Gadzooks, I Hate Them

Man, it's been a busy week, and I have so many topics which I haven't had time to cover... I think I will spend a good portion of the coming week catching up. I just wanted to quickly put up a post saying that the fucking Republicans fucking suck. After years of using first responders as props, and portraying anyone who didn't support the Iraq invasion as an Islamofaciunamericanandproblyafagtoboot, they deny a bill to pay for healthcare for the very people they used as props.

As a New Yorker, I say, "Fuck the fucking fuckers!"

I hope to put up another post tonight after working an event. Like I said, I've been busy busy busy.

The Most Carnivorous Night EVER!!!

Last night was the fifth annual Carnivorous Nights Taxidermy Contest. Originally conceived as a one-off event, inspired by the unsettling "Rump Ape" (a simian simulacrum crafted from the rump of a white-tailed deer) and promoting the engaging Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger by Friends of the Bastard Margaret Mittelbach and Michael Crewdson. Five years later, the continuing event sold out a 300 seat venue. Holy catfish, who knew it would take off like it did? The event is a very tongue-in-cheek celebration of "Rogue Taxidermy". Being co-sponsored by the Secret Science Club (SSC goddess Dorian Devins was a judge, SSC goddess Margaret Mittelbach was MC), I attend the event out of solidarity with my people. Last night, I actually presented one of the exhibits, sent by Peter Cua, a genius of an artist from Singapore, who was unable to attend. After my traditional "Carnivorous Night" meal of a spleen sandwich, I headed down to the Bell House for the event. I had my prepared "Shaggy Dog Story" statement (approved by Peter himself), which I read after fortifying myself with two (and no more!) pints of brew:


I feel somewhat unworthy to present these specimens, which were made by Dr Peter Cua of the island nation of Singapore. Dr Cua was unable to attend this event, so you got me... a smartass presenting the work of a genius.

Dr Cua's dream to perfect the miniaturization of taxidermy specimens began with the demise of his beloved pet impala- he had wanted to mount and display it in his home, but his apartment was too small to accommodate such a large specimen, as well as his other belongings... a plight that residents of Brooklyn will no doubt understand.

Dr Cua drew inspiration from the indigenous Jivaro people of South America, and traveled to the Amazon basin to learn their methods for shrinking preserved heads for ritual purposes. While effective, the traditional methods were time consuming, and often messy. During a hiatus in his studies, he recalled a time when he mounted a prize marlin caught by a retired American astronaut living in Singapore… while he met with this client, he was served a sample of freeze-dried space ice cream. Inspiration hit- he would combine traditional Jivaro techniques and cutting-edge NASA technology to form a new field- shrinkadermy through freeze-drying.

As luck would have it , Dr Cua’s initial efforts in this new field coincided with the rise of a multi-nation space program- Dr Cua was approached by a high-ranking official in the International Space Agency, who told him that Russian cosmonauts had been prone to depression brought on by the sterile décor of the MIR space station. In an effort not to repeat this morale problem in the International Space Station, the agency wanted the interior of one of the station’s modules to resemble a rustic cabin, or hunting lodge. Of course, mounted trophies weighed too much for the launch vehicles, and would have taken up too much room in the space station. Through his genius and hard work, Dr Cua was able to shrink bear and moose heads to mount on the bulkheads of the International Space Station, thereby ushering in a new era of rustic charm in outer space. Having planned a manned space flight in 2011, the Chinese Space Agency has consulted with Dr Cua, who is currently preparing some mounted shrinkadermy specimens, so the Chinese space capsule will look like a charming Sichuan farm village, thus giving the astronauts a feeling of nostalgic warmth as they hurtle through the void, because (as Roberto Montalban so memorably said) "It is very cold in space".

Dr Cua has also expressed his desire to show gratitude to the Jivaro people for their tutelage, and is planning on building an extensive freeze-drying facility in the Amazon Basin. Because of his commitment to sustainable development and green technology, he is planning to power this facility with an array of electric eels, which are indigenous to the region.

When asked to reflect on his career, Dr Cua has only two regrets. The first is that the non-avian dinosaurs died off due to the K-T extinction event. Shrinking and mounting one of the awe-inspiring sauropods would have been the crowning achievement of the shrinkadermist’s art. His second regret is that he could not be here tonight with you.

Thank you, and without further preamble, here are the beautiful creations of Dr Cua’s art:





Yeah, just picture the big galumphing galoot in the masthead photo sharing a stage with such delicate, enchanting pieces- wow, I felt "ogreish", and had this dread that I'd somehow drop the display (I am not a clumsy person at all, but I always have this weird "Bull in a china shop" feeling around fragile objects).

Peter's sculptures took the "Most Intriguing" prize in the contest.

Gelt Trip

So, Hanukkah began on December 1, and I haven't mentioned it at all. I kinda feel a little guilty, and I'm not even Jewish, man. I forwarded a link to the Electric Eel Christmas Tree post by SMcG to a friend of mine, and she remarked, "Gotta get one of those for my electric menorah." This got me thinking... an electric eel has no visible scales, so it is most likely not kosher. Even if it is not for human consumption, can an observant Jew bring something as treif as an electric eel into the house on Hanukkah? Not having a theological bent, I will leave this question to the religious sages.

As an aside, if any of you know of a single frum girl who needs her potatoes grated, I will work for latkes. Special consideration will be given to young ladies with wide hips and narrow kitchens. So, happy Hanukkah to all readers, and please send latkes, gelt, and money.

Happy Belated Birthday, Sweetums

Yesterday was the birthday of my older brother, Sweetums. The origin of the Sweetums moniker dates back to the days when I had a glorious golden 'fro. My younger brother Vincenzo and one of my cousins (gotta dig up a pseudonym for him- I think he assumed the alias "Big Leo" in the course of the hilarious "Midnight Gardeners" prank) decided to skip a high school pep rally the day before Thanksgiving, which prompted my mother to say, "Well, your brother would never skip any school event!"

My sister's peanut gallery observation was, "Oh, yeah, he's so perfect, Sweetums would never do anything bad."

Not even a minute after my mother gave her little lecture, Sweetums showed up at the door, home for Thanksgiving break a day early. My mother asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were coming home tomorrow."

The response, "Oh, I was offered a ride home, so I bagged a couple of classes so I wouldn't have to take the bus."

Timing is everything.

Happy birthday Sweetums, give my love to the wife and kids.

My Opening Salvo in the War on Christmas?

A few years back, I probably would've been inclined to drop some spare change in the bucket of a Salvation Army bell-ringer out of knee-jerk generosity, but then I had an epiphany, a Road to Damascus Highway to Hell moment, if you will. The bell ringer was outside the supermarket, and I paused and thought, "Wait, the Salvation Army is a religious organization, and I know absolutely nothing about their tenets." I needed to find out more about the Sally Army. Well, sure enough, the tingling spider sense was correct. Yeah, the Salvation Army is a typical authoritarian Protestant Evangelical group with an anti-gay agenda... the "S" word was the initial tip-off for me. To compound the problem, the Salvation Army also has a clear-cut anti-drunkard bias... this hits home, because drunkards are my people! Yeah, no need to feel even the slightest twinge of Scroogitude as you pass by these bell-ringers for bigotry. Find another, more worthy charity to support. Of course, no blistering indictment of the S.A. would be complete without posting this classic singalong:





As an added bonus, here's an additional song which describes a similar group's (thankfully) failed attempt to abduct a proud worshipper of Dionysus into a lifetime of servitude to a sere, Calvinist divinity:





Gotta dig those Portugese subtitles. I was familiar with "Monkees" iteration of the song from my childhood, but this is the best version I could find on the t00bz, although the Saved finale subverts the original intent of the song.

Seduction in the Tea House and Other Tales of Urban Lust

Well, now that I have your attention... Last night, I attended a special birthday performance by Friend of the Bastard Saasha Foo. Well, I'll begin by saying that she should consider a name change to Saasha Feu, because the girl was on fire- she called her set Devil with a Heart of Gold, and I instantly thought, "This could be the basis for a hilariously warped musical comedy to submit to the Fringe Festival."

Miss Foo introduced herself with the eponymous ad-libbed tune, then launched into a hilarious evisceration of Burt Bacharach's Wives and Lovers, turning the dated "default sexism" of the song into a satire of the Beauty-Industrial Complex. Yeah, Brazilian waxing and bleaching "down there" were undreamed-of in Burt's heyday, but Saasha worked them into her brutal-yet-affectionate takedown of the song... hey, it's 3PM, hubby's due back by 7, so girl get cracking! She followed this with another genre-subverting take on a breakup-and-resultant-heartache song, Was I Just Another Blonde to You? Confronting her ex with a younger version of herself, she asks the inevitable questions, such as: "Was I just another sticky bun to break in two?" Put a "Y" on the End of "Man" was her take on polyamory, in which Saasha sings that she wants to schtupp just about every man she sees on the street. The show-stopper for me, though, was the hilarious Park Slope Gigolo, in which Miss Foo sings of the eponymous "working man" paying his way by servicing the stay-at-home mothers who congregate in the local Tea House. The surefire cure for post-partum depression, the Park Slope gigolo ("the sugar in your Bigelow") has his own baby sitter. Saasha followed this up by a mission statement- she wants to start pimping d00ds out to supplement her income (motherlovers take notice, Brooklyn fathers take heed). Saasha's show of love for country music took the form of a takedown of a coked-up former boss who looked on her ass as his "personal property"- a Foo-vian take on Take This Job and Shove It. Her finale was another satire of the pressures on women to conform to unrealistic standards of beauty (a duet with a friend)- The Tapeworm, Gay Porn Diet. Why suffer at the gym, or deprive yourself of calorie laden treats when you can enlist the services of a special little friend, a Platyhelminthine buddy which will allow you to sit on the couch all day long, eating cinnamon rolls slathered with an entire tub of margarine and watching gay porn? Trying to fit into that wedding dress? Just enlist the services of a tapeworm, just make sure it doesn't poke out during the ceremony. Wow, what a finale. Throughout the night, I had to restrain myself from drinking while Saasha was singing... I had visions of Hoegaarden shooting out of my nose. Yeah, she's that funny, and her brilliantly distorted version of the universe (the Foo-niverse, if you will) is a great place to visit for a couple of hours. Adam Klipple and Gary Wang provided an excellent musical background for Saasha's gleefully cracked songscapes.

While I can't find any "spit take" inducing videos of Saasha, here she is in her "serious" mode... I apologize for the darkness of the video image, but one can just make out Miss Foo's trademark "cat eye" vintage glasses and bangs:





After the performance, I told her that, within ten years, drag performers would be imitating her. She replied, "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Rock on, Saasha Foo, and get cracking on the musical!

Been at It a Year

Wow, it's the one year anniversary of my little blogging experiment. I'd like to thank Jesus, my family, and the Academy... wait, this ain't the Oscars. Besides Jesus, my family, and the Academy, I really want to thank all the fine people listed on the blogroll to the right, I love you all and want to have your babies. I also want to extend a special thanks to my good friend Frenchy, the guy who took the picture of that glabrous, scowling ruffian on the masthead- he had been on my case, telling me for years that I should be blogging... he also gets on my case telling me that I need to do sit-ups, proving that peer pressure need not be a pernicious influence. I also need to give special thanks to Tintin, Gavin, D. Aristophanes, HTML Mencken, and Brad of the Sadly, No! editorial board and the hilarious denizens of the comment threads (I think it was M.Bouffant or Spengler who likened the comments threads at S,N! to a writers' room for smart snarkmeisters- please correct me if I'm wrong). The blogroll is populated mainly by Sadlynaughts. I also have to confess that I feel I owe a debt of gratitude to AK and Smut who gave me the final push over the border into Blogistan- it's no coincidence that I started my blog shortly after the debut of Riddled... how could I possibly let those mad antipodean geniuses have all the fun? Thunder, ZRM, Von, Johnny Pez, Aunt Snow, Jack C, SMcG, Ned, AG, JNeoM, VS, M.B., A212, Jenn of Ark, Spengler, and any others I may have forgotten- thanks all. If you ever get to the NY metro area, first round's on me. Special thanks also to SSC goddesses Margaret and Dorian, who have done a lot to encourage my writing endeavors. Also, a special shout-out to the lurkers (I know that I have some family and friends who read this on a regular basis), and the drive-by posters (I had one anonymous comment on a "local interest" post, and for the life of me couldn't figure out who it could have been). The window must be open a crack, people, 'cos a little rain seems to have gotten into my eye.

So, how would I measure my blog-performance over the past year? Well, have you read anything by Jack Vance? Did you give a listen to "friends of the Bastard" Jim Keyes or Mary Courtney? Did you purchase any music by Hedningarna? Did you click on any links to summaries of the work of any of the lecturers who spoke at the monthly "Drinking and Learning" series? Did you laugh? If you answered "yes" to any of these questions, then I can feel pretty damn smug.

It's been a hell of a year, thanks for sharing it with me.