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The Public Blogging of Pomosexuality, Homotextuality, Homophobiaphilia, and Drear Theory (aka Career Theory) [aka Gay4Pay]. We also read the Corner and OpJournal so the right buttock will be punished as well.
All comments subject to publication. Or dismissal. Or Both.
Pop situational (in both senses) lesbos t.A.T.u. (or whatever it is) will be signing their record and the odd field hockey stick at the mall this weekend. I like the song.
Attention Jive records: I have a feeling that a little open homo horseplay might help put a new boy band over and revive that genre, too. N' Sphync? A 5 member band called 6? B2Gay?
Friday, February 28, 2003
The least awful of Philly's two terrible alt. weeklies (terrible in the same way they all are from Montauk to Monterey--like left turn only model-kit mazebots, just more predictable and less life-like) had a recent cover story about a local jokey one-man-band punkish rocker named Atom and his Package. Never heard of him before, though he apparently has low thousands of fans around the world. You can't help but like him from the piece and while I don't have much (any) passion for funny punk, this lyric from his song Philadelphia is somewhere in the neighborhood of greatness.
I sit at Rittenhouse Park and see a guy from TimeCycle/ give the finger to a passing motorist and it kind of makes me smile./ It's the City of Brotherly Love/ and crime./ And we only bombed our own city once, one time
Father Francis Gera, a 64 year old priest who spent most of his career preaching to the faithful in the Pennsylvania coal regions but who was transferred in 1997 to the sand regions of Florida, posts a naked picture of himself to a gay dating page called Graygay.com. He signs himself Poppa Bear and writes he is looking for younger, TOP, slim-muscular men, 18-40 then includes his parish email address as the contact info. A parishoner sees the picture and alerts his bishop and a national watchdog group called the Roman Catholic Faithful, based in Illinois. When the matter doesn't appear to be getting swift enough attention, the RCF writes the bishop to tell him they are publishing the facts of the case at their website. They illustrate their story with the notorious picture, though they thoughtfully obscure Poppa Bear's honeypot with a blue blotch labeled CENSORED BY THE RCF. Shortly thereafter Father Gera's bishop relieves him of all his duties. The bishop's attorney writes the Roman Catholic Faithful with word of their mission accomplished and assures them that Gera is now forbidden from performing any priestly functions.
My god is this piece from the New Yorker about Joseph Cornell beautifully done. I hate to slight Deborah Solomon's biography of Cornell but these reflections are superior. You still need to go to Solomon for the sweep of Cornell's life (boy is sweep the wrong word, but I like the sound of it). If you want the look and feel of Cornell (Virginia P. has released the phrase back into the public domain) this is the place to go.
I first saw Cornell's boxes in a converted mansion gallery just off Central Park, somewhere in the east 60's I think. This would have been 4 or 5 years after Cornell died. The gallery was dark, luxurious and mostly empty on the late afternoon I was there, except for a friendly Dalmatian resting just inside the front door. If there was a more perfect setting for a display of Cornell glamorous mysteries I can't imagine it, the gallery itself was a Cornell box writ large. Pretty much ruined me for galleries and museums ever after.
And this essay is a Cornell box written down. A selection of its glittering contents:
He didn't long to go to France; he longed to build memorials to the feeling of wanting to go to France while riding the Third Avenue El. He preferred the ticket to the trip, the postcard to the place, the fragment to the whole. Cornell's boxes look like dreams to us, but the mind that made them was always wide awake.
Some American lives roll in mythical shapes—a Presidential aspirant gets born in a place called Hope, and a budding rhapsodic novelist is named after Francis Scott Key—and none more than Cornell's. He was born on Christmas Eve (in 1903), he was employed by a company named Whitman, he spent his life on Utopia Parkway. And Edward Hopper peered over his sister's shoulder, teaching her drawing as the young Cornell's grew.
As he said, memorably and simply, what he wanted in his art was "white magic," where Surrealism's was all black
He does not seem to have responded to visual art in the usual sense; his firsthand experience of art was mostly secondhand—books and prints and etchings seen on Fourth Avenue. In his diaries and letters, while he is knocked sideways by prints and poems and pies and sexy waitresses and melodies, I can't find a single occasion when he is overwhelmed by a painting, a unique visual thing in place.
The most important and most obvious influence, though, is surely the dominant visual experience of any city dweller in the past two hundred years: the shopwindow itself.
He called his best New York moments—when the cafeteria pie and the light in the window and the knowledge of having found the right old print on Fourth Avenue all came together—"sparkings," a "conspiracy of events to produce this miracle of grace."
There is, he saw, a kind of nostalgia that posits a world that never existed and a set of virtues never put into practice—the kind that idealizes the heroic forties, or the roaring twenties, or the fabulous fifties—and a kind that finds a bottomless melancholy in the simple desolation of life by time. The false kind of nostalgia promotes the superiority of life past; the true kind captures the sadness of life passing.
For all its sadness, there is still in Cornell's work the hum of a secure and many-chambered civilization, one that was roomy enough for Gérard De Nerval, so to speak, to dine on Boston cream pie, roomy enough for Cornell.
Adam Gopnik wrote the essay. He is Agenda Bender's dude of the day.
Joseph + Cornell is Agenda Bender's dude of the year for, hmmm must pick a year, 1949. Seems about right, don't know why.
Agenda Bender works so sporadically that seven working days could amount to year or more, but still this offer must be considered:
I AM BARRISTER SAMUEL BASSEY, LAWYER TO THE ABACHA'S FAMILY. YOU MIGHT HAVE HEARD A LOT OF THE CHANGES THAT IS CURRENTLY TAKING PLACE IN NIGERIA SINCE THE DEMISE OF MY CLIENT, THE LATE HEAD OF STATE, GENERAL SANI ABACHA
....ALSO BEAR IN MIND THAT THIS TRANSACTION WILL NOT TAKE MORE THAN SEVEN WORKING DAYS TO CONCLUDE ONCE YOU SIGNIFY YOUR FULL INTEREST, AND I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH THE NEED FOR TRUST AND CONFIDENTIALITY IN THIS BUSINESS.
I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR URGENT FAVOURABLE RESPONSE.
BARRISTER SAMUEL BASSEY
Our precious metals night trading desk replied:
Yes please, I will help. how's shirley?
Funny thing is, I reply to all of these multi-million dollar oppurtunities but a good half of my offers to help bounce back. As did this one. I'd like to think everyone's scamming Sam in return, but I have my doubts:
RCPT To: <<< 552 samuelbassey MAILBOX FULL
554 ... Service unavailable
The conflicting media spin on the results of the VaxGen HIV vaccine trials should have told anyone paying attention that something was basically amiss. Duelling press accounts described the trials either as a dismal failure or as an encouraging, partial success. The trials seem to me a clear failure. Vaxgen's CEO's characterization of these statitistically suspect findings as "a marvelous result" is a marvel in its own right.
Stumbled across this fascinating tidbit at the Smoking Gun . Stephen, the black guy from the Seattle season of the Real World-- the one who threw the schizzy chick's stuffed animal in the harbor after she told Stephen he was homosexual--that Stephen, was arrested on a prostitution charge in L.A. And later he was arrested for stealing a car, or as the complaint reads, he did unlawfully drive and take...a certain vehicle...without the consent of...said owner.
In the great legal tradition of superfluous slicing and dicing, the prostitution rap was in two parts. One charge for loitering with the intent to commit prostitution and a second charge for committing an act in furtherance of his solicitation to prostitute. To wit, he entered the vehicle of the party of the second part, the party by whom he been engaged to party in the comfort of aforesaid vehicle, and the party to whom he is alleged to have pledged attention to said party's subsidiary parts. He's lucky they didn't slap him with an additional charge of vehicular homosexuality.
So here we have poor Stephen arrested for taking a vehicle without the owner's consent and on another occasion arrested for entering a vehicle with the owner's consent. Perhaps Ce Ce Peniston said it best, Keep on Walking.
Depending on your Real World IQ this is either the startling next chapter to the tale of the famously conflicted and mostly dislikeable Stephen, or the most meaningless information you are likely to read today. Agenda Bender used to be a Real World polymath, but our devotion has fallen away to almost nothing in recent years and our Real World IQ with it. Still we retain some affection for, and remembrances of, Real World's past. We wish better things for Stephen in the real future.
Paul Varnell, founder of the Indie Gay Forum and writer of the only gay op-ed column that consistently explores ideas, was kind enough to put Agenda Bender on his personal e-mail list. Usually he's circulating an upcoming column and soliciting comments and factual correction. Today he sent the link to a story from the Hartford Courant about the New York City cop who lost his companion, a New York City fireman, on 9/11. I'm passing the link on since, though I've heard parts of this story, this is the first time I'd seen it all put together. It should be more widely known that it is.
One moment from the morning of 9/11. Both of the men find themselves on the lobby staircase of the North Tower, the cop on the way down with an injured woman, the fireman on the way up with his company:
During the six years they were together, Eddy had not engaged in public displays of affection or acknowledgements of their life together. When Coppola left after visiting Eddy at his firehouse, Eddy would lower his hand along his side and say "I love you" in sign language.
As Eddy headed for the stairs to begin his climb up the tower, he shouted to Coppola, "I love you." Coppola, startled, gave him the familiar sign. "Chicken," called Eddy, their final exchange as he ascended into the maelstrom. 4:20 AM
Monday, February 24, 2003
I Will Fall Asleep
More AOL mash notes. Is anybody saving the millions upon millions of AOL profiles and member homepages? I know they lie beyond the reach of Google's cache and probably the other web archives. They are in a sense a part of the dark web, the submerged internet which is supposed to be bigger (perhaps many times) than the readily accessible net. They aren't as segregated as proprietary content hidden behind corporate firewalls, you can get to any AOL homepage from anyplace else on the net, and the profiles are available to all AOL users so they're hardly exclusive, but you can only really find them if you already know about them, no general search engine can point you to them. Most are probably never seen by more than a handful of people. This is the real E-phemera. I guess the only hope is that AOL has kept copies of all them. But that doesn't seem like the kind of thing AOL would do.
Doesn't perpetuity need a record like this one and all the other snapshot self-portraits that include details sure to be lost otherwise:
I'm from somewhere in Asia ,I'm a easy and very small guy ,not handsome as you can see my picture but always honest with friends and especially I aslo always to respect all people who older than me
My Online Life
I want to meet some new friends
I like cooking very much ,I have learned to cook many delicious foods ,''Home Alone ,Brink ,Big Daddy ,Airbag are my favorite movies but the most is '' Queer as Folk'' ,like baseball ,football .I'm very lazy to read a book,sometime I try but I will fall asleep after read two or three pages but love watching and reading news .love country music .
You should know that this appeared under the picture of a very nice looking 25 year old Asian guy sitting on the front steps of a suburbanish house. It bugged me that he said he wasn't handsome so I wrote and asked why. He wrote back in English as delightful as that above to say that he had called himself cute in an earlier version of his homepage and that someone had taken the time to inform him that he wasn't good looking at all. He said he was so ashamed that he changed his page to forestall any criticism in the future. I think I convinced him to cut that part out and let the picture do the talking.