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Mind Your G's and Q's: The Bocce Affect

9/27/2024

Wherein I will try and sum up all of the GayQ trickle down commentary.
Where were we?
Well, I was complaining about GQ magazine and its effect/affect on my life. I think we tend to underestimate how much something like a magazine can influence our life. I mean, how many ladies do you know who took Cosmopolitan magazine quizzes seriously? Or men for that matter? And yes, you probably just chuckled, but you've taken your fair share, I'm guessing. We also underesimate, I think, just how much advertising influences our life choices. Advertising is perhaps the most ubiquitous, unasked for element in our lives; particularly American lives. It's so ingrained we don't even question it. We don't really even think to question it. So, I think bitching about how a magazine may have misled me on certain things is totally relves!
So, back to bocce. Oh, what the frig even is bocce? Let's start with that.

I bring up bocce in relation to GQ magazine because I associate the two. Bocce calls to mind, at least to me, classic, timeless effortless mens fashion. GQ magazine at one time was about just that. It often heavily featured Italian clothing designers. Not just the big houses and famous designers; but also a lot of the mid-tier, B level concerns you'd never heard of. Or ads put together by mens stores like this Dallas area emporium from 1983.

There were a lot of ads like this in GQ, back in the day. Particularly towards the back of the magazine. I'm talking about when the magazine was for dudes who were truly interested in fashion, before Ralph and Calvin and Giorgio turned menswear into a Mega-Thing. I'm going to make a prediction (that is, if this hasn't already happened) that bocce will become a Mega-thing; particularly for hipsters who will use it in order to humble brag their latest looks (but, really, are any hipsters truly "humble"?). I'm seeing hipsters in their enclaves putting in bocce courts so they can put on hats and such that they really can't pull off to go and drink Pabst Blue Ribbon; which they really don't like. And say, isn't it time for Narragansett to make a comeback? Wait, it already may have been "rediscovered" by the Williamsburg set. How about Schaefer? Works for me!

Said "hipsters" balls in hand.

The other thing GQ seems to me to be about nowadays is being rich. Like this whole mindset:

You know, the whole, make it rain in the club mentality? And why is it when you see some bro makin' it rain in the club they're always makin' it rain on their coked up bros or cranked up strippers who they have to pay anyway? They never go outside and make it rain on homeless people or go down to the soup kitchen and make it rain there. Or the orphanage. Or St. Jude's. Or...
So is the magazine about me, me, me, selfishness? I would say, yes, yes, yes. Why else is the magazine so obsessed with wristwatches? Who even tells time by a wristwatch nowadays (except me)? Or is a wristwatch a way to wear the "rain" on your wrist and status it up in the process? Yes. Why else would the magazine tout watches that cost upwards of $50,000.00 on a regular basis, as though, yeah, sure...my entire year's salary plunked down on one excursion to Watches of Switzerland? Sure. It's an investment bro!

Maybe it's me. Maybe this is normal.
In any event, the magazine's latest issue actually has a financial plan laid out for readers of the magazine. I suppose it's the GQ Financial Plan:

And they pretty much spell it right out for you here. I think this may be the magazine's Mission Statement in our and its current zeitgeist:

The question is though, is GQ's worldview the "right" way to go?
But I preach. I'm a Sagiitarius. Apparently we're known for--
CHRISTOPHER REIDY!
Huh, what, who said that?
It's me, Tori...
Oh, hai Tori! What brings you by? Aren't you a little tied up right now dancing with your fellow Stars?
I've already been voted off.
What!??!
Yeah.
Oh, I'm sorry. I don't really watch that show...
And I don't really dance, so... But what I do, do, is spell correctly.
Uhh-huhhhhhh...well, my dancing skills are not my, shall we say, forte either.
We're talking about your spelling now.
Whadaidoo?
You keep misspelling Sagittarius.
Do I?
You know you do. And I would think as often as you mention it, you would've learned how to spell it right, if simply by default. Or osmosis. Sometimes you spell it with two "g"s. Sometimes with one "t." It's S-A-G-I-T-T-A-R-I-U-S.
Well, I've never spelled it S-A-G-G-I-T-T-A-R-R-I-O-U-S.
Are you sure about that?
No.
Well knock it off. Or stop going on about the zodiac and saying you're "not really into it."
But I'm not.
Okay how about you come up with some kind of little mnemonic device?
What now?
A mnemonic device. It helps you remember something.
I think you spelled it wrong.
No. I spelled it right.
No you put an "M" there.
It's supposed to be there.
So it's a silent "M"? Whoever heard of a silent "M"? I mean a silent "K," sure. Or a silent "G." Yeah. But a silent "M"? There's no such thing.
Yes there is. It's right there. In the word "mnemonic."
Okay, if you say so. But it must be the only word that has one. Is it?
Look it up. I've gotta run. I've gotta get to the Capezio store and return these shoes. They have a thirty day return policy and it's day thirty; and they're like the Shoe Police at that place.
Okay. Oh! How about this? Since it has two "t"s and a centaur is always shirtless and nip-slippin' I can remember it by thinking about titties! Tori? Oh, she's gone...

Okay, well...
Do I have any more to say about GQ? Actually I do; but I think I will do it in another blog. I've got some other things to finish; but knowing me, I'll probably start new blogs without finishing other ones. And I don't want you to think I HATE GQ magazine. If anything it's a LOVE/HATE kind of thing. And there are sometimes things in it I love. For example, Giorgio Armani. Now, before it starts to look like my mentioning of Armani and his products is some kind of product placement, I'd like to remind you that this website has thus far generated ZERO $$$$. Perhaps it's sold a few of my books; by osmosis. So again: ZERO $$$$. That being said.
You ever watch a movie set in the future and they want you to know it's the future so they screw around with mens suit-jackets. Because, in the future, for some reason, mens suit-jackets are not going to look they way they've looked for the past couple of hundred years? So the costume designer screws around with the button placement or adds a zipper or two or usually screws around with the lapels. And you know how it never looks right? And you're thinking, well, they minimized that lapel so much, it now looks like a women's suit-jacket? You know that thing? Well, someone has managed to do it today. For real. In the real world. And it's none other that The House of Armani. I wouldn't have thought it was possible. But they did it. And it was in the pages of GQ:

Oh, wait. That was an ad from Esquire. Oh well.
Yeah, so, I love Armani so much, if the Armani people asked me to do a TV commercial I would. And not only that, I'd do it for FREE!

CFR 9/29/24

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A Public Memo to Molly or Murphy's Flaw

9/26/2024

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Dear Molly:
You've done two projects with Ryan Murphy now. I suspect there will be more.

Chloe Sevigny has imbibed the Kool-Aid-Slushie.

Will I be watching The House of Murphy's latest project about the bros. Menendez? No, I won't. I don't particularly want to see Chloe gunned down on screen via buckshot to the face in what I'm guessing is ultra slow-motion. I don't need to see that. I already lived it in my mind when this unspeakable crime was all over the news in the early 90's. And the numerous TV movies that have already been made. Why do we need to see this again? In ultra slow motion, yet? And yes, this has triggered me (as much as I hate that phrase). That really upset me at the time and it has upset me again, thinking of it happening to an actress I admire. And yes, I know it's not real; and yet, this is why I am writing this.
Why, again, did we need to see the Dahmer story? We all lived it when it happened. We lived it again when Jeremy Renner took on the role. And again and again in various and sundry TV exposes. What is the purpose of the "Monsters" TV series, yet another franchise from Ryan Murphy? I did not watch the Dahmer entry either. Nor, Molly, was I even aware that you were in it. The purpose? Not having nor planning to see any episodes of this televised endeavour should I really be offering my opinion? Well, it hasn't stopped me before, so here goes!
It seems to me that "Monsters" apart from being a ratings, thus moolah juggernaut, is merely an excursion into the desecration of the flesh and ultimately the spirit. The mind is merely an afterthought. Watching Jeff and Lyle and Eric recommit their crimes for what can only be our entertainment seems to play to our basest instincts. Are we tuning in to get to the bottom of human nature; how it can be twisted and go awry? Or are we tuning in to see what a shotgun can do to a human face or how a drill bit can be used to hollow out a skull? Gnarly!
I'm not going to go into a big thing here aboute exploitation, ethics, morality, greed--any of that. And full disclosure, I loved FEUD: Bette and Joan.

And I also loved FEUD: Capote vs. The Swans:

But I could have lived without seeing Truman violently punched in the face every fifteen minutes by his abusive boyfriend. This story element was even highlighted in the opening credits. Why? I mean we get it. His boyfriend was a violent louse who hit him. Seeing it once would've been enough. Not a half dozen times in close-up. This is the very definition of GRATUITOUS and therein lies the problem. Not for you so much Molly; but more for your new boss. All this wallowing in nasty horror, both imagined and REAL is starting to make Mr. Murphy seem ghoulish. They used to call this sort of thing an unhealthy interest. If a child showed an unhealthy interest back in the day, they were usually taken to a child psychologist. Now we're getting Aaron Hernandez and his sexy, secret gay murderous streak. Is American Sports Story going to be about only murderous professional athletes? Or are they going to have to expand to International Sports Story in order to do the Oscar Pistorius story? It seems that playing field might be rather limited. I mean, come on Ryan, how about having a little queer fun once in a while? How about a show about the making of Pillow Talk? No one kills! No one is murdered! No one has a bizarre, gross out-outer space pregnancy. Nobody dies of AIDS. Well, somebody did; but this isn't about that.

This is about feeling good. And I can't say I feel all that good after watching your product. Not even Glee. I tried. I thought those kids were a bunch of conniving, nasty, back-stabbing psychos. But that's just me.
But this is a memo to Molly.
Molly, you recently mentioned, I think it was on Seth Meyers "talker," that you want to further expand your acting endeavours by playing a "psycho bitch." I'm pretty sure those were your words. And I understand the impulse. And now you are working with someone who clearly can make that wish come true. And here is my unsolicited advice. Do with it what you will. In light of the "buzz" that the next installment of "Monsters" is going to be the Ed Gein story, I ask you this: Please do not sign on to play Ed Gein's mother.

Or any other woman involved in this story. You will merely become part of the set. Literally.
That is all.
Carry on.
As you were.
Ciao for now.
MWAH!
S.W.A.K.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Chris

CFR 9/26/24

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Back in Saugus, Again or Down, Down, Down. Would the fall never come to an end!

9/19/2024

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I know. I'm getting way ahead of myself. I've leap-frogged over two or three unfinished blogs. So sue me. I'll get back to them. When you see my intitials CFR and the date, you know it's CASE CLOSED. But here's a case that's not closed. The Karla's Shoes building. Memba this?

I was just trying to figure out why there is a PRADA sign on the building. And as I was doing some research, it turned out there was a whole wormhole of stuff around this building and its conncection to a "mysterious" death in the town. Please see below for further links.

It also seems some "urban explorers" couldn't resist the pull of Karla's and they posted this super creepy vid!

I did find out who painted this picture of the building, which I thought was an actual photographic collage:

Her name is Jessica Hess. Originally from the Northshore of Boston area, she is now located in Oakland, CA.

I contacted her and she graced me with some artwork. Her take on the famous Saugus "Orange Dinosaur."

So, at least that mystery is solved.
But the other mystery is a whopper. It's a juicy story. One perhaps where justice has yet to be served. I will leave it at that. You can also find an interesting take on this on Tiktok, from a genuine Saugus resident (Saugonian). She has a very New England Wicked Wry take on it. I had trouble posting it; but here is where you can find it:

I expect to see a SIZZLING EXPOSE on DATELINE. Keith Morrison, are you listening?

Here are some links with some more information. www.realcrimes.com/Fiorenza/vfiorenza.htm
behindthebluewall.blogspot.com/2008/07/ma-officer-bennetts-dead-girlfriend-i.html
www.theodysseyonline.com/behind-the-blue-wall

CFR 9/19/24

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IYSSSS* PART ? / Or...I Am My Own IP, Am I Not? / Or: Brave New Tina, Same Old World?

9/19/2024

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So many questions! Like, Tina...is that you?

I mean, the computer says it's you. Or is it one of your TV Commercial doubles for Booking Dot Yeah; or whatever it is? Or is it AI? Yes, I think it's AI because although it looks more like that actress Rose Byrne; or perhaps a mash-up of Julianne Moore and maybe Andie MacDowell...I guess it still sort of looks like you. I mean, I was looking for pics of you in lingerie for this, just to bug you; but I think you'd be really suprised at how much Fake Tina Fey in Lingerie there is out there. And some of them are sub-par. Like in the above "Tina." Where are the fingers of her left hand? Does she have her hand on a sliding closet door? And if she does, we should see at least one other finger from that angle. Or is that supposed to be the shadow being cast by the moulding around the door behind her? And if it is, is that shadow some other dimension that has claimed her digits? And the more you look at it, the more the angles of her arms don't seem right. Take a look at this one, if you dare...

I don't know what's more disturbing...that your left arm has grown into your body; or that you seem to be in a garage that is coated with asbestos. Is this where we are headed Tina? Some Brave New World of Real Fake Tinas? Can I even be sure if this one is you?

I say we all clear our palettes with one of your retro commercials. One we KNOW is really you because this tech didn't exist yet.

TINA FEY
Hey Chris. 'Sup?
CHRIS REIDY
Tina! Is it really you? The REAL Tina Fey?
TF
Depends on what you mean by "real."
CR
You know. Like really real. Not AI. Not a pretend Tina from a TV commercial.
TF
You do realize, I hope, Chris, that I'm not "real" in these blogs. I'm in your imagination. Please tell me you're aware of this.
CR
Oh, I know! I'm pretty sure I can still distinguish "reality" from the "imagined." Although nowadays, it's becoming a challenge; and not just for me--that is--people with busy imaginations. I mean everyone.
TF
I know. I was just looking at me in imaginary lingerie.
CR
You wouldn't think there would be that much interest in you wearing lingerie.
TF
Uhhmm, I might.
CR
No, I mean...well...let's say...about as much interest in pictures of me running around in nothing but Speedos, that sort of thing.
TF
Maybe if you shaved your back.
CR
Oh, that's so sweet!
TF
Now what do you want?
CR
Well you walked into my head; but I would love a tube of that Garnier Ultra Lift Transformer Moisturizer! I mean, did it transform your life? Was your "game changed"?
TF
They don't make it anymore.
CR
What? But it worked over time! Did it turn back time?
TF
Ask Cher.

CR
Now there's a lady who loves lingerie!

TF
I think she's having a double nip slip...
CR
Cher don't care, baby!
TF
Well, I don't think you summoned me here to discuss Cher's bosom. What's on your mind?
CR
Well....
TF
Well, what?
CR
I really didn't want to address this anymore.
TF
Then don't.
CR
But it's so, like glaringly obvious, I kind of can't not address it. And I get the feeling my "readership" is entertained by this; and who would I be to deny them?
TF
Are you talking about being "ripped off" again?
CR
I'm starting to think about it as a kind of collaboration. That's how rife it's become.
TF
"Rife." That's a good word.
CR
They used to call me "Mr. Big Words," when I was a kid.
TF
Did they really? How cute. Well, it's not a big word. But it packs a lot into a little--
CR
That's what she said! And you know, that saying was big at my high school long before The Office hit the airwaves.
TF
Is that what this is about? You think The Office stole "that's what she said" from your high school? I think it's been around since the 20's.
CR
No. Of course I don't think that.
TF
I may be in your mind; but I have no idea "what you think." So, are we talking about that IYSSSS bit, which you've asterisked above but have no corresponding footnote for?
CR
I hate when that happens!
TF
You do it all the time.
CR
Oh Tina, I love the way you never let me get away with anything! But yes: IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING.
TF
So what did you "see" this time? And I'm not judging. I'm just curious. I've decided to start exercising some egalitarian equanimity in both my encounters and endeavours with you. How's that for some big words?
CR
Love it! And alliteration too. Tina, you're like, wicked smaht!
TF
Tell me something I don't know.
CR
Okay, how about Paul Rudd as an Irishman?
TF
That I do know, since we both guest on the same show. And I have to say, he wouldn't have been my first thought.

CR
Probably not mine either; but...
TF
First of all, let's cut to the chase. How do you think Paul Rudd borrowed from you? I mean, we all know you think Only Murders has been "borrowing" from you from the git go, as Nancy Grace would say. So what did Paul do?
CR
Like I said, I'm not looking for this stuff anymore. I will admit, for a while I was. My ears were perked up and at the ready like Mr. Spock's. So, rather than drive myself crazy, I gave it up. But now, it's like the Universe is dropping this stuff right in my lap. So, here we are.
TF
Get to the point.
CR
I wrote a screenplay on my blogs: HEARTFIGHT. I wrote it in real time, sort of as a class. Most of the lead characters were Irish and had pronounced Irish accents which were often pointedly pointed out by other characters. One of them was a scrappy, elfin fighter. I thought a line of Paul's dialog was also pointedly en pointe; which I will point out now. His character is an Irish stuntman named Glen who has a heavy brogue:

And here's a scene from my screenplay where the character of Danny (who I was picturing being played by Colin Farrell as I wrote) addresses a very similar situation:

TF
I see your point. But anyone who has a comedic, bent, shall we say and is doing an Irish caricature--
CR
My character is not a "caricature"!
TF
Is he "comic relief"?
CR
I suppose.
TF
Anyone doing an Irish character as comic relief might very well find themselves riffing on Lucky Charms. Paul said he ad-libbed the lines. And maybe he did read your script. Who knows? Does it matter?
CR
Well it does to me. And that the character is a drunk with the DTs doesn't really further Irish culture; but I will say, despite online detractors, I think Paul's accent is pretty spot on. And he made me laugh; which for me is really the only ting that matters.
TF
I think it's supposed to be deliberately awful.
CR
You say "po-tay-toe" Tina... But I can't help but feel I'm being taunted.
TF
Taunted?
CR
Well, maybe not taunted. Teased maybe. I feel like my chain is being yanked. And that's great! I love the Ruddster. He's one of my hall passes!
TF
How many freakin' hall passes do you have?
CR
I don't hall pass and tell, Tina.
TF
Good to know.
CR
But yes. Paul can yank my chain at will. He can taunt me. He can tease me. He can bust my ghosts any time of day or night! He can bust me all night long!*
TF
TMI, Chris. TMI.
CR
You mean TMP.
TF
TMP?
CR
Too Much Paul. And there's no such thing. He is one of the Sexiest Men Alive and that was in a magazine!!!

TF
And that's it? The Lucky Charms bit is your Big Kvetch?
CR
No...I mean, the whole Irish thing too. And then there's the other thing...
TF
There's more?
CR
Yes.
TF
I'm listening. Do you have any snacks?
CR
Ah, I have some Kroger brand chicken flavored crackers.
TF
I don't know...
CR
They're wicked good! Just try one!
TF
Oh, okay...

TF
Wow! These really are good!

CR
They're actually better than Nabisco's. Tina, you should do the commercial!
TF
For Kroger's?
CR
No for Kroger's Chicken Bisquit Baked Crackers.
TF
Just the crackers? Like, just for these in-store brand chicken flavored crackers?
CR
Yes! I don't think it's ever been done. You could be the first. Maybe they'll put your picture on the box!
TF
Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. What's the next kvetch?
CR
You'll like this one. It has a Saturday Night Live connection.
TF
Oh, I'm not on that show anymore.
CR
Aren't you though? So, anyways...you know that Sarah Sherman gal who's on the show? The one who's into all that gross-out-greasy-grimy-gopher-guts-Swifty-Lazar-glasses-Phyllis-Diller-get-ups-gig?
TF
You know I know who she is.
CR
Yeah, well anyways...there was all this pre-publicity that she was going to be guesting on General Hospital because she's a long-time fan and bladda-blahbba-yadda-yowsa-yowsa...
TF
Do you have any more of these crackers? The box is empty?
CR
No, ah, how about some chocolate covered cherries?
TF
Ooooh! Yum!

So, anyways. Sarah turns up on GH--we fans call it "G-H"--playing this character named "Robin Finch" who's a dialect coach or something. Let's let her explain:

TF
Yeah, that was cute. And?
CR
I thought Lorne Michaels was like wicked strict about his employees moonlighting when they're on his show.
TF
Oh honey, those days are over. When Kristen Wiig is actually doing commercials legit, that started out as parody; you know the world is on its head.

CR
I don't know. I don't think satire should ever be subsumed by "corporate synergy."
TF
It's America Chris. We buy stuff.
CR
Yeah, but isn't that what the satire was for in the first place?
TF
Are you sure it wasn't a commercial to begin with?
CR
(Contemplates. Strokes chin with thumb and forefinger. Removes readers. Bites eyeglass temple) Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Food for thought Tina. Food for thought.
TF
You're meandering again.
CR
Right! So...how is this connected to me?
TF
Sure...(unwraps another candy).

TF
...go on, I'm listening...
CR
Okay so a little background on the scene from General Hospital in which Sarah appeared; oh, did I mention her dad is my hall pass?
TF
What now?
CR
Sarah Sherman's dad is my hall pass. He's in my top five!
TF
Okay. Now you're just being weird. How would you even know who he is?
CR
He was in an SNL sketch, Tina. Duh! Come on, keep up.
TF
I don't work for that show.
CR
Sure Tina.

TF
I would so love to see you try and cash-in that chit.
CR
He would totally be into me!
TF
Sure Chris. So, ah, General Hospital?
CR
Right! So, Sarah is playing this new character who's been hired by Tracy Quatermain---
TF
Who?
CR
Just listen. It will all make sense. Tracy Quatermain is the matriarch of the rich and powerful Quatermain family who are the richest and most powerful family in all of Port Charles, which is in upstate New York, near one of the assumed Great Lakes. Think Buffalo. Tracy is the defacto head of Deception, a health and beauty company. Tracy's son Ned, who last year had split personality and was a rocker dude named Eddie and for some reason seems to be only a couple of years younger than his own mother is married to Olivia. His ex-wife, Lois who seems to live in the Quatermain mansion for some reason--oh, because Olivia and Lois were childhood friends in Bensonhurst, which I guess is a neighborhood in Brooklyn? Lois works for deception and is often on a Home Shopping Network type show pitching Deception's beauty products. The host of the show is Morgan Fairchild--
TF
As herself?
CR
I'm not sure about that. But it's really nice to see her on TV. Three Degrees of Reidyation aside: I waited on her once at the Polo store in Beverly Hills! She didn't look at me though...
TF
Were you in her eyeline? I'll tell you, that really throws me. It's a pet-peeve. Like, get out of my eyeline already Jane Krakowski. Jeez! Don't make me raise my voice.
CR
I got the feeling Morgan was just like, super shy. Although, she really seemed to enjoy lingerie too!

TF
Was she buying lingerie at the Polo store?
CR
Honestly, I forget what she was buying. But I can quite vividly recall what Donna Dixon was buying when I rang her up!
TF
You mean the former Mrs. Dan Aykroyd? Oh, do tell!
CR
Like several armloads of dresses. Like a couple of dozen. She dropped some benjamins! I remember because that collection had an unusual medieval theme and/or Elizabethan vibe. Let's take a look!

TF
Enough with the asides Chris. You're vascillating.
CR
Good word, Teens! It sounds kind of medieval. Anyways, Tracy hires the diction coach to polish Lois' speaking voice so that when she's pitching Deception products, she doesn't sound like a rube, I guess. So, in the backstage clip, when Sarah's character announces who she is, she claims she's a "...dialect theorist and tutor to the stars."
TF
Yeah, I watched it...
CR
So it cuts off there. But when she's challenged on her credentials, re: "stars," she mentions Meryl Streep. Then there is not only a prolonged exchange about Meryl and the film A Cry In the Dark; but an impersonation of the infamous: "The dingo took my baby!" line. Presented comically, of course.
TF
What's that all about? Why is a dingo snatching a child and--well, why is that still a joke?
CR
I suppose because it's so unfathomably horrific the only way to deal with it is by making it a joke?
TF
Agreed. So, again I ask. How is this connected to you?
CR
Well, a few months ago, I wrote a blog entitled: "Now You Can Ask Nicole Kidman About AMC and Excedrin P.M." It was a spoof of a call in radio/blog show that was being moderated by Meryl Streep. She was fielding questions for Nicole. And then I called in--
TF
Called in where?
CR
The radio show.
TF
What radio show?
CR
The radio show within the blog. Oh, it was imaginary. So was Meryl. And Nicole. Oh, you were in it too!
TF
And you were in it. Were you imaginary?
CR
You just blew my mind Miss Fey! Anyhow, A Cry In the Dark came up, and Lindy Chamberlain and the dingo, natch.
Take a look!

TF
Can I have some of these pickles? I'm still hungry.
CR
Sure!

CR
So...?
TF
Oh, you're done? That's it? So Paul Rudd and General Hospital?
CR
Yes. Thoughts?
TF
Well, you do sort of have to wonder why General Hospital would go on about a movie that came out, what? Twenty years ago? Twenty-five years ago?
CR
Thirty-six.
TF
Damn. That long ago, huh?
CR
Yep.
TF
So that guy who was asking Sarah who she was, the one who plays, Ned, was it?
CR
Yes.
TF
He kind of looks like you. Is he a hall pass?
CR
(Coy) I'll never tell...he sings too!

TF
That was cute. Is he "Ned" there; or "Eddie" and is that Tracy?
CR
No, Tracy is his mother. That's his wife, Olivia. And I think he's Ned here.
TF
Good to know. I wonder if GH would let me guest...
CR
I'm sure they would! You could play Port Charles' premiere travel agent, Khaki DuShane. But here's the thing: she's not just a travel agent...she's also a secret agent, working for the WSB! She's kind of a seductress, which would allow for lots of lingerie scenes! She's brainy, busty, ballsy and bi-curious. And bespectacled.
TF
Of course. What's the WSB?
CR
The World Security Bureau.
TF
Perhaps GH is reading this as we speak...
CR
Who knows...
TF
I've gotta go. Any last thoughts?
CR
How about a publicity still of you as "Khaki DuShane"?
TF
I don't think--

TF
Is that Lake Erie?
CR
Under there?
TF
Under where?
CR
Made you say underwear!!!
TF
Chris...
CR
Yes?
TF
Don't call us. We'll call you.
CR
IYSSSS, Teens!

*(Oh, I mean, bust my ba--chops. Yeah. My chops.)

CFR 9/23/24

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The GQ Affect: Botching the Bocce Batch.

9/16/2024

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Do gay men play bocce? Probably. As much as gay men play any sport.

Do Italian men play bocce? Yes. It's wildly popular in both Italy and with Italian-Americans. Well, maybe "wildly" is overstating it a bit.
Are there any gay Italians? No. At least, not according to my high-school classmate, Anthony R. One day in class, there was a casual discussion going on amongst myself and some of "the guys." Homosexuality came up during the conversation. By the time you're a senior in an all boy's school, the subject has lost a lot of it's, shall we say, novelty. I forget the specifics (the relative "gayness" of some Italian male person came up); and Anthony said, as he considered this, in all sincerity and with zero guile: "...yeah, but there are no gay Italians." To him, it was as though it was a mathematical proof. A scientific fact. There was no animosity in it. For him, it just was. I went to high school with a lot of Italian boys. Can you spot moi?* Anthony R. is on the bottom row, eleventh from the right.

Did we play bocce? Although there was no team, I'm sure some of us did!

When we think of bocce...when I think of bocce...I think of well dressed, older Italian men leisurely lobbing their balls down the bocce court. This is how it's often portrayed in movies. Usually with some jaunty Italian concerto on the soundtrack. I have never played; but I find it intriguing. Any fool can lob a ball, right? I do not picture someone like this next fellow:

I mean, I'm assuming it's a fellow. This person is modeling what we can assume is menswear as "he" is in the pages of a magazine with the word "Gentlemen" in the title. This is for Dior; and personally, I think that bow would be better suited on the back of a New Look cocktail dress. Here's our friend sporting a brooch:

Before we move on, can I just say: "Been there, done that." There was a very niche contingent of gay men in Boston, myself included, who were sporting the man-brooch. 84-85ish. It had a very brief window of time. Very New Wave-New Romantic. But we did it. It's been done. I can even trace it back to one fellow in particular. He was the host of the Empire Deli; a boho-Bos-O late night hang. Of course, our brooches were generally thrift store acquisitions. Or 5 and Ten Cent Stores you could find that still had them. The tackier and flashier and rhinestonier the better. Think Mrs. Howell on the cheap. A brooch on the lapel of a thrift store jacket over aa beat up tee and shredded jeans and combat boots. The brooch was ironic, in other words. But more just ironic, ironic. Not hip ironic: if that makes sense.
I bet the one our model is wearing costs a fortune. Let me see if I can find a price...

This is close enough. Silver plated brass and crystal. Yours for only $640.00.
In 1984 I probably would've dropped $1.64 for it at the Salvation Army in Lynn.
So, what am I getting at here? Well, I'll tell you...
MY BAD MOMENT!
My apologies. That fashion spread is not for Dior but rather for Dolce & Gabanna. Which is interesting because they are an Italian design team based out of Milan and both gents are from Sicily. I don't think you could get more Italian than that (except maybe the gay part; sorry Anthony...).
I couldn't find that exact brooch of theirs; but I think this one is close enough:

Again, what am I getting at here? I guess I'm just trying to figure out what it is that GQ magazine is trying to sell me. And I don't just mean the ads. I mean, their mission statement, I suppose. Back in the late 70s and early 80's it was pretty clear. They were selling The Great American Gay Dream. Or wet dream, more likely. And the models often were dripping wet: diving into and climbing out of pools. Cavorting in the surf. Showering....

This was what I was seeing when I first started picking up the magazine in my very early teens. How could anyone look like this unless they were on the Pepperdine Water Polo team? Well, a lot of them were. This was the fantasy of several men prominent at GQ at the time; none of whom bore even a passing resemblance to their subjects. Bruce Weber, Doanld Sterzin and art director Harry Coulianos.
Now, my mama always told me that if you didn't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. I'm not saying these men were homely. I can't even find a picture of Donald Sterzin, not even on his memorial page. Bruce Weber had been a model himself. Coulianos had a certain swarthy appeal too, I think.

Clearly though, his looks were light years away from Pepperdine. And Bruce W. had, shall we say, "let himself go" by the time he was photographing these Olympian demi-gods.

My beef with these men is that they created this aesthetic; their own personal fantasy of male attractiveness and pushed it. Hard. So hard, it lives on today. Well, at least until very fairly recently. I don't know if this bag--yes, an actual shopping bag from their store (Abercrombie and Fitch, that is)--features a Bruce Weber photo; but it has all the earmarks of his work.

A & F even had actual live shirtless jockola-studboy-hunks working shirtless in their stores. Boys built on the Bruce Weber blueprint. And I would hazard a guess that most of their business was from middle-aged gay men.
So GQ seems to be aimed at the hedge-fund-douche-bro set nowadays; but I find it truly hard to believe that any of those types of guys would actually wear the fashion stylings the magazine features and is so clearly trying to make happen. The man purse comes to mind. And I'm not talking about mens bags. I'm talking about purses. "Pockabooks" as my mother called them. The most recrent issue even has a spread all about adorning said bags with whimsical charms.
This is the kind of fellah I imagine sustains a magazine like GQ:

You know; a business bro who knows he looks good in a basic suit. Knows a good barber 'cuz he's smart enough to know that the classic mens hair cuts look the best on ALL men. Has some disposable income. Reads GQ to get some guidance on what's hot and trendy and in fashion for dudes in the 22 to 35 bracket. But come on...is he really going to carry this around?

Or purchase a "starter purse" or join the "dainty shoe revolution"? Yes, that latter was an actual phrase used in the latest issue. Actually, so was the former.
Said dainty shoes:

Said starter purse:

And let's just throw in these for absurdism purposes:

Decidedly not part of the dainty revolution; but who is it that wants to go around with a pair of burnished scrotums on their feet?
But maybe I'm wrong. I'm recalling the footwear trends for men in the mid 80's, which you can see on the feet of many of my high school classmates:

These were known as "Jazz shoes." Now, I don't recall ANY guy EVER in my high-school calling them that. This was simply the style that appeared on everyone's feet from about 1981 to 1985. Are they "dainty"? I'm gonna say, no. They're sleek and low slung. And they motherflippin' effed up your feet. NEGATIVE ZERO support. My feet are killing me just looking at them. Now, see, I had to one up this trend. I wanted what was known as the "Pixie boot." The pixie boot was a boot, usually ankle high that had a very low heel. Like a half an inch tops.

But the pixie boot was more of a style for the ladies. In fact, I had seen them on Olivia Newton-John during a televized concert and I HAD TO HAVE THEM! I mean they're essentially pirate boots; but as I said, they were more for the ladies; and I wasn't brave enought yet to boldly go where most women had gone before: that is, experiment with ladies clothes. Think the whole Steven Tyler thing and maybe even more Joe Perry!

Masshole, first from right. Second from left.

And then, one fine day, I found a pair of mens shoes with a flat heel. They were beige colored and were designed with a leather piece that attached to the opening and folded over; but the folded over piece could be pulled up, thus rendering the shoe a boot. They weren't meant to be worn that way; it was decidedly "off label"; but it perfectly suited my purposes. It wasn't exactly "butch" but it was masculine in a kind of Errol Flyn as Robin Hood sort of way. Please see ADDENDUM below for illustration.

And I do like a dash of the feminine in my wardrobe and nowadays, what with guys like Harry Styles and...some other guy...dressing in full on ladies separates it's a lot easier and less questioned. And I find you can really wear anything outre as long as you do it with utter confidence to the point where there is no self-consciousness.
So what's my problem with GQ, if they are putting forth looks for men that are decidedly androgynous and inclusive?
I don't know...maybe it's because someone like me would've gotten beaten up, possibly if I chose to carry a charm laden ladie's purse as recently as--well--last week, where I live. But now, because a magazine like GQ has given it the stamp of approval, it's okay; because even douche bros, thug boys, macho man movie stars and NFL players are rockin' the look. Yeah, I think that's it. I took a real risk walking around Boston in 1986 wearing a rhinestone brooch in public. But now watch any award show and it's like there was a fire sale at Brooches "R" Us. Even just a couple of years ago, Jim Halpert would've stared down the camera 'til the lens cracked on The Office (if they were still making The Office; but you know what I mean) if any of his male coworkers had worn a brooch. They would've built a whole mocking episode around it. But today?

Yeah. It kinda pisses me off. They're even calling it the "Bro Brooch." Gag me with a spoon! Did you pick out that brooch yourself dude or did some stylist tell you it was a trend?
I guess I see it as a kind of cultural appropriation. GAYPROPRIATION (TM/REG./PAT-PEND/ALL RIGHTS RESERVED) (formerly known as "Gay Trickle Down Fashion"). Remember when gay guys paired construction boots with shorts at risk of their own peril and then a few years later, every construction worker dude in the country looked like this:

Oh, wait a second...those guys are Aussies. They've been working this look since at least the 70's. The gays may have got it from them! Maybe more like this in the States:

Anyways...it just kind of bugs that these looks that a lot of "straight" dudes now just kind of have as a "go to" were once gay looks. Looks that back in the day you had to have some balls to wear on the street. Like seriously, could've been bashed for.
And what does any of this have to do with bocce ball you ask?
Well, I'll get into that and more in the next blog.
So, look for Mind Your G's and Q's: The Bocce Effect

CFR 9/26/24

ADDENDUM:
(9/30/25) JAZZ-SHOE TO PIXIE BOOT TRANSFORMANTION ILLUSTRATION:

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BATCHING IT! PART 4: WRAP-UP

9/11/2024

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So here is my version of what happened after Deadpool and Wolverine got it into their systems in the Honda Odyssey (TM). Hope you enjoy!
Oh, I was going to post this as a SCRIBD doc; but that seems to have disappeared from my menu (???). Then I posted it as a Word doc; but that seemed like it could be edited by whoever might choose to do so. So, I'm going to post the pages here as images. I'll put them in a grid; and hopefully, they'll be in the right order. And if that doesn't work, I'll come back and post each one individually. Here goes! On second thought...see below for the whole thing in LARGE PRINT.

This point pretty much wraps up what I had to say about GAYSPLOITATION. And Deadpool & Wolverine. And Brooney. Not quite, though, re: GQ. I will finish my thoughts on that topic in the next blog: The GQ Affect: Botching the Bocce Batch. Sounds intriguing!
So how about this? If you want to play at being gay, guys; fine. Go ahead. But I propose this: if you do within the confines of a filmed piece of media; you must self-police yourselves:

Artwork: Tom of Finland

You must include at least one unmistakeable man-on-man-or-man-on-mutant KISS. Even if it's simply a buss on the cheek. We must see at least one set of man-lips making contact with another man; even if that's someone kissing their own reflection (which probably wouldn't be hard to get).
Let's all follow the example of Masshole James Spader. He knows how to do it. Because if you seal it with a kiss, somehow, it makes it real. It's not a joke. It's putting your money where your mouth is, isn't it? Or vice-versa.

CFR 9/15/24

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ST. ELMO'S FIRE / RETRO-REVIEW - PART 2

9/8/2024

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When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light...

Now this is interesting, in light of the religious angle of this examination; and specifically the Gerogetown/Exorcist paralles. Billy Idol looms large in the apartment of Demi Moore's character, Jules. Why? He's never mentioned. It's never inquired of her as to why she went with this elaborate motif in her living room; and he's certainly not on the film's soundtrack. If we look at the video to his song "Eyes Without a Face," we see the image of his disembodied head floating in the blackness. It comes toward the camera as he begins to sing. I couldn't help but think of The Exorcist once again and an image that has come to represent the film in many ways; which is interesting, as it only appears for a fraction of a second in the original cut of the movie. It's a brief shot of the face of actress/stuntwoman Eileen Dietz, who doubled for Linda Blair in the film for certain scenes; particularly those where Linda was too young to enact what the script called for. Eileen also did some make-up tests for the face of the demon:

Of course they didn't go with this look; but Friedkin thought the image was so striking, he decided to "subliminally" plant it in Father Karras' dream sequence. Over the years, this has become known as the face of "Captain Howdy"; Regan's imaginary friend she speaks to through a Ouija board. I don't know...even knowing who and what it is, it's still super creepy. But here's Eileen at some length, grimacing in the make-up:

When you think of it more as a Japanese theatrical mask, it makes it a little easier to look at. Maybe.

Or, as Ms. Dietz's actual face, which is quite pretty.

So what does all this have to do with SEF? Well, how about Demi Moore is the Virgin Mary and Ron the decorator is none other than...Jesus Christ?

Now, actually, I'm not even sure what I mean...so let's figure it out together!
Okay, I'm not going to analyze the movie on a scene by scene basis. Just observations about the film as they come to mind. I should mention that in part one of this blog, I implied that Rob Lowe's friends abandoned him--after he was arrested--to go hang at St. Elmo's. I was wrong. They do, in fact, bail him out and he joins them afterwards at their fave hang; so I guess they're not that execrable.
Looking at imagery from the sets of Jules' apartment and the adjoining hallway, several ideas and themes seem to become evident. The color pink, for one, which is of course a shade of red. But let's look at the still of "Ron the Decorator" as he stands outside the door of his apartment; having been summoned by Jules to meet Kevin (Andrew McCarthy) in attempt at match-making the two men. Ron is wearing bright green pants and holding a bright red drink. We can assume it's a strawberry margarita, a drink that was wildly popular in the mid-80's (more than likely frozen). True green and red. Well, what does that bring to mind? Christmas. We've already seen red and green on the Billy character, in first few frames of the film. Interestingly, Billy was cloaked in a jet black graduation gown. And here, Ron is also "cloaked" in a heavy black sweater. A paralell, then, between these two characters? Directly behind Ron is the front door to his apartment; it's crossbeam forming a crucifix. Actually a double crucifix; one rightside up and the other upside down, more or less. An extremely similar door features in EX:

Interestingly, by this door and also the one in Jules' apartment, there is a long staff with a hook. In the EX, we find out this is used to open the attic door, which is in the ceiling. In SEF, we don't know what it is; but it's certainly too long to be a walking stick or umbrella. But here it is, in both movies. To clarify: I do not know if these choices/images in SEF that came twelve years after The Ex are intentional or not; I am merely pointing them out when I see them and drawing paralells. The interesting thing is that I keep finding them. Perhaps the production designer on SEF watched EX for inspiration about Georgetown interiors. And these, interestingly, are the only two major studio films I can think of that are so decidedly set in that neighborhood.

So Ron is in red and green, standing in front of a cross and holding a drink with a strawberry perched on the glass. Now this gets interesting; and I did not know this before I started doing a bit of research. The strawberry is a traditional symbol of Christ and The Virgin Mary.

Before we get back to strawberries (and I will more than likely be jumping around here a lot); and in regards to the window motif of the film, we can see quite markedly in Jule's apartment, the outlines of the opposite windows being cast by the light coming through them. In particular, another series of crucifixes aligned on her door which also has built in crucifixes:

The window and the door are both major visual elements of EX. We also see, quite markedly in the above shot, the use of pink and baby blue in the color scheme. That pair of colors is a traditional indicator of "male" (baby blue) and "female" (pink) for babies. So, we are connecting Jules' living space to babies; perhaps the most famous baby for the past two thousand years being Jesus.
If we watch Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" video we can only see at as one thing, I think, as it has no "plot." The images don't even particularly mesh with the song lyrics. Let's look at those:

So, if you watch the video for "Eyes Without A Face," I think you can only see it as some kind of ritual. A ritual by fire. A ring of fire. Or more precisely, a hexagon of fire. Perhaps a pentagram would've been a little too obvious for a video which clearly depicts someone being initiated into a coven of some kind. I guess a hexagram is the next best thing. Or, wait...is it an octagon? Maybe this is just a straight up satanic ritual? It sure looks like one! And this video was just par for the course on MTV back in the day.
MOM
Hey Chris, what are you watching?
CHRIS
Oh, it's MTV.
MOM
Who is that?
CHRIS
Oh, that's Billy Idol.
MOM
What's he doing?
CHRIS
I think he's being initiated into a Satanic cult.
MOM
Oh, that's nice. Did you mow the lawn?
This kind of imagery was pretty common in rock videos. No one even gave it a second thought, not even Tipper Gore. It was the 80's.
Now, I don't know if Billy was a practicing Satanist. Probably not. It was more, I think, rock-and-roll-cool-bad-boy hyperbole. But the video for that song also features barred windows, which see later in SEF when Jules is attempting to freeze herself to death.

I think we do have, on some level, some kind of religious theme happening in SEF. Now, if the other Billy--that is, Rob Lowe's "Billy"--does in some way represent a kind of "Lucifer" figure and Ron the Decorator is a kind of Christ figure; are the two in some way vying for Jules? Interestingly, an infant does figure into the plot. Rob's character has a baby. I'm not sure if we ever find out if it's a boy or a girl. So, we have a baby who's dad might be the devil. And interestingly, later in the movie, Billy attempts to forcibly have sex with Jules. What could this mean? I'm not sure but it does seem as though the characters are all somehow under the sway of Billy/Lucifer in some way. Is he tempting them all to sin? Is this why they are all in some kind of purgatory? They must send him off and away on a bus at the end of the movie in order to be free of him. But, like Lucifer, he has literally shown them the light. Jules acts as a proxy for the group when it is Billy who "saves" her life; explains to her what "St. Elmo's Fire" actually is and then even shoots flame through the air. And what's up with that terrifying clown face? Another link to the face of "Captain Howdy" from EX? It's a horror in it's own right.

And again, I can't help but be reminded of this scene from EX that has a similar depiction of flame, as Ellen Burstyn looks for the source of mysterious noises in her Georgetown attic:

Here's another startlingly similar visual. The scene where Billy climbs out the window of Mare Winningham's parent's house. It could be the same house from EX. It's even lit the same way.

Here's another strange element of SEF that I've noticed while rewatching in order to write about it. And I must confess, I'm growing tired of writing about it. The movie refuses to grow on me. It's just as dumb after the fifth watch as the first watch. But, we press on.
Now this seemed odd to me. Judd Nelson and Ally Sheedy have very similar hair cuts in this movie. In fact, they're almost identical. Parted in the same spot and combed in the same direction. Why? Is Jules theory that Kevin is in love with Alec not all that off the mark; that is, if you view Ally as an "Alec" substitue? Alec and Leslie are even dressed similarly, Leslie often in rather masculine "yuppie" looks. Wearing Alec's pajamas in the one scene where we see them kiss.

Is this Joel Schumacher's subtle way of working in a love triangle between three men; one of them a woman standing in for and thus becoming the true love interest? I don't think that's so far fetched. Here's an interesting idea: much like the characters on Gilligan's Island, are the characters in SEF arechetypes. Archetypes for the Seven Deadly Sins? Can we match up the characters from both to the sin they might represent? Let's try!
Judd Nelson as Alec Newbary I think is a close match to Thurston Howell:
GREED

Jim Backus as Thurston Howell III

A bit of a rethink here. I think we need to post Demi Moore as "Jules" for Greed. Makes better sense.

ENVY is clearly Andrew McCarthy as "Kevin." And he would match up with Mary Ann (Dawn Wells) from GI.

GLUTTONY, I think, would be Ally Sheedy's "Leslie." She wants stuff, including two guys at the same time. She would coincide with Gilligan (Bob Denver), who was always scarfing down coconut cream pies.

So then, Judd would match up with the Skipper (Alan Hale Jr.) and we'd have WRATH; as both were hot-heads and hitting Gilligan with their hat or giving Rob Lowe toilet swirlies (also, a scene I've never understood--would Rob really have let Judd do that and if he did, barely have any reaction to it? I mean, it's the toilet bowl in the bathroom of a college hang-out men's bathroom. WTF Alec?).

Those eyes! I hear and obey!

PRIDE: Mare Winningham as "Wendy" and The Professor. Or, rather, that's Russell Johnson as the professor, not Mare...and the rest...

LUST: Emilio Estevez as "Kirbo" and Tina Louise as Ginger.

And finally, SLOTH. Which brings us those the lay-abouts, Mrs. Howell (a.k.a. "Lovey" played by the ever delightful Natalie Schafer) and Rob Lowe's "Billy Hicks."

Rob Lowe as "Billy Hicks" has a cigarette in his hand in every official publicity photo for SEF. Interesting! Where there's smoke, there's theory...

There's also the theory that the characters of Gilligan's Island are trapped in some kind of limbo, which is why they can never get off the island. Can our Georgetown grads ever get out of Georgetown? I guess we'll have to explore that in a further blog. And other things, like, did Mare Winningham become pregnant when she hooked up with Rob Lowe in the movie? Now we're getting into Rosemary's Baby territory. But, as I said, I'm a little St. Elmoed out. But I will listen to Joel Schumacher's director's commentary to see if I can glean any further clues as I watch the movie again. In the meantime, here's a link to an article by Mr. Schumacher's co-writer, Carl Kurlander. And Carl, if you get hired to write the sequel which seems to be happening, and you need some ideas--you know I have a few! Call me!

deadline.com/2024/06/andrew-mccarthy-hulu-docu-brats-carl-kurlander-lingering-smoke-from-st-elmos-fire-guest-column-and-brat-pack-1235977072/

Ciao!

CFR 10/01/24

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BATCHING IT - PART 3 / BROONEY VS. RYJACK / and...can we talk about GQ?

9/4/2024

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Okay Chris, that's a photo of Mr. Pitt from the GQ photo shoot.
The "Brooney" photo shoot, I'm calling it.
Why?
I decided to give Brad and George one of those mash-up, celebrity couple names, you know; for their bromance.
Why?
I want it to sweep the nation. Nay, the GLOBE!
Whatevs. Anyways, I believe they're calling that a "blended name." And I believe it's also a portmanteau word. In any event, I like Brad's purple outfit.
I do too. To a point. Sagittarians look awesome in purple. It's otherwise a really difficult color to--
So, get to the point.
Okay, first of all, we need to talk about GQ magazine and if it has an "agenda" because if it does, they've totally confused me.
Do you read the magazine?
Yes. More like skim it. Oh a portmanteau is a kind of suitcase, by the way.

Hey wait a minute. We're talking about Brad and George here; and GQ! You can find a better portmanteau than that.
Okay, how about this?

Now that's a suitcase! I don't even want to ask the price...
Oh, we don't talk about price at GQ anymore.
We don't?
If you have to ask, you can't afford it.
Then who are these clothes for? I mean, let's examine Brad's outfit.
The purple one?
Yeah.
It's really more a maroon, don't you--
Whatever.
Now, that shirt, which let's face it, is a blouse; I , for one love. I had several like it back in the day; but they're hard to find nowadays. As a matter of fact, I love that style so much I even have a couple that are actually women's garments; but they fit me, so I wear them. I guess it's the most masculine, ultra-feminine look there is?
Outside of the puffy shirt.
Well, yeah. Not that there's anything wrong with puffy shirts...

The ladies seem to love 'em! But I do love me a silk blouse. The one brad is wearing is by Anthony Vaccarello for Yves Saint Laurent. Remember when they used to tell you the prices of the garments in the fashion spreads? Well, not any more. I guess the editors don't want people scoffing/choking/tossing the magazine into the trash when they get a load of the cost.
How much is the shirt?
Guess.
Ah...$350.00?
Higher.
$500.00?
Higher.
$1000.00?
Higher.
Oh, just tell me.
ONE THOUSAND NINE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS. That's, $1,950.00.
Wow. That shirt would be trash after one night at the disco, which is really the only place you could wear it.
And they say Brad eschews the ole Speedstick. And bathing all together, I guess.
Well, I'll believe that when I smell it.
Those pants are the bomb. I love the single, inverted pleat.
Me too! Also hard to find. Oh, the pants are twenty-two hundred. The shoes are around nine hundred and his "belt" is about five hundred. So, all together that one outfit is about fifty-five hundred dollars. Now, can I just add that I think even Brad can't pull off that "belt"? The scarf/necktie as belt is the proprietary property of Fred Astaire and should remain so. Also, no man can pull off an ear flower anywhere other than one of the Hawaiian islands. Maybe Fiji, even.
Who can afford that outfit? I mean, other than Brad Pitt or George Clooney? Who even reads GQ?
I used to. In fact, I started reading it in the late 70's and early 80's when I first was becoming interested in fashion.
Wasn't the magazine kind of...gay, then.
Like super gay! Super-duper gay even! It was the era of Bruce Weber and boy do I have a bone to pick with him, so to speak.
Lay it on me Reidy!
The year was 1981ish. Women were women and had to deal with sexism. Men were men and didn't. Not, that is, until this appeared above Times Square:

That's an iconic image in so many ways. What's your beef, Chris?
My beef is that this image became so ubiquitous in not just gay male circles but all male circles; that it caused men to have, particularly gay men, to live up to some nearly unobtainable "ideal" of male beauty. "This is what I'm supposed to look like?" I recalled asking myself. Not only thin, but muscular and Apollolonialy handsome?
Women have had to deal with that shit since the dawn of time. Try looking like Twiggy. Or Cindy Crawford. Or Tyra Banks. Or Kate "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" Moss.
No, you're absolutely right. But this image made it even harder for a man to be gay, even within the gay community.
How?
Well, now he not only had to worry about coming out in a hostile world; but coming out in a community that expected him to look like this and in many ways rejected him if he didn't. And I have to lay the blame for this at GQ's doorstep. And its wunderkind photographer of the time, Mr. Bruce Weber. And I guess we need to include Calvin Klein as well.
What did Weber do?
I would argue he pushed an aesthetic that was dishonest on a core level.
How so?
Well, first of all, he was extremely coy about his own sexuality.
So?
He was pushing photos of male pulchritude and not being forthright about his own attraction to his subjects; and that he was indeed pushing this propaganda.
Propaganda?
Fashion propaganda.
How was he being coy?
Oh, I recall at the time whenever he was asked about the homoeroticism of his photos and the unbelievable beauty of his male subjects--the implication being put forth: "Are you into guys, Bruce?" His response would be vague and he'd mention his wife and the wholesomeness of the straight "boys" and not cop to what he was doing.
What was he doing?
Well, gaysploitation. He may have invented it.

And I'm sorry; but that stupid, ubiquitous bandana on his head.
You sound mad.
I am. It points up his dishonesty.
About what?
Going bald.
Now you're being bitchy.
Am I?
So, show me a "gaysploitative" Bruce Weber photo.
Okay, how about this?

Well that's just three guys in a car...
Is it though? How about this?

Well, that's simply two bros who like to hang out and strike identical poses--hey, wait a second--are they twin brothers?
Looks like it.
Sure, they're just brothers who like to hang out together; 'cuz, you know, twins.
And wear matching, complementary outfits?
Sure, twins do stuff like that all the time!
When they're in their early 20's?
Well, ah...sure...sure they do!
'Memba this?

Is that Matt Damon?
Indubitably.
He was in the Navy?
Sure.

Okay, maybe dressing Matt Damon like a sailor-boy is a bit on the nose; but that doesn't mean that Mr. Weber--
Turns out, he's been accused of all kinds of sexual misconduct and sued by male models and settled out of court, yada-yada -yada. So, basically he was creeping and skeezing and sleazing during his Wholesome-All-American-Male Photofests. And I don't have to use the word "allegedly."
So, you feel this points up a sort of hypocrisy?
Oh, sort of.
What's he photographing now?
Oh, absolutely nothing that could be seen as gaysploitation!

You seem to have a chip on your shoulder re: Bruce W.
You know, if he'd just been honest forty-two years ago and been like, "Yeah, I'm hot for these dudes and want every man in America to look like them, even though they can't--it's all a fantasy..." Maybe I wouldn't.
Getting back to Brad and George. How is their photo shoot "gaysploitation"? Maybe it's a good thing, like you seem to think the Grant/Scott pictures were.
Okay, here's the thing. This is what I have the problem with. Let's say there's this imaginary line. Let's call it the "Queerdadero Line."
Meaning...
Meaning, that on one side of the line you're playing with being gay. Being insincere about it. Exploiting it for whatever reason; be that to shock, to titillate, to push an envelope, because it's a fad... not being honest about what you're up to with your photography...because you feel superior to it. That it's something not to take seriously. On the other side of the line is being honest about being gay--and I'm talking about gay men here and what they do--depicting gayness without ironic quotes. It seems to me that Brad and George and Deadpool and Wolverine are coming right up to that line without daring to cross over it--
Why wouldn't they cross over it?
Because then they really would be "gay." What if instead of just matching turtlenecks and lavendar pajamas and twee teacups, there was a picture of Brad and George in a bed, in their underwear with their arms around one another?
Well, they couldn't do that. They'd be crossing the Queerdadero Line.
That's my point.

And the Deadpool movie is even worse.
Why?
Because they're marketing the film by straddling, if not crossing, the Queerdadero Line and not being honest about it within the story the movie is telling.
Can you elaborate?
Sure. If you read reviews of the movie, reviewers--mostly male--keep referencing Deadpool/Wade Williams/Ryan Reynolds non-stop stream of verbal "gay panic."
What's "gay panic"?
(SIGHS) Let's ask HAL to define it for us; because I don't feel like it. Here's the genesis term:

Perverse Sexual Cravings. Well that's kind of a blanket term. Now this has been coopted legally for people who commit crimes against gays and want to blame the gay(s).

Which kind of makes you wonder why there's no Heterosexual Panic for gays and/or Straight Panic Defense for when we gays are charged with violent crimes against heterosexual individuals for unwanted sexual advances. But I think we may be straying too far afield.
So, does Deadpool panic gaily? Does he commit violent crimes against homosexuals?
Well, he's constantly impaling people with knives, swords and adamantium thigh bones; like dozens of them. Often up the butt. And it's pretty violent. I suppose some of them might be homosexuals.
Is Wolverine a homosexual?
You'd have to ask him. But he's definitely an interspecies mutantsexual.
Is Deadpool an interspecies mutantsexual?
I'm gonna say yes. As long as the species/mutant has a vagina.
Chris, I thought we were keeping this "cute."
Okay. As long as the species/mutant has a lady cannoli.
Deadpool kept mentioning "pegging." What's that?
That's when a male man/mutant allows a lady to do him up his dude-Rolo with a happy-strap-on-ding-dong in order to ring his bell. I guess Deadpool is into getting his CocoaPuff chuffed that way.
But only if it's female?
Only.
Why wouldn't Deadpool want his chocolate donut glazed by a male? Because of his gay panic?
You know, I didn't see him panicing so much as enthusiastic, hard-sell hinting.
Why doesn't Wolverine take him up on it, so to speak.
Well, in a way he does.
He does?!!?

Kinda. Oh, I've also come up with a portmanteau name for Wolverine and Deadpool: Wolverpool. Or if you prefer, one for Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman: RyJack; as the characters and actors are basically interchangeable in this endeavour.
I think I like "Ryjack." You know, 'cuz Ryan is so "wry" and Hugh is so...jacked?
Works for me!
Where's their suitcase?
How 'bout this?

But Hugh is Australian and Ryan is Canadian.
And they're both tourists. In America! Get it?
Oh, yeah...sure. That's, ah, really clever. I wonder why that gorilla is so mad.
Well, look at his living space. Can you blame him? But that's another blog. But speaking of pounding things; let's take a look at this clip which I feel is as much a symbolic sex scene as it is an ostensible fight.
You really like that ostensible word.
I do, obstensibly.

So, how is this a sex scene?
Well how many impalements and penetrations do you need?
Is it subconscious on the part of the filmmakers?
What do you think, based on all the double entendre marketing and using "You're The One That I Want" from Grease over it all?
Grease is the word!
TIME FOR A GREASE BREAK!

You know, I think that movie has some of the best visual compositions for the widescreen, ever.
Never mind that. How is Deadpool and Wolverine's violent fight, "lovemaking," in your opinion?
Well, the motor vehicle is a pretty commonplace (and a common place) for schtupping. And then there's "make-up" sex. And they keep piercing and piercing one another when they know neither can die; so that would be pointless; but it does give them and excuse for close body contact, bodily fluid exchange, heavy breathing, etc. That and that Deadpool has been talking nonstop about pegging, cinnamon rings and using Wolverine's helmet wings as knob-slobbing handles.
I think I'm starting to get it. So the idea is, let's have Wolverine and Deadpool f*** the shit out of one another but do it with swords and stuff instead of penises and have the copious amounts of blood stand in for...what's the word? Keep it cute--
Splooge?
Yeah that. And that way, they don't have to cross the Queerorama line.
Queerdadero.
Whatever.
And using a song from a movie that appeals highly to teenage girls and also the childish use of pre-adolescent romantic expressions, such as the heart with the loved one's initials within renders everything a joke we can all just giggle at, like schoolboys.
And that takes us back to gaysploitation. Although, looking at the scene again, by the end of it, they're like literally talking about f***ing; so the movie gets to have it's cake and eat it too!
Yes! Time for a cake break!

You know, I think Cake By The Ocean would've been much better over Deadpool and Woverine's fake-f*** scene. The tempo is better and the song is more open and overtly abput perverse sexual cravings.
I think I read somewhere the original title was "F*** By The Ocean." And it does include that word. They didn't let that through on the radio, did they?
I'm thinking it was bleeped, maybe?
Maybe. So, any last thoughts, Chris?
Of course!
Lay 'em on me baby!
Okay, so these Deadpool movies are supposed to be so "cutting edge" with their envelope pushing contents and obscene language and casual violence and ostensible alternative-sexuality-inclusivity; so why didn't we get an actual sex scene between Deadpool and Wolverine? Like and honest to goodness: oh, we're going there scene where the two dudes get it on; kinda like in CRASH when James Spader goes for it with Elias Koteas. LIke, no giggling; like, oh, this is really happening and you know what? It's HOT.

Was that gaysploitation?
That movie was pretty up front about everything it presented; so, no. And I gotta say, James Spader was/is a pretty fearless actor.
Isn't he from Massachusetts?
Masshole born and raised!
So Chris, how would you write the Wolverine & Deadpool "love" scene.
Well, there are several way you could go, so to speak.
I'm listening...
You could play the gay scene straight.
Wait, what?
That is to say, you could do it honestly and straightforwardly. They're squabbling and scrapping...they stop to breathe...look into each other's eyes...kiss deeply...profess their true feelings and "make love" in the back of the Honda. That doesn't exactly fit the tone of this movie though--
No, it doesn't.
And I don't think this movie and its depiction of these characters is worthy of it.
What else could we do?
A super hard "R" kind of Paul Verhoven type thing that comes as close to porn as possible.
No. It's Dizzney. Not gonna happen.
Or, you could make it comedic. Keep everyone's blades sheathed, so to speak; but they do have sex.
Let's go with that! Will you write it?
Sure. You know, watching the movie, I was thinking that the Honda Odyssey had to be nothing more than product placement. I have never known that car to be thought of as lame, goofy, nerdy or comedic; which the movie kept telling me it was. There is one vehicle, however, that meets all that criteria and then some. The Pontiac Aztek. I found a commercial that synchronicitously synched up with what I had in mind. Let's take a look!

Well now, that was lame!
So, I'm almost finished with what I'm calling The Deadpool & Wolverine Love Scene; but I really want to wrap this up. And I also have more I want to say about GQ magazine and my Theory of Coats and so on...so I will post the "love scene" in an upcoming blog. In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen and all, I will post the remainder of the Cary Grant and Randolph Scott "roommate" pictures. After this word from, Renuzit!

It seems as though every time you think you've found all of these photos, another one pops up...

For further reading on Cary and Randolph and Gay Quarterly--oh, I mean Gentleman's Quarterly; check out the following:www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/cary-grant-randolph-scott-hollywood-story

Also: www.gq.com/story/it-all-started-here-the-gay-legacy-of-gq

Please see: Batching It Part 4; Wrap-Up for next installment!

CFR 9/1/24

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