLUB) to Troyius, where she will marry their leader and bring peace. The Troyian ambassador (the unforgettably unctious Jay Robinson - THE ROBE, BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA) assigned to prepare her thinks she's a barbarian, and gets knifed for his trouble. Kirk hammers at her about duty and table manners, returns slap for slap, and wouldn'cha know...they have sex! The message? Strong women long to be "broken" and spanked.
-Whom Gods Destroy ***
Four stars is tempting, for big heapings of scene-chewing and sexiness. Kirk and Spock deliver new drugs to a prison for the criminally insane, but the asylum is taken over by inmate and former legendary Federation captain Garth (Steve Ihnat, giving a superlative, nuanced performance). Eye-popping and poignant is Yvonne Craig (Batgirl!) as an orion inmate. Not great TREK, but great entertainment.
-Let That Be Your Last Battlefield ****
Bele. Lokai. Lokai. Bele...Gorshin!!! Iconic. TREK's finest moment? What, racism too hot a topic for network TV? Let's just see what Roddenberry has to say about that. Frank (The Riddler) and Lou Antonio play oppositely-duochromatic aliens who have pursued each other with consuming hatred for 50,000 years. They hijack Enterprise, only to find that racial hatred left their planet lifeless millenia ago.
-The Mark of Gideon ***
-That Which Survives **
Painfully written in spots...but Lee Meriwether (Catwoman!) continues the season 3 Batman-a-thon!
-The Lights of Zetar **
-Requiem for Methusalah ***
Two worthy additions to the universe of TREK: Flint (James Daly), 6000 year-old hermit genius who was Brahms, Solomon, and da Vinci (hmm, don't recall Janeway's holo-leonardo looking like...), and Reyna (Louise Sorel, AIRPLANE II), genius android unaware of her own reality. The episode can be seen as an unintentionally brilliant metaphor for monogamy...an innocent dies when the two she loves demand she choose one or the other.
-The Way to Eden ***
When you think "1969", many images come to mind, none of which have anything to do with STAR TREK. But the American zeitgeist of 1969 bursts into flower (ahem), in a way that's kinda glorious. Really. How can "hippies take over Enterprise" be anything other than a disaster? Just let it flow, daddy-o. Led by the enigmatic, insane genius Sevrin (Skip Homeier), a band of hippies seeking a technology-free life are arrested by Enterprise for stealing a starship. Totally flower-childed out in dress and speech, they buddy up to the crew before taking over. Guess which crewmember knows their secret handshake? C'mon, guess. Spock. No, really. He admires their quest, and has a jam session with them. No, really. He has a conversation with Sevrin which is subtly, exquisitely written. He bonds with one of the followers (Charles Napier - THE BLUES BROTHERS, AUSTIN POWERS), who turns this episode into the only TREK musical. No, really. It all ends in disaster, but it's beautiful, because not for one second does the writing pander.
-The Cloud Minders ***
Workers, lay down your chains, the Star Trek union train's a-comin'! A repressed working class agitates on an "idyllic" planet. Like any good union film, the climax is a dirty mess in a mine shaft. Jeff Corey (BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID) is spot-on as the indignant oppressor. His disturbingly sexy daughter (Diana Ewing) develops a bad case of Spock-crush.
-The Savage Curtain ****
A burst of TREK wonderment. A rock-based life form kidnaps Kirk and Spock, to study good and evil. It conjures figures from their minds, to engage with them in battle. On the side of good, Abraham Lincoln (a lovely performance by Lee Bergere, BOB&CAROL&TED&ALICE) and Surak (consummately rendered by Barry Atwater). The dialogue between Spock and Surak is so tight it hums, and is the perfect antidote to later writers and actors who didn't do vulcan well. On the side of evil, Kahless, another Khan (Gengis!), Col. Green of the eugenics wars, and Zora Neale Hurston. Hmm. Brilliant, at every turn.
-All Our Yesterdays ****
One of the few TREK episodes to take you a place of emotional bleakness, and leave you there. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam down to a pre-warp planet facing the death of its sun. The sole apparent survivor is a time portal librarian (the wonderful Ian Wolfe - REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE, THX 1138) who has ushered every member of his race into the past. They accidentally go through. Kirk is jailed in an era of pre-industrial witchhunting (where Johnny Haymer of M*A*S*H is a guard). Spock and McCoy fall into a prehistoric ice age, populated only by Zarabeth (Mariette Hartley, Polaroid immortal), a political exilee from the future. Spock finds himself reverting to the vulcan barbarism of 6000 years before, claiming Zarabeth and almost killing McCoy. The chemistry between the lovers is so real, your spirit tears as they realize that leaving would kill her. Don't watch this one if you're alone and sad. A breathtaking, elevated science fiction meditation.
-Turnabout Intruder *
Somewhere in this worst classic episode of all time, there was a good idea. Gene no doubt intended this to be TREK's great feminist moment. The plot revolves around the idea that in Enterprise's time, no woman would ever be considered for the post of starship captain. Talk about hoisted by one's own petard...instead of pricking the conscience, it just comes off as painful to even consider the idea that this could be a part of humanity's future. It's easy to say that four decades later, but i suspect this one has been making people wince since the 70s. It also flogs the idea that jilted women go insane. Lost in the mess is the funniest vulcan neck pinch ever (compliments of redshirt John Boyer), and Jimmy Doohan's best scene ever.

game

2011-09-03T11:55:00.000-07:00

This is what i wear
So this is what you owe me
Other people see
Pretty girls, they blow me

Look at this face
Yeah, that's my own hair
Look at this ass
Men stick tongues in there

What, you wouldn't love me
Without this money and power?
What, you wouldn't love me
If i wasn't such a flower?

Don't give me that crap
My boys here will stomp you
Don't be holier-than-thou
If you could, you'd do like i do

It's a crappy world
But we're on top
And damn sure gonna stay

I get her beauty
I get his money
And you, you just can't play

Star Trek animated

2011-09-02T12:26:00.001-07:00

(May we dispense with the notion of this series being "non-canonical"? The actors, writers, and other members of the original creative team were still onboard. It's a treat for adult fans, and the perfect way for a young fan to start the journey...)

-Beyond the Farthest Star ***
-Yesteryear ****
Through an accident with the Guardian of Time, Spock's adult existence is eliminated from history. He realizes that a "cousin" who saved his life as a youth was actually himself. Mark Lenard returns to voice Sarek.
-One of Our Planets is Missing ***
-The Lorelei Signal ***
A signal from a mysterious planet puts all the men in a dreamlike state. The landing party is captured by a race of beautiful woman (all blonde...hmm), and are slowly drained of their life force. Metaphor department, cleanup in aisle one! The female crewmembers proceed to kick asstrogen.
-More Tribbles, More Troubles ***
Cyrano Jones (Stanley Adams) is back, this time with oversized tribbles.
-The Survivor ***
-The Infinite Vulcan ***
-The Magicks of Megas-Tu **
Guest starring as Asmodeus? Ed Bishop of UFO. A sci fi fanboy dream.
-Once Upon a Planet ***
-Mudd's Passion ***
Harry Mudd (Roger C. Carmel) is back, hawking magic love crystals. Spock falls in love with Chapel. It teeters on the border of camp, but ends up being pretty hysterical.
-The Terratin Incident ***
-The Time Trap ****
Members of every race in the known galaxy have created a benevolent utopia inside an inescapable Bermuda's Triangle. Enterprise and a klingon cruiser get pulled in.
-The Ambergris Element ***
-The Slaver Weapon ***
Written by Larry Niven, a fascinating bauble for his fans, as Spock, Sulu, and Uhura face off against kzinti. The only Kirkless classic TREK.
-The Eye of the Beholder ***
-The Jihad ***
-The Pirates of Orion ***
A fun jaunt, as orions steal medicine needed to save Spock's life. It teeters on the brink of seeming (and looking) like they're not even talking about the already-established orions, but comes back from the brink with some fascinating stuff about the suicidal lengths they'll go to preserve their neutrality.
-Bem ***
Say hello to one of the most squirelly characters in TREK lore...Bem. An observer from an alien race, he insists his way into a dangerous away mission, and proceeds make surreptitious mayhem, thanks to his unknown abilities as a disassembleable colony creature. For a while, he comes off as a thousand times hipper than ol' J.T. Kirk.
-The Practical Joker ***
Kirk is a jerk! Eluding romulans, Enterprise passes through an energy field that makes the ship's computer play non-stop practical jokes (no picky questions, just go with it). The highlight is when McCoy, Uhura, and Sulu get trapped on the "rec deck" (or holodeck...the very first TREK appearance thereof).
-Albatross ***
-How Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth *
GNDN. I suppose a little de-canonization is okay...
-The Counter-Clock Incident ****
That...was...wild. With original captain Robert April onboard, Enterprise tries to intercept a ship heading for a nova at warp 36. They're pulled into an opposite universe, where everyone starts aging backwards. Surrounded by infants, April, his wife, and Spock save them all. If you've never heard George Takei do an impression of a teenage George Takei, you've never heard funny.

the good apes

2011-08-31T14:41:00.000-07:00

Be a good ape
Make every child your own
Be a good ape
A stranger in no one's home

Be a good ape
Possessiveness only impedes it
Be a good ape
Make love to whoever needs it

Be a good ape
Giving without thinking
Be a good ape
No fighting, no drinking

Be a good ape
Let women lead the way
Be a good ape
It's time for you to play

unboughtsoul

...But Me

Star Trek guest stars

not-ends 18

M*A*S*H, season 6

elisabeth

The God Buffet

waiting...

polite genital kiss

The Offhand Club

Hand of the Almighty

Double Fantasy Stripped

Tales of the Gold Monkey

Voyage to the Bottom of the Lost World

the search...

pain's whisper

Lexx, season 1

prostitute

holiday culture wars

virgin virgin virgin...

black dream

The Larry Sanders Show

press conference

Starhunter

the knicker wars

cyber-crickets

Mark, Luke, John

Buried Child

Galactica '03

Galactica, season 4

Galactica, season 3

Galactica, season 2

The Time Tunnel

Earth: Final Conflict

cyber-dating 101

Trek's greatest episodes

UGH!

beedom

Turn Away

new yorkers

bug-eyed

Andromeda

Farscape

Vanessa

Drinking in Fort Myers Beach

M*A*S*H, season 5

dear almeria 2

compatibility calculus

What the...?

monmatpar

dear almeria

lithium eyes

untoned

found

The Revenge of Khan

dear N 2

dear parents

Dear N

N

paradise pool

Star Trek's flaws

Matthew

Speed-the-Plow

gadget quiz!

not-ends 17

Trekathon!

Star Trek

Yanksockies

Voyager

new yorkers

Voyager, season 7

black hair

yoko's lost verse

M*A*S*H, season 4

"Coach"

Deep Space Nine

10

Deep Space Nine, season 7

vegemerrian

Trek - Next Generation

MAS*H, season 6

MAS*H, season 5

MAS*H, season 4