Dressing One's Boyfriend: John Galliano

I would love to dress Oz in these John Galliano briefs. Not sure I would go for the bonnet, though.

Not that any of you would get to see...

(Via Fabulon.)

The Holy Orgasm

Fosco's art education is a bit sketchy, especially when it comes to Italian sculpture. Even so, how did it take him this many years to encounter the absolutely ravishing face of Bernini's Saint Teresa? Here are a couple of views:


That is just amazingly beautiful.

Of course, Fosco wasn't completely ignorant of the existence of the statue. Seeing the face reminded Fosco that he had read about it once before in the Seminar of Jacques Lacan. As Lacan notes, in his discussion of feminine jouissance:

[I]t's like for Saint Teresa - you need but go to Rome and see the statue by Bernini to immediately understand that she's coming. There's no doubt about it. What is she getting off on? It is clear that the essential testimony of the mystics consists in saying that they experience it, but know nothing of it.

Fosco always thought Lacan was just being silly here; but look at her face! She is indisputably having an orgasm! Don't believe me? Take a look at some of these (mildly NSFW).

True Love Doesn't Wait (Duh!)

What everyone except your idiot pastor already knew:

Think back to your teen years... raise your hand if you've had sex with someone who wanted to stay a virgin until marriage (N.B., there is no such thing as an "anal sex loophole"). Yes, I thought so.

Of course, this would just be good for another belly laugh at the expense of misguided and pointless campaigns like True Love Waits (which is a stupid idea but a great Radiohead song); that is, if it didn't appear that these ineffective virginity pledges are actually associated with decreased use of sexual protection and birth control. As the article notes:

Teenagers who pledge to remain virgins until marriage are just as likely to have premarital sex as those who do not promise abstinence and are significantly less likely to use condoms and other forms of birth control when they do, according to a study released today.

For those of you who need me to spell it out, this means increased risk of sexually transmitted disease as well as teen pregnancy (both things that we probably would like to avoid on a societal level).

So by all means, America: keep up this whole virginity-pledge thing in lieu of real, effective sex education. Heck, it worked out well for Bristol Palin--her pregnancy has allowed her to lock down high-school dropout and sex on skates, Levi Johnston. She's one lucky woman.

Dancing with Myself (Oh oh oh oh.)

Has all this protest talk been killing your buzz? Mine too. Let's talk about something fun and frivolous.

On Friday, Fosco finally made his entry into Santa Cruz nightlife--accompanied by his sexypals Julie, Liz, Aliya, and Maria. This is actually Fosco's preferred modus operandi for being "out on the town," i.e., surrounded by attractive and fasionably-dressed women. He generally believes that some of their sparkle rubs off on him...

We began the evening at the "Red Room"--the fabled Santa Cruz superlounge. And, although Fosco had heard tons of positive things about the Red Room, he still found it to exceed expectations. The Red Room is actually Santa Cruz's answer to a superclub, in a sense: a smoky and casual downstairs bar and a sophisticated lounge and restaurant upstairs. The pic at the right is the downstairs bar, as I haven't been able to find any online shots of the upstairs lounge to steal appropriate.

The lounge is extremely cool. It's dark and red and decadent with red velvet and divans and a fireplace--the atmosphere is tops. The music is excellent: not too young, not too old (what a radio station might call "the best mix of the 80s, 90s, and today"). How happy was Fosco to hear a Billy Idol double play: "Dancing with Myself" and "White Wedding"? Yessssss....

The drinks are fine and not too expensive ($5.25 Tanqueray and Tonics--not too steep). The service is to be expected in such a popular place, i.e., slow. However, our waitress was certainly friendly and, interestingly, a student of cosmetology--she will probably be coloring Liz's hair in the not-too-distant future. In addition, one of Fosco's students works there are some sort of floor manager, however, this did not translate into free drinks for Fosco (at least I don't think it did... I sort of lost count at one point...)

The most exciting thing about our conversation at the Red Room? It turns out that Liz is, like Fosco, a huge Madonna fan (well, we liked her in her pre-Malawian-baby-kidnapping phase). We even both purchased and later sold/lost Madonna's Sex book! And then "Justify My Love" came on and all hell broke loose...

After leaving the Red Room, we headed to Santa Cruz's only gay danceclub, Dakota. Dakota has a really cool space with a nice long comfortable bar in front and a relatively small dancefloor in back. The coat check drag queen/tranny is fierce. Unfortunately, the Dakota experience could have been better. For one thing, there were hardly any gay men there. When we arrived (around 11:30), it was mostly lesbians. As the night wore on, the crowd started to become mostly straight couples and then finally, around 1, the place emptied out entirely. This was odd, but I suspect it was just that the heterosexual people wanted to get back to their dorm rooms to have heterosexual sexual relations. I've been told that Saturday nights have more bois, so that's the plan next time.

In terms of music... well, Fosco has been out of the club scene for a long time, so he doesn't really know what's popular these days, but... the music was pretty bad. Sure there were high points (e.g., "Shakira, Shakira"), but there were also songs that cleared the dancefloor completely. I'm going to suggest that the Friday night DJ is not the most talented spinner in town. Oh yeah, and he played "SexyBack" twice (the second time by "request"). Is it me or did that song die after about twenty minutes? Of course, during those twenty minutes, Fosco was all over it.

Ah, the nightlife... Fosco is glad to be back.

It's Sunday...

...shouldn't you be at Church?

"My truth is that I am a gay American."

Ah, those famous words. Words that will be someday be etched onto the walls of the James McGreevey Monument in Trenton. Or, at the very least, scribbled on the wall of a bathroom stall at Rest Stop 59 (maybe with a phone number?).

Former New Jersey Governor James McGreevey's book is out today. It's titled The Confession and, judging for the excerpts printed in the Sunday Times, it is indeed chock full of confessing.

Here's a naughty bit:

I visited bookstores in New York and New Jersey and had sex in the small booths there until I became too famous to risk discovery. I lurked around parkway rest stops, exchanging false names and intimacies with strangers.

And here's another:

Moonlight squinted through the stained-glass windows into our garden, catching an inviting eye or a face stretched in ecstasy. I looked forward to my visits there, sometimes two or three a week. I quickly learned whom to approach and whose advance to wait for, when to move quickly, which posture said “no thanks” and which said “please.”

Oh yeah... now who's bringing sexy back?

[By the way, did anyone actually edit this book? "Moonlight squinted?" Ugh.]

And about all that corruption (you know, that non-gay reason he had to resign)? Well, that's mostly his staff's fault:

I tried to stay as naïve about this horse trading as possible. But I allowed my staff to intimate things to donors.

Intimate things? Like what, Jim? That you could get them Streisand tickets?

Strangest of all, it seems that the book doesn't even acknowledge that McGreevey picked up and killed all those teen vagrants. [Hint: follow the link, read the story, laugh at the joke.]

Seriously, though, isn't it amazing that the Oates story appeared only one month after McGreevey resigned? That woman works fast.

The Constitution is bringing sexy back.

It is a sad commentary on our times that Congress can pass a law requiring Constitution education for college students and I would want to make fun of it. What could be wrong with compelling universities to teach the Constitution on this day? I don't know yet, but I suspect the execrable David Horowitz is involved somehow. And as for making fun of Constitution education, according to yesterday's Times Magazine, it's the Way We Live Now.

Of course, I would never deny that there is widespread ignorance about (and apathy toward) the basic principles of the Constitution. Or, as UCSC Acting Chancellor George Blumenthal so laconically writes:

More students have greater knowledge of pop culture versus the United States Constitution.

I'm no expert on the students of today (because, goodness knows, I certainly don't understand this whole shaved pubes thing), but I have to wonder if students don't pay attention to the Constitution because it's a bit... well... dry.

And so, what if we were to "punch it up a bit"? We could do a bit of amending to make it a much more interesting document. After all, if we're going to amend it every time homosexuals get a little too uppity, then why not spice it up in other ways? Just a suggestion.

As Fosco is dedicated to the education of the today's youth, he would like to offer four things you may or may not know about the US Constitution:

• Sections of the Constitution (also called "Articles") are allowed to have "groupies" and sometimes these groupies blog.
  
• The 12th Amendment is the source of most of the lyrics to the recent hit song "Sexyback."
  
• Although the Constitution provides for "checks and balances" on the power of each of the three branches of government, one of them is actually intended to be a lot cooler than the others (hint: they wear black muumuus).
  
• The opening word of the Constitution are often confused with other important texts in American history. Let's clear up this confusion now:
  
  • The first words of the Contitution are "We the people..."
    
  • The first words of the Declaration of Independence are "When, in the course of human events..."
    
  • The first words of the Gettysburg Address are "Fourscore and seven years ago..."
    
  • The first words of Lolita are "Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins."
  
  Don't miss this on the exam.
  

Happy Constitution Day everyone!