Tarhearted.

HALLOWEEN.

Happy Halloween, witches.

I'll be attending the Fangoria Halloween party, which is sure to be interesting. I'm going as an abortionist. I leave you with the only thirty seconds I could find of "Get Dead" the brilliant musical number from the seminal 1985 film The Midnight Hour. It starred Sherri Belafonte and that guy from Reading Rainbow, respectively.

This is a personal blog and not really a political forum, but it's hard to not be political when so much is on the line and emotions are running so high.

I've been watching the progress of Proposition 8 in California very closely. For those who might not know, gay marriage became legal recently in California and Prop 8 would overturn that ruling with a constitutional amendment defining marriage as between a man and a woman.

I really cannot understand why somebody would wish to enshrine bigotry into their constitution. And yes, it is bigotry. Your religion is not a valid excuse to deny tax paying citizens rights that you yourself have always enjoyed. Sometimes I wish some of these people would come have dinner with me and The Boyfriend (who might be The Husband in more enlightened times) at our house and see that we are a normal couple.

I don't see how people can fight so hard to deny me equal rights and then say it isn't personal, but rather an attempt to preserve "traditional marriage". If it isn't personal, then why does it hurt so bad? I can tell you that it feels personal. After all, it's my family the repercussions effect, not theirs.

Anyway, the "Yes on 8" folks sent the "No on 8" folks sent a letter asking them to have a public debate to discuss the effect Prop 8 would have on schools. The "No on 8" folks response is brilliant:

FSchubert102808 - Upload a Document to Scribd

By the way, it looks like the "Yes on 8" people are winning. Please vote "no" if you care about family values such as decency, empathy, justice and equality.

I'll go back to posting obscure disco videos shortly.

CONKEL RUINS LIVES.

Thanks for this, Katie.

COVER ART.

As much as I love Halloween, I sort of don't feel like doing anything this year. I plan on attending this, but other than that I think I'll just force my newly adopted kitty, Gus, to wear glasses and a sweater vest. It sounds so nice just to sit at home and watch horror movies with The Boyfriend all night.

The older I get the more I just want to ignore holidays completely. There's so much pressure to have an amazing life-changing time that usually just the opposite happens. Halloween isn't so bad. I mean, it's not New Year's Eve, which is the worst. I'll never forget the New Year's Eve on which I found myself stuck in Bushwick with complete strangers who were still trying to score coke at 7:00 am on January 1st when all i wanted to do is get home. Never again. That's so my early twenties.

Anyway, I love horror films. Maybe it's because my mother would never let me watch them. I vividly remember being at the video store and begging my mother to let me rent Gator Bait or Chopper Chicks in Zombie Town and always leaving with something like Care Bears: The Movie instead. Child abuse, I say!

The again, how was my mother to know that these clam shelled works of art would leave such a stamp on my future work as a writer for the theatah? Each one of these beauties left a permanent mark on my psyche and for that I want to salute them.

Let's revisit some, shall we?

April Fool's Day

This is actually a really great movie, despite not having a single character appear with noose hair at any point.  The cover art would have permanent ramifications on my dedication to beauty and extreme fashion. Quelle chic!

Blood Beach

Okay, mom was probably right about this one. I was deeply disturbed by the cover and it caused an -- er-- incident at the Gulf of Mexico. I like her bikini though.

Sleepaway Camp

Again, an awesome movie with the best ending ever. I liked how on the back of the box there was a frightened kid's letter home to his parents that eventually scrawls off, as if her were attacked while writing it.

Gator Bait

I think I see this chick on Bedford Avenue all the time in the summer.

More to come!

GOLD.

I've written about the amazingness of Amanda Lear countless times, both here and on other blogs, but I wanted to quickly point out that her video for "Gold" is the most aesthetically pleasing piece of video ever.

I'm going to have her arrested. SHE STOLE MY MOVES.

CREATING REM LEZAR.

My new favorite movie is the 1989 classic, Creating Rem Lezar. Here is a user written synopsis from IMDB, paragraph rules be damned:

Synopsis

Zack gets in trouble during class for daydreaming about a superhero named Rem Lezar, and is sent to the principal's office. After a discussion about his classroom behavior, he storms out upset that no one understands him and that he isn't the problem but that the adults are. Later in art class, Zack sculpts a model of Rem Lezar, of which Ashlee notices and has also dreamed about and has drawn a picture of. Ashlee is the first person to believe that Rem Lezar is more than imaginary, but she will not speak to Zack as long as he keeps up his sexist attitude. The two decide to bring Rem Lezar to life. That day, the two obtain a male mannequin, though by what means is not explained, and dress it up like Rem Lezar. Rem Lezar hears their desires and comes to life most unexpectedly. He can live but one single day unless they find the Quixiotic Medallion, which has the power to keep Rem alive. The fear-mongering face, Vorock, tells them it is hidden at the height of imagination and that some never find it in the course of their entire life time. The three must search for the medallion, but do not know where to look. Zack believes that it would be at the top of the Twin Towers, whereas Ashlee believes it to be in the mountains. They search both locations with no luck, only to discover that the highest point of imagination is love.

Tagline:

• "Every child has a Rem Lezar."

Enjoy this first part of the film, which sets it up beautifully:

For those of you with a shorter attention span, a highlight/musical number:

ASKING 4 TROUBLE.

My first piece as a member of EST's Youngblood goes up TOMORROW, y'all. It's called Up With (Some) People and it concerns a wealthy young couple playing tennis at their country club when all of a sudden the rapture begins.

I'm really proud of it and blown away by my two amazing actors, Robert Askins (a fellow Youngblood playwright) and Teresa Stephenson, respectively. The director, Jamie Richards, is brilliant and helped me so much through the writing process that I wish I could have her around always. Thank the gay gods for Youngblood, because I would never get to work with a director of Richards' calibur ordinarily.

Anyway, please come see my piece if you can. It's in Series B. Reservations are essential.

Tuesday, October 21 through Saturday, October 25.

Series B: Tues 10/21 @ 9pm; Fri 10/24 @ 7pm; Sat 10/25 @ 4pm

Written by: Jesse Cameron Alick, Emily Conbere, Joshua Conkel, Amy Fox*, Mira Gibson, Graeme Gillis*, Ross Maxwell, Michael Sendrow, Lucy Thurber, Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder

Directed by: Abigail Zealey Bess*, Evan Cabnet, Andrew Grosso, Kel Haney, Jamie Richards*, Erica Saleh, Marc Santa Maria, R.J. Tolan*, Birgitta Victorson, Kim Weild

Featuring: Polly Adams*, Jake Aron, Robert Askins, Alana Barrett, Kit Bihun, William Carden*, Chelsey Donn, Bjorn DuPaty, Stephen Ellis, Julie Fitzpatrick*, Sharon Freedman, Enzo Gentile, Kristen Harlow, Helen Highfield, Jenny Kirlin, Diana LaMar*, Courtney Lauria, Matt Lauria, Mordecai Lawner*, Josh Lefkowitz, Jodi Lin, Thomas Lyons*, Ellen Mareneck*, Jane Pfitsch, Shawn Randall, Justin Reinsilber, Teresa Stephenson, Caroline Strong, Naomi Warner, Chris Wight*

for tickets, call (212) 247-4982 x105
tickets to any series are just $10

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

My friend Ingo brought this to my attention:

(click for full image)

Ha ha ha ha ha!

See, political and economical reasons aside, this is a prime example of why I would never shop at Wal-Mart. I mean, let's be honest... that burrito stood a 50/50 chance of actually being a newborn.

NEWSLASH: BARACK OBAMA IS A BLACK MAN.

Gawker posted these amazing (read: terrifying) highlights from The New York Times article that asks people about sexy, sexy Barack Obama and race.

(Edit: Is it just me or is this the HOTTEST picture of Obama?)

I was just saying to The Boyfriend last night how surprised I was by all the retarded speech that was popping up in regards to Obama. Like the crazy old bat who said Obama was an Arab, thereby forcing McCain to freak out and correct her.

To her, "Arab" means terrorist. Are these two words really synonymous to Americans now? Judging from McCain's reaction you would have thought the woman claimed Obama was a baby molester. My question is: so what if Barack Obama was an Arab? Why couldn't an Arab make a good President?

Then there's the crazy old coot filmed carrying a stuffed monkey with an Obama sign on its head. Really?

I was so naive. I actually thought that racism was sequestered to the margins and that, for the most part, we lived in post-racist times.

I know, I know... what a dumb faggot I was.

PETS OR MEAT.

I know a lot of people find the artist Banksy a little insufferable, and I kind of get why. His pieces sell for a trillion dollars each, which sort of goes against who he is (whomever he is) and it seems like it would be more difficult than it is for somebody who remains anonymous to appear smug.

That said, I really like Banksy's work. I especially like his new installment that quietly opened a few weeks ago on 7th Avenue and that at first glance appears to be a pet shop. Upon entering however we see that things are not quite what they seem.

By using animatronics for the first time in his work, Banksy treats us to chicken nuggets with legs that sip from barbecue sauce, a rabbit wearing lipstick busily filing her nails, and living hot dogs and sausages that slither around tanks like reptiles. IT'S. FUCKING. AWESOME.

Not so awesome was the mini-tanaholic from the Upper East Side I overheard talking to one of the gallerists.

TINY BITCH: What is this place?

WORKER: It's a gallery.

TINY BITCH: But for what?

WORKER: Art.

TINY BITCH: But there's no art here. It's just, like, stuff.

UGH. You could tell her whole family was stupid.