Humblety humblety hummmmm...

Fosco and Oz generally don't go for that whole "outdoors" thing. Nature may be pretty (sometimes), but it rarely offers the excitement of Gears of War 2 nor the comfort of the sofa. But recently, Oz has caught on to Fosco's appreciation of hummingbirds (because they're cute and chock full of personality). Fosco has a hummingbird feeder on his balcony, but he wanted to show Oz an even greater variety of humbird behavior. And so, a couple of weeks ago, Fosco and Oz took an afternoon to hike the hummingbird trail at the UCSC Arboretum.

Unfortunately, there weren't many humbies out at the Arboretum that day. However, we did meet this little guy:

Within minutes of our arrival, this humbo flew over us and landed on a branch only three feet away from us. And then he sat there posing for us for several minutes. We decided to call him "Hammy" because he was such a ham for our camera. Hi Hammy!

That's about it for wildlife on our visit. We did see some crazy yellow flower:

Even crazier, this flower gets weird when it goes to seed:

Look at all those bearded clams!

And then some nasty black bug bit Oz and so we left.

Boo!

It's Halloween. That holiday that seems like it should still be fun when you're an adult (but isn't).

Fosco was on campus this morning and it occurred to him that Halloween at UCSC is a lot like Mullet Appreciation Day at WalMart: there's a difference, but it's hard to notice. I would estimate that only 1 out of 3 students wearing a weird outfit today was actually in costume. After all, this is a campus where some guy dresses everyday as Spike.

Fosco plans to spend tonight in bed, loaded with NyQuil.

But, before Fosco hits the hay, he'd like to offer you some scary pictures of Isis (who is, after all, a black cat). The first two pictures are only scary because Fosco's camera phone is crappy and Isis is speedy.



The final scary Isis picture is one of my favorites--I love it when she stands on her hind legs and I love it when she looks in the mirror. But what does she see... inside?

Political Roundup: Just... One... More... Week...

The wait is painful. So painful. Apparently Fosco is suffering from what HuffPo calls "election anxiety." Seriously. Fosco has even found himself discussing his election anxieties with his therapist. That's right, Fosco is paying someone to listen to his fears about Sarah Palin. All of it makes Fosco want to hide in a cow-box. Can you help Fosco build a cow-box?

Fosco isn't the only one who is unbalanced by this election. As Larry David says in his election anxiety piece (find it here):

I just don't like what I've turned into -- and frankly I wasn't that crazy about me even before the turn.

Fosco can only hope that he hasn't become as annoying as Larry David (tellingly, Fosco's boyfriend Oz refuses to comment).

Here are some stories from the last week that Fosco is still obsessing about:

• Fosco never thought he'd agree with anything that comes out of the mouth of preppy asshole Fucker Tucker Carlson. So what is wrong when Fosco finds the first half of this article to be right on? Fucker Tucker:
  

  it would be nice if we stopped pretending that anyone can run the government. Anyone can't, as successive administrations have learned the hard way.

  Luckily, just when Fucker Tucker starts to sound absolutely reasonable, he throws in something more problematic:
  

  In foreign policy, at least, it could be time to drop the [idea that democracy is always a good thing]. Elitism may be annoying, but the mob is dangerous.

  Can I wait to decide on that until November 5?
  
  
• Here are some good questions about Sarah Palin:
  
  Why does she hate science so much?
  Why would a well-educated woman idealize her?
  Is she dangerous for the game of hockey?
  
  Oh, and Fosco would like to suggest that whoever coined the acronym VPILF should win the Pulitzer Prize.
  
  
• Who's getting screwed by Bushonomics? Sadly, hit hard is Fosco's childhood home of Michiana. Here's an NYT article about the hopelessness that has hit Elkhart, Indiana. The Times calls Elkhart "the white-hot center of the meltdown of the American economy." Fosco stills knows people in this town, but he didn't realize things were so bad. As the article notes:
  

  The jobless rate in Elkhart has increased more than in any metropolitan area in the country; it rose over 4.8 percentage points from August 2007 to August 2008. According to labor statistics released this summer, nearly 10,000 people were out of work, a rate of 9.3 percent.

  Even sadder, is the Times's characterization of
  

  garage sales — which for scores of people in this town are a sole source of income, and for others the only source of clothing

  The Times is apparently quite fascinated by the phenomenon of Indiana garage/yard sales, as they make another appearance this week in this article. (In this interests of full disclosure, Fosco will admit that in his lifetime he has participated in four garage sales with his family.)
  
  
  Things are so bad in Indiana, it seems, that for the first time in 44 years Indiana may vote for a Democrat for president. When Fosco heard that Indiana may turn blue, he teared up. He never thought he'd live to see it.
  
  
• Of course, there's still one problem: the Republicans are going to steal this election. You know, just like they did last time.

Isis loves the feel of crossed words.

Fosco and Oz have a cat named Isis. She's very odd.

Isis sez: "Three letter word for dinner is 'nom.'"

Boyfriend Oz's New Obsession

Fosco's boyfriend Oz has a new hobby: toys! And by toys, Fosco means adult toys. No, not that kind of adult toys. Rather, a kind of adult toy known as Mighty Muggs by Hasbro (they also make kids toys). Mighty Muggs (as you can see to the right) are chubby plastic things (made from 100% recycled awesome, and they come in both Star Wars and Marvel varieties (as well as Indiana Jones, but I mean really... who cares!).

Oz started collecting the Star Wars Muggs (admittedly, at Fosco's suggestion) and has now moved on to the Marvel characters. He now has 12 or so. So far, our rule is to only purchase the Muggs at retail establishments (like Target and Toys Russe) and not on Ebay (at collectable-prices). But at some point, Fosco may have to shell out some big bucks on the internet to get Oz's beloved Darth Vader.

Here's a pic of Oz trying to look tough alongside two of his recent acquisitions, Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress:


Now if Fosco could get Oz to actually take them out of their boxes...

Fosco Left his Heart in Iceland

Fosco has been to Iceland twice and he loves it. They have super moody music, gorgeous landscape (no trees!), and a surprisingly vibrant national literature.

And how can you not love a country that has 100% literacy? That organizes its phone book by first name? That ferments sharks underground and then eats them?

Iceland rawks.

Sadly, though, Iceland has had a wee bit of trouble recently. Thanks to the world-wide crisis in weird financial derivatives, Iceland's banking system has collapsed. As the NYTimes reports, almost two weeks ago,

the government took over the last of three major banks and shut down the stock exchange.

Trading in the Icelandic krona ceased, with foreign banks no longer willing to take the currency — even at what seemed like bargain rates.

This is bad stuff (and not just for Iceland).

Can you imagine what would happen in the US if our banking system collapsed? How would you and your neighbors react? (Here's Fosco's guess.) However, the Icelandic people are responding in ways that only make Fosco love them more.

The BBC has it covered. It turns out that Icelanders are handling it all with the poise and equanimity of a Barack Obama:

A few passers-by [in Iceland] commented that, actually, things were perhaps not that bad. They didn't have any money anyway, so they had nothing to lose.

And how about the angry rioting mobs? Well, not quite:

By midday a crowd of Icelanders had gathered in the square in front of parliament to show unity, they said - stressing that this was certainly not a protest.

And to some degree that was what it felt like - people coming together for moral support.

As Icelandic rock star Bubbi Morthens notes:

"They feel that this gathering, and friends and family and love, are important. This is not a time for anger."

Can you see now why Fosco finds Icelanders to be so refreshing? So, take a moment today to send some money to the Iceland rescue!

Mormon Education Is A FRAUD.

That's right, Fosco used the F-word. And he's going to use it again:

FRAUD.

As in, "Mormon Education is a FRAUD."

Oh, and by "Mormon Education," he means Mormo State University (aka, BYU).

You may remember the nifty little calendar called "Mormons Exposed," featuring some shirtless Mormon missionary beefcake. The calendar really wasn't to Fosco's taste, but as Fosco had a college roommate with a raging hard-on for Mormons, Fosco was pleased that such a calendar exists. Not so the Mormon Church, who promptly excommunicated the calendar maker, Chad Hardy.

But now (and here's where we get to the FRAUD part), it turns out that BYU has revoked Hardy's academic degree. According to the report,

A Sept. 30 letter from Norman B. Finlinson, the school's executive director of student academic and advisement services, said a nonacademic hold was placed on Hardy's record after the church-owned university learned of the excommunication.

"If in the future you are reinstated as a member of the church in good standing, you are invited to contact my office regarding your possible eligibility for the awarding of a degree," Finlinson wrote.

Now I recognize that this kind of thing probably happens all the time at places like Bob Jones University (aka, BJU... teehee! I think I've seen that movie) or Bethel College. But at a (supposedly) national-caliber research university that is only too pleased to brag about the religious diversity of its student body? Ridiculous! I'm not sure we should be calling BYU a university anymore. So, from now on, Fosco promises to refer to that place only as BY"U" (and yes, when he does so in conversation, he will use air quotes).

Why do Mormons want to ruin everything?

HSM Week: VanHudge Lives Better than You Do

Now that you've seen too much of High School Musical 3 star Vanessa Hudgens, you can imagine that semi-nude teen puttering around her very own house (recession be damned!).

It's in LA, it cost almost three million, and it sounds pretty shmoove:

There are six bedrooms and 6 1/2 bathrooms in 5,200 square feet. The property has a Pebble Tec pool and spa, waterfalls, cabana and a barbecue island. The kitchen has Thermador appliances and copper sinks. There is a wine cellar with glass doors and Mexican wrought iron.

Six bedrooms. Just think about how many scented candles and Christmas lights she'll use to decorate!

Isis tries to mail herself

Fosco and Oz have a cat named Isis. She's not quite right.


Isis sez: "Please send me to Pope, please. He like kitties."

HSM Week: VanHudge Revealed!

In honor of HSM Week here at Fosco Lives!, Fosco is pleased to remind you what High School Musical 3 star Vanessa Hudgens looks like with most of her clothes off.


And yes, it's real.

BTW, I think Clarence Thomas would really like her.

There are really only two ways to drink Coke...

You have to admire the rhetorical skills of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Clemons Thomas. After all, this is the man who asked that timeless question: "Who has put pubic hair on my Coke?" Truly, that was a question that defined a generation. (N.B.: the answer is her).

Now Justice Thomas has offered new guidance for our troubled times in a lecture helpfully entitled "How to Read the Constitution" (hint: it starts with "We"). You can find Justice Thomas's speech here (if you don't mind the Wall Street Journal cooties on your browser).

For me, the highlight of Justice Thomas's lecture is this remarkable sentence:

Let me put it this way; there are really only two ways to interpret the Constitution -- try to discern as best we can what the framers intended or make it up.

You may not have noticed, but this sentence is an amazing rhetorical construction.

To demonstrate the sleight-of-hand here and its power, allow me remove the specific content of the final two clauses (everything after the "--") and replace that content with general descriptions of each clause:

Let me put it this way; there are really only two ways to interpret the Constitution-- [my way] or [everything else].

Doesn't the choice become painfully clear? And note that this construction becomes even more coercive when [everything else] becomes equated with something as irresponsible-sounding as "make it up." Wow. We are clearly dealing with high-level legal reasoning here.

And it's fun! Behold the magic:

Let me put it this way; there are really only two ways to swim--backstroke or flail your arms and legs (rhythmically or not).

Let me put it this way; there are really only two sexual orientations--heterosexuality or fuck anything. (Wait, this one sounds familiar...)

Let me put it this way; there are really only two choices for dinner--lasagna or some combination of some subset of the rest of the matter in the universe.

But you get the idea... Kids--try your own at home!

Best Week Ever!

This week is gonna rawk!

That's because on Friday, ONLY IN THEATERS, it's time for High School Musical 3: Senior Year (caution: link involves spirited drumming).

Because Fosco is (not-so) secretly a tween girl, he is tingly with excitement over this film (all the way to the tips of his budding breasties!). In fact, as Fosco writes this post, he is listening to a (apparently pirated) copy of the HSM3 soundtrack. And like any tween girl, Fosco is listening to the ballads and singing the VanHudge parts to his boyfriend Oz (who, sulkily, refuses to sing the ZacFron parts).

I suppose by now, the eagle-eyed reader has noticed that the pic above is not actually the cast members of HSM, but strange, racially-matched lookalikes. Yep, apparently some theater troupe in Georgia did their own production. Half of Fosco wants to laugh; the other half wants to audition for Ryan.

Of course, the big question on Fosco's mind is this: what will senior year hold for Disney's modern Mouseketeers? Judging from the trailer, we can expect some surprising developments:

• Gabrielle and Troy can stop time like that chubby Japanese guy on "Heroes."
  
• Troy and his b-ball buddies appear to don Klan hoods.
  
• there seem to be visual references to Grease, Footloose, and maybe even L'Année dernière à Marienbad.
  
• it appears that Usher is not the DJ at their prom.

In honor of this film, Fosco has made this week HSM week here at Fosco Lives!. Stay tuned for more fun!

From the Annals of YouTube...

Fosco has been out-of-touch for so long with you, his beloved reader(s). Consequently, he is unsure if you will find this YouTube clip to be funny or just inexplicable. Sure, there is too much background sound. And sure, it goes on about a minute too long. And yes, not everyone finds pugs as compelling as does Fosco.

But still, Fosco believes there is just something funny about the confusion of OJ's unwanted houseguest Kato Kaelin with America's unwanted houseguest Sarah Palin.

McCain's Secret Black Family?

No, not that secret black family.

But this one.

Follow the above link to the (boo! hiss!) Wall Street Journal to read a fascinating history of the descendants of the slaves owned by John McCain's great-great-grandfather, a family lineage that also shares the name "McCain."

Whether or not the Black McCains are related to Walnuts is an open question:

The black McCains of today were raised to believe that they were blood relatives of the white McCains, dating back to slavery times. White McCains say they're unaware of any biological connection between the families. A spokesman for Sen. McCain declined to comment.

Seriously, though, this is not a shot at John McCain (although I reserve that right for the future). It's just a really interesting story about the ways in which African American history in this country is entwined with official "white" history. This is Skip Gates territory, my friends.

Up, Down, Up, Down, Chu Chu Chu.

Fosco loves it when The New Yorker buries something cool in its "Goings On About Town" calendar. From the October 13, 2008 issue:

Oliver Sieber's photograph "Ulala, Bad Neuheim, 2007"

For those of you who don't recognize the costume, that's "Ulala"--the protagonist of fun fun fun Sega Dreamcast game Space Channel 5.

If you've never seen Space Channel 5, do yourself a favor and watch the first sequence:



It was because of Ulala that Fosco spent two years in journalism school.

What's long, yellow, and sexy?

It's been slightly over two years since Count Fosco arrived here at Redwood U. Last week, he finally had his first encounter with the charismatic and reclusive university mascot. Here's a photo to prove it:


Note how the banana slug can simultaneously appear both wise and ferocious. Suck it, Sparty.

New Developments: Kitty Bunker

From the "New Developments in the Life of Fosco" File:

Fosco and his boyfriend Oz are parents of a frequently skittish and occasionally peevish (is there any other kind?) kitty named Isis. Isis fears two things above all others: the vacuum and (sigh) plastic bags. Strangely, the crinkly sound of a plastic bag is enough to send Isis cowering under the endtable or burrowing to the back of the closet.

Fosco's boyfriend Oz has been around cats all of his life and he finds Isis's fears to be neither strange nor worrisome.

Fosco, on the other hand,

• has never owned a pet and so feels a strong anxiety about the psychological well-being of Isis.
  
• is an insomniac who lies in bed for hours, trying to "think like kitty."
  
• is a typical graduate student who invents excuses not to do work.
  
• is allowed to use pointy scissors.

Ergo, Isis now has a snazzy new cardboard bunker in which to hide from plastic bags.

Isis sez: "You can't find me now, Evil Target Bag!"

Fosco's New Friend Pandapple!

(As seen with Fosco's boyfriend Oz, who bought Pandapple for Fosco!)

This Is Halloween

You may have noticed yesterday that Fosco wasn't quite in the Halloween spirit. Well, last night he realized why: he had forgotten to get out his Nightmare Before Christmas figurines!

In the background, we have Oogie Boogie's Boys and in front (and sadly out-of-scale), there is Jack Skellington driving a toy car.

Other Halloween news: if you hate the trend among women of dressing sexily and pretending that's a costume, then you should listen to this song by the delightful Jill Sobule (remember when she started the whole lesbian fad when she kissed a girl?). The name of Jill's new song is "Women Whose Halloween Costume Is Just That They're Slutty" and I'm glad someone (besides Fosco) noticed this.

In fact, just last week, Fosco's sister was telling him about one of her classmates. The classmate is a very intelligent and ambitious young woman who knows her literary theory cold (and who is not afraid to make this clear in class). She's a self-assured (maybe even arrogant) and well-educated young woman. And yet, she told my sister that she always dresses up for Halloween as one of two things: a Playboy bunny or Tinkerbell. Now Fosco would never deny that intelligent women cannot be sexy (or should not be sexy), but he is uncomfortable with these women choosing to dress as caricatures of sexual availability. Doesn't this seem like a problem?

Little Earthquakes

It's the morning after Fosco's first earthquake and he still has plenty of ways to use rock music lyrics to refer to last night's quake. Here are some random quake-related notes:

• The surprisingly tabloid-y San Jose Mercury News exists exactly for this kind of thing. Here's the front page for today:
  
  Hmmm. That's subtle. Oh, by the way, did anyone hear how big the earthquake was? Anyone?
  
  
• Yes, we all felt it. But how long did it last? Fosco Lives! hosted a good-natured debate. Official estimates this morning placed the duration at 30 seconds. [N.B., that thread marks the inaugural comment from Fosco's boyfriend Oz.]
  
  
• As you may have gathered from the smaller headlines on the Mercury News front page above, this was the strongest quake in the Bay Area since the devastating 1989 Loma Prieta quake. As you can see from the map below, that quake was epicentered near Santa Cruz:
  
  The Loma Prieta brings back some bad, bad memories for folks around Santa Cruz, as that disaster leveled one out of every three buildings on Pacific Ave (the downtown shopping district).
  
  Even so, you have to love the attitude of the Santa Cruz Trader Joe's manager last night (as per the Santa Cruz Sentinel):
  

  At Trader Joe’s on Front Street, manager Steve Keenan hopped on the intercom to announce that “Santa Cruz rocks!”

  I love Trader Joe's.
  
  
• You have to love the personal interviews from the San Francisco Chronicle:
  

  Guitarist A.J. Flores was at his San Jose home playing with his band when the quake hit. A lamp and guitar fell over amid the shaking.
  
  "Yeah, man, we thought we were really rocking out," Flores said, adding that the musicians quickly realized it was an earthquake and not their Metallica cover song that caused the ruckus.

  Classic. Personally, I once mistook an F5 tornado for a particularly rousing cover of "Enter Sandman." Too bad it killed my grandma.
  
  Or is this one my favorite?
  

  A clerk at Kwik and Convenient in Milpitas, who said his name is Suki Suki, said not much was damaged - except his psyche.

  You have to feel for Suki Suki. I think we're all praying for the health of his delicate psyche.
  
  
• Fosco's sister, Maggie Tulliver, is still making fun of Fosco this morning for being both pedantic and patronizing. It all happened last night when Maggie was expressing her concern over how close a 5.6 quake is to a 6.9 Loma Prieta-grade quake. Fosco offered a brief lesson on earthquake magnitude beginning with the phrase: "Remember that the Richter scale is a logarithmic scale..." Maggie did not "remember" this fact and thought the statement was a bit condescending. Sorry, Maggie--sometimes Fosco just can't NOT be an academic.

Earthquake Brings All the Boys to the Yard

Fosco just felt his first earthquake! A 5.6 one centered to the NNE of San Jose. See?

It was short, but it was a bit upsetting. Don't believe me? Just ask this commenter...

"And I, Fosco, the Pumpkin King!"

It's almost Halloween (although honestly, in Santa Cruz everyday is Halloween). What are Fosco's plans for the big night? Well, he did Pacific Ave. last year and was appropriately appalled. How to top that this year? Too bad the Castro is out...

And what to do for a costume? Fosco has no good idea. It's hard to be brilliantly creative at interpreting literature and understanding theory (like Fosco?) and to have energy left over to think of a great Halloween costume. Could I just staple a bunch of student papers to my clothes and go as "lack of argument"? Just a joke. Sorta.

Speaking of costumes, check out this student I saw today in lecture. He's the Witch-king of Angmar (N.B.: that's why I hate Wikipedia).

He told me that he made the helmet in metal shop. Doesn't it rock? And what a great idea to wear a scary costume to "Gothic Literature" class!

Compare to the real Witch-king:

Not a bad likeness, huh?

So when it comes down to it: Fosco has no plans and no costume. Why does Halloween feel like so much pressure this year? Is Fosco too lazy even to have fun?

Smells Like Teen Idiocy

Fosco doesn't know any teenagers. He does know a few tweens and can already foresee the day ahead those sweet little girls will stop licking the lead paint off their Bratz dolls to become brilliant young adults. And what's in store for these future teenagers?

From an article in the New York Times:

[Halpern] was surprised to uncover studies demonstrating that 31 percent of American teenagers had the honest expectation that they would one day be famous and that 80 percent thought of themselves as truly important. (The figure from the same study conducted in the 1950s was 12 percent.)

From an editorial in the San Francisco Chronicle:

But most of all, [an Oakland public school teacher] simply observes his students, year to year, noting all the obvious evidence of teens' decreasing abilities when confronted with even the most basic intellectual tasks, from understanding simple history to working through moderately complex ideas to even (in a couple of recent examples that particularly distressed him) being able to define the words "agriculture," or even "democracy." Not a single student could do it.

Really.

Obviously, Paris Hilton is the model here: someone important and famous with less than a fifth-grade education. But can we allow this continue? Are there enough ultra lounges in our country to handle all of these future VIPs? And what of our nation's supply of precious, precious cocaine? I foresee shortages. And what of our teen boys? How will they become famous with no vagina to flash to the paparazzi?

In other news, all teenagers (including the poor and disadvantaged) of (supposedly) Third-World Venezuela are provided with free orchestral instruments and musical training. Where would you rather live?

The Foscovian Update: Still Here, Still Queer.

It's been over a week since Fosco last blogged (did anyone win the betting pool?). But that doesn't mean that Fosco hasn't been thinking, Dear Reader. He's been thinking up a mess o' somethin'! And what thoughts have been rattling around in his gigantic gourdic cranium?

• Just like my third grade teacher always said, California seems to be the likely location of the coming apocalypse (although I think she meant it more eschatologically--and no, that doesn't mean what you think it means). And while all those insatiable wildfires were nowhere near Fosco's beloved Bay Area last week, the local media didn't lose an opportunity to remind us Northern(ish) CA residents that our doom is imminent, whether from a nearly overdue "tectonic time bomb" or our own giant flaming holocaust. The End is near! Whee! Even so, I'd rather die in a flaming crack in the earth than from getting lung cancer in a casino boat while losing my social security check in the slots.
  
  But seriously, if you want to read about the SoCal fire experience, check out my friend Ted's blog.
  
  
• Hey, did you hear that Dumbledore is gay? Fosco had known this for years, ever since he was fellated by the wizard in a Minneapolis airport mensroom. Even so, Fosco isn't quite sure what to feel about this whole story. To some extent, he'd rather let his friend Ted do the blog work for him (thanks again, Ted. At this rate, Fosco Lives! will eventually just be one big hyperlink to your blog). Fosco would like to raise two questions about the story that seem worth considering:
  
  1. Does a gay Dumbledore make up for Rowling's repulsively heteronormative epilogue to the seventh book ("Seventeen Years Later..."), in which everyone is happily married (heterosexually) with kids?
     
  2. What is the status of an extra-textual author's statement about a character? Could Dr. Seuss (from beyond the grave) tell us that the Lorax is gay? Would we have to believe that?
  These are the problems that a gay Dumbledore raises for me.
  
  
• Fosco was planning to spend most of this month in a blissful Jimmy Eat World coma. See, they're one of Fosco's favorite bands and the last three albums have been amazing. The previous release, Futures, obsessed me for several months. Plus, the first single ("Big Casino") from the new disc was the soundtrack to Fosco's September (because it rawks). But here's the thing: the new disc is TERRIBLE. With the exception of "Big Casino," there is no song on the disc that this Jimmy Eat World diehard fan ever wants to hear again. Fosco is sad.
  
  So what has filled the musical void in Fosco's month? Things have been a bit weird, to tell you the truth:
  
  • Radiohead's In Rainbows, which upon first listen sounded inaccessible and boring, but really gains by repetition. And I'm not just saying that because I paid £5 for it. Good tracks: "Reckoner," "All I Need," and "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi."
    
  • a short but excellent Bach chorale: "Heilig, heilig" (BWV 325). Bach is usually too boring for me, but I like the calm this month.
    
  • a trance track: Agnelli and Nelson's "Wear that Dress." Trance is great for driving and paper-writing. Really!
    
  • "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want," The Smiths. I could revive a different Smiths song every month and be happy. Well, actually, sad. I wear black because that's how I feel inside.
    
  • Bruce Springsteen, Magic. I've mentioned this one before.
    
  • an amazing work by my blogpal John Mackey called "Kingfishers Catch Fire." It is seriously one of the most amazing compositions I've heard this year. The CD comes from Japan, so it might be easier to hear it streaming on his website (under "Works" on the main page). The first movement is gorgeous, but the second movement knocks it out of the park. I've been listening to it a lot in my car.
  
  
  
• Has anyone else noticed that the New Yorker section "The Critics" has become the Harvard Faculty Lounge? I suspect that it's the influence of longtime New Yorker contributor (and Harvard English prof) Luke Menand. In addition to reviews by Menand, Fosco has recently run across reviews by Professor of History Jill Lepore, Laurence A. Tisch Professor of History Niall Ferguson, and the (oddly-titled) Professor of the Practice of Literary Criticism James Woods James Wood. Their ambition has lead them beyond traditional academic publishing and I, for one, welcome our new Harvard overlords.

You Can't Get There (At All)

The ultimate California Adventure (at least today) appears to be driving. Fosco found all of these stories in his evening read-through of Santa Cruz and San Francisco newspapers:




If you're planning to drive in CA this evening, well... just don't.

Still Feeling Weird...

Last Friday, Fosco found himself in a situation that he never would have imagined: watching gay bareback porn in the presence of one of the most famous and distinguished faculty at UCSC. It was part of an extraordinary talk by an absolutely brilliant guest professor.

Let me assure you that as fascinating and enjoyable as gay porn is, it is surprisingly unpleasant to watch the creation of a devil's dick from the semen of seventy-three men while in a room with 25 of your academic colleagues (including The Haraway). Eek. Just... eek.

Academia is such a hoot sometimes!

[N.B.: there is no accompanying picture to this post that would make any amount of sense.]

LOLNobels?

The always entertaining and intelligent Todd responds to Fosco's adoration of a color photocopy of Al Gore:

In related news, my mom tells me that one of her friends hates Al Gore (and refuses to believe in Global Climate Change) because (somehow) he once increased phone bill taxes by five dollars. Even if he actually did this (which is questionable--it just doesn't sound right), is that a good reason to deny climate change? Ah, the logic of the Midwest...

Large Picture of Al Gore Wins Medal!

Norwegian Peace Expert Ole Bollen shows off the centerfold to the newest issue of Tiger Beat.


Fosco has the same pinup and he kisses it every night before bed. Isn't Al dreamy?

The Week That Was

What's new, Pussycat? Whoa-a-whoa-a-whoa.

Lots of titbits over the past week. And what's the best way to deal with titbits? The unordered list!

Things worth considering:

• Canadian Thanksgiving. Fosco had another delicious Canadian Thanksgiving dinner with the amazing Michael and Laurel, just like last year. This year, there was a remarkable pumpkin cheesecake and Fosco's boyfriend Oz was able to join us for the holiday. Sadly, there are no clearly Canadian (giggle) traditions for Thanksgiving--not even curling! But maybe that's not a bad thing, considering that in Fosco's family, holiday traditions generally mean "arguing about religion" or "being diabetic."
  
  
• Can you deal with something funny? And disturbing? Very much of both? Then meet Old Greg:
  
  Trust me. This will haunt you all week. "I'm Old Greg."
  
  
• How hot is it to see pictures of sexy Prince Harry nipple-licking his bud? The answer is "very." You have to love frat boys, even their cross-cultural equivalent.
  
  
• I taught my first section of the quarter last Thursday, for a class called "The Gothic Imagination." It's very dark and it gives me a chance to pretend that I'm a goth kid. Fosco thought it might be funny to make Gothic section more gothic, ergo...
  Of course, unscented candles would have been more appropriate. This week, Fosco's going to wear eyeliner.
  
  
• The Michelin Guide released its NYC restaurant ratings this week. Fosco is pleased to note that he had a meal this year at one of only three three-star restaurants in New York: Jean-Georges. And it was extraordinary (someday Fosco will tell you all about it). Also thrilling: the fact that Fosco has also eaten at Michelin one-star wd-50 (which is still a pretty impressive rating).
  
  And how can you not appreciate the demotion (to 0 stars) of Tom Colicchio's Craft? Apparently he's spending a bit too much time making celebrities of barely-competent line cooks. (Fosco may lose his Foodie Cred for admitting this, but he LOATHES "Top Chef.")

"Make 'em come up"

Fosco is generally pessimistic about new television series--particularly ones that begin in the Fall on a major network (it's usually the sneaky mid-season cable shows that end up being surprising). But, thanks to a badly-title good review in today's NYTimes, Fosco watched "Pushing Daisies" tonight. The show has been over for six minutes now and Fosco is still breathless with excitement. The show is AMAZING. It's the best thing Fosco has seen on TV in years. The review suggests the show owes a debt to Amelie, and I guess that's true (especially in some of the camera work). But the more apparent debt is to the incomparable Tim Burton: a technicolor world full of eccentricity and the constant threat of menace. Yet, at the same time, it's gentle and sweet. Fosco almost cried at one point tonight.

You need to watch this show.

[N.B.: Fosco apologizes for the semi-gratuitous Ween reference in the title of this post.]

I saw the best minds of my generation...

...censored by the FCC?

There's a great article in SFGate today about the potential for an obscenity fine for airing Allen Ginsberg's poem "Howl" on the radio. As noted in the article, there is particular irony in this, because

fifty years ago today, a San Francisco Municipal Court judge ruled that Allen Ginsberg's Beat-era poem "Howl" was not obscene. Yet today, a New York public broadcasting station decided not to air the poem, fearing that the Federal Communications Commission will find it indecent and crush the network with crippling fines.

And they aren't kidding about crippling:

WBAI program director Bernard White fears that the FCC will fine the station $325,000 for every one of Ginsberg's dirty-word bombs.

And what dirty-word bombs! Some samples:

• "alcohol and cock and endless balls" (mmm, endless balls...)
  
• "who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy" (wait, is he talking about my college roommate?)
  
• "who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love" (oh god, who doesn't love sailors!)
  
• "who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may"
  
• "the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness" (must restrain self from making joke about "ultimate cunt.")
  
• "The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy!" (A-fuckin-men, brother.)
  

You get the point: the poem totally rawks. But there's another reason why this story is close to Fosco's heart. You see, Fosco once aired "Howl" on the public airwaves and got himself into a little trouble.

A number of years ago, Fosco programmed and hosted a twentieth-century classical music show on community radio station WTJU Charlottesville. One Wednesday evening (during drive-time, no less), Fosco aired a work by Lee Hyla which set a recording of Ginsberg reading "Howl" to music. Fosco didn't think about it until the Classical Director showed up at the station... Then, the next day, Fosco had to meet with the Station Manager in order to write up an incident report. By the end of the week, every member of the station had to undergo mandatory obscenity training. The Station Manager was nice enough not to tell everyone who had caused all of the fuss, so it was quite entertaining to listen to the classical and jazz staff speculate as to which rap/rock DJ had caused so much inconvenience for everyone. Luckily, no FCC complaint was ever filed and so there were no fines, etc. However, Fosco did feel simultaneously embarrassed and proud to be (probably) the first classical music DJ to run afoul of the FCC's obscenity policies.

Of course, Fosco still feels that "Howl," as art, should be exempt from all obscenity rules. Come on, people: grow up.

Sexual Harassment Tuesday

Fosco doesn't know anything about the whole Isiah Thomas sexual harassment case, except that Thomas has figured out a great way to sound really guilty while proclaiming his innocence:

I want to say it as loud as I possibly can: I am innocent; I am very innocent.

Again, I don't know the facts of the case (except I'm pretty sure Isiah Thomas is not founder of Wendy's); however, I have to question the legal status of "very innocent." To me, "very innocent" sounds a lot like "guilty."

Because it's (apparently) sexual harassment Tuesday, take a moment to read Anita Hill's rebuttal to the repulsive Clarence Thomas's charges in his recent 60 Minutes interview. Let's just say that Thomas isn't even "very innocent." Justice Thomas was a liar in 1991 and is a liar still. He's an embarrassment to the Court and to our country. Can we please never let something like this happen again?

Look for the Union Label (on your midterms).

Did you know that Fosco is a member of the United Automobile Workers? Indeed! All UC teaching assistants are members of UAW Local 2865.

And good news! Yesterday, the UAW and UC reached an agreement on a new contract for teaching assistants, eliminating the need for a (very intellectual and extremely weird) strike by graduate students. Even better: the new contract includes the pleasant surprise of a 5% pay raise! That's one more nice dinner a month for Fosco and his boyfriend Oz. Or, more likely, four more books a month for Fosco.

On the other hand, Fosco is a little disappointed not to strike. He had already spent so much effort creating a sign concept:
See, it says "Fuck UC"! Isn't that cool? I've already had it silk-screened on 300 t-shirts.

And I had been working on some protest songs, including a version of Tesla's "Signs" that substitutes the name of UC President Dynes for the word "signs." It goes something like "Dynes, Dynes, President Dynes..." Well, that's as far as I got. But it was going to be killer.

Or do they accept sexual favors?

Fosco just purchased his copy of Radiohead's forthcoming album "In Rainbows." If you haven't heard, that's the album where you choose how much you want to pay. Yes! You order directly from Radiohead's website and, on the release date, you download the album--all for whatever price you choose.

Fosco decided to be classy and paid £5. Fosco thought this was about $8, but it turns out to be more like $10. Oh well.

Did I pay too much? Well, I have a plurality of company. More details on October 10.

New Philip Roth Novel Not Laugh-A-Minute Romp

Today's NY Times proves that there is nothing easier than writing a brief thematic description of a recent Philip Roth novel. Here's the teaser for their review:

Aging, mortality, loneliness, and loss. Wait--wasn't that his last novel? Or the one before that? Or one of the other ones?

Heck, I bet the Times didn't even have to read the novel to figure that one out.

Next week: "Richard Ford's new novel is a plain-spoken exploration of the disappointments of middle class American men." Oooh, can't wait to read that one. Hey, readers, write your own pre-reviews!

[N.B.: Fosco believes that Philip Roth is, without question, the greatest living American author.]