'GAY SOLDIERS DON'T CAUSE DISRUPTION' Are We Doing Something Wrong?

Fist half of the above headline is STRAIGHT from yesterday's New York Times.

First off, we don't cause anything; bigotry does, bitches. And that goes for headline writers at the stoopid Times. But if the gays were doing their job, which is making straight America REAL nervous, the troops would be scared.

I mean, what do WE owe an institution that has harrassed, beaten and killed us for more than a couple of centuries? Think this: gay warriors. Armed and dangerous. Be scared, be very scared. Give the troops nightmares to go with all their other ghosts.

Just like they had back in the day... black dudes with guns. Sure the troops were against it. They were scared shitless they'd be strangled in their beds. Just like gay boys and girls in the American military are now.

If you're gay and you aren't disrupting something, examine yourself. You may be straight.

MOSSAD GAIL A Star is Born

LATE ENTRY FOR OSCARS
Hurt this Locker, Hollywood! hats off to Gulf News TV and the Gov of Dubai for the most compelling film of 2010. Synopsis: Mossad wigs (and beards) out in a hotel shell game and smothering assassination of Hamas Honcho Mahmoud Al Mabhouh.

Why go sit through a three-hour cartoon in paper glasses? Screw directors and directresses. This is bot surveillance at its height.

"The Murder of Mahmoud Al Mabhouh"
The Oscar for Deathtime Achievement
Give it 27 minutes, it'll give you the world.


Click and drool.

DOGGIE STYLE Never Heel

Mr. B was re-taught a big lesson the hard way this morning: don't ever be too available. Chew on that.

PROUD WHORE USA Signs of Hope

America is so silver medal these days, no? Maybe it’s really more like dishonorable mention. Bush played Tanya to our Nancy Kerrigan. “Why, Why???!!!” Boo hoo.

But being No. 2 is not all doo-doo. Maybe we can backdoor the global luge.
We’re the world’s new Britain. It ain’t our meat it’s our motion.

Why we live in hope:

AMBASSADOR GAGA
even the Westboro Baptist gets it: She’s our “Proud Whore.”

GLOBAL GLEE
could watch the Glee Il Flash in Roma on youtube in continuous loop for a year

JOHNNY W
babyfaced sissy skates circles around the closet in school-play chic

RODARTE
fat girls make amazing mongrel fashion, are they doing it to the Skinnies on purpose?

DIY
do it yourself, do it to yourself, do it with yourself, LONG LIVE LARS & BIANCA!

BRUNGE
Marc Jacobs Au/Hi 2010/11 gives us forty shades of cardboard in Aunt Hortense silouhettes.

BROKE
Turns out everyone except tacky old China is more broke than we are. The Euro’s left the track and hit a pole. Time to fait de shopping?

TOTTERING DICTATRIXES
American Vogue’s Chief Britch may see her visa run out, if Milano’s Corriere della Sera is a bella weather: “Nobody, not even if her name is Anna Wintour can…undo our fashion calendar.” And Il Sole 24 Ore says the empress is starkers: “Wintour has been imposing her diktats on…Milan for years.”

Bienvenuto a Milano, Signora Wintour. Question: is there anything American about American Vogue anyway? Pasture her at the Costume Institute? Why? Not only is she OLD. But she’s not American. Off with her bob!

So all signs are go for The Great American Comeback. Don't miss out. Get your Proud Whore on, homies.

LAISSER LES BON TEMPS ROULER Bitches

Mr. B remembers when he was already hammered and running around the French Quarter in his tighty whities and flip flops by this time of day. On THE day.

Throw me something, mistah.
Show me something, sistah.

LOVE HANGOVER The VD After

McQueen is still dead.
'Fashion Week New York'for teenage tv stars is still going on.
The sun is still deceptively bright.
The streets of Hell's Kitchen are still frozen.
Good friends are still falling out.
But somewhere in the middle of this icecube island,
a match struck.
Someone met someone.
And together they jumped into the blaze without looking back.
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky and all that.
That. Ancient bitter bros and sissies,
is what happened last night,
without a single rose having to die.
Love goes on.
Love eats its own.

CRANMER’S HANDSHAKE And The Gay ‘Apology’ of His Grace Rowen

Archbishops of Canterbury have a knack for getting with the program of history just as history has moved on, as in the case of the quadruple-crosser Thomas Cranmer (Canterbury 1533-1556). On the stake, thoughtfully provided him by ‘Bloody Queen Mary,’ extending his ‘offending’ and doubtless shaking hand into the flame, Cranmer sought to martyr himself into history as a good Protestant, rather than the duplicitous careerist of any faith he had always been. It has to be said, as it so often must be where bishops are concerned, with friends like Cranmer, who the fuck needs enemies?

And so we come to the present ABC, appointed by exposed war criminal and finally ‘out’ Roman Catholic Tony Blair, Rowen ‘Sasquatch’ Williams and his recent “apology” to gay and lesbian Christians. For what? Rowen hasn’t exactly said, but among the possibilities would be his decade-plus of personal denunciations, witch hunts and nefarious back-channel and open global plots against queers in ‘his’ church and our world.

What’s the Latin for Too Little Too Late? Parum Quoque Tardus? The ABC is PQT, and as ever talking out of at least two sides of his whiskers, begging his gay-burning African co-religionists to make room in their hearts for difference while proposing a separate and unequal ghetto for The Episcopal Church, the American member of the Anglican Communion that has itself belatedly embraced LGBT inclusion.

This much: PM very-soon-to-be David Cameron will sack Rowen. Lilibet II will rubber stamp it with the tip her of Lucite cane and then, maybe Rowen can take his Hitler-youth friend Benedict XVI up on his offer of shelter from the storm of actual modern life. Then of course, the Tories will give England a proper ABC, banishing all hope of any woman or queer who enters there. And so, since only women and queers want to have anything to do with the Church of England, the candles may be gathered up and the wormy oak doors shut. The medieval churches can go back to being the barns they were before they were stolen from, among others, ignorant Welsh drovers, no doubt Rowen’s progenitors. All’s well that ends in the manger.

And if ever you should meet Rowen Williams on the path and he extends his hirsute palm, the recommended response is, “Keep it to yourself, bitch.” Then go right on walking your queer ass toward Jerusalem.