In my life as a “professional blogger” (and I use that term loosely), I write about cars. Much of my work focuses on vehicle technology, auto marketing, and LGBT-related news. Yesterday, a reader pointed me to this ad from Hyundai, which combines two of the three:
From where I sit, that looks a little odd. Why?
The image above came from a TMZ post (apparently removed) that allegedly came with the caption, “TMZ has obtained a photo of a glistening Presidential candidate Newt Gingrich laying topless on a beach in Greece … days before his campaign staff quit over the timing of his two-week vacation.”
You seem much fatter
When you’re on Fox, talking shit
about bogus threats.
Not that you’re skinny —
like me, you could lose a few —
we’ll call you “average”.
But if you’re thinking
that this pic will clinch your bid,
you’re crazy, dumbass.
P.S. TMZ
Says “laying”, but you’re “lying”.
Which is typical.
[pic via Towleroad]
A new graphic hit the interwebs yesterday: a poster for the upcoming “documentary” about Sarah Palin called The Undefeated.
I say “documentary” instead of documentary because by all accounts The Undefeated is a glossy, image-buffing story of Palin’s brief life in politics (made briefer when she voluntarily moved out of the governor’s mansion). Presumably the director’s goal is to generate interest in Palin before she announces her candidacy for the 2012 presidential race and to encourage the public to forget certain things about her — like about 90% of what we’ve seen captured on video. Oh: and the fact that she’s not actually “undefeated”.
But whatever the film is or isn’t is a little beside the point now, because I can’t get past the poster. Have a look:
Does that remind you of anything? Stylistically, I mean?
Maybe I’m crazy — and I’m definitely no scholar of art history — but all that symbolism, that heavy-handed collage, and the weird, cut-out effect remind me of nothing so much as Chinese propaganda posters. This isn’t a great example, but, you know:
I understand that propaganda posters of all sorts — “good” and “bad” — have a similar look. They tend to deify the central characters, make them look larger than life. But as one of those people who criticized Obama for playing the role of “messiah”, you’d think that Palin (or those trying to make her more palatable to people with actual human brains) might’ve opted for something more…subtle.
Of course, the five-pointed stars aren’t helping. Come to think of it, I’d never really noticed the similarities between the flags of Alaska and mainland China. I’m not implying anything about my Chinese or Alaskan or Chinese-Alaskan friends, but observe:
But you know, this is all just me. I’m sure that most people looking at the promo image for The Undefeated would see it for what it is: a terrible hack-job of a movie poster.
Here’s CEO Gregg Steinhafel talking to shareholders yesterday about Target’s support of conservative political candidates and causes — including an upcoming ballot initiative for a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage in Minnesota:
“Our position at this particular time is that we are going to be neutral on that particular issue, as we would be on other social issues that have polarizing points of view,” Steinhafel said at Target’s annual meeting in Pittsburgh.
“We’re a retail store, we welcome everybody,” he said. “We have a broad team-member base, every shape and size and color. And so we are a very inclusive organization. … We’re going to continue to monitor, we’re going to continue to assess, and see how that develops.”
“At this particular time”? “Continue to assess”?
Ugh, fuck that man and the store he rode in on.
Thirty years ago, on June 5, 1981, AIDS was first acknowledged in print.
The article from the Centers for Disease Control wasn’t widely read, and it didn’t give a name to the disease. (It would be another year before scientists found one that fit, after giving several a try, including the terrible GRID, for “gay-related immune deficiency”.)
The paper certainly didn’t talk about HIV, since the virus wasn’t discovered until later. In fact, the article was mostly about the unusual appearance of Pneumocystis pneumonia in five young, gay men in Los Angeles. For all scientists knew, they were dealing with a superstrain of Pneumocystis that could eventually threaten the entire planet.
Well, they were half right.
At first, HIV and AIDS were a major setback for the burgeoning gay rights movement. Things had been moving swiftly for the community until then: the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from its list of diseases in 1974 — just five years after Stonewall — and we were being treated more fairly in the media. We were even featured on popular TV shows like Dynasty and Soap, and although those representations weren’t perfect, they were far better than the psychopathic killers and suicidal maniacs we’d played before.
AIDS took the lives of many who campaigned for those achievements, and even people who weren’t ill were dumbstruck for a time. But grief is an unparalleled motivator, and soon, the LGBT community and its allies had formed sophisticated, efficient activist groups, pushing for treatment and prevention programs, destigmatization, and equal rights. We did as the ACT UP slogan said and turned our sadness into rage.
Over the course of the epidemic, roughly 30,000,000 people around the world have died from AIDS, and another 32,000,000 live with HIV/AIDS today. Treatment has gotten much easier and more bearable for those living with HIV, and there have especially promising developments in recent years, particularly in the area of stem cells and genetic therapy. But there is still no cure.
Take a moment today to think of your friends, family members, and neighbors who have died from AIDS or who are living with HIV/AIDS. Renew your commitment to wiping out this disease. Contribute to a local hospice, sign up for a charity walk, send a letter to your elected officials — whatever fits your style.
Everyone thought that AIDS would be cured by now. Let’s make certain that happens within the next 30 years — or hopefully, far sooner.
For those who have time, you’ll find the original article from June 5, 1981 below.
* * * * *
Pneumocystis Pneumonia — Los Angeles
In the period October 1980-May 1981, 5 young men, all active homosexuals, were treated for biopsy-confirmed Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia at 3 different hospitals in Los Angeles, California. Two of the patients died. All 5 patients had laboratory-confirmed previous or current cytomegalovirus (CMV) infection and candidal mucosal infection. Case reports of these patients follow.
Patient 1: A previously healthy 33-year-old man developed P. carinii pneumonia and oral mucosal candidiasis in March 1981 after a 2-month history of fever associated with elevated liver enzymes, leukopenia, and CMV viruria. The serum complement-fixation CMV titer in October 1980 was 256; in may 1981 it was 32.* The patient’s condition deteriorated despite courses of treatment with trimethoprim-sulfamethoxazole (TMP/SMX), pentamidine, and acyclovir. He died May 3, and postmortem examination showed residual P. carinii and CMV pneumonia, but no evidence of neoplasia.
Patient 2: A previously healthy 30-year-old man developed p. carinii pneumonia in April 1981 after a 5-month history of fever each day and of elevated liver-function tests, CMV viruria, and documented seroconversion to CMV, i.e., an acute-phase titer of 16 and a convalescent-phase titer of 28* in anticomplement immunofluorescence tests. Other features of his illness included leukopenia and mucosal candidiasis. His pneumonia responded to a course of intravenous TMP/.SMX, but, as of the latest reports, he continues to have a fever each day.
Patient 3: A 30-year-old man was well until January 1981 when he developed esophageal and oral candidiasis that responded to Amphotericin B treatment. He was hospitalized in February 1981 for P. carinii pneumonia that responded to TMP/SMX. His esophageal candidiasis recurred after the pneumonia was diagnosed, and he was again given Amphotericin B. The CMV complement-fixation titer in March 1981 was 8. Material from an esophageal biopsy was positive for CMV.
Patient 4: A 29-year-old man developed P. carinii pneumonia in February 1981. He had had Hodgkins disease 3 years earlier, but had been successfully treated with radiation therapy alone. He did not improve after being given intravenous TMP/SMX and corticosteroids and died in March. Postmortem examination showed no evidence of Hodgkins disease, but P. carinii and CMV were found in lung tissue.
Patient 5: A previously healthy 36-year-old man with clinically diagnosed CMV infection in September 1980 was seen in April 1981 because of a 4-month history of fever, dyspnea, and cough. On admission he was found to have P. carinii pneumonia, oral candidiasis, and CMV retinitis. A complement-fixation CMV titer in April 1981 was 128. The patient has been treated with 2 short courses of TMP/SMX that have been limited because of a sulfa-induced neutropenia. He is being treated for candidiasis with topical nystatin.
The diagnosis of Pneumocystis pneumonia was confirmed for all 5 patients antemortem by closed or open lung biopsy. The patients did not know each other and had no known common contacts or knowledge of sexual partners who had had similar illnesses. Two of the 5 reported having frequent homosexual contacts with various partners. All 5 reported using inhalant drugs, and 1 reported parenteral drug abuse. Three patients had profoundly depressed in vitro proliferative responses to mitogens and antigens. Lymphocyte studies were not performed on the other 2 patients.
Reported by MS Gottlieb, MD, HM Schanker, MD, PT Fan, MD, A Saxon, MD, JD Weisman, DO, Div of Clinical Immunology-Allergy; Dept of Medicine, UCLA School of Medicine; I Pozalski, MD, Cedars-Mt. Siani Hospital, Los Angeles; Field services Div, Epidemiology Program Office, CDC.
Editorial Note: Pneumocystis pneumonia in the United States is almost exclusively limited to severely immunosuppressed patients (1). The occurrence of pneumocystosis in these 5 previously healthy individuals without a clinically apparent underlying immunodeficiency is unusual. The fact that these patients were all homosexuals suggests an association between some aspect of a homosexual lifestyle or disease acquired through sexual contact and Pneumocystis pneumonia in this population. All 5 patients described in this report had laboratory-confirmed CMV disease or virus shedding within 5 months of the diagnosis of Pneumocystis pneumonia. CMV infection has been shown to induce transient abnormalities of in vitro cellular-immune function in otherwise healthy human hosts (2,3). Although all 3 patients tested had abnormal cellular-immune function, no definitive conclusion regarding the role of CMV infection in these 5 cases can be reached because of the lack of published data on cellular-immune function in healthy homosexual males with and without CMV antibody. In 1 report, 7 (3.6%) of 194 patients with pneumocystosis also had CMV infection’ 40 (21%) of the same group had at least 1 other major concurrent infection (1). A high prevalence of CMV infections among homosexual males was recently reported: 179 (94%) had CMV viruria; rates for 101 controls of similar age who were reported to be exclusively heterosexual were 54% for seropositivity and zero fro viruria (4). In another study of 64 males, 4 (6.3%) had positive tests for CMV in semen, but none had CMV recovered from urine. Two of the 4 reported recent homosexual contacts. These findings suggest not only that virus shedding may be more readily detected in seminal fluid than urine, but also that seminal fluid may be an important vehicle of CMV transmission (5).
All the above observations suggest the possibility of a cellular-immune dysfunction related to a common exposure that predisposes individuals to opportunistic infections such as pneumocystosis and candidiasis. Although the role of CMV infection in the pathogenesis of pneumocystosis remains unknown, the possibility of P. carinii infection must be carefully considered in a differential diagnosis for previously healthy homosexual males with dyspnea and pneumonia.
References
In honor of the start of the 2011 North Atlantic Hurricane Season, here is a list of names that will (probably) never make it onto the World Meteorological Organization’s annual list:
Airfoundia
High school classmate. Wallflower type. Barely heard from before graduation, never heard from after.
Boadicea
Although it would be funny.
Cicciolina
Which would also be funny.
Dick
Which would be hilarious.
Eudora
Though Ms. Welty was pretty feisty in her own right.
Filomena
The name of an in-law and a favorite (name and in-law), but perhaps not WASPy enough.
Gargantua
Probably a shade too literate.
Higgins
No one could live with themselves, knowing that their community had been devastated by a character from Magnum P.I.
Ikebana
Naming a storm after the Japanese art of flower arrangement seems poetic, but highbrow.
Jehoshaphat
Though the headlines would be pretty good.
Kiki
Because “kiki” is a slang term — in both French and Tagalog, I think — for “tiny penis”. Don’t ask how I know such things, just go with it.
Lachrymosia
Seriously: back in the day, I knew a girl who adopted this as her name. She wore a lot of black, which shouldn’t surprise anyone.
Manderley
Though a very good friend has named his house that. I’ve a very good mind to name ours Mrs. Danvers.
Nanook
Because hurricanes are hot, not icy.
Ozymandias
Speaking of highbrow, right?
Pantagruel
Though the idea of the broadcasters trying to get that one out of their mouths makes me smile. “Hurricane Panda…Pantera…Plantagenet…oh hell: storm’s a-comin’!”
Quelea
Because in the entire history of Western Civilization, I don’t think anyone has named a child “Quelea” — even though it’s my favorite bird and the most abundant on Planet Earth (though in flocks of over a billion, they can destroy crops very quickly). If you’ve never seen them in action, behold:
Rococo
Because it’s a brilliant Cocteau Twins song, and who would want to ruin that memory?
Sindy
Even the World Meteorological Organization has a taste level.
Titania
Again with the literate references. Also the humorless Family Research Council would probably whine.
Ulala
Because she can’t be bothered to leave Space Channel 5.
Vendetta
Although it would be badass. And Margaret Orr could draw a little mustache on the hurricane map.
Wilson-Phillips
Because enough is e-freaking-nough.
Xtopher
Because the Xtians would start whining again, and we just got them quieted down after the whole “Titania” debacle.
Yaqueteria
A fictional character from some very early Varla Jean Merman videos. Hilarious, but fictional nonetheless. (And so “very early Varla” that they haven’t yet made the transition from wax cylinder to YouTube.)
Zed
Because, as Mr. Willis once said, Zed’s dead.
* * * * *
And in case you’re wondering about this year’s official names, they are:
Arlene
Bret
Cindy
Don
Emily
Franklin
Gert
Harvey
Irene
Jose
Katia
Lee
Maria
Nate
Ophelia
Philippe
Rina
Sean
Tammy
Vince
Whitney
For Proust, taste and scent were like time machines: one bite of a madeleine, one whiff of perfume, and he’d jump back ten, twenty, thirty years.
For me, it’s sound. I hear a friend’s voice, and I remember where we last saw each other. A few bars of a pop song, and I’m back in junior high.*
That’s what happened yesterday when I was running errands and heard Erik Satie’s “Gymnopédie No. 1” on the radio.
Jonno introduced me to Satie a lifetime ago, when we were living over a thousand miles apart. We’d just spent a long weekend together — our first — and he gave me a tape to keep me company on the flight home from New York to New Orleans. As we said goodbye at the corner of 9th Avenue and 23rd Street, I popped it into my cassette player, kissed him — just lightly, I think — and walked away.
I don’t remember whether it was sunny that day, or cloudy, or pouring rain. I only remember pressing “play” and turning around to see Jonno, waving to me from the door of the Chelsea Square diner as the first chords hit my ears. It was a scene from a movie.
As fond as those memories are, though, and as much as I love “Gymnopédie”, I don’t listen to it often. That’s weird, because when I’m into a song, I usually wear it out, then never play it again. (Currently in heavy rotation: “I Am the Doctor”, which is about a completely different sort of time-travel and which I’m dying to put in a show, but it seems wrong for a Mommy Dearest/Mildred Pierce mashup, though it’s perfect for treadmills.)
I’m reluctant to listen to “Gymnopédie” too much because I want to savor it. It’s unlike me to have that much self-control, but people do crazy things when they’re in love. Stumbling across it on the radio yesterday was like getting a little present in the middle of my day, made even more special because Jonno’s been out of town.
Two other interesting things about the piece:
1. “Gymnopédie” sounds entirely different every time it’s played. I know that’s true of every musical work, but it seems doubly so of this one. Maybe because it’s so simple? I don’t know, I’m not a musician.
2. Satie was a real-life friend to another queer couple: Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. It’s easy to picture the three of them, sitting after dinner at 27 Rue du Fleurus while Satie plays his newest composition. Toklas looks lovingly at Stein, who looks back — not sappily, not even what we’d call “lovingly”, but Alice could tell what she meant. Years later, people still don’t understand their complicated relationship, but that doesn’t matter. Frankly, it never did.
In case you haven’t heard it before, have a listen:
http://www.box.net/embed/p2bl3fokbovg45t.swf
* Maybe that’s related to my superpower of being able to identify voiceover actors at the drop of a hat, but who knows?
The most unsettling part of this shot is the placement of the urinals so close to the door, which is terrible feng shui.
“At least your feet won’t feel uncomfortable.”
Advertising Agency: AJF Partnership, Melbourne, Australia
Creative Director: Joshua Stephens
Art Director: Michael Gagliardi
Copywriter: Michael Skarbek
Photographer: Chris Budgeon
Published: April 2011
* * * * *
On the upside, this one encourages men to take video of themselves pissing, which someone’s bound to enjoy.
* * * * *
Yeah, but can we touch it?
Advertising Agency: Frank Unlimited, USA
Creative Director / Art Director: Zach Hitner
Creative Director / Copywriter: Forrest Healy
* * * * *
As promised, the weird one. On the surface, it’s an ad for a nutritional and sports consulting firm in Brazil, but at heart it’s about chubby men having sex:
FYI, there’s a print version:
Advertising Agency: Giovanni+DraftFCB, Brazil
Copywriter: Adriano Alarcon
Art Director: Adriano Alarcon
Creative Directors: Adilson Xavier, Ricardo John
Head of Art: Benjamin Yung Jr
Agency Producer: Ana Flávia de Lucca, Vivi Guedes, Victor Alloza
Accounts: Patrícia Marinho, Pedro Fuhrer
Production Company: Hungry Man Br
Director: Carlão Busato./a>
Executive Producer: Alex Mededff
Line producer: Erica Coelho
DOP: Russo Loyola
Editor: André Melo
Editing Company: Hungry Man
Music Artist: James Jamute
Sound Design: Jamute Áudio
Post Production Supervisor: Rodrigo Oliveira
Post Production / 3D : Átomo, Hungry Man
Scene Art Directors: Thiago Bastos, Adriano Alarcon, Carlão Busato, Zarella Neto
Art Researchers: Adriano Alarcon, Carlão Busato, Zarella Neto
Graphic Designers: Adriano Alarcon, Carlão Busato
Costume Designers: Silvia Costa, Bianca Scorza
Stunt Coordinator: Vagner Martão
* * * * *
Sorry, I lied: one more. This has nothing to do with men and their wangs (well, not overtly), it’s just offensive and homophobic. Ironically, it’s from the bisexual paradise known as Brazil.
“Germs just can’t reproduce.
Lysoform disinfectant”
Advertising Agency: DPZ Propaganda, São Paulo, Brazil
Creative Directors: Francesc Petit, Fernando Rodrigues, Diego Zaragoza, Rafael Urenha, Marcello Barcelos
Art Directors: Cícero Souza, Mauricio Kumazawa
Copywriters: Beth Bylaardt, Mariana Horta, Thomaz Dantas
Illustrator: Super Lúdico
Art Buyers: Sophie D.Lanes, Márcia Granja
Published: April 2011
A year and a half ago, I had a handful of sidewalk conversations with one of the most interesting women the Marigny has to offer: Eva Schneider. In halting English — weirdly broken for someone who’s lived in the U.S. for most of her life — she told me about the years she spent working at Disney Studios.
Shortly thereafter, I began receiving little missives in my mail slot: short letters offering more details of her career as a professional animator. They were sometimes hard to follow, so I skimmed them and filed them away, hoping to transcribe them at some point.
Apparently, I’ve reached “some point”. I recently sat down with Eva’s letters and started to type, keeping her curious capitalizations, spellings, and punctuation intact.
In the end, I’m sorry to say, there’s not a lot of new information about her or about Disney & Co. In fact, sometimes, she repeats herself, occasionally on the same page. And her story follows a predictable path: that of an artist working in a medium that’s changed by emerging technology — technology that she finds cold and inferior. She dismisses the computer-animated Disney films of today, and it would be easy to write her off as yet another person who’d rather bash technology than adapt and use it.
Unfortunately, Eva talks very little about her experience as one of the few women working in a field dominated by men, or about her impressions of Walt Disney’s political/world views. But even though I didn’t get what I was hoping for, the act of writing seems to have been cathartic for her. And so, I kept transcribing. Because I know that when I’m her age (90, I’m guessing), I’d want the chance to be heard.
I haven’t seen Eva on the street in months — maybe a year. I don’t know if she’s still alive, but I can’t find an obit for her. Perhaps she was taken in by her relatives. Or maybe, knowing her, she’s taken them in. She’s kind of spunky.
If you’re interested in what she had to say, the transcriptions are after the jump.
About ten years ago, our theatre company was getting ready to tackle one of the few “straight” shows we’ve ever done — by which I mean a show that’s already written, with a proven track-record of production on stage. The show was Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and it was kind of a monster. It required working with a lot of people we’d never met, including a rock and roll band and a complete cast of producers. To make matters more complex, we ran it at One Eyed Jacks, a bona fide rock and roll club in the middle of the French Quarter, meaning that our sets, costumes, and everything else had to be broken down every night so that a half-dozen punk bands could take the stage after we’d finished.
For all the work it requires, though, Hedwig is a small show — really, there’s just one lead, with a supporting actress, with the band pitching in from time to time. As a result, many of our regulars had nothing to do during the production. That was frustrating because the two reasons we started the theatre company in the first place were to (1) entertain ourselves, and (2) let the cast and crew earn some cash doing what they loved.
Around the same time, we wound up talking to Barbara Motley, the owner of Le Chat Noir, a very swanky theatre in the middle of the arts district. How we won Barbara over, how we convinced her that our lowbrow humor would be a good fit for her higher-brow audiences is beyond me, but we did it. And so, in the middle of Hedwig, we wound up running a second show: Kiki le Bonbon’s Cabaret Oh-La-La.
It wasn’t a great idea. The show was loose — probably too loose — and in our late-night slot, the audiences were slim. But we had fun, and the owner had fun, and a friendship was born.
Many, many productions later, the building that houses Le Chat is up for sale, and although the owner is committed to keeping Le Chat alive — even if it means moving to a new venue — no one’s sure what the future holds. So at the moment, it looks like our June show could be the last theatrical production on the Le Chat stage.
I originally wanted to put together a show that would serve as a tribute to Le Chat — something sweet with a bit of heart to it. In the end, though, nothing seemed right, nothing seemed organic, nothing seemed “us”. And so, we’ve opted for the obvious: a mashup of Mommy Dearest, Mildred Pierce, and some other Hollywood fodder. It may not be what we’d envisioned, but if the readthrough last night is any indication, we’re going to all go down laughing. (Which is, of course, how we like it.)
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