I feel so ashamed...

...but Bravo's Work of Art makes me want to blog about reality TV again. But! It's hard, because as ready to "take sides" as I feel (the fact that one "side", as I see it, includes Ryan, Mark and Erik - the macho, egotistical, often vaguely homophobic, transphobic and misogynist dudes who hate on the hot girl everyone's desperately trying to treat like a dummy despite her current climb and the one non-normative-ish male who gets called a "pussy" for having insomnia and, I don't know, wearing sweaters and mumbling? is making it so easy.), I know this is a show and they edit this shit to death in order to create drama, and beyond that, this is probably not how this people would actually treat each other if left to their own devices (i.e. not in a contest, not on television, not on edge all the time).

Jaclyn made this point with a great blog post about how unnecessary Erik's exit was, if it weren't for producers messing with him.

They also edited out scenes of Jaclyn doing math, but left in the scene of Erik claiming she brought everyone snacks. A real mystery, what they're trying to do there...

Ok. Forget the drama this past episode (and the way it carried into twitter, which is why I included Mark on that list of people I'm jumping to side against). I want to talk about my problem with this show in general.

WHERE. ARE. THE. QUEERS?

WHERE ARE THE QUEERS, BRAVO? Do you forget why I and an enormous portion of your audience started watching you in the first place? Of course you have. You're a soulless reality machine now. After Queer Eye ran out of juice and Project Runway ran out on you, it's all housewives and fashionistas and straight, straight, straight people who want to do violence to each other. You're so far from home. Kathy Griffin is all you have left, and you can only absorb the residual queer off of her. Bravo, if Work of Art gets another season: QUEERS. And don't you DARE Zulema them out this time. I'm still pissed about that.

Seriously. The most shocking thing about the "shock art" episode was how shockingly fucking heteronormative Ryan has to be to think dressing up like a "tranny hooker in bondage" is innovative and outrageous, instead of casting him as an immature bigot totally devoid of an original thought.

I am OVERWHELMED but how straight this show is. I can't think of an artist I know who isn't queer! Art and queerness go hand in hand. But if any of Work of Art's artists are queer, the subject has been avoided. Forget this evil editing bullshit, next time, just. hire. queers. We make good television.

Read More...

Raison D'être

I'll start with a somewhat relevant story: On Monday morning, I freaked out and caused a scene at work for the first time.
Why? I gave one of the cooks, my acting manager, a big flyer from the Rhode Island Blood Center that a very nice volunteer had given to me to hang up, and after this manager and a younger cook scoffed at the thought of giving blood, insinuated it was some sort of conspiracy, and generally mocked the idea of doing a good deed for a person you don't know, he ripped up the flyer before my eyes.
There were customers. I screamed. I stole the pieces (with the panicky idea that I could fix it), ran to the bathroom and cried. I guess it was just a shock- maybe I've come to assume everyone has the compulsion towards kindness. I realize I'm just blessed to often be surronded by people who are so generous, loving and inspiring.

This is, of course, how I spent Sunday night.



Raison D'Etre (reason for being) was Sunday, and it was beautiful. The kids raised $500 for World Vision- and that's at the low admission price of three dollars.


(Psst, I'm pretty sure The Blue Rhoda is playing in this picture.)

I wish I got some shots of the art in progress- there were two big murals being painted outside, and ornate chalk arrows stretching down the nearby street to advertise. Oh well. Here's some of the art featured:








These two are by my friend Melissa. She's so talented, it might kill you.


These pieces are by Mike, who is possibly my current favorite person. What a kid. The top left one is by his girlfriend, Mindy.


This is the handiwork of Nick, who made an apperance, but was too manly or something to stick around all night. The furthest right is a self-portrait.


The portrait there is actually a self-portrait, by the leading lady of the evening, Katie! The trombone belongs to one of the boy's friends, but I don't know who painted it. Sure is swell, though.


These are mine! Huzzah. In case you are wondering, their titles from top to bottom are "Enlightenment", "Turn Your Pain Into Love" and "Yeah, We're Pretty Fucking Beautiful".

And now, a musical interlude:


This is an Izaiah, who possesses the very genes for musical genius. Not kidding. I'm pretty sure the members of his family were all born with a tiny guitar in their hands.


The painting behind him is also by Miss Katie. It's the Mona Lisa. The real one.


This is Kevin! He's one of the boy's nearest and dearests, and an all-around good kid. He was home for the weekend from Americorps*NCCC, and it's a bit depressing to tell that Ian was working at camp all weekend and didn't get to see him.


He was very good, and very modest about it. The word for his performance would be "endearing". I hope he keeps playing that thing.


This is Breathe Easy, who were quite good, and not as loud as they claimed they would be. I was in a band with the bassist, once. Guess he was too "committed to playing music" for a band that had two practices, one of which was dominated by playing video games. The lead guitar player, Tim, is pretty amazing. I don't know those other guys.


In this image, people are moving stuff around to accomodate the last band. I don't know who they were, actually, but they were crazy loud. It was pretty good, for a mosh band in an art gallery. The lady in yellow is top banana herself, Katie. I don't mean to discredit the other people who organized this, I just wasn't involved, so I don't know who did what. Not to mention that I don't have any pictures of them. Laura and Jen were the ladies who brought the whole idea forward, I believe, and worked with Katie as a team. There were plenty of others who helped out. From the outside, things seemed to go smoothly- so a pat on the back, an I love you, and a cup of freshly squeezed mango juice to everyone who made it happen.

Well. I'm happy I can say that this is the sort of thing I do with my life, and I'm practically in love with all of my friends. Did I mention Dave was there, after spending a week helping orphans in Haiti? That just struck me, when the cook ripped up that flyer. They were unrelated, really, but I just wanted to shout, "How can you be so heartless about such a thing, when people are out feeding Haitian orphans?"
Katie, Laura, Jen, Kevin, Dave; they're not crazed, or superhuman or anything. They're just nice people, seizing opportunities to do good.
I hope this hasn't been too shmaltzy for you. I'll talk about TV some other week. This week, I hope you're inspired by these friends of mine. I am, constantly.

Read More...

An Item That Falls Directly Between "Freaking Bizarre" and "Inspiring".

As you may or probably do not know, I'm a playwright. An award-winning playwright, at that. (Try to guess which one I am! Hint: I have a vagina.) I've got a fucking plaque and everything. I know I'm not a genius at it or anything- I'm definitely not one of those drama kids who say things like, "You know, my professor is simply fascinated with O'Neill, but I don't understand how she can call herself a drama lover when she says she's never cared for Beckett." I'm actually glad I haven't read a lot of classics, because I can write without worrying that I'm taking too much inspiration from other work (read: ripping off better writers). My first play was about lobsters, my second was about mimes, and currently I'm writing a carthatic piece about the college process. I'd just gotten to thinking I'm good at it this sort of thing, when I stumbled upon a piece that makes me ashamed of my lack of creativity. It's not Beckett, it's not O'Neill, it's not even Wilde- whose fandom I would belong to, if more 19th century writers had fandoms- it's this.


A Very Merry Unauthorized Children's Scientology Pagaent.

I haven't seen it, I haven't (yet) heard the soundtrack, I haven't read the articles in New York Times or The Village Voice. By the way, why am I only hearing about this now? It's apparently been around for years, and my so-called "friends" never thought mention it to me?
No, I have only gazed upon the website- which I initially thought to be a really cool hoax. When I realized it was legit, just reading the title of the play caused me to utter that phrade that tears at every artist's heart: "Why didn't I think of that?"



In costumes slightly resembling The Polyphonic Spree's robes (creating some kind of meeting of the bizarrely brilliant), children- God bless them, children play L. Ron Hubbard, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, and, of course, the great Xenu (pictured above, in more Conehead-esque garb). They sing songs such as "Hey! It's a Happy Day!" and "Mister Auditor". Who doesn't love a musical? Well, probably not actual Scientologists.

An unwanted but obligatory rant about scientology itself: I try to be open-minded about Scientology. It would probably be much easier if they ever tried telling anyone what they actually do. Seriously, scientologists. First of all, thank you for visiting my blog. Tell your friends. Secondly, I know being all secret and exclusive is your "thing", but you're hurting the cause. Your founder, the guy who wrote Battlefield Earth, simply looks shady. I don't know if The Simpsons modeled the Leader in their cult epsiode after L. Ron or if it was just a happy coincidence because he looks like a cult leader. I'm afraid famous people keep defending scientology because they can afford it. I know Christians pass around a collection plate, but there's not a thousand-dollar tab on baptism and confessional. We will stop treating you like a cult when you stop acting so damn culty. When one of your famous members jokes about eating his baby's placenta and people automatically believe it- it's time for a change.
Really, Scientologists, this pagaent is probably the most positive cultural reference you're going to get. Start letting your kids put it on around Christmas or L. Ron Hubbard Day or what have you. Everyone likes kids. They're adorable.

By the way, the one image that qualified this play for Bizarre Week:



Nothing more fantastically creepy than emotionless twins in rainbow socks and a giant brain costume.

I love it.

Read More...

In Which a Well-Known PR Fan Has a Webcomic, Creating an Intersection of Sorts

Remember my internet friend Oolong, who did the lovely caricatures of the Project Runway designers?

Seeing as I mentioned my zest for webcomics in my last entry, I thought I'd plug his new webcomic, Witch Doctor. It's a bit more, hmm, comprehensive than his previous, titled Faggot House. It's still in the exposition stage, but the art is nice and the characters seem likeable, so I'll be following it for a while.

A sneak peak? Sure, why not? Hopefully he won't eat my face or anything for not mentioning this to him.



Give it a peek, support the guy- webcomics are definitely harder to keep going than lousy blogs like this.

Read More...