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.]

The End of Summer: Picturebox Edition

Tomorrow is the first day of classes at the U (stupid quarter system, grrr...). So, for Fosco, today is the last day of summer (never mind that he's been reading phenomenology for an upcoming seminar for two days now). Ahhh, and what a summer it's been. It began, like all summers do, with good intentions, high expectations, and a large stack of must-read books. It ends, like all summers do, with regrets, recriminations, and dread. And so it goes...

What did Fosco actually do this summer?

Well, for one thing, he watched way too much television. A few of the shows were good, like House. One has to love Hugh Laurie, even if one hates most of the rest of the cast (especially the girl doctor and her Australian boyfriend). And despite the fact that every episode seems to end with a musical interlude in which all of the characters look pensive as they process the lessons they've learned, there are always a few laugh-out-loud lines. (N.B.: last night's season premiere was really well-written, even working in a knowing wink to lupus-loving fans of the show.) Also generally good: Monk (loved the Snoop Dogg guest appearance this summer), Psych (wacky and occasionally charming), and My Life on the D-List (Suck it, Jesus).

Some shows were occasionally worthwhile (but probably not worth watching during the school year): The Closer (intermittently funny, but why is Kyra Sedgwick's character so whiny?) and Bones (partially satisfies my post-Angel yearning for the smart-ass David Boreanaz, but why is the forensic anthropologist so annoying?).

Shows that I'm ashamed to have watched too much of this summer (please don't judge me): 30 Rock, Frasier and, worst of all, Everybody Loves Raymond. I'm not proud of any of this.

Show that I loved for two months and now loathe: Gilmore Girls. It's so weird, but after I watched almost all the episodes in a flurry this summer, I now can't stand this show. I even cried at the finale! But now I would rather go to the dentist than see an episode. Boy, is my TiVo confused...

And finally, you may be asking yourself: how did Fosco miss seeing the unanimous critical winner of the summer, Mad Men? I don't know. It looked a lot like Far From Heaven and I'd already seen that. I guess that's not much of an excuse.

I'm not sure what this is...

...but I love it.

Thanks, Todd, for this bizarre LOLtheorist pic (or whatever it is...):

Good luck falling asleep tonight, folks.

Bizarre Quote of the Week

The more I think about this quote, the less sense it makes to me. From the profile of director Michael Haneke in Sunday's (9/23) NYTimes Magazine:

The experience of watching "Funny Games" is not unlike watching snuff-porn clips late at night in your bedroom, only to have your mother or Jacques Lacan switch the light on periodically without the slightest warning.

What the hell is this sentence supposed to mean? First of all, how many readers of this sentence know what it's like to watch "snuff porn"? Is this sentence intended to be read by a Bret Easton Ellis character? Second, what does my mom have in common with Jacques Lacan? Would I really react the same if Lacan came into my bedroom as I would if my mom did? Huh?

And, now that we've parsed this sentence, do you have any idea about what feeling is being described here? I sure don't.

Plus: the "not unlike" construction is so obnoxious. You know what "not unlike" is? It's "like."

LOLtheorists: More, More, More!

I don't care about the threats of Mere (bring it on, Mere!): LOLtheorists will continue for the foreseeable future!

Todd has created some doozies this week. Here are three more from his fertile mind...

Here's Bertrand Russell:

I once had a boyfriend who told me that he'd never heard a convincing refutation of Ayn Rand's philosophy. Guess how long that relationship lasted (not long). So how much fun is this Ayn Rand picture?

And I've saved the best for last... I give you: Noam Chomsky.

It's filthy. It's funny. I LOVE it.

Two Truths and a Lie: So Much Wrong

Two horrible truths about capitalism, plus a lie from Monday's craziest man.

• According to today's Santa Cruz Sentinel, the SC housing market is going soft. The median home price is slipping a little. But wait, working people, don't get too excited. Home ownership is not yet in your future. That's because the median home price in Santa Cruz County is... wait for it... $770,000. Am I the only one who finds this repugnant?
  
  
• My favorite article in the news today: a profile of George H.W. Bush's pool boy at SFGate.com. His name is James Razsa, he gets paid $9 an hour, and he hates the people he works for. I think I love him.
  

  "If every American had to pool-boy for these people for a day, you'd have a revolution on your hands."

  That basically sums up lesson #1 of what Fosco wants to teach his students every quarter.
  
  My favorite James Razsa quote: "I look at the biggest middle finger in the world all day." This guy should have a commentary segment on YouTube.
  
  
• I don't know if you heard... but the President of Iran or someone gave some sort of speech in NYC today. Mahmoud "Bruce" Ahmadinejad is insane, anti-Semitic, and misogynist. I bet he would really hate homosexuals. Luckily, he doesn't have to deal with any:
  

  "In Iran, we don’t have homosexuals like in your country. We don’t have that in our country.”
  
  The audience booed and hissed loudly. Some laughed, uncomfortably.
  
  “In Iran, we do not have this phenomenon,” Mr. Ahmadinejad continued, undeterred. “I do not know who has told you that we have it."

  No gays in Iran? How is that possible? Oh, I see now.

Theater Review Roundup

From today's San Jose Mercury News:

I can already see tomorrow's film review headline:
"The Sorrow and the Pity: Collaborators evil yet stylish."

It's like LOLtheorists, but with boobies.

Recent Discovery: You can give the LOL treatment to anything, even dirtee pitchurz (NSFW, from Fleshbot).

America's Most Panoptic Cities

Fosco mostly ignored that whole controversy over Google's Street View feature. But, you know what? Even though it's a little creepy, Street View is fun! San Francisco is almost totally covered by the feature, which allows you to enjoy sights like three homosexuals conversing outside of hip Castro pet supplies emporium Best in Show. In five years, we won't remember how we lived without it.

There are other, better Street View discoveries, which you can find here.

If you prefer your all-seeing eye to be in real-time (and backed up by the power of THE LAW), then Chicago is your city. There are live crime cams in Chicago, and the po-po are watching. Feel safe? But be warned, because public alcohol consumption is a serious offense in Chi-Town. From the SF Chronicle:

Earl Gardner lounged on the street near his home just west of downtown Chicago, a 24-ounce can of Crazy Stallion beer in his hand.

A mile away, police Officer Al Garbauski slid a computer mouse to maneuver a camera that was perched a block from Gardner. Zooming in tight, Garbauski saw malt liquor meet mouth and sent an officer to arrest Gardner for drinking in public.

And the best part? The existence of a malt liquor called Crazy Stallion. The second best part? the Crazy Stallion Bottle looks like Arizona Ice Tea. The bad part? The police are watching us.

Welcome to the urban panopticon.

If you hate LOLtheorists...

...this is not your lucky weekend.

Here's a new submission from Todd. I was wondering when someone would get to Freud.

As Todd notes: "wow, this is way more fun than it should be." I could not agree more.

Here's another one from Fosco, who is a big fan of Roland Barthes.

Giggle. He totally should have been a French film star.

LOLtheorists: Refuses To Die!

Damn, this is fun! Fosco spent all last quarter with Marx, so how could he resist making this one?

I'm sorry kids--I just can't help myself.

LOLtheorists: Todd Strikes Again

LOLtheorists continues to spark creativity in some of you (hint: if you haven't tried one, see what you can do). Todd is rocking the Casbah. I'm glad we've finally gotten to Foucault, and this is a good one:

And at the risk of bending the rules of LOLtheorists, I can't help but add this additional Todd effort (especially since Kathy Griffin is a friend of this blog).

As far as I'm concerned, there is never a bad time to say: Suck it, Jesus. Kudos to Todd for his work!

LOLtheorists: Kung Fu Theorizing

kungfuramone, as I have learned from his blog, is a sharp and witty historian of the mid-20C philosophical Left in France. As such, he is the perfect person to provide us with an LOLtheorist riff on Sartre:

Thank you, KFR. I'm still giddy about this one.