Imagine a movie in which superhumans move invisibly through an extra-dimensional membrane called the Gloom. A world in which — if you choose to break the laws of magic — you can, with a spell, cause a spontaneous abortion from miles away. Or change instantaneously into a tiger or bear. A world in which a…
No, I’m serious. Look at my butt. It’s bigger and rounder than it was a week ago. My pecs are like slopes, my arms like the hillside divots Torino skiers negotiate with sweat on their brows. My thighs? Don’t get me started. I jest, of course, but I’m back in the full swing of “working…
Precisely one year ago, I wrote a post called iMadness, in which I celebrated the marketing and design coup of Apple in the portable music arena. At the time, I was certain that I would never buy an iPod, a certainty that hasn’t mellowed a jot with age. I still think they’re overpriced, overrated, and…
While in Chicago a couple of weekends ago, Jeremy and I descended on Coq d’Or, the Drake’s well-appointed hotel lounge. Here was served the 2nd drink in Chicago after Prohibition righteously imploded. Their specialty is the Martini. Hotel elevators present tasteful advertisements for James Bond’s drink of choice; the bar itself offers several vodka delectations.
I could talk about Mirrormask, the recent fantasy film from Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, with requisite superlatives and florid qualifiers, but it’s simply not “great” enough to warrant that kind of hype. Instead, I just want to mention that it’s a fabulous visual feast with a pedestrian plot, which, if repaired, would have put…
If you stop and consider the one book you pick up more than any other, what is it? The bible? The torah? The dictionary? The Yellow Pages? Really, what is it? I can guarantee that it’s not a novel, no matter how many times you’ve read it. It’s not a poetry collection. I mean, come…
Today, I received my bi-weekly shipment of ultra-delicious organic vegetables from PlanetOrganics, which has changed the way I think about and consume veggies and fruits. Whenever these shipments arrive, I run to my cookbooks for ideas about what to do with so much food. Today, I grabbed Deborah Madison’s The Greens Cookbook and Jamie Oliver’s…
No one’s ever technically accused me of being a misanthrope. In fact, I’ve artificially inflated my reputations as such by regularly maligning the vapidity of man. What I am, actually, is a hater of stupid people, of unenlightened people, and they are, I’m sorry to admit, legion. Just sit on a plane bound for Las…
While in Chicago last weekend with my boyfriend, I was reminded yet again how much difficulty San Franciscans seem to have saying hello to each other in the streets. In Chicago, more strangers said hello to or smiled at me in a 3-day weekend than in the last six months here at home. What’s worse…
I lived in Chicago with my first lover from New Year’s Eve 1989 through October 1996. This time corresponded with my mid and late 20s. I say it all the time, but I’ll say it once more for posterity: Chicago was the city where I came of age. I developed as a gay grown-up. I…