Been a long time...

So yeah, um. Been a long time since I posted. Has anyone noticed?

To the Editor:

To the Editor (of the Indianapolis Star)

"As we all know, the preservation of landmark architecture keeps cities strong. Indianapolis is the type of "can do" city that has shown a commitment to preserving and redeveloping its core with astounding success. Now is not the time to falter in that determination to keep Indy great.

Efforts to save the former home of Crawford's Bakery at 16th Street and Capitol Avenue appear to be gaining momentum but need public support. Demolition had been scheduled for May 1 but the building's owner, an out-of-state investor from Florida, has agreed to hold off until at least May 15 while Indiana Landmarks tries to line up a way to save the 1926 building.

Regular people have banded together to help save the building. You can help by joining the "Save the Crawford's Bakery Building" Facebook Group at: http://bit.ly/save_fb_group"

Works of Art

A chance encounter with Joan Miró (or I was only looking for a cup of coffee)

Rarely do I ever feel the need to write things from my personal perspective - preferring instead to act as a kind of editor of collective random experience and interesting things. I don't like to write much these days, especially not out here in the vast expanse of the Internet.

But this past weekend a friend and I traveled to the Cincinnati Museum of Art. By chance, and desirous of coffee after an afternoon of art-lulled stupor, we stopped by
the Terrace Cafe at the museum. Just outside the cafe is a large mural by Joan Miró. I was sitting in such a way that the outside courtyard was to my left behind a bank of windows, and likewise, the Miró was outside in the hallway behind a bank of windows to my right.

It was a gray, snowy, rainy day to my left. But to my right was something completely different.

Miró is all about the color, the vibrancy, the simple complexity of the material - and I like that. The stuff is primitive and sophisticatedly complex, just like some of my favorite people. Indeed, I have no claim to being a highfalutin intellectual as regards art. But I know what I like and I like Miró's stuff. I hang my head and feign contrition for not grasping the meaning that art has collectively for everyone else.

That said, I was intrigued by how the museum came upon this very large and very fancy mural. Why was it here? What's the story? My friend wondered, had been commissioned for the museum? That's a noble thought.

Luckily, in most art museums these days, they put those handy cards next to the art that explains things a bit. And indeed, upon closer inspection we learned that it was entitled "Mural for the Terrace Plaza Hotel" and that it had once been installed, remarkably, in the Terrace Plaza Hotel. It, and an Alexander Calder mobile, had been given to the museum in 1965 after the hotel changed hands. What idiots, I thought, these new owners, to part company with Miró and Calder. I pessimistically assumed the hotel was long gone - torn down in a rush to pave it over. I took several photos of the mural and let my experience with it percolate a bit.

Thanks to the wonders of the modern age, I was able to take that percolating interest and get to work looking up a few things on the online ocean of knowledge. I learned more than a few things about my newly discovered mammoth treasure.

It turns out that the mystery hotel was completed in 1948 at 15 West Sixth Street in Cincinnati and that it was designed by Skidmore Owings and Merrill under the design coordination of 24-yer-old Natalie de Blois (a woman!). It was one of the first major building projects in Cincinnati after World War II and one of the first modern buildings in downtown Cincinnati. It was a mixed-use building with little ornamentation - commercial space below, a hotel above. The 18th and top floor contained a round dining room and an outdoor garden.

It was for that round room that our Miró had been commissioned.



And the building was still there. We had even walked by it later that same day without knowing it. I'd passed by it dozens of times in the past. Now it seemed a commonplace building that, I was learning, had once had a soul.

The building itself represented an aesthetic of the modern, the new modern, the post-war modern that shaped New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and eventually every bank branch across the Unites States. It was the style that became ubiquitous and, in some cases, loathed by many. But what genius there was in this building! A building coldly constructed with a "form follows function" mentality had commissioned for it artwork by two of the greatest artists of its age to inject its modern lines and stark sleekness with curvature and color. It would be a building with a soul.

And that's what I find fascinating. The building itself is remarkable in a number of ways. But because it's style became commonplace, it's impact is lost on us these days. Now we see similar structures as lifeless monoliths with horizontal glass windows. They are places we pass by without taking note.

That as the buildings' plans were drawn, commissions were paid to bring a completely unnecessary, yet oddly necessary expression to it's structure, is remarkable. There is no function to this Miró other than to simply be. That fact, juxtaposed with the building's clear linear mater-of-fact utilitarian structure, is amazing.

In that chic restaurant, a place to dine and drink in this new modern building, was a stunning mural both curving and curvaceous - an embrace for its patrons.

The endeavor represents something seminal about American culture in the mid 20th century - post war, when the United States was the happening place to be. Our uncomfortable culture was torn between the useful and the beautiful. The unbounded positive nature of our architectural and artistic life was unmatched and our growing pains were never more felt. While aspects of our culture would yield to what would become the dull soullessness of suburbia, here was an urban expression of the future where form and function was infused with soul.

And now that soul hangs outside a restaurant appropriately named the Terrace Cafe, restored and glorious, in a building with many souls to keep it company. The Calder mobile hangs right above it. Both are refugees.

Unfortunately, I read that the building's future is in jeopardy. Maybe if they returned its soul it might survive?

There is a vitality . . .

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open....You have to keep open and aware directly to the urge that motivates you. Keep the channel open."

-- Martha Graham

Palin: A cunning stunt or a stunning _____?

Gathered from some blogs:

Sarah Palin: faithful veteran in the war against ice caps.
Sarah Palin: longtime experienced commentator on local hockey
Sarah Palin: totally unsuited to be a fucking veep.
Sarah Palin: the gift that keeps on giving.

Sarah Palin: Caribou Barbie

---

"[Y]ou have to admit that. . . since Palin became governor about two years ago, no Russian invasion force has come across the strait, maybe because she was in charge of the Guard, maybe because she herself is a hunter and an athlete.”

---

Not to mention "the threat from the Canadian hordes to the east. This brave woman, using only 4,000 weekend warriors (and a few minor-league hockey teams for moral support) has fended off two imperialist tundra-grabbing nations on two separate fronts. Medal of Freedom, anyone?"

---

"It’s all fun and games until some lunatic zealot [Palin?] actually gets their hands on the button. The probability of McNasty stroking out and leaving Miss Kitty and her tribe of snowbillies in charge is just too high for us to risk it."

---

"…so when will General Palin be deployed into the Georgian theater? She could use her Super Vagina-Tron™ to transport troops in and out of battle safely!"

---

"[T]he possibility of Putin acting to regain the lost territory of Alaska [that we] may need her to remain on the job [in Alaska] directing that defense."

Today's View - Big Head Sculpture

I love this sculpture. It's very Angkor Wat meets urban chic or something. Took this in May 2008 in a small downtown park in Indianapolis.

wabi sabi

Wabi-sabi (in Kanji: 侘寂) represents a comprehensive aesthetic world view sometimes described as beauty that is “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.”

It's hard to describe from a Western perspective, an aesthetic born from complex Japanese cultural traditions and external influences. Wabi-sabi centers on the acceptance of transience: Beauty is in the ordinary and mundane, in the flawed, in the humble but elegant simplicity achieved by bringing out the organic colors, shapes, and textures of natural materials. Expression and meaning are derived and defined not only in terms of what is present, but in what is not present in a composition. Beauty is in the aged patina, in the rust attached to “lived” objects.

Wabi-sabi is the opposite of our Western ideal, born in Greek philosophy, of the beauty of perfection and immutable youth. It stands in stark, simple contrast, to the overly decorated evolution of the Western expression of design where "more is better."

I like your verbs that are things

Her: "It was so weird. All she wanted to do today was spa and club."

Him: "I like your verbs that are things. I think I'm gonna sandwich after I sofa here for a bit."

Today's view: NYC in June

This is a view of Grand Central Terminal and the Chrysler Building from the summer of 2007. The lighting was just between sunset and night so the lighting was particularly beautiful.

Atooshi Kodki!

Between my first and second marriages, I did what many girls in my position do: I backpacked through Japan, Vietnam, and Bhutan. One day while worshipping at the Golden Temple in Kyoto, I was discovered by a commercial director. Long story short, I became the face of "Atooshi Kodki!" The energy drink of today's youth. It was a health drink, chock-full of vitamins, minerals, and 22 grams of nicotine. Anyway, I became a sensation. Everywhere I went, I was mobbed by Japanese people. Fortunately, it was right around the time they invented pepper spray. Years later when they discovered that nicotine was dangerous and replaced it with ephedra and trace amounts baby laxative, they offered me another commercial. But I said no. And that is a decision I have regretted ever since.

She refused to be bored

...she covered her face with powder and paint because she didn’t need it and she refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn’t boring. She was conscious that the things she did were the things she had always wanted to do.

Zelda Fitzgerald

Get your Mitt off me

Mitt Romney, Osama Bin Laden, George Bush, Adolf Hitler, assorted "preachers," and fellow theocrats seem to have a lot in common. In December, Romney said that "freedom requires religion." Many would agree that religion is a control mechanism with the aim of keeping people from exercising liberty. Such a statement is clearly Orwellinan doublespeak and Romney's rhetoric echoes the very scary words of one of the most evil men the world has ever known:

"The National Government will regard it as its first and foremost duty to revive in the nation the spirit of unity and cooperation. It will preserve and defend those basic principles on which our nation has been built. It regards Christianity as the foundation of our national morality, and the family as the basis of national life." -- Adolph Hitler (My New World Order, Proclamation to the German Nation at Berlin, February 1, 1933)

This whack-job right-wing German also said:

"We demand freedom for all religious confessions in the state, insofar as they do not endanger its existence or conflict with the customs and moral sentiments of the Germanic race. The party as such represents the standpoint of a positive Christianity, without owing itself to a particular confession...."

---

But the United States Constitution and Founders disagree with Romney, Bin Laden, Hitler, and most sectors of the Republican party. Article VI of the U.S. Constitution says:

"No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any public office or trust under the United States."

Our First Amendment says:

"Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

The 1797 Treaty of Tripoli, unanimously ratified by the United States Senate and signed into law by the conservative John Adams, says:

"As the government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian Religion."

---

Thomas Jefferson, the author of our most cherished Declaration of Independence said:

"The clergy converted the simple teachings of Jesus into an engine for enslaving mankind and adulterated by artificial constructions into a contrivance to filch wealth and power to themselves...these clergy, in fact, constitute the real Anti-Christ."

And:

"Christianity has become the most perverted system that ever shone on man. Rogueries, absurdities and untruths were perpetrated upon the teachings of Jesus by a large band of dupes and imposters led by Paul, the first great corrupter of the teaching of Jesus."

---

George Washington, our first president and national hero, said:

"The American government was not founded on the Christian religion."

And:

"I beg you be persuaded that no one would be more zealous than myself to establish effectual barriers against the horrors of spiritual tyranny, and every species of religious persecution."

And:

"Of all the animosities which have existed among mankind, those which are caused by difference of sentiments in religion appear to be the most inveterate and distressing, and ought most to be deprecated. I was in hopes that the enlightened and liberal policy, which has marked the present age, would at least have reconciled Christians of every denomination so far that we should never again see the religious disputes carried to such a pitch as to endanger the peace of society."

---

James Madison, architect of the very foundation of our Nation, the U.S. Constitution, said:

"Ecclesiastical establishments tend to create ignorance and all of which facilitates the execution of mischievous projects. Religious bondage shackles and debilitates the mind and unfits it for every noble enterprise, every expanded project."

And:

"I have no doubt that every new example, will succeed, as every past one has done, in shewing that religion & Gov will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together."

And:

"Whilst we assert for ourselves a freedom to embrace, to profess and observe the Religion which we believe to be of divine origin, we cannot deny equal freedom to those whose minds have not yet yielded to the evidence which has convinced us."

---

Thomas Paine said this,

"All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit."

And:

"It is from the Bible that man has learned cruelty, rapine, and murder; for the belief of a cruel God makes a cruel man."

And:

"All our ideas of the justice and goodness of God revolt at the impious cruelty of the Bible. It is not a God, just and good, but a devil, under the name of God, that the Bible describes."

---

A few relevant observations:

Number of times the Constitution mentions the word God: 0

Number of times the Constitution mentions any form of the word Christian: 0

Number of times the Constitution mentions the name Jesus: 0

And finally, this is the number of times the Constitution mentions the word bible: 0

---

Conclusion: America is a secular nation governed by secular laws . Those laws allow people of all religions and, for that mantter, people with no religion at all, to share the same rights and fruits of liberty.

Romney's speech is at odds with our national values and everything our nation was founded upon. While such opinions might not be treasonous, he's treading on thin ice when he desecrates our national values in such a perverted way.

Humanity was my business!

"Humanity was my business!" the Ghost of Jacob Marley thunders, with a good long shake of his chain and lock boxes, in reply to his former partner Ebeneezer Scrooge's remark, "You always were a good businessman, Jacob."

"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing his hands again.

"Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!'

With that sobering statement to Scrooge, Marley's Ghost sends a chill up the spine of his old partner, as well as every reader of the story ever since.

What is YOUR business?

oh squiggly line

oh squiggly line
in my eye fluid
i see you
there lurking
on the periphery
of my vision

but when i try
and look at you
you scurry away

are you shy
squiggly line?

why only when
i ignore you,
do you return
to the center
of my eye?

oh squiggly line
its alright
you are forgiven

Chicago Christmastime

I'm Lost in Your Eyes - (Modigliani)

Amedeo Clemente Modigliani (July 12, 1884 – January 24, 1920) was an Italian artist, practicing both painting and sculpture, who pursued his career for the most part in France. Modigliani was born in Livorno (historically referred to in English as Leghorn), in Northwestern Italy and began his artistic studies in Italy before moving to Paris in 1906. Influenced by the artists in his circle of friends and associates, by a range of genres and art movements, and by primitive art, Modigliani's œuvre was nonetheless unique and idiosyncratic. He died in Paris of tubercular meningitis— exacerbated by poverty, overworking, and an excessive use of alcohol and narcotics — at the age of 35.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

You say that we've got nothing in common, no common ground to start from, and we're falling apart. You'll say the world has come between us. Our lives have come between us. Still, I know you just don't care. I see you - the only one who knew me. And now your eyes see through me. I guess I was wrong. So what now? It's plain to see we're over. And I hate when things are over - when so much is left undone.

And I said, "What about 'Breakfast at Tiffany's? ' " He said, "I think I remember the film, and as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it." And I said, "Well, that's the one thing we've got."

Well, well, well, Karen Walker. I thought I smelled gin and regret.

"I’m sorry, you must have mistaken me for somebody else. My name is Anastasia Beaverhausen. 'Anastasia' like Russian Royalty, 'Beaverhausen' like . . . where the beaver live."

"I'm fabulous; I'm an incredible dresser; I've got buckets of money; I'm a hoot and a half; and I got a killer rack!"

"The only other person I've apologized to was my mother, and that was court ordered. So take the apology in the spirit it was intended, or I'll kick you in the generals."

"God made you in His image and I’m sure he doesn’t regret it that much!"

"It’s like childbirth but without the unpleasant child afterwards."

"My mother was crazy, that’s why I had her committed. Well, she wasn’t so much crazy as she bugged me."

Today's view: Brewed in Bangalore

Dinner last night at the Afghanistan Khyber Pass restaurant in Hillcrest, San Diego, included a Taj Mahal for a very good time.

Les gargouille

And I, like everyone, must follow...

New video by Rufus Wainright. He's growing on me.
[Crappy audio on the clip, unfortunately but a great song...]



Rules & Regulations

I will never be as cute as you
according to the Board of Human Relations.
I will never fly as high as you
according to the Board of Public Citations

These are just the rules and regulations
of the birds and the bees,
the earth and the trees,
not to mention the gods -- not to mention the gods.

All my little life I've wanted to roam,
even if it was just inside my own home.
Then one little day I chanced to look back.
Saw you sittin' there, the innocent culprit

These are just the rules and regulations
of the birds, and the bees
the earth, and the trees,
not to mention the gods -- not to mention the gods.

These are just the rules and regulations.
Yeah, these are just the rules and regulations.
And I, like everyone, yes I like everyone, must follow.

To the orange side through the clouds and thunder

Merv Griffin's Dangerous Closet

Note: This was originally published Sunday, August 12, 2007 in The Gist, Michelangelo Signorile's blog.

The Hollywood mogul Merv Griffin died at the age of 82 over the weekend after a battle with cancer, and I was amazed to see The New York Times actually discuss his sexual orientation, the palimony lawsuit and the male-on-male sexual harassment lawsuit. I'm thinking perhaps the Times editors really took it to heart when many of us criticized them after Susan Sontag's death and the obituary cover-up of her sexual orientation and her relationship with Annie Liebovitz. So far, in the the rest of the obits on Griffin (Reuters, Associated Press) I've seen nothing about his homosexuality.

And yet, it is very important for reasons far beyond visibility or mere gossip. Merv Griffin was an example of how dangerous the closet can be -- and how the closet and power are a combustible combination that adversely affects so many other lives. We should point to his life for GLBT youth and say, "Don't let this happen to you. Don't let your closet compromise you to the point where you are actively harming your own people, even though you have the power to do so much good."

Griffin never acknowledged he was gay, though it became widely known in Hollywood, even as Eva Gabor played his beard. Yet, it was nothing discussed in the media and, apparently, in many of his own circles, particularly straight political circles. Though he'd quietly led a gay life -- and had his pool parties filled with hot young men in years past, as well as a parade of boyfriends -- that was viewed as "private" information that was not discussed in mixed company. I had interviewed many gay men who'd known Griffin as gay, as well as men who told stories about how his closet had him doing horrendous things -- and how he was threatened by openly gay people.

First off, Griffin's closet kept him shockingly silent while he had access to the president of the United States as his own people were dying. This man was intimate with the Reagans (and Nancy Reagan in particular) during the height of the AIDS epidemic in 80s, with few treatments available and fear-mongering having gripped the media. Griffin's gay brothers -- his friends, his lovers, his people across America, around the world -- suffered and met horrific deaths. And yet, because he was closeted it is highly unlikely he ever made the connection for the Reagans (between himself and those who were suffering and dying), pointed out the government negligence, or even talked openly as a gay person. They likely knew, but it was unspoken, and that allowed all involved to just rationalize things --to say to themselves that, well, Merv, is not like those other people, and to always believe that maybe it wasn't true anyway, and that he was truly dating Eva Gabor. He also stayed silent about the epidemic in the media -- ironic since he was a man very much at the center of the media industry and in shaping communications and television in this country -- when his voice would have made a huge difference.



Secondly, Griffin's closet had him engaging in workplace sexual harassment, something that, as I showed in my 1993 book Queer in America, is common among closeted powerful men, who often are simply seeking outlets for sex. That was not only focused on in the Denny Terrio lawsuit against Griffin but also was something that several Hollywood gay men told me about, offering first hand experience, while I was researching Queer in America back in the early 90s and some of this (though, for legal reasons not all) is reported on in the book.

Finally, Griffin's closet had him firing gay men who'd actually made it up through the ranks of his own company, simply because they were openly gay. There is a story in Queer in America about a man identified as "The Mogul" who did just that. I can now reveal that The Mogul is Merv Griffin. Open homosexuality is a threat to the closeted, and powerful people in the closet like Merv Griffin will often do whatever it takes to squash those who are open and who might advocate that all among the powerful should come out.

Merv Griffin accomplished a lot and is, in his death, being held up as a example of a stellar Hollywood businessman. But he should also be held up as man who, like Malcolm Forbes before him, was hugely influential and powerful and yet still allowed

the closet and homophobia to manipulate his life, and to cause him to do harm to his own people. That should not be forgotten.

ART SHOW

Woofus

When my friend asked if I wanted to come visit this past week and go to a Rufus Wainwright concert, I figured, it would be something amusing to do. It would be chance to hang out, but not much more.


I didn't consider myself a fan of RW. In fact I didn't know much of what Rufus was about. Aside from few Limewire downloads and knowledge of his assorted associations with movie soundtracks there was little to go on. I knew he was gay which was a plus. I heard he was addicted to meth at one point (or still) which was a minus ("Judgey Wudgey was a bear," as Stanford Blatch says). Other than that, total tabula rasa.

The venue was a sweltering hellhole of mixed-breed fans at this outdoor pavilion. We timed our arrival to miss the duo of opening acts. I sat myself down, and proceeded to sweat profusely in my long pants and long sleeved shirt. I was hoping for at least one song that I knew, followed by quick set, which would yield an even quicker exit for cooler environs. That didn't happen.

Rufus came out in a candy-striped seersucker suit, no shirt underneath (Rufus is hairy!) with ten (yes ten) broaches strewn across his jacket. Rufus is a big queen and I love that. I don't know what to make of him, which is good. He's complex. He's kind of bitter -- kind of cynical -- witty. He was very proud of those ten broaches. He shimmered in front of a brooch-studded American flag in the background. A nice visual.



He played a long set with a break - to be honest a lot of it sounded the same. Classical music played on the sound system during the interlude. A nice touch. Then he was back for more -- this time dressed in lederhosen, tall socks, and all. He's a good performer. Very dramatic. Very sad. He's got a good voice but melancholy pervades everything. It's no wonder he does tributes to Judy Garland. They are cut from the same cloth. His encore saw him in an oversized pure-white bathrobe. God only knows what he had on (or didn't have on) underneath - we left before the encore was done. Perhaps had we waited, we could have found out.

Morose as he is, he still camps it up. He just does it very somberly. Again, not expected. Self absorption seems to be a popular theme of his music: twisted artist and all with a nice dose of inadequacy and self-loathing. Good times.

So I'm still undecided but leaning towards liking him. He's got an apparently chaotic life (from what one reads on the web) but he's got considerable talent. It's hard for me to "like" performers that I don't identify with in some way and I don't know that I can identify here. Tortured artist has never been appealing to me. The "woe is me" crap is kind of annoying.

But I will overlook that for now.

Moondust will cover you . . .

Hallo Spaceboy,
You're sleepy now.

Your silhouette is so stationary.
You're released, but your custody calls.

And I want to be free.
Don't you want to be free?

Do you like girls or boys?
It's confusing these days.

But moondust will cover you.
Cover you.

The day in question was not a good day for me, alright?

The day in question was not a good day for me, alright?

But I put it to you that I don’t see how any day could have been the way this bloody country’s run!

I mean, y’know, I’m just trying to do my best. Trying to get from "A" to "B" -- do a little shopping.

I was trying to take control of my life, only to find that, actually, it is controlled for me by petty bureaucracy and bits of bloody paper and ignorant bloody petty rules and laws that obstruct every tiny little action until you find you’ve committed a crime without even knowing it!

I mean, y’know! Why can’t life just be made a little easier for everybody, huh?

Why can’t it be more like the Continent? Y’know, where a man can just park his car on the pavement and then run down the street in front of charging bulls letting fireworks off out of his bloody nostrils without anyone blinking an eye!?

There’s probably a local holiday and nobody’s at work and they all want to have just a little bit of fun and they’re not intimidated by some out-dated work ethic!

I mean, there has to be more to life than just being safe!

Why, oh why, do we pay taxes, hmm? I mean, just to have bloody parking restrictions and buggery, ugly traffic wardens and bollocky pedestrian bloody crossings, y’know?

And those bastard railings outside shops so you can’t even get in them! I mean, I know they’re there to stop stupid people running out into the street and killing themselves, but we’re not all stupid! We don’t all need nurse-maiding!

I mean, why not just have a stupidity tax?

Just tax the stupid people!

To bear the burden of the heavens

"Long before the world we know, the second generation was born. In union, Iapetus and Clymene begat loyal Atlas. Ten years war waged, as Titans fought the usurpers. Atlas, in battle defeated, by wrathful Zeus punished. Woeful Atlas! To bear the burden of the heavens was he enslaved, as the Titans to Tartarus were banished."