"What the heck do those lazy, pot-smoking, kinky- (possibly gay-) sex-having 'progressives' who work at the Bay Guardian do all day?" is a REALLY good question. Allow us to take you behind the scenes, for one lightning-flash moment. A peek through the green curtain, as it were.
Today's blogtastic, syntagmatic Pixel Vision journey is brought to you by the letter S.
SUPER EGO Bad gay hair is back! From Chris Crocker's "Leave Britney Alone!" bilevel blond bob apocalypse to Perez Hilton's ever-changing lamebow of neon locks (bitch looks as though the Planet Unicorn creatures from YouTube exploded on her giant head), the homo hair horrors of the past are rising like silk-shirted, Daisy Duked zombies, tearing through a screen near you. Pull up a Rent-a-Center white vinyl sectional and dig into a plate of fried wig. These are the Famous Gays of Our Moment. This is our culture. Read more »
Given all the media hype and hand-wringing that’s attended the 50th anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, and the upcoming posthumous appearance of Allen Ginsberg in Todd Haynes’s Bob Dylan bio-fantasia I’m Not Here -- in which the goaty poet, played by David Cross, pays awkward tribute to a limo-driven Dylan (Cate Blanchett) from a speeding golf cart - you’d think the rainbow spectrum of Beats had finally been winnowed down to the twin poles of James Dean-ish sexpotism and portly Zen-molestation.
Sure, there’s Grandpappy William Burroughs in there somewhere, and Neal Cassady, popp Read more »
Fabulous intern Amber Peckham takes in the Jewish New Year tradition for the first time.
As a Wiccan, I often get mistaken for a Jew. The percentage of people who are unable to recognize the difference in shape (and the difference in doctrine) between a five pointed star and a six pointed one is a lot larger than any intelligent member of society would like to fathom. Therefore, the opportunity to live with my Jewish relatives in San Rafael when I came to the Bay Area from Indiana was one that both amused and excited me. Read more »