Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Oh. MY. GOD.
Something amazing is happening this summer. Something I have dreamed of since I went to my first midnight mass at the Bridge theater in San Francisco at age 15. The culmination of the last 8 1/2 years of my life: JOHN WATERS IS GOING TO APPEAR AT MIDNIGHT MASS THIS SUMMER!!!! Peaches Christ will interview him. Subsequently, my head will explode, and I will die. Because this, people, this is like when the Ghostbusters cross their proton pack streams. THE WORLD WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.
Now, perhaps some of you out there need to be educated about what, exactly, the hell I am talking about.
fig 1) Peaches Christ
-drag queen extraordinaire
- fierce (as opposed to her sidekick and foil, Martiny, who is majorly flawed
-hostess of "midnight mass" midnight movie series, in it's 10th season this summer at the bridge theater in the fair city of San Francisco
fig 2) Midnight mass
-the greatest midnight movie show ever, complete with all-drag queen review pre-film,
-which I have gone to every summer since my gay friend barry (who i was in luv with) brought me to see "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" I was 15,
-home to drag queen roller derby,
-As I once told Gaby, "You could walk in with a needle in your arm and no one would raise an eyebrow."
fig 3) John Waters
-Is fucking hilarious:
(they show this before every midnight mass)
-made the greatest movie of all time*:
-he knows good music and wants to share it with the world:
-he gave the world DIVINE.
Need I say more?**
I couldn't be more psyched for this, y'all. I will be first in line. I'll be the one in the beehive wig, wearing a polyester dress. I can't fucking wait!!!***
*seriously, it's perfect. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this movie! Don't question me.
**let's just forget about the awfulness that was "A Dirty Shame." It never happened, okay? He gets a pass on that one
***ohmigod, I can't believe it! It's too good to be true!
Monday, April 23, 2007
So Many Men, Such Little Time
I feel you, girlfriend. This video is, like, soooo my life*:
*ie, I spent my high school years pining after unobtainable gay men who weren't sure they were gay yet. Though I was significantly less high than Miquel Brown when I did it.
We needed weenies. Mr. Brown had weenies.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Dear god, everyone is stealing my bit these days. First it's Reese, getting the credit for gay spiderman, when in fact I was the progenitor of said flaming superhero. Now Gaby's gone and taken my "all these rich people need to be re-educated, mao-style" joke, which originated on the SAME DAY as gay superman, though somewhat earlier, while driving through Westchester on the way to the fancy mall. What gives, people? Can't you come up with your own comedy routines? Too... chicken???
Well, anyway, there's one thing no one can take away from me: the glory of the tic-tac-toe playing chicken. While at home in San Francisco last week, I took a little trip down to Monterey with my mom and sister and mary. Obstensibly, it was to go to the aquarium, but what we all really wanted was to play tic-tac-toe with a chicken. My mother's friend had told her about said mythical creature (can such a beast truly exist?) and we had been talking about it for days before we left. I mean, you can hear mary mention it in this video i took of people looking at tuna in the aquarium:
We searched valiantly for the magical chicken, but alas, our quest was in vain. The (probably totally awesome and old and creepy) arcade where the chicken plyed it's trade had been gutted, probably to make room for another starbucks or fried fish shack of some sort. But thanks to the magic of the internet, we can watch a chicken play tic tac toe in the comfort of our own homes.
Wait, chickens can also play basketball? My mind is blown. Get me another bottle of that snake oil!
The Mostest Wonderful Time of the Year
Oh my! It has been almost one whole year since darling Simone and myself started this blog before you! Quite the anniversary (a "golden" anniversary, if you will) it will be for that on that holiest of days, May 2nd, the day we began this blog. How ever shall we celebrate?
Oh yeah, that's right, with 24 hour solid hours of Iron Maiden! I forgot.
Get ready for the Accordion Connection One-Year Anniversary Spectacular, people! Only 16 more shopping days!
PS: If you need to learn the lyrics to prepare, they're here: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/i/iron+maiden/run+to+the+hills_20068026.html
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Can I Have 4 Beers?
Call me un-classy, but I think it's hysterical when toddlers swear. Especially when they're swearing at Will Ferrell (is he trying to prove that he still has an edge by fighting a baby or what?)
UPDATE: Apparently Will Ferrell is so poor that by watching his video on Youtube, you're stealing food out of his sleeping baby's mouth or something, because he took the video down from there. I can't figure out how to get the dumb idiot embedded player from his site to work on here, so you can just watch the video here: http://22.214.171.124/v1/view_video.php?viewkey=3efbc24c7d2583be6925
Even though you should probably leave a comment on his site calling Ferrell a problematic member of the haute bourgeoisie and demanding that he be re-educated in the fields while his cash is redistributed to the proleteriat, you should still watch the video, because it is funny.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
But Only in a Funky Way, Of Course
I was originally going to write some caption to this like "Paula Abdul is clearly on serious 'doctor-prescribed back pain medication'in this video", but then I was afraid that you'd think I was talking about one of those dumb 'American Idol' outtake videos where she talks about pizza and giggles and stuff and, boy howdy, this is not like that AT ALL:
After Paula hit the highest heights with her debut album, "Forever Your Girl", she had to fall back down to earth, and her follow-up album, "Spellbound", is perhaps the sound of this very falling, with this song (in case you couldn't figure it out, it's called "Vibeology") serving as the primest prime example of that downfall, from America's sweetheart into some weird, pantsuit-wearing pill head who's going to end up hosting a game show (seriously, people, that's all that it is). Paula knows it's over in this video. You can see it in her face, in her baggy pant suit, in the way all of her "dancing" in this video is pretty much just her flexing her foot and extending her leg, and then kind of looking at the camera and shrugging. Paula knows that her fifteen minutes are up, and there is nothing ahead for her except Justin Guarini. Sad. Oh, also, right before the horn breakdown, after she says all that stuff about how she's doing it "in a funky way", the thing that she yells is "Horny horns!" For years I thought that she actually yelled "Party hard!", because, while that in deed is an asinine thing to yell in a song, I don't even know what you'd call yelling "Horny horns!" before the breakdown of a song that you ostensibly would like to be popular and help you to maintain a career and etc etc . You could have given me some magic potion that would make me live forever, only so I could more fully analyze the video and music of "Vibeology", and I still never would have guessed that the words yelled 'horny horns' (I looked the lyrics up online, obvs).
But let's try to remember Paula in a more innocent, and pre-nose job, time, okay?
It'll be at Julie's house, alright, where Paula is eternally young, and life is still filled with hopes and dreams and the promise of maybe not having to do a semi-sexual rap song with a cartoon cat. God bless.
PS: Not to break the mood, but did you know that MC Skat Cat had his own solo album? it's true! It was called "MC Skat Cat and the Stray Mob". Now you can win at pub quiz. Now if only someone would create a pub quiz with questions worth answering (i.e. only about Mc Skat Cat)
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Don't Fear the Reaper
I'm fairly confident that one of the most narcissistic, nay, megalomania...ish things a performer can do is glamourize one's own death. I mean, come ON. There are a few videos out there that really exemplify this kind of eggrandizement of one's tragic, sad, and ultimately totally dramatic, yet touching and beautiful, end. On the occasion of Britney Spears' recent release from rehab, let's do the broad a favor and begin with her.
The video for "Every time" (or is it "everytime"? Whatever.) was directed by David Lachapelle, who you may know better as that photographer who takes really really massively color-saturated photos of both celebrities and some plebians looking like glamorous, campy, trashy transvestite hookers. Take note:
And, lest we forget, here's a photo Chappelle took a few years ago of Courtney love as the Virgin Mary (or whoever, I'm no expert) holding the corpse of Curt Cobain, aka Jesus. I mean, good lord:
So, yeah, who better to glamorize one's tragic suicide via drowning in a jacuzzi than Mr. Chappelle himself? One might imagine Chappelle a sort of modern soothsayer, a reader of the leaves or the bones, as this video includes a lot of tragic foreshadowing about Britney's eventual fall from grace. Driven mad by fans/stardom? Check. Mean, uncaring boyfriend? Check. Running down the hallway in only an oversized white button-down? Check. (I mean, I assume this happened. I'm not with Brit 24/7). Anyway, don't take my word for it. Watch the video yourself:
Moving on... to Scott Weiland. Hey, remember the Stone Temple Pilots? When I was about 12, I thought they were really hardcore, because the lead singer, Mr. Weiland himself, was totally on HEROIN. OH MAN!!! HARDCORE!!! Well, he's back, and he's in this band with a ton of other wannabe lame-o losers... like Slash! You know, the guitarist from guns n' roses! he, like, wears a wacky top hat! woo! and there are some other guys, but i really could give a rat's ass...
Anyway, I remember a couple years ago when I first saw the video for Slither by Velvet Revolver. Wait... I remember thinking, wait, is this really happening? Who are all these guys? Is STP back together? Isn't Scott Weiland, like, dead? (this total confusion was not unlike many years ago when I first saw the music video for "Wannabe" by the spice girls. What's going on? Are there, like, 10 people in this group? WHAT'S GOING ON!!??) The answer, of course, is NO, Scott Weiland is not dead... but he IS pretending to overdose on smack in the most overwrought, narcissistic music video EVER MADE. But before that happens, he's gonna pose like he's being crucified in the catacombes of paris... wearing NAUGHT but silver pants (which, by the way, iggy did over 30 years ago... get the net, man!) and NAUGHT but black eyeliner. Then the band shalt perform in thine catacombes, drinking NAUGHT but jack daniel's and dancing NAUGHT but with midgets and hoes with tattoos... Could this video BE any more lame?
God, what DOUCHEBAGS!!!
Speaking of douchebags, it's one thing to kill yourself off... but what about the tragic death of the one you love? You know, complete with a full orchestra, two (2!) guitar solos, dramatic lighting, and images of jesus statues crying blood and candles being snuffed out? Of course, I am speaking about the tragic death music video to end all tragic death music videos, "November Rain" by Guns 'n' Roses. Clocking in at over 9 minutes, this music video cost 1.5 MILLION BUCKS to make, and the concert part was filmed at Carnegie hall. Also: check out his claw ring during the wedding scene. (also, i feel that Stephanie Seymour's wedding dress should warrant it's own posting on ripittoshreds.)
Side note: correct me if i'm wrong, but is the bar they go to hang out at called "the Rainbow"? Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is. Axl = GAY!!!
ADDENDUM: Well, i thought it all ended there, with my declaration that axl is a gay. But no! There's more! Apparently, after November Rain, GnR made a kinda-sequel video, "Don't cry," where Axl Rose wanders around, depressed about the death of his true love, and DESCENDS INTO MADNESS!!! Considering suicide, Axl ends up in a nuthouse, and symbolically visits his future grave.
Holy crap, the megalomania! And all over a girl... But somehow, I just don't buy it. I mean, this is the same guy who sang, "Used to love her" which includes the lyrics I used to love her, but I had to kill her. If that ain't romance, I don't know what is...
P.S. You MUST watch the ENTIRE "don't cry" video to truly be blown away. The ending is PURE GOLD. 24k, baby.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Easter Special: Eurotrash
So, I love Eurotrash. Do you ever try to visualize what you would look like if you were Eurotrash? I know I do. First off, I would be fat, sweaty Eurotrash, like a pre-diet Karl Lagerfeld, not emaciated-dying Eurotrash like poor Allegra Versace. As a side note on A. Versace, don't you think Donatella should go to jail or something for her obvious complicity in having her daughter become a dying weeping skeleton-lady? I can totally envision toddler-Allegra being smacked for reaching for a cookie, then being told she is a fatty and being forced to do laps around the living room. Give Donatella the chair! But anyway, despite being sweaty faty Eurotrash, I'd wear super-tight leather pants, flouncy metallic blouses that you could see my breasts through, and wrap-around sunglasses, and I'd listen to all of these songs:
Is this a cover or something?:
Because I feel like I remember hearing a less-jazzy version of it playing at Caldor's when I used to go with my mom around 1990 or so. Whatevs, I love it anyway. Though the way these dudes pretend to play instruments totally bothers me.
Luckily, this dude has no such pretensions:
Do you think the chick was his girlfriend before the aerobics class, or that they just communicated so thoroughly with their pelvic gyrations that, by the time class was over, there was nothing else to say? I would like to note, though, this did look a lot like a strip-aerobics class I took once, and if you do these moves as quickly as they do in the video, you will totally hurt your back.
I didn't remember this video being, uh, quite so gross. Where are they at the very end of this video? In jail, where disgusting perverts who take advantage of poor girls trapped in elevators belong? I freaking hope so!
Anyway, merry Eurotrash Easter, people. I'm gonna go get a beer.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
House of 1,000 Douches
I fucking hate Rob Zombie.
I need to begin this by noting that I bear no ill will towards White Zombie. I mean, we all enjoyed the first 15 seconds of "More Human Than Human", right? That's one for the ages. Okay, I used to kind of like White Zombie in junior high school. Whatever! Fuck you. This isn't about me! Anyway, I felt that Rob Zombie's first douche move was leaving White Zombie, to make his own records. I can just picture him douching around his house in 1996 or whatever, thinking to himself, " I'm really too big for White Zombie. I'm definitely more of a solo artist. I have unique contributions to make to rock n roll, and all these other people in this band dressed like methed-out hillbilly bike messengers are holding me back. I am the king of all methed-out hillbilly bike messengers, and ye shall taste my wrath!"
So he left to go make this:
I mean, look at what an asshole he looks like, dancing around with his little cane! And it's for the "Rollerball" soundtrack, in case you did not catch that.
But that would not be a real offense, were that the end. Oh, were it! But it were not. Rob Zombie decided he was a horror movie director, and made a little movie in 2003 called "House of 1000 Corpses" (I need to note that I did not actually watch this clip, because I refuse to even give RZ that much support, so it might be really barfy, you know--I didn't check!):
This takes me to why Rob Zombie really gets under my skin--I LOVE horror movies, particularly the 70s-80s slasher films Zombie seems to be drawing his inspiration from. However, I feel that Zombie's films, along with whoever remade Texas Chainsaw and a few other dudes, are part of a really insidious trend of people remaking slasher films without the feminist message they generally contained in the 70s. All the biggies--Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Texas Chainsaw, etc.--were about ordinary women pushed to their limit and forced to become extraordinary. It was a hero narrative that I think people often take the completely wrong way, but it's totally there--if you don't believe me, ask Carol Clover, man. But I feel like that arc, that idea, has been lost in a lot of very recent horror. The horror movies that came out in the mid-to-late 90s--Scream, Halloween H20, Ginger Snaps, etc--took that initial feminist message and pushed it further than it had ever previously gone, turning the feminist subtext to become the actual text. And it was awesome! And now, just as everything else is in a bit of a feminist backlash, horror movies are, too, focusing on the grotesque voyeur thrills of watching a woman be victimized, rather than allowing us to identify with the heroine and her transformation into a hero. And I think Rob Zombie is really a part of this--this whole gross, House of Wax, hot-nekkid-babes-covered-in-blood thing. He was really at the forefront of the naked girls in blood scene, and for someone who seemed to so campy in his music career, I really didn't think the victimization of girls in his movies was very campy at all. It was just gross. Which brings me to my real beef with Mr. Zombie:
Oh no you fucking didn't, Rob Zombie! You did NOT remake Halloween into a fucking gorss misogynist mess, where the real emphasis is on the killer, and not the development of the "final girl" whom we are all able to empathize with! NO WAY! I'mma fucking beat your ass, Eddie Munster. For reals. The end.