Originally known for his global hit ‘You Spin Me Round’, 80s electro-pop icon Pete Burns is now more famous for his love of plastic surgery and brutal telling-it-like-it-is attitude. After his appearance on Celebrity Big Brother, his career was re-launched and primed for success. But within months of finishing the show, Burns would see his world unravel, finding him fighting bankruptcy, his boyfriend and the legal system. After several arrests for threatening and violent behaviour involving incidents with his then estranged boyfriend, he was jailed for two months for breaking bail conditions. This documentary follows Burns from his first day of release, when he is ordered by the courts to reside with an unknown obsessive fan responsible for bailing him out, to the gradual process of picking up the pieces of his shattered life.
Oh my god. The skanky-ass laundromat two blocks from my apartment just put in Maximum Force/Area 51. I am overcome.
As luck would have it, the other night the resident Ms. Pac-Man-savant at my local Ethiopian joint, Asmara, had been casually enjoying a cocktail while wiping his 50th screen clean. We couldn't ask the master to relinquish his seat, nor would we dare sit across from him at the Ms. Pac-Man table. My girl suggested we hit the laundromat for stand-up arcade Pac-action. Grudgingly, I acquiesced. But then, we saw it! The holy grail of video games.
Our gasps of pleasure were so audible we attracted the attention of resident homeless man reading the paper, who assured me the game had been there for some time. As if -- I think I would have smelled the powerups from my second floor abode.
My goal now is to fill it with enough quarters so that it stays in my neighborhood forever, or I can afford to buy my very own arcade version. And I am not above getting twinked by some rich online benefactor with a soft spot for poor girls who love smoking aliens and terrorists. Just putting that out there.
Denying serious problems do not make them less apparent, nor protect people from the unpleasantness (okay, maybe it does protect some dimwits) or make the government look better, or whatever the motivation is; in fact, denial insults every American, especially those who have "low food security" or loved ones dying every day in that l'il skirmish we started in Iraq, and makes us look like idiots to the rest of the world. It also does nothing to get on any right track to solving these problems.
I do not need to explain why I say things. - That's the interesting thing about being the President. - Maybe somebody needs to explain to me why they say something, but I don't feel like I owe anybody an explanation.
Sad thing is, most won't, or can't, care or demand an explanation. Too busy working ourselves to death in order to pay off our massive houses, cars, and debts to realize the significance. Who has time to feel bad about HUNGER or CHAOS, much less be outraged or have empathy?
An in-law who will remain unnamed once said after my husband and I had a particularly heated political discussion with her husband that she couldn't understand how anyone can pay attention to all these political issues. All she can think about is what she's going to wear that day. Yep. At least she was honest.
Another in-law reamed me for working for the Global Fund for Women, saying he thought it was bullshit that we gave grants to women's groups in other countries when he had been working hard his whole life to be his own boss and never asked for a "handout." He said he'd love to change places with these women, in order to get "free money."
I would love to see him trade places with a woman working in a brothel in Thailand, and see him work it with that so-called handout to attempt to organize his fellow workers so that they didn't have to worry about being beaten when they request that their customers use a condom. Oooh, or maybe he would rather get a bigger grant to support a girl's school in Afghanistan -- I'm sure risking his life every day so girls can learn how to read and write is a lot less stressful and much less important than installing satellite dishes. He deserves a vacation -- and woo-hoo, don't forget all that free money! Dumbass.
I love my country, but I fear my government, and my in-laws.
But, going out on the positive -- a partially wind-powered skyscraper, eh? Hoo boy, it may turn out to be super ugly, but just like the comfort shoes of the 1960's came before the beauty of Cydwoq and Dansko, we've got to start somewhere to do something good for our collective health.
My friend Sarah Hobstetter is having an art opening this Sunday at Sweet Adeline in Berkeley, 5 to 7 PM. Her man will also be spinning a soul set, and I hear there will be wine, and brownies! All are welcome for some of the best things in life. See you there...
Mr. "Runs the red light 10 seconds after it has already turned red because the people in front of him are already blocking the cross traffic, so 'why the hell not?'" -- get off your bloody phone, put both hands on the wheel, and watch ME crossing the street. Good thing I don't rely blindly on the attention spans of drivers like you or else you'd owe me a new pair of legs and your firstborn.
Ever notice that my posts during the workday tend toward the more political and/or bitching slant? And the posts on my days off/in the evening tend toward the more sensual lovely aspects of life, e.g. art, music? Or they are completely spur of the moment inanity (see 24 ounce cups of tea). I've got to learn to be less predictable.
Please. Divisive of a subdivision? A sign of Satan? How about petty hacks power-tripping on contrived leadership, religious zealots, war-mongers, and people afraid of speaking up -- all with more time than brains -- as a sign of evil or divisiveness? Oh my god, help the disadvantaged or lead a prayer group or something, sheesh.
This story is preposterous, yes, and would be amusing even, if it wasn't so chilling and a possible omen of the future of a nation living in fear (2084, anyone?). Call me paranoid, but this is how everything starts, small and seemingly innocent.
When the Nazis came for the communists, I remained silent; I was not a communist.
When they locked up the social democrats, I remained silent; I was not a social democrat.
When they came for the trade unionists, I did not speak out; I was not a trade unionist.
When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out.
Prop 83 was flawed from the beginning anyway -- the GPS tracking BS was bunk to begin with (see Mr. Niemoller's words above), the school/park thing plays on fear rather than reality and the desperate need for more frank discussions in school (and at home) about sex and sexual predators, and it gives a woeful peek into the failures of our probationary system. This proposition also burdens rural areas with more than their share of possible sexual predators. Now they want to change it AFTER it was voted into law? Unbelievable.
Leave it to a reactionary populace to vote this prop in and the Cali government to try to serve up this additional unconstitutional and super shady horseshit after the fact. And I'll bet you most will still say it smells and tastes like strawberries. Goo.
Look at this ginormous 24 ounce tea I bought today. And yes, revel in my homemade David J t-shirt (graphic stolen from the talented Mr. Hallis).
I don't think one can fully appreciate this coffee cup's straight up ridiculousness unless you are holding it in your very own hand. I went to breakfast with Trevor today and I kept seeing it in my peripheral vision and it would startle me, and then I would stare at it. I'm simple that way. I'm sending this photo to my friend in Japan. I think she may have a small stroke.
NP: Skinny Puppy, Addiction (KMFDM remix). They don't make 'em like they used to.
Also, I finally "officially" picked up some of The Flaming Lips. I know I'm not saying anything new here, but Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots is a fucking brilliant record.
As I said earlier, the holidays are officially "on." What better day than Black Friday, or Buy Nothing Day, to give thanks for what you have, plan your charitable giving, and spend some energy on things that matter most?
December 1st is World AIDS Day. Here are a couple of really good promotions going on to help support Youth AIDS:
1. Kiehl's is donating 100 percent of sales of their delicious grapefruit hand and body cleanser to Youth AIDS. This is a great gift for Secret Santas or the hostess of the party you're attending or the house you are staying at for the holidays. I certainly wouldn't sniff disapprovingly at it either *wink*
2. If you're on MySpace, when you add 3 Needles as a friend before December 1st, 10 cents will be donated to the Youth AIDS Africa project. A free and painless way to do your part to not only raise some funds but get this critically acclaimed movie about the global AIDS crisis on everyone's radar, and get people talking.
If you're starting to think about tax season, and write-offs, or you just like to give a little back, here are some of my official endorsements for your hard-earned charitable donations:
I worked here, I know the tireless women and men who work here, I know their courageous and fearless grantees, their dedicated international board, their loyal supporters. I know the good work this organization does for women's rights around the globe. Committed, positive, and passionate, GFW consistently invests over 3/4 of their funds into programs, above and beyond what is encouraged by such charity watchdogs as Charity Navigator; this year, they have invested over 80 percent toward programs, and have received 4 stars, the highest rating from Charity Navigator, for the fourth year in a row. Donate to the Global Fund for Women.
I usually like to support small community-based environmental organizations, because I feel the most good is done to support your community first as a building block in a healthy environmental foundation, but longtime international healthy oceans advocate Greenpeace gets my vote this year because of the diversity of their programs, their commitment to nonviolence, and their support of people working to educate the public with scientific fact about the state of our oceans -- this article is why they are getting my support this year. Donate to Greenpeace.
I've been an admirer of UCS for some time. UCS merges scientific study with citizen action to work toward environmental stability and sustainability. Sharing their findings about everything from the benefits of organic food to the feasibility of renewable energy sources with the public, media, and governments, township to federal, has made them a well-respected environmental advocate in government policy. I also love their commitment to education -- making environmental awareness both realistic and easy to understand -- as well as their passion for removing the imposed hierarchy between scientific and "layperson" advocacy. Donate to Union of Concerned Scientists.
These are the charitable organizations I have committed to supporting this year, and I encourage you to check them out. But I would also love to get recommendations for charitable giving from anyone who reads this blog. Whatever you decide to support financially or spiritually, the most important thing this holiday season, and always, is to remember those who are less fortunate, and those organizations that are working to make our communities and our world a better place.
I just picked up David J 's hard to find collaboration with Weimar Bauhaus poet and artist Rene Halkett, Nothing/Armour, for a fraction of what I have seen this 7" go for at auction. How this happened, I do not know.
I also found David's collaboration with Alan Moore, the V for Vendetta EP, on vinyl, which I have been looking for forever and thought I would never get for less than $150. Very very wrong, I was, and very very pleasantly surprised.
I'm still sort of in shock, having thought I would never get my hands on these rare records together for less than a plane ticket from Cali to NYC. And never EVER for less than a good sushi dinner date. Unbelievable.
Ah, V for Vendetta. Brilliant graphic novel, brilliant EP. Most know a film was made, but many do not know that David recently reissuedV for Vendetta on CD, with a new song, "Song From the Kitty Kat Keller," as well as a previously unreleased demo for the centerpiece song, "This Vicious Cabaret".
They say that there's a broken light for every heart on Broadway. They say that life's a game, then they take the board away. They give you masks and costumes and an outline of the story Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret...
For those of you unfamiliar, this is the song in V for Vendetta that sums up the story to a point and gives us V's view of the fascist England of the novel. The music David created that brought "This Vicious Cabaret" to life, and David's fervent delivery of Moore's lyrics, is in a word, flawless. If I didn't know how negatively Moore felt about the film, I would still be shocked that this song was left out of the film version. So, even if you aren't able to pick up the original vinyl version with the illustrated lyrics insert (both absolutely MINT as the day they were pressed/printed -- squee!) then be sure to pick up David's reissue on CD. Well worth it even to simply have this song.
Oh, and I almost forgot -- in my rabid ebaying in the last week or so, I also stumbled upon a flexidisc version of David and Alex Green's (Jazz Butcher) collaboration with Moore, The Sinister Ducks. In 1983, they released a now quite rare 7" -- "March of the Sinister Ducks" ; the flexidisc of the song, however, I did not know existed. It was inserted into a comic book released in 1988, Critters #23.
I do not have this 7", and I do not dare dream I will find it, ever. It is the third in the rare trinity of David J-related vinyl this J-otaku has been searching high and low for. So, at this juncture, the score was now 2 down, and 7" of improbability to go. With the discovery of this comic/flexidisc, I was excited at the prospect of a fakeout on my collection.
Some dude had apparently been listing this comic for some time on ebay ("F-VF condition with only light and barely noticeable cover wear, and the flexidisc is detached but in excellent condition, and carefully bagged separately") and when I found it I lamented the listing price of $24.99 ("Buy it Now" for $40!!!) and decided, no way. Then, duh! -- a simple goog of the comic steered me over to an online comic site where I picked it up, NM and flexidisc attached, for $5!
Fakeout, schmakeout. I say, there's room for that elusive 7" should it fall into my hands, but for me I am now officially 3 of 3. Yeah!
Those last two posts were so lazy! Cool shit, but damn, I was lazy. You deserve better. Apologies.
In my defense, however, I am in the middle of bringing on a new database for tracking our clients and volunteers at work, and we are also in the throes of end of year fundraising. Plus, it is officially ON with the holidays. I haven't even been keeping up with emailing my friends, and I haven't cleaned my house for a month. Cut a girl some slack! Feel my pain!
To top it all off, since T-money is almost done with school for the semester, I am officially a Warcraft widow again. Nice! Actually, that's not so true. I'm more of a Warcraft wife, not quite a widow. Trevor still spends more time with me than he does online. BTW, he just offered to buy me a special chair and a new computer if I join him as a warrior for the WoW. As if.
Exciting news, my best friend is coming to visit this weekend, and we are going dancing and to the Asian Art Museum. Have you ever looked at the San Francisco Asian Art Museum site? Gah, they have sponsored advertisement links, and it looks so trashy. Give my people something classy, monkeys!
I was hoping the manga exhibit I was hearing so much about when the T spoke on a manga panel a couple of months ago would be up, but alas, it looks like Summer 2007. Hard to believe, but I only make it over to these bastions of San Francisco culture like the AAM and the MOMA like once a year, so I guess I know when my official visitation dates for 2007 are falling under.
So back to this weekend -- along with the dancing and museuming, we will probably also go to the local vegan macrobiotic cafe because my girl's been teaching yoga and eating kale for two months, and you gots to ease back into filthy pork quesadillas and Lanesplitter Heartstopper pizza again. Okay, if ever, because she thinks she's finally going to be a veg. So, anyway, everything there is steamed and whole grain, which is all fine and good and how I eat very often, but I like my steamed and whole grain flavored with a little bacon. And I hate paying for food that I could prep with minimal effort and for pennies. But, she loves it, so, yep.
Oh hey, my friend Jon has committed mine the the hubby's images to canvas. You can see it on his site. We're in his illustration section -- guess who?
Finally, my man has just informed me of Marvel Zombies vs. Army of Darkness. Clever, these original zombie comics, and like any red-blooded nerd-girl I love Army of Darkness, but this newest incarnation, ehhhhhh. Why don't they quit while they're ahead? I've got to agree with Trevor and heave out a big ol' sigh
Now, grow some cojones, Dems, salvage what's left of our country, our coffers, our civil rights, and (y)our global reputation, and make some sweet love to the world instead of raping it with war, greed, insolence, and fear.
Oooh, I know, tough job. I feel you. Okay, I'd be satisfied if you just grew some cojones. Grow 'em right and the rest will come.
One of the most important reasons for living is to do something - live outside of yourself and put together an idea, an idea that you want to explore and then complete... Awaken your creative sensitivities!
Jack Palance, February 18, 1919 – November 10, 2006.
What a renaissance man, Jack Palance. Born to coal-mining, Ukrainian immigrant parents, he was a coal miner, football star, boxer, soldier, journalist, then actor. Contrary to his tough-guy image, Mr. Palance was a vegetarian and a painter, spoke six languages, and was a poet t'boot. And damn, the man did those legendary one armed pushups at the Oscars at the age of 72. They don't make them like that anymore. I hope I live and go out like he did. He breathed pure life!
Once when he was working on a western in my tiny wild west hometown (as seen in Pale Rider, Little House on the Prairie, Lonesome Dove, etc, etc.) when I was just a babe, story has it he crossed the little road that separates the State Park from my parents' street and walked down toward my parents' house. My dad was sitting on the back porch and saw our Doberman, Sheba, run out into the street and give a growl that my dad knew meant business. Lo and behold, Sheba had cornered Jack Palance against our neighbors' fence.
Dad said Sheba had a particular dislike that she reserved for a few for Mr. Palance, but he also said that was most likely because he was in western costume and was huge. My dad is a big fan of Mr. Palance, but all he could think was, "please don't bite a movie-star!" Mr. Palance was not bitten, and of course, being a non-movie-star type of movie-star (listen up and take notes, Sienna), had no beef with our dog or my dad. A good actor, he was, but a better man.
Whoa. Looking at Heather Locklear's gigantic eyeballs was freaking me out. Not my norm to post every day, but sheesh, gotta give y'all a break from the orbs.
I gots to give it up to The Dashkins for making me smile today with this little number. Yes, sweets, even though I refuse to have a MySpace, I still can't break myself of lurking.
I love this kind of stuff. I am always thinking to myself that I want to be the kind of person who doesn't just think about doing things like this, or think about jumping in the back of Mini Cooper with two yuppies in it, illegally parked in the taxi zone, waving a fifty and yelling, "Oakland airport, and step on it" -- I want to DO those silly things to snap people out of their day to day. Fabulously absurd.
BTW, that's one of the coolest things about Japan. Anywhere you go and try to interact on a meaningful level with non-jaded Tokyoites is an adventure in absurdity that I always like to imagine becomes a great story that person you intereact with is telling their family when they get home. True, it might well be, "This dumbass American tried to speak Japanese with me today" but most people are so shy, especially about English, and so helpful and polite (when cornered) and never have the opportunity to speak with a foreigner whatsoever that when you do corner them and start in with your mutilated Japanglish, it becomes a completely surreal experience on both ends. We're jaded to foreigners in the metropolises of the United States, but in homogenous and xenophobic Japan, you are the bizarre but totally fascinating monkey, and many Japanese are equally fascinating in their interactions with you.
Once Trevor and I were standing in Shibuya Station debating if we wanted to go home or to Shinjuku to get something to eat when a tiny Japanese woman in a black business suit swooped up to us, chattering in mile-a-minute nearly perfect English, asking us if we were lost and if we needed help. She was like a whirlwind, and before we knew what was happening she was buying our tickets to Shinjuku and telling us where the entrance was and when the next train was arriving and then walking away -- again, in the most flawless, textbook English ever. She never looked at us in our faces, and I honestly cannot to this day tell you what she looked like. Trevor and I stood there stupidly, blown away not only by someone so kind to come up to what looked like two lost tourists (tattooed even!) and help them out, but by the hurricane force that this woman was. After we got on the train we wondered to each other how long she had watched us, getting up the courage to approach us, then nervously and hurriedly flying through her English studies and running away before we could even thank her. Surreal.
I guess this would also be a good time to mention the kind-looking man who came upon us at sunup in Roppongi who, upon finding out our friend Alex was German, did the Nazi salute and said "sieg heil" before smiling and walking away. Surreal.
Another time we took our friend to MOS Burger. Now, our friend is a big boy, and a MOS Burger setto is, well, on the smallish side. Like, 8 french fries to an order small. We ordered our meals, and our friend is like, yeah, it's good, but what the fuck is this tiny thing? So he goes up and orders 5 more burgers. 5 more burgers! The staff was shocked, and I'll bet someone is still telling that story when the subject of giant foreigners comes up. Again, surreal, man -- on both ends.
My favorite MOS Burger slogan is "hamburger, my life." Can't get any more surreal than that.
Just so you know, MOS Burger is quite possibly heaven on earth. In fact, if I could have one of these right now, I might cry with joy. I'm not kidding.
Aww, and look at this puffy Japanese toast and weak-ass coffee offering. Even this, the bane of all hearty bread and hearty coffee lovers everywhere, makes me a little verklempt. Why must Japan be so expensive to visit, and I be so poor?
OMG, finally. I don't pretend to be high-falutin'. I dropped a class in college because it interfered with Melrose Place. I am so on Team Locklear because of my girl Amanda Woodward. Heather Locklear taught me how to be a woman. I get all misty-eyed just thinking about it.
But WTF is this?
A companion? Who needs a companion? Kimberly, Sydney, Michael, Jane, Alison, Billy, Jake, Jo, Matt, Peter Burns and frikken Amanda Woodward, yo. Catfights, crazy bitches, a plethora of power suits and girlvests and overalls, man-stealing, scoundrels, a complete waste of a gay character (this was the 90s), insane yuppies, villianry most foul, and the supreme manslut known as Michael Mancini. That is all you need to know. Let it just be. Do not pick it apart like some eager first-year lit student sicced on Chaucer. Its allure is that it is Melrose, not brain surgery.
Ooops, sorry Kimberly Shaw. That was insensitive. Don't get mad. You my girl, after Amanda.
At the Halloween party I attended at Mr. Stich's house, I was flabbergasted when I learned that the household of pop culture that he lives in was populated by people who had not yet seen The Juggernaut Bitch! Shame.
Oh Charles, he got in my heeeeead!
So here's where I brain dump, so I don't beat the shit out of you, Charles. Or beat the shit out of you with Charles!
I also LOATHE this horseshit. Yay, another hole in one for our ridiculously abysmal infant mortality rate. You should be proud, Charlie Norwood, R-GA. Denying healthcare to people who are not only citizens, but who will be here no matter what you do, because their parents are trying to make a better life for their KIDS, not only denies them a basic human right, but sets them up for failure, if not death. And if their parents are illegal and in low-wage or dangerous jobs that may expose them to sickness, pesticides, etc.? Who gets exposed to that as well, and then exposed to your kids in school? At the very least, think about the health of our country as a whole.
Oh, wait that's part of the plan, isn't it? Let's keep them sick or kill them off, and then we'll work on kicking the ones who live out of school, and keeping them uneducated, at a later date. The natural progression.
Gag. How do these people look at themselves in the mirror?
Female writers have always been in the vanguard of the graffiti movement, though often shunted to the sidelines by their male counterparts. This exhaustive volume places them front and center, featuring 1,000 full-color illustrations from some of the world's most prominent artists, including Brazil's Nina, Japan's Sasu, Mexico's Peste, and the Americans Lady Pink, Swoon, and Miss 17. Two eight-page fold-out collages, a fold-out poster jacket, and an authoritative text round out the impressive package. The first and only comprehensive survey of its kind.
The creations chronicled in this book range from simple to simply divine. Amazing skill and feminist positivity abound. Check it out!
I just bought the 7" single of John Cale's "Rosegarden Funeral of Sores" today. Or rather, "Mercenaries (Ready for War)" and the B-side is Rosegarden. I'd never before heard the original, just the Bauhaus version. I have to say, wow!
I like both versions for different reasons. Cale's is magnetically subtle musically (except for that insistent bassline that is the sex), but also growling and dangerous. I can see why Bauhaus was drawn to cover it -- it's a wide expanse of different possibilities.
Bauhaus' is more epic and glam throughout, and has white hot heat. Daniel Ash's guitarwork is phenomenal, like a saw buzzing through your head. And while frequent sine qua non subject David J kept the bass straight up Cale for Bauhaus' version, I definitely like the consistent slide he's added to the live Bauhaus incarnations of their version as of late. Hot.
NorCali foothills, baby -- born and bred. I'm mysterious, yet so fresh and so clean clean, and darkly handsome, yet brightly colored. My blood-filled, flesh-covered friends think I'm an upright gal.
I'm haunted when the minutes drag...
I was lost in a valley of pleasure
I was lost in the infinite sea
I was lost and measure for measure
love spilled from the heart of me
I was lost and the cost
and the cost didn't matter to me
I was lost and the cost
was to be outside society