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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.
Ever walk through a big city on a Saturday or Sunday morning just after dawn in the spring?
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie
open unto the fields, and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. --Wordsworth, Sonnet upon Westminster Bridge
I have a 20 year old memory of one of those mornings. Wordsworth left out the freshly scrubbed and aftershaved scent of a prosperous man (silent, gray-suited) standing alone on the curb waiting for his car, or maybe just waiting for me to pass by, somewhere near the Carlyle. Smokeless air is great and all, but it's the memory of perfumed air that stays with me. Mixing as it did with the plant, flower and fresh earth smells that are only readily discernible in Manhattan at rare hours of rare days.
It gets better:
NEW YORK Feb. 5 'N Sync's JC Chasez unleashed a scathing indictment of the NFL on Thursday for yanking him from the Pro Bowl halftime show
...I have had a great relationship with the NFL in the past and feel that I have been mistreated," Chasez said.
...The 27-year-old pop star initially was to have performed "Some Girls (Dance With Women)," off his upcoming album, at halftime.
...The singer said in a statement that the NFL expressed concern over some of his lyrics and asked him to change his song choice to "Blowin' Me Up (With Her Love)" off the "Drumline" soundtrack.
That also proved problematic, because the latter song contains the words "horny" and "naughty," which Chasez said he reluctantly agreed to change. He was later removed from the halftime show entirely and replaced by hula dancers, drummers, conch shell blowers and local singers, who were to have been the pre-game entertainment.
Replaced, that is, by half-nekkid Polynesian women (dancing with each other, no less) and a wanton display of crustaceo-sexuality.
The good news:
... the NFL still wanted him to sing the national anthem.
A song which contains the word glare.
glare \Glare\, n. 1. A bright, dazzling light; splendor that dazzles the eyes; a confusing and bewildering light.
...3. A viscous, transparent substance. See Glair.
--Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary
Webster's lets us down by not providing us with an example this last usage of glare. Google found us several under the alternate spelling. Like this:
- Oh my God! Daniel cried, Oh my God!
Sabine was putting all her strength into her lower body and around Daniel's dick. In a matter of seconds, the largest orgasm of his life hit him with such a strength that, combined with the heat of the sauna and the exhaustion, he passed out, like a candle blown by the wind. Sabine released him and his body flopped on the floor, his huge dick now completely flaccid and covered with semen and glair.
Chasez has rightly declined to sing this star-spangled smut. This one time, anyway.
...Chasez said in his statement: "While I agree the mishap at the Super Bowl was a huge mistake, the NFL's shallow effort to portray my music as sexually indecent brings to mind another era when innocent artists were smeared with a broad brush by insecure but powerful people. That's not the America I love. Nor is this the NFL I love. I'll sing the national anthem anytime, anywhere, but not for this NFL."
I think Super Furry Animals are a critics band. I know they are Welsh. Sometimes the critics are right. The Welsh always are.
Their record Rings Around the World is very good. You hear the various influences (to pick one, the Beach Boys with Carl and Dennis in charge) and even a couple melodic, uh, borrowings, but there's no slavish recreation of any particular band or sound. Some very nice contemporary noise mixed in with the rockish rest.
Just a good, ambitious, sprawling record. So much sprawl that a second disc of cast-off songs was necessary.
I love ambition. And bonus material. Especially when something as excellent as Roman Road can be found among the scraps.
They've got a bunch of other records I've never heard, including one in Welsh called Mwng. Ask for it by name.
Unlike Janet, Michael Powell has only one tit. Also unlike Janet, his pokes out through his shirt collar, and he puts a tie around it. He likes to ornament it like Janet's, though.
Did I mention it talks?
"I am outraged at what I saw during the halftime show of the Super Bowl," the FCC chairman said in a statement. "Like millions of Americans, my family and I gathered around the television for a celebration. Instead, that celebration was tainted by a classless, crass and deplorable stunt. Our nation's children, parents and citizens deserve better."
...Powell said his unhappiness with the halftime show went beyond Jackson's exposure. It "wasn't even the most offensive part," the FCC chief said in an interview. "It was the finale of something that was offensive. The whole performance was onstage copulation." He added, "This really crossed a heinous line."
Neither the tiny $27,500 fines being considered by the FCC nor the 10X larger fines proposed in new legislation are close to sufficient to hold Viacom and MTV accountable. To achieve any sort of prospective deterrent effect, either some stations need to lose their licenses, or (preferably) high MTV or Viacom executives need to lose their jobs.
... The issue isn't nudity but the implicit endorsement of acting out male fantasies of violent and invasive non-consensual sexual behavior. ... Never mind the message it sends to international audiences--say young, angry Muslims, to pick a random example, who may have been wondering whether America really is immoral. ...
Let's just appoint angry, young Muslims to the FCC, Mickey. As long as you think the feds should be in the position to fire broadcast executives and shut down TV stations as punishment for prime time bodice rippage and nip slippage, and that the occasional bare right tit will light a fuse under the umah's younger set, how better to avoid the conflagration than by making the FCC an American outpost of international Mullah standards and practices?
Howard Dean, a physician and a Democratic presidential candidate, on Monday dismissed as "silly" a government inquiry into whether indecency rules were broken during the broadcast of the Super Bowl halftime show when pop diva Janet Jackson's bodice was ripped to expose her right breast.
"I find that to be a bit of a flap about nothing," the former Vermont governor said. "I'm probably affected in some ways by the fact that I'm a doctor, so it's not exactly an unusual phenomenon for me.
You probably want to avoid the word flap when commenting on breast controversies, but otherwise Dean shows himself here more suited to high public office than, say, Michael Powell.
And more friendly to the first amendment than, say, Mickey Kaus.
Concord Junior Song and Chorus Book (Boys and Girls) for Unison and Part Singing Grades VII, VIII, and IX Students' Edition Word and Voice Parts Only (E.C. Schirmer, 1928)
What were the kids singing as the roaring twenties headed straight for the wall?
I Have Lost My Eurydice (Gluck)
How can I live now she is gone?
Song of the Laborers Sun in heaven hasten home,
Let us have evening peace
Masters cruel, bid us labor,
Only evening brings release
Of Selim, Mighty, Great and Powerful Who loves him not, an ingrate he!
Glorious Apollo Wandring to find a temple for his praise
Sent Polyhymnia hither to shield us
While we ouselves such a structure raise
Rosebud of the Wildwood Spied a boy a rosebud rare,
Rosebud of the wildwood;
Fresh as dew and passing fair
You'll want to parse this last song as it was intended. The boy is looking, not being looked upon, the gazer not the gazee, the spier not the espied--sorry to say.
I prize the book especially for the penciled inscription atop the penultimate verse of Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.
Drop Dead You Drip, it reads, in an interesting mix of block and cursive.
A very hardworking panhandler told me a joke last night. He had an elaborate routine, a well-rehearsed rap and props, too. He deserved a buck for this joke except I'd just left the store and didn't have one to spare. And he didn't really tell the joke well. I'm going to turn it into a one minute mystery:
You go to K-Mart. As soon as you enter the store you feel something is out of the ordinary. At first you can't quite place it, something is different, strange, unusual, but what? Every aisle you walk down you see the same thing. This is more than coincidence, more than random chance allows for. Then in an instant it clicks, the vibes peak, and all the tell-tale signs point in one, and only one, direction, "Michael Jackson must have just been here!"
You're so struck with certainty in your lightning bolt conclusion that you can't help but say it out loud, to no one in particular. A woman loading her cart with Slimfast hears you and shakes her head yes saying, "you're right, he just left."
