Holy F*#$ing S@%^!

Photo credit: Jim Cole/Associated Press

Or as my dear mater utters, "Holy Flocking Sump Pump!" Obama is going to be able to appoint a Supreme Court Justice. I wonder who? Well, all the guessing has probably already started and the Max Headrooms on the 24-hour news networks are squawking. Bye-bye Arlen Specter as top story. (Has anyone else noticed that Sen. Specter doesn't seem altogether with it? They really need senility tests for legislators.)

David Souter is stepping down. He's the Republican that turned liberal on George H.W. Bush (the first one that didn't break the world but couldn't tell you the price of milk). Wowsa! That is one of the coolest things you can do as a U.S. President. Long after your term is over, the Poobah you placed on the bench hands down rulings and writes decisions that only add to your presidential legacy.

I have to say one of my dream jobs is to be a judge, and, yes, a Supreme Court Justice. I grew up in a courthouse and my love for Judge Judy could never be swayed. It would mean that I would have to become a lawyer first. Yech. Those bastards usually loathe themselves--with good reasons, too. [Two good things about lawyers: 1) They're aware of how they besmirch the world, which is more than I can say about bankers. 2) They're more useful than bankers. Bankers are the scum of the earth, and I've been saying that LONG before this recession.] I don't know if I could survive the debasement of that existence. But, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

Now, if only Scalia took it in his head that he needs to spend more time with his family or Cheney. If that happens, I'll never say a bad thing again about Michelle Obama's taste in clothes. Lets face it: either her mama dresses her or she dresses to please Mama. Same diff. That inaugural coat? Two words: embellished lettuce.

I didn't know you could BeDazzle cabbage.

Maine Jumps In the Water But Doesn't Fear Shrinkage

"Hello, Maine!"

Marriage equality just sailed through the Maine Senate with a vote 20 to 15. Awesome. The bill heads to the sister House next. If it passes there, it goes up to the governor, John Baldacci (D). He hasn't been a fan of same-sex marriage, but has kept the barking to a minimum recently. I feel as if Maine is going to slip past NH and grab the number "5." We know NH is dicking around on the issue. That leaves Rhode Island. Once we have the Ocean State colored in, our New England family will be all set. NH will be the crazy bitch locked up in the attic, but what decent family doesn't have one? The trick is not to give her matches.

Fun Times

My modus operandi.

My superhero intuition.


Jenny Holzer
Walker Art Center
Minneapolis, MN

Stupid Dolly

That is the kind of stupid that will turn my head. Hot! Stupid! Straight Up Wrong! Let me jump on it. It reminds me of a morning at work. This particular job had a jumble of offices that stretched from a very busy thoroughfare in front to a dilapidated parking lot in back. Most of the place was dark, dank and hazardous to your long-term health.

The three oases from this filthy haze were the lobby, the front office, and my office. The door from the lobby would swing on a regular basis letting in fresh air to fight off the strong stank emanating from the nether pits. My office was only occupied by me. And, I clean up after my self. The other office piggies feared me and stayed the eff out.

The third oasis was the front office. This jobsite had day staff and night staff. The night grubsters generated the unholy filth that ruled the walls, floor and (Miles Davis help us) the air. The front office was for the day staff and their business. The grubsters sometimes trespassed but the sullying was limited to empty food containers. Because I had to use the office, too, the front office received regular tidying.

The best thing about this office was the floor-to-ceiling plate glass window that made up its fourth wall. Non-stop light and the soap opera on the street outside made up for the cramped quarters (four desks in a tiny space). I usually had the place to myself in the mornings.

This particular morning—and believe me it was before 10:00 a.m.—I was collecting and sorting the overnight faxes in the front office. And, a hard boy stumbled into view. He’s my father’s worst nightmare. Pale skin, muscles popping and rippling underneath a white tank, and baggy pants desperate to drop. Oh, don’t let me forget the beyond tacky gold chain—big and hefty—with a baseball cap on a tilt. It all adds up to WRONG.

And, he was stinko. He couldn’t walk straight, and he was brown-bagging the poison. Did I drop my eyes from horror? Hell, no. Mama watched dolly stagger by enjoying the show. He was rather amusing, and, well, hot. I’ve always liked stupid boys with hard bodies. I can’t bring them home for dinner, but that’s not why they’re here on Earth. Not by a long shot.

Mr. Stinko must have attracted someone else’s attention before my lusty eye tracked his bum stroll. A black-and-white pulls up, and two uniforms start asking him questions. Yeah, that didn’t go well. He started to mouth off and eventually resist. The uniforms had him slammed up on the car with the legs spread. He’s screaming and struggling. So stupid. Even hotter.

I don’t usually find Adrien Brody attractive. He’s been on my skeevy radar since that forced kiss with Halle at the Oscars. But, Brody is hitting that stupid dolly stroll just right.

Hugh Jackman Knows Best

Click on this link to be further charmed by Hugh Jackman. Try to ignore the unqualified "film reviewer" sitting opposite him, and focus on the real star who unequivocally states,

"I won't shrink my balls for a movie."

Are you listening New Hampshire legislators?

Four Yeas, 45 Nos, and a WTF?

Marriage is still only available to all in four states (MA, CT, IA, & VT), and "Say No Go" in 45 other ones.

And, then there is New Hampshire. I'll provide as clear an update as I can, but there's some kind of chicanery going down in the Granite State.

First, the NH House passed gay marriage in a bill...by one vote, I believe.

Then, the bill was submitted to the NH Senate. Here comes the foolishness. They have voted to allow gay civil marriages, but have left it up to the churches if they will issues licenses to same-sex marriages. I think they're saying that everyone is entitled to civil marriages and all the legal protections and benefits they provide. Everyone can cruise by the courthouse, and become Mr. & Mrs., Mr. & Mr. or Ms. & Ms. But, and it's a big but, churches decide if they want to recognize and conduct same-sex marriages. So, bigotry is legal when segregated to cathedrals and Mormon temples.

It's called splitting hairs. Shout out to all lawyers! It's also called shrinking balls. Shout out to gutless wonders!

Now, the bill will be re-submitted to the NH House. The House has these options: agree, kill the bill, or negotiate something different. The only way the bill goes to Governor Lynch is if the two legislative bodies agree on it. Mr. Lynch thinks marriage is defined by man and woman only. NH has already approved of civil unions (bad taste), and Lynch feels it's up to the federal government to recognize them in order to effect real change. W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R.

Trying to be objective, I can see that this could be a strategy to side-step objections of religious hardliners and pacify same-sex marriage proponents. Religious people can sleep at night knowing that gays and lesbians won't be getting married in their houses of worship. "Civil marriages" is an upgrade from "civil unions," y'all.

Harrrumph. This is what it sounds like to me: whole lotta bullshit. Think it all the way through. Gays and lesbians can "marry" each other as long as they don't do it in a church, because then it's not really marriage. They are still beneath the egotistical heterosexuals, and therefore it's not a moral crime to discriminate or perpetrate hate crimes against them.

So tricky, NH. So dicky, NH. My guess is that the bill will get killed in the NH House because those lawmakers seem to be fighting for marriage or bust. If it does pass and get past the governor, I will not recognize it as a clear victory for equality in marriage. It will be a giant WTF? for the mighty state of New Hampshire.

Best Songs Ever

I was cleaning some window fans in preparation of Boston's one-day heatwave, and I was cranking the tunes. Prince's "Kiss" came on, and I believe that could possibly be one of the best pop songs ever. Lyrics are killer, the singing is perfect, and the beats are so comely. Quickly after that, John Mellencamp's "Jack and Diane" come on, and I wondered if that could be considered as well. I'd have to have a battle between the two on my iTunes to declare a winner or a draw. I have "Kiss" but I'm missing the little ditty about two American kids growing up in the heartland. That debate has to go on the back burner. Meanwhile, more good music and memories crossed my path on the web.

Yesterday, EW.com published this exclusive video of Rivers Cuomo doing a live version of "El Scorcho." The tiny post that accompanies the video sort of articulates my feelings about Pinkerton. I wasn't a teenager though. Two memories about Weezer/Pinkerton.

I wanted Weezer on disc bad one holiday. I totally pleaded to have some off-beat rock under the tree. It was a gamble. My darling mother from Wisconsin totally missed out on the music revolution that was the 60s, and sort of jumped off after digging Elvis. She likes Pat Boone for jiminy's sake! So, yeah, anything Beatles and beyond is a mystery to this woman.

Plus, ofttimes the woman becomes befuddled in an American retail outlet. It's the dazzling array of shiny choices. She gets overwhelmed and shuts down. She grabs the closest thing to the register and wham! there's your gift. So, I was a bit nervous about entrusting Weezer to her. Remember, there was a band out there called Ween at the same time. Sure, I dug that weird daisies song, but I didn't want a whole album of it.

Anyhoo, my mom got it right. I unwrapped not just Pinkerton, but the Blue Album as well. I proceeded to lose my shit. I jumped up, screamed, and ran around the house like a wild thing. Yeah, I was in my 20s. But, I lost it. And, I proceeded to slip in the amazingness that WAS, IS, AND WILL FOREVER BE Pinkerton.

My mother marched into the music store in her navy cardigan, approached the clerk, and said her daughter wanted a band with a weird name that started with "W" and sang about Buddy Holly. Two Christmas miracle discs were instantly plucked from the rack by the magical mystery clerk: I imagine that his name was Trevor, wore polyester plaid pants, and had groomed a burly fu manchu. But he was probably named Dave, rocked a pot belly, and wore baggy black clothes.

And, I lived happily ever after in the brooding, yet upbeat, world of half-Japanese girls and unraveling sweaters. THAT IS FUCKING POETRY, Y'ALL!! That's what this music does to me. I morph into a Kanye-Britney hybrid while I write.

The second memory about Pinkerton would be my statement to an uber alt-boy (writes reviews, lead singer of band on a semi-obscure label) that it was the best album to come out of the 90s, period. I said it with such conviction, he did a double-take. He wanted to argue with me with every shred of his alt-rock-country-obscure being, but a heartless wench had just dumped him and he was too weary. Sometimes miracles do come out of a Jim Beam bottle.

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Forget About St. Peter, Just Send Bea Arthur

I don't need St. Peter to meet me at the gates. One, I'm not Catholic and saints don't impress me. Just send Maudie in a glorious pantsuit with cocktails. We'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the dish.

I don't have much use for Jezebel.com. I hesitate to call them feminists--they don't seem to have the balls, and they usually err on the side of "cutesy." But, they served up a good tribute to Bea Arthur, her characters, and their impact on pop culture. The clips are excellent, too. Another memoriam piece that was a cut above the rest was in the LA Times. They explained why we won't see another like Ms. Bea Arthur again. I would have loved to see Tina Fey go toe to toe with the Incomparable Maudie. That's the closest female comedic performer who might have had a chance against that baleful stare. Or, Amy Poehler.

Bea Arthur listed three influences on her career:

"Sid Caesar taught me the outrageous; (method acting guru) Lee Strasberg taught me what I call reality; and ('Threepenny Opera' star) Lotte Lenya, whom I adored, taught me economy.''


That's a hell of a gumbo. If I had to list three influences for myself, I would say #75, Muhammed Ali, and Madonna. Probably why I'm not in comedy.

I Can't Look Kentucky In The Eye, Y'all

Michael Crabtree, WR

After taking an afternoon to fully denigrate the spectacle of the NFL Draft, what did I do Saturday afternoon? I had NFL Network on the background as I sheared my dog. Yep, I totally watched the draft. After the first round, I regularly checked NFL.com, too. It wasn't just me. Apparently, 39 million other people who had nothing better to do (sad, very sad) tuned in as well. My sucky cable provider is about to cut me off from the NFL Network because Comcast are greedy bastards, so maybe, it was an onslaught of nostalgia that compelled me to dial up channel 265.

The Results:

1. Puppy dog looks like a stylish pony with a closely cropped body, but fluffy paws, ears and tail.

2. Damn! Michael Crabtree is good-looking. Watch out, Dhani Jones!

3. I hate the Patriots. And, so did the peanut gallery in Radio City Music Hall. Every time Patriot stats and facts would pop up, the crowd would fill the air with boos and acrimony. Suck it, Belichick.

4. Speaking of Radio City Music Hall, did they pay Rich Eisen each time he complimented the hall's beauty? If so, he's not worried about the recession anymore.

5. OK, maybe I watched the brouhaha on TV and the internet, but there's no way I'd ignore the splendors of NYC to sit there endlessly and watch the picks. So, I'm an nth better than the morons who did.

6. Favorite phrase of the event: "Punters are people, too!" Of course, they are. The point of contention is whether they're football players or not.

7. I'm seriously going to miss the NFL Network. They get the loosest and most genuine reactions from player interviews. Sometimes it's a bit creepy, but where else am I going to hear Deion Sanders call out Ray Lewis with "Su-gar! Su-gar! Tell me where did you get that suit." May Comcast rot in hell.

My sincerest apologies to Kentucky.

God will get you for that, Walter.

The amazingly talented Bea Arthur passed away today. Gulp. That lady could really deliver a line. She played Dorothy on the insanely popular "Golden Girls," but I loved her most as Maude. Television from the Seventies had the best theme songs, and one of the best was "And Then There's Maude" sung by Donny Hathaway. I busted out for that theme song. I loved how it name-checked famous ladies, and then encouraged you to yell out for Maude over and over.

I asked my mother once if she had any regrets about the way she raised me. She said the only thing she'd change is her constant attempt to mold me into ladylike and "quiet" behaviour. Looking back, she thought life would be easier for me if I learned how to curb my mouth and gentle my eyes. She says now that she was mistaken because 1) life is hard no matter what, so "go, girl, go" 2) I seem to be able to handle the consequences of being outspoken and 3) it was a futile mission from the get-go and she only garnered wrinkles and gray hairs for her trouble.

And, I am mouthy. Overriding my mother's priority on decorum, the power of feminine sass was given to me by the aunties, Florence Johnston, and then there was Maude! If you risked her displeasure, she would lovingly growl, "I'll rip your heart out." I wish I could bask in that growl one more time.


Maude was awesome, and that was due to the talent of Bea Arthur. She went on to play Dorothy and gained even more admirers. No doubt that show was hilarious, too, with the riposting between Dorothy and Ma; Dorothy and Herb; well, Dorothy and everybody. Another performance that is worthy of mention is Ms. Arthur in the film version of Mame playing Vera Charles, the original Patsy (get in line Joanna Lumley).

May she rest in peace.
With a never-ending pitcher of martinis.

Bea Arthur
May 13, 1922 - April 25, 2009

Kentucky & Me

Today is this year's NFL draft. And, I could care less.

The Reasons:

1) I'm female. I don't give a crap about statistics, except for my team's W/L column.
2) I'm a Steelers fan.
3) I got asked to parties in high school, so I didn't spend my Friday and Saturday nights pretending to be some fierce elf on a quest to save the kingdom.

This is just my opinion, which is an obnoxious combination of my loud mouth and gut instinct. I don't think the draft has fuck-all to do with winning football games, much less Super Bowls, but American men across the land are losing their minds while NFL teams make new hires.

Why? Well, there are the degenerate gamblers who somehow use this exercise in that pursuit of fruitlessness, Fantasy Football. Throw in the geeks who have outgrown Dungeons & Dragons, and have used the FF abomination as a "manly" substitute. Finally, it's a boy thing. I've found that men have a thing about numbers. They like to count things, memorize those totals, and then extrapolate from that point. Whoever draws up the most arcane stat from the fount of blather, well, that boy is King For A Day. (This tendency comes up in musical discussions, too. My guys will devote themselves to acquiring obscure references about their favorite bands, while I just want to know if my ass moves or not. Who gives a crap if some studio engineer wore horn-rimmed or wire frames? Did I thrill to the sound, or no? Dumb asses.)

Pittsburgh usually has a post-season. For the uninitiated, the crappiest teams in the league go first during draft selection. For example, the Detroit Lions sucked for 16 games (entire season!) in a row, so they have the dubious honor of first pick. I can see the appeal for teams and fans who need a morale boost and some PR opportunities. I don't think the Steelers have been desperate for talent since 1969 and we landed #75.

The only people who should be twisting their knickers are the top picks and their agents. The lower the pick number, the bigger the paycheck. And, maybe some bragging rights. But, the draft doesn't mean bulldinky in determining the future of your career in professional football. Ryan Leaf, anyone?

Ben Roethlisberger, #7, was the 11th pick in 1998. Two Super Bowl rings. James Harrison, #92, wasn't even drafted. I can't stand Tom Brady (douche extraordinaire), but I'll admit he's a very good QB. His number was #199. Brett Favre? He is definitely one of the greatest that played, possibly THE greatest at that position(Unitas and my Bradshaw are in the running for that debate...oops, forgot about Montana). He didn't even get picked in the FIRST ROUND. Nope, his fantastic behind wasn't picked up until the second round, and then he was the 33rd pick.

However, I'm in the minority about what a special and amazing thing that is the NFL draft. ESPN.com ran a poll asking "What is the best non-athletic event in sports?" ESPN only provided five options. (Their poll graphics are awesome, by the way. I love the maps, and numbers breakdown--eesh, that seems statistical.)

Baseball Hall of Fame inductions
College football national signing day
NBA draft
NCAA tournament selection
NFL draft

Um, where's tailgating? The opening ceremonies for the Olympics? And, why is it the baseball HOF, and not Canton? W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R. Given these paltry options, I selected "NCAA tournament selection." It's fun to watch the bubble teams or first-timers go nuts when their invitation appears. Way more fun than watching some puffed-up jock smile smugly while holding a jersey because he just got paid. Ugh. Or, watch Philly fans act like jackals no matter what their team does because it's all they know. But, that's just me and the state of Kentucky. According to the poll results map, the rest of America and the world believes that the NFL Draft verges on the Second Coming.



I realize that there were quite a few stats and modest facts thrown around this entry. However, I didn't cull them from the dark depths of my memory. I Googled them...just like a proper girl. There is only one football stat I bother to burn into my my mind.

SIX. AS IN SIX RINGS.
Eat it, Belichick.

"Dhani Jones Tackles the Globe" – It’s Not Like He’s a Raven

Dhani Jones Tackles the Globe, Travel Channel,
9 p.m. EST, Mondays

There’s a new travel show hosted by Dhani Jones, who plays for the Cincinatti Bengals. I had to slap up a few posts to distance this from my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers schedule so no bad Cinci mojo could eff up the Black & Gold.

No Bengals post-season required Dhani to tackle opponents; instead, he found time to meet, greet and eat his way across the globe. The upfront hook for this new travel show is our handsome host introduces himself and us to new cultures via sports. The backdoor hook that no one really addresses is that Dhani is a young, black male racking up the air miles, not your typical travel show host.

I know that was why I peeked in to watch it one Monday night on the Travel Channel. I first became aware of the show because of the promotion it’s receiving on NFL.com. The novelty was strong enough to make me show up, but Dhani’s engaging personality and the exposure to lesser-known sports (well, at least in the U.S.) made me stay.

The show is not perfect, and it could use some fine-tuning. I suggest dropping the segments that feature local cuisine and must-see tourist spots—the stuff you would see on any other travel show or read about in a guide. Dhani is at his best when being escorted by new friends to a local eatery and just having a good time. That set-up seems to produce more spontaneous moments and genuine reactions from Dhani and his hosts.

Dhani and friends in beautiful Basque country

My favorite episode so far was his trip to Basque country, which featured lots of socializing, food and wine. Up till then, I just kind of surfed on Dhani’s charm and good looks—have I mentioned that he’s fine?—but this sunny episode had the effect of making me do my own research online. I learned the area is home to Gehry’s Bilbao museum, and I think I’ll be able to scrounge up a few bottles of Txacoli (the sparkling libation that was poured throughout) for the summer.

The other aspect of the show that I like (besides Dhani’s propensity to undress) is the blog that Dhani uses to provide behind-the-scenes details. Again, the best entry is related to the Basque trip. Check out Dhani’s description of his diet:

Now you may look at me and say, "Oh boy, that's a big guy, he must really like to eat." But the truth of the matter is, I don't really like food at all. I'm telling you -- grapes, oatmeal raisin cookies, vanilla ice cream, Sprite and Twinkies are what this young man was raised on. No more, no less. My mother will attest to the fact that her son, Dhani Jones, although very big in size, eats like an anorexic schoolgirl. I know it's harsh but its true. Food is definitely not in his vocabulary.

After reading that, I understood his previous reactions to food. Not many football players, much less linebackers, are going to compare themselves to anorexic schoolgirls. His tongue is opened up to wonders of food in this episode.

Sometimes Mr. Jones gets repetitive in his choice of words. I never have to hear the word “Schwingen” again. As a poet, he needs to dig deeper for adjectives. However, I was impressed with his off-the-cuff couplet praising Ireland’s particular passion, hurling. When in doubt, the producers should just let Dhani be Dhani. Or, get him to strip. Hey! If he’s not afraid to do it, I’m not afraid to look.

Have mercy!

I don’t know how many more obscure sports they can find for him to sample, but he is a strong enough host to keep the show entertaining for two more seasons, I think. I’m waiting for the Mighty Opes to add this show as one of her favorite things. DVD release, anyone? I took a class on media, and we researched how black males are portrayed in American media. Bottom line, black men are either criminals and/or athletes in the media’s eye. OK, so Dhani is a professional jock. But, he’s not just a jock on this show. He’s an explorer, a poet, a lover, an eater, and a new friend. Who wouldn’t want to spend more time with someone like that? Plus, he doesn’t play for the Steelers, so I don’t have to worry about injuries and lack of focus.

Dhani Jones & Austin Healy, rugby star

Ladies! Next episode is in Australia
and requires watching burly men in skimpy suits.
My house, your vodka!

Aaawww! Baby Madonna

Photo: Dave Hogan/Getty Images

Because of some scandal flying 'round the blogs yesterday, I tripped over this photo. Look how young and happy she was!

Big sigh. Still more dreamer than schemer, and in the arms of a transvestite. Let's face it, THIS is her natural habitat. Makes me long for the Eighties. Then I check out that floral coat and remember the fashion crimes committed in the name of cocaine.

I'm definitely going to work out today and throw in the extended version of "Holiday." These 100 squats are for you, homegirl!

We're Not Here for the Plot...

I saw this photo of Hugh Jackman yesterday. Yowza! He's one of the reasons my mother keeps making the puzzled observation that Australia seem to steadily serve up charming, handsome men. That's her Midwestern way of saying that she's getting hot and bothered. Watch out, Jack McCoy! I think you're losing her. She then does a roll-call in a faraway voice (while I gag in the background):

"Hugh Jackman."


"Simon Baker. He's the only reason I watch that show."


"Russell Crowe...when he's not angry."

I think my mother is worried as the American response to this balls-out Aussie virility is Zac Efron. And, she can't stand his ass. Her words: "Not exactly fighting weight." This is from a demure woman from the suburbs of Milwaukee who prizes manners and intelligence over brawn. Even she knows to throw Efron back into the pond.

I definitely agree about LipGloss. I concur about Simon Baker. Sometimes his eyes are as warm as cookies just out of the oven...yummy. We differ in opinion over Russell. Russell is even better when feisty. I'm not afraid of a stallion who bucks at the bridle. And, Mr. Jackman? Hmmm.



I like how he fills out those pants. Have I heard the rumours? Yes. Do I care? No. My best friend and I will be in the theater for Wolverine after a few drinks, and we will not show up for the plot. Christoper Nolan take notes.

Buildin' On Up

Freelon Adjaye Bond/SmithGroup

The National Museum of African American History and Culture has taken another step forward to solidify their presence on the Washington Mall by selecting a design for their building. First, that is a mouthful of a name. I don't see a zippy acronym in there like MoMA, either. I suggest we just call it the Big Piece of the Pie. A collection of architects collaborated on the design. I'm just going to list them because I'm not sure of the proper credit order.

David Adjaye
Freelon Group
Davis Brody Bond
SmithGroup

If you click on the link above, you can see a visual of the museum with video clips from the designers and Lonnie Bunch, the director of the Big Piece of the Pie. I'm not in love with the design. It's a bit boring for black folk, in my opinion. We love ornamentation and we work pattern better than anyone on the planet. The bronze upper levels are supposed to be porous; therefore, people strolling the Mall should be able to see into the building and apparently, it will warmly glow at night. That last part appeals strongly to me, and I hope construction and materials will live up to the vision.


David Adjaye is African and a lauded starchitect. A previous project was Denver's Museum of Contemporary art. Adjaye has also done multiple private homes. Looking at his work, I can tell he tries to distinguish between public (transparency and invitations to enter) and private (walls, walls, walls--lookie-loos on the pavement not welcome!) space. I'm a bit surprised at this new design as it resembles his private structures more than the public ones (Google: Idea Store Adjaye). But, I'll wait to see it in person and in photos after the museum is completed. The bronze is the key. The bronze will help differentiate it from all the pale marble that dominates images of Washington D.C.'s institutions.


As for the "Corona" effect, and the upper levels resembling African sculpture--maybe. It's still too plain for me. And, it's still boxy. I don't know if you follow museums, but contemporary ones have been stuck in the "gleaming cube" rut for a while. I reside in Boston where we have a successful example of this style. I call it The Friendly Ice Cube, but it's mostly known as the Institute of Contemporary Art. It's worth a bus trip on our Sexy Silver Line, and it possesses one of the most glorious views of our harbour. The concert hall also has a wall of glass looking seaside, and it's a summery delight to listen to boundary-pushing music while watching the sun set as jets land at Logan and joggers trot past on their evening run.

ICA, Boston

The New Museum, New York

Another good example of this style would be the New Museum in New York. It's located on a street dominated by lighting shops and purveyors of kitchen equipment. Almost the entire building is wrapped in latticework that seems a tip of the hat to the ingenious fry-o-lators on sale next door. It's so L.E.S. And, the gorgeous view of the city on the roof doesn't hurt either. A bad example of the "gleaming cube" is the Bronx Museum.


While the cheeky New Museum fits in with its neighbors, the Bronx Museum does not. It looks like a sleek fortress from the street. Expanses of untouched metal siding must scream out to taggers to eff that sh*# up. If the museum trustees actually let that go down and offered up their pristine temple for some graffiti glory, I'd give them more marks. Instead, it looks like a group of Manhattan elitists took a giant aluminum poop on the sidewalk.


Ultimately, the building that will house the Big Piece of the Pie isn't strictly a cube, and probably won't gleam. The design doesn't exactly shatter the mold though. I still think some use of repetitive shapes would have been nice. African weavers can rock the house, so there's a wealth of inspiration from which to draw. I can't wait to see the building in person.

Kuba cloth, from the W. Norton Grubb Collection

Best Movies of 2008? #3

Quick Round Up:

Ghost Town –
There are some very nice beats in this comedy starring Ricky Gervais, but I’d rather watch Run, Fat Boy, Run. Point to Mr. Pegg in that battle of bitchy English comics, even though it’s Dylan Moran who makes Fat Boy funny. Best movie of 2008? Nope. ★★★

“Do you realize how close you are to me going on holiday?”

This is how you do sloppy hair, Bobby Patz!

Let the Right One In –
People are praising this sucker up and down, but I was underwhelmed. I saw it with the most atrocious dubbing, and I couldn’t get past that. The lousy reading of the lines (that was not acting I heard) combined with slow pacing got me aggravated. I was ready to start slapping white people to get right again.

However, I did think the boy playing Oskar did a remarkable job. I liked the styling of the movie as well, and I thought it was an interesting take on the vampire tale. So, I’d be willing to go watch it again—but I would need subtitles and the original voices, not the story as read by RoboKat after a purification ritual.

Best movie of 2008? No. Jury’s still out until I see the un-dubbed version. ★★★

Two States In Play -- New York and New Hampshire

Two states who could potentially become numbers five and six in spreading equality in marriage are New York and New Hampshire.


Gov. Paterson of New York believes a same-sex marriage bill can be pushed through NY's state legislature. Welcome to the party, NY. I can't believe you have to follow Connecticut (home of insurance companies and boring sweater sets) and Iowa, but better late than never.


New Hampshire's governor, John Lynch, doesn't support same-sex marriage and would prefer to stick to civil unions. But, NH's legislative House passed a bill saying marriage is for everybody not just women and men. It still has to get through NH's Senate and I believe Gov. Lynch is willing to use his veto power.


I hope equality spreads because I need to fill in my United States map with more color. While filling in more of the East Coast would be duckie, Iowa looks lonely out there. How about it, Minnesota? Wanna play footsie?

OMFG! Battle of the Jennifers – “And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going"

I do not like to lose my sh*# in public. Bred from two staunch lines of stoics, I find it highly distasteful to emote in front of others. The exception is football. Anything goes when it comes to the Steelers. However, I’m usually expressing aggression and anger; those emotions are seen as strengths—at least from the pater’s side of the family. But, I don’t like to cry in public. Not only do I view tears as weakness, I cry ugly. So, pride and vanity wrapped up in a pretty, curly bow! Thanks, Daddy.

And, I don’t express admiration easily. You have got to earn my praise. It’s another football thing—basically, you’ve got to smack me in the mouth and run me over before I admit that you’re worthy of attention. And, I certainly don’t loiter around to get autographs or scream my head off (unless its Heinz Stadium and I want to tell #92 that he made Flacco look like a crash test dummy for most of the game) to puff some other person’s ego.



One electrifying night in 1981, I was taken to see the original Broadway production of Dreamgirls. Well, I got smacked in the mouth—and I liked it. For the first time, I wanted to hang around the theater's back door to squeal as the principals left for Sardi’s (as I imagined it), and OMG! maybe, I could get someone to sign my Playbill.

Basically, I lost my sh*#. And, a big part of it was the showstopper, “And I’m Not Telling I’m Not Going.” The very next day, I made my mother buy me the cast recording. Jennifer Holliday was the Queen. Let me explain about black folk. Once we have decided that your version of a song is THE VERSION, that’s it. Nobody can sing that song until you die. Beyonce should not have belted “At Last” at that inaugural ball because Etta James is alive and well and that standard is hers all alone—she’s territorially peed all over it. So, Beyonce and her reedy voice needed to sit down.



As for “And I’m Not Telling…,” forget it. Whitney Houston sang it live in concert, and barely got away with it. The crowd gave her a pass, but they weren’t happy. I hadn’t heard the Jennifer Hudson version; I don’t watch Idol and I haven’t seen the movie version of Dreamgirls. The link below changed that. With its “battle” headline, I had to watch this video posted from a recent concert in Atlanta, GA. And, I likey! Jennifer Hudson is worthy to attempt this song. I have to say her pipes did it better justice than Whitney’s did. But, Jennifer Holliday is STILL THE QUEEN. Hudson should get her props, but Ms. Holliday still owns this song.

I don’t think it’s just my opinion either. The best thing about this video is the other queen to be heard. The one squealing in the background, “OMG! OMG!! OMG!!! OMG!!!! OMG!!!!!”

Losing our sh*# together, we crown Holliday as the one and only ruler of this song.

Watch:
Battle of the Jennifers

If you don't believe, watch Holliday's performance at the Tonys.

STEELERS 2009 - LET THE OBSESSION BEGIN

SIXBURGH'S 2009 SCHEDULE

One of the Best Movies of 2008? #2

I saw The Dark Knight a while ago, so I can't be in-depth and precise with my description, but I did jot down notes after seeing it. To get it out of the way, Heath Ledger ain't no Oscarbagger. That gentleman was bloody amazing in his performance. Gurrrl, I'd be able to smell Joker's evil from the next county over. This is how good Ledger served it: I DID NOT WANT TO HIT THAT. Me. The girl who is hot for nut jobs. If Ledger had played it like a caricature, his Joker would be the freaky stuff of my dreams. Instead, that was a human behind that crackled mask...a seriously effed-up individual with whom I never want to cross paths.

Thank you for your participation Mr. Brolin, Mr. Shannon, Mr. Hoffman. Maybe we'll see you again. Big sigh, RDJ. You're the only one that came close to knocking out Ledger's bumper car, so I know you'll be back. As for all this talk that The Dark Knight should have been nominated for Best Picture, well, screw that.

I'll admit that I've got beef with Christopher Nolan, the director. I think he's sucked the sex out of Batman. Granted, the franchise had sailed past absurdity with Batman & Robin...eesh. But, it still had Clooney strolling in a tuxedo and that's always hot. Nolan restored respectability and plausibility with Batman Begins, but where was that whiff of freak-a-deak that Keaton and Kilmer vibed through those layers of rubber?

I don't blame Christian Bale. He's a Sexy Beast. He got me tingling with American Psycho (duh, nut job) and 3:10 to Yuma (do-gooder with a limp). So, Bale can bring it. I withheld judgement on Batman Begins but I was pissed about TDK. Alfred was throwing more mojo than Batman.

OK, so Batman is an uptight priss who could care less about turning it out on a Friday night. I'll get over it (maybe). I don't know if it was editing or lighting, but sometimes I couldn't see what was happening on screen. That was annoying. In the story, the only character development I detected was in Harvey Dent and the citizens of Gotham. Aaron Eckhart was excellent as Dent, and I liked how his story played out. That was very well done. Overall, the acting was sound and good in this film, which brings me back to my first silly point.

Did anyone else notice how attractive all the male actors are in this film? Eckhart, Oldman, Bale, Ledger, and Carbonell as the hottie mayor. They're all easy on the eye, and they wore superbly tailored suits. It was like flipping through British GQ. But, nobody's gettin' any...except for Dent (good on ya, Aaron). Hmm. People can crack wise about how homoerotic The Fast & The Furious 4 is, but at least, there's sex--hot, steamy, bulging sex. I can't tell if TDK is in the closet or just frigid. Either way, I'm just a little black pussy spittin' and hissin' on a tin roof.

I would have found Nolan and punched him in the mouth for stealing one of my Top 10 Freak-A-Deaks of all time...but then I saw Iron Man. Big purr, RDJ. Big purr, and it's getting bigger.

The Dark Knight: 3 out of 5 stars = meh.

Number 4 : VERMONT

Vermont became the fourth state in the U.S. to guarantee marriage for all citizens. There are good links included below. One of them is a Boston Globe article that describes the politicking that got the deed done.

Key points:

• It came down to one vote. That vote belonged to Jeff Young, a freshman Democrat, who switched his vote.
• This is a legislative vote, not a judicial action as in the previous three states (MA, CT, IA). The vote potentially could be repealed at a later date.
• Marriage for all becomes law in Vermont on Sept. 1, 2009.
• Some believe that Vermont could benefit economically.
• This is the first override of a governor's veto in nineteen years in Vermont. The governor is Republican, but Democrats hold a supermajority in the State House and Senate. Gov. Douglas did not lobby for votes to sustain his veto, but emphasized that this should be a personal decision.

Boston Globe, "Vermont legislature overrides veto..."

Plus, this is a NYT article discussing a movement to have all of New England ensuring marriage equality by 2012. So far, so good. The next state to either support or deny marriage for all is New Hampshire on Wednesday, April 15, 2009. Same day that taxes are due.

My Favorite Things...Right Now

No particular order.

1. Peeps -- Chocolate is for pussies, I prefer to mainline my sugar.

2. The Fall (directed by Tarsem, starring Lee Pace and Catinca Untaru) -- Visually stunning; plot is in freefall, so don't try to hang on; Mr. Pace gets sexier and stronger each time I see him; Catinca! Catinca! Catinca! I would follow follow follow you to all the ends of the world world world.

3. Dlisted (www.dlisted.com) -- If you have to ask...just go there.

4. George Clooney’s eyelashes -- Have you noticed how long they are? Just when I think I can designate him a "Freebie" and let the unicorn go, he turns into profile--gasp!--again, I dance with the horned white devil and think "Lifetime."

5. “Glorious Day,” Weezer -- For the giant waves.

6. “Roomful of Blues” -- For the 5-inch heels.

7. stiff spring breezes -- holla, New England!

8. B.U. Men’s Hockey -- OMFG!!! Best college hockey game EVER!!!!!! NCAA Champs, y'all! And, BC still sucks.

9. fuckwits who jump into polar bear cages -- I would have let that woman get eaten, just shepherd the crowd away so no one has to watch. Did you see Bearsie grab her ass for a last bite? By the way, it's too late...she has offspring.

10. Merry Christmas, y’all! -- By the way, it's too late...she has offspring.

When the bear bites
When Georgie stings
When I feel itches
I simply remember my favorite things
And then ya know I'm back, bitches!

Iowa Becomes the 3rd State to Legalize Marriage for All

One of the best stories written about the historic decision made by the Iowa Supreme Court appeared on www.latimes.com (link included below). Iowa becomes the third state to legalize marriage for all following Massachusetts and Connecticut.

Massachusetts was the first state to say that gays and lesbians could marry as well as heterosexuals. I remember being blown away by the gumption. I thought the Bay State was too Roman Catholic to actually step up and ensure everybody's legal right to get married. However, Massachusetts was one of the epicenters of the sexual abuse scandal in the Roman Catholic Church. It wasn't just the crimes committed by the priests, but the forced closings of parishes to pay for the sizable monetary settlements made to the victims that led to a lot of people feeling betrayed by the Church. Parishioners felt the Vatican should pay for it as they were the ones rubber stamping all the shady transfers and protecting predatory priests. That's not the only reason why the favorable ruling came to be in Massachusetts, but it couldn't have hurt. Anyway, marriage for all citizens was announced in May 2004 and by October, I attended my first same-sex wedding on a beach in Cape Cod. The world hasn't come to an end by the way.

Iowa's decision has these notable elements: 1) it was an unanimous ruling and written by a Republican. 2) Iowa is in the Midwest--can you find it on a map of the U.S.?--and I don't regard it as a bastion of liberalism. That might change now. Read the article. It does a decent job of explaining how this could affect the battle over Prop 8 in California.

Sample from the decision:

"We are firmly convinced the exclusion of gay and lesbian people from the institution of civil marriage does not substantially further any important governmental objective. The Legislature has excluded a historically disfavored class of persons from a supremely important civil institution without a constitutionally sufficient justification."

This is the same state that knocked down slavery decades before the Civil War. They abolished segregation in public schools 85 years before the U.S. Supreme Court got wise. The Hawkeyes were also the first state to admit women to the bar and practice law.

"Iowa court legalizes gay marriage as California watches"

One of the Best Movies of 2008?

Having just watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona, I've come to the conclusion that it was pure delectability. I never thought I could watch a 90-minute shampoo commercial and not be suicidal at the end. How wrong I was. Apparently, I'm thoroughly American.

So, Penelope Cruz won an Oscar for that? Hmmm. Well, her hair was better than ScarJo's, but I didn't think the acting was so stellar as to warrant an award. Javier was the stunner in that category, and I didn't even look at his hair...well, not too much.

Attention Mz. Adams, Mz. Davis, and Mz. Henson--you wuz robbed. Cruz gets the silky mane throbbing with ebullience; sucky-face with Javier; AND the statuette lusted for around the world? Uh-uh. If it was me, I'd slither into that boudoir, straddle her while wielding some clippers, and bloody demand, "Hair or the Goldy Man! Pick one!" I hope she chooses the Goldy Man. I could get a good price for that pony hair of hers cuz Beyoncé always needs a new wig and Sasha Fierce don't ask questions.

I don't think it rates as one of the Best Movies of 2008--too slick and bouncy. But, it is definitely a personal fave. Despite the bitchery above, I would rate it four out of five stars because I felt yummy after watching it and utterly believed that all the world's problems could be solved with the right conditioner and a dose of Catalan sunshine. All the leaders at the G-20 Summit need to watch this ASAP.

Merry Christmas, y'all!

P.S. - No mention of M. Tomei was made as she is an Oscarbagger herself.