Dirty, Dirty Daleks

So THAT'S why they had the suction cups... (Not safe for work)

...of all the things at Pitchfork...

I think I'm most interested to find out what a "Fuck Button" is.

(That and to figure out why I've been saying Gang of Four is playing tonight when evidently it's Mission of Burma...)

Moratorium

I no longer care to hear about anything involving Angelina Jolie's vagina.

No entries.

No exits.

Thank you.

Naughty is...

... listening to Lords of Acid's "Lust" at your desk at work...

"Darling, come here..."

This song makes me feel happy. This movie made me feel a little dirty --- and a little sad, too.

I came across this clip on Youtube a couple weeks ago and it inspired me to put "Shortbus" on my Netflix queue for a re-watch.

This was that "I can't believe they showed it in Hamilton County movie" with all the real sex acts. They aimed for a notoriety and lived up to the reputation. Every sort of polymorphous perversity, god love it, is thrown up there on the screen. They get enough out and up on the screen in the beginning to give you a good shock so you can then settle into it.

Anyhow, the first time I watched "Shortbus" I wound up touched by it -and no, I don't mean in a fondle-y way. There are parts that are glaringly, self-consciously... amateur. The characters are people with some fairly self-absorbed problems, and then you get to see fluids.

But, in the end, the story is about connection to others. For all the awkward parts, there are others that make you catch your breath.

I was going to snark and be all "They're trying to talk about isolation through explicit contact and it's all well-intentioned art" but in the rewatching something hit me.

It starts with the "oh look, nudity and penetration, isn't that smart?" It moves to "oh lord, could they be more actor-y and contrived?" There's also a big scoop of "Gee, I wanna go to that party."

But, by the end, you're rather engaged. You wind up happy one character learns to let love in, both literally and metaphorically, and you're rooting for another to find her damn orgasm already. That said, what I realized is that the more you relate to it, the more you see parts of yourself in it. You have to say you can find it difficult to connect with others, or let them in - metaphorically or otherwise.

You can see that it's a piece that uses the explicitness of the physical connections as the bait-and-switch to get you thinking about the emotional ones. They show you the orgy to say you can be alone, unconnected (unknown), and lost in a city of millions all packed in together like sardines. It's universal, and a "False Epiphany," but you can get suckered in and say "hey, that's me."

That's a hard thing to fess up to. It surprised me to let that one sink in for a little bit. I'm choosing to think that if you click with "Shortbus," maybe it means that, sure, you're a little lonely; and you still have hope.

I think it's message is just really about how hard it is to connect with other people and that's why I so enjoy this final song in the film. It struck me as one of the best uses I have ever seen of a movie using a song to really sum up what the "feeling" of it is -- and "Shortbus" is a film with brilliant music choices. It's one of the few where the moment I saw it I filed away in my mental to-do list "Get Soundtrack. ASAP"

The moment is quiet- everyone is in one way or another spent - and the city finally has the blackout that threatens to break on occasion throughout the whole film. So it's dark, there's no distractions of civilization, and the song so calm it's practically be a funeral dirge... and then they turn it into a Souza march and a happy ending... literally and metaphorically.

If you've never seen the movie, watch it. You may be offended, but you probably won't be sorry... if you relate to it.

My Friday, or "In no way safe for work, really"

You know, it's been ages since I've been out to a real nightclub. I say that not wanting to undersell the fun of going to Below Zero with Blake and Drew, but that's more an afterthought to our evening, the times we've gone.

I was thinking about this tonight while I stayed in to do exciting Friday night activities like vacuum, mop, and mow. Just generally getting the house ready for it's showing tomorrow. Not only did I stay in, but I also had to pass on an invite from Trevor to jaunt up to Cowtown for Comfest after my dental appointment today.

I am so goin' out soon for honest to goodness disco... or whatever the kids are calling it these days.

Admittedly, I never got this dolled up:



(Like how I just slip a good 'n' filthy message in there with my nightlife observation. Yeah, I'm good like that.)

I did squeeze in time to have a lovely celly-chat with Brad - the second one this week, we're turning into two gabby hens. I'm totally going to head out to Phoenix for Labor Day weekend if I can get the flights booked. (I realize it'll be incredibly hot, but what the hey, maybe I'll melt a few pounds off?)

Still to do this weekend: posts to catch up on, diet to commit to, and -HORROR OF HORRORS- clothes shopping. Trying to squeeze myself into a new pair of pants the same size as the ones I've stretched the waists out on should make for a fun post or two.

I'm clean as a whistle, baby

OurManInChicago and EJShea.com are off to the Liz Phair 15th anniversary of "Exile in Guyville" concert in Chicago evidently.

I am jealous. I remember hearing this CD... very end of high school. It was dark, and the sound had a lot of... space in it. This was really private, "attic" music. I know I've listened to it 1,000 times. I almost always listen to it straight through, from the bad Memorex tape copy I made in 1993 (I probably played "Flower" a lot) to the CD I bought to replace it in college.

I got her later albums. While "Whitechocolatespaceegg" is my runner up for second favorite, Liz Phair gets a lot of guff for "Selling Out." This older music is just as clean and hooky as the later stuff, it's just that the newer stuff is... shinier, brighter. You age 15 years, you have a kid, marry and divorce - you change. Lay off Liz. Different albums, different phases.

I just hope they get me a concert T-shirt.

More bumpin' bugs

I am becomming obsessed with this, you know. An interview with Isabella Rossellini about the mind-boggling (or -blowing) Green Porno can be found here.

I smell an Emmy

Isabella Rossellini and the Sundance Channel have hooked up for the creepy-cum-educational series, Green Porno .

In a series of short films, she plays a series of insects to -and I'm only guessing here- help teach people how the animal kingdom reproduces in some scary ways. It's more Nickelodeon than Wild Kingdom, filled with bright colors and playful imagery... it almost feels like a cute, educational bit from "Sesame Street" except for the subject matter and the truly odd narration Ms. Rossellini provides. Her unique accent and willingness to dress up as a snail and talk about her anus being on top of her head (and poo on her face then mutter "unfortunately")... her breathy comparison of snail sex to sadomasochism... truly disturbs me. Truly.

I don't know which line is better:

"If I were a firefly, I would light up my ass at night"

or

"She will twist her body to get to my genital pouch but first I will clean her vagina so she will only have my babies"

You MUST check this out.

Go.

Now!

or, at least check out the trailer: