Trust the San Fransisco Chronicle when they say this is one of the best films produced. Heart-wrenching, honest, very relate-able in spite of the 90's wardrobe and Alan Cumming's unsettlingly spiky hair. I FELL IN LOVE with Dan Futterman in the lead! He's the perfect blend of broken and badass. It's a wonderful love story between two gorgeous men, so see it! and be prepared to cry.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Urbania: Saddest Movie Ever
Trust the San Fransisco Chronicle when they say this is one of the best films produced. Heart-wrenching, honest, very relate-able in spite of the 90's wardrobe and Alan Cumming's unsettlingly spiky hair. I FELL IN LOVE with Dan Futterman in the lead! He's the perfect blend of broken and badass. It's a wonderful love story between two gorgeous men, so see it! and be prepared to cry.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Art Bitch: "Beast Anthology"




Kris Kuksi created these amazingly intricate macabre scultures out of mechanical parts and old toys, waist-relics of consumer culture. I love St. (Gangster) Anthony holding the baseball bat with nails. I get lost in the detail. Each piece belongs in a shrine to the gods of the military industrial complex.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Creepy Things "Our" Government Can Do
It is now possible for the CIA to use radio controlled electrodes to “overtake [a] beetle’s freewill about where it wants to go,” and use the living beetle as a spy toy. Another unbelievable reason why Americans don't enjoy the right to privacy? FOX News is on it.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Crimes Against Nature

"Dreaming a Few Minutes in a Different Element"
Minnie Bruce Pratt
The faint streak of little fish, the dim bottom
rocks heavy with quartz. Our fingers grope,
sift sand, brittle mussel shells. We can drift
close to the place where air, land, water meet,
edge of the creek, and see on the damp margin
a squiggled trail, infinite small snail tracks,
no beginning or end, wringled, undeciphered,
a message left for us, mysterious words seen
through the huge eye of the creek.
The faint streak of little fish, the dim bottom
rocks heavy with quartz. Our fingers grope,
sift sand, brittle mussel shells. We can drift
close to the place where air, land, water meet,
edge of the creek, and see on the damp margin
a squiggled trail, infinite small snail tracks,
no beginning or end, wringled, undeciphered,
a message left for us, mysterious words seen
through the huge eye of the creek.
I love this poem. Pratt gives us a beautiful image of resistance. Though not outright optimistic, for me it's still encouraging. Knowing the struggles Pratt faced in her personal life for being openly queer (separated from her children by a discriminatory legal system, pushed to the margins of society), it's no wonder she paints a "dim" picture of the world she experiences. However, marginalized she's still a part of the natural world and though she sees struggle all around her, in the end she can step back and find hope in a bigger picture and arguably a divine plan.
It blows my mind that the natural world blossoms and flourish from diversity, yet humans compulsively stamp out difference like a weed.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
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