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dannygoodmanwriting:

Because, yes.
Sherlock and Jeremy Brett, always.

dannygoodmanwriting:

Because, yes.

Sherlock and Jeremy Brett, always.

Cyrus’s twerk act gives minstrelsy a postmodern careerist spin. Cyrus is annexing working-class black “ratchet” culture, the potent sexual symbolism of black female bodies, to the cause of her reinvention: her transformation from squeaky-clean Disney-pop poster girl to grown-up hipster-provocateur. (Want to wipe away the sickly-sweet scent of the Magic Kingdom? Go slumming in a black strip club.)
MLS has announced its 20th team: New York City FC […] It’ll be owned by Manchester City, in partnership with the New York Yankees. It will be sponsored by oil and evil.
I did not know the Cuban Tourism Board had Keith Richards money.

I did not know the Cuban Tourism Board had Keith Richards money.

What we can bear

The BBC Reports:

A strip club in New York state cannot claim a tax exemption for the performing arts because lap dances do not promote culture in a community, the state supreme court has ruled.

I originally had a snide comment about this when I read it, something along the lines of if I could have given lap dances, my theater company would not only still exist, it would be turning a healthy profit. Then I remembered an incident during rehearsals for my first produced show, and I was ashamed.

Our premiere production was my play The Danish Mediations/slots. One of the subplots involved a budding romance between two women. In the initial read-through we got to the scene where they made out on stage, which was read impassively by my stage manager and met with shifting and giggling (the two actresses were straight). It was at this point that my fight choreographer loudly and crassly proclaimed: “Can’t wait to see that!”

I allowed the deathly pall that fell over the room to be his punishment. In retrospect, I now know that it was not nearly enough.

Perhaps I could have kicked him out. I could have made it clear that these were working artists embarking on a project that did not exist for his titillation. I certainly needed to tell him, publicly, to shut the fuck up.

To my eternal embarrassment, I didn’t. In asking two performers to take risks, I failed in my obligation to create a safe environment in which they could expose their vulnerability onstage.

I’m not going to even get into the rationale behind the sex work industry — let someone with more letters behind their name and more years in academia unpack that — but a decision equating a lap dance with a theater performance would have justified my fight choreographer’s cat call.

There is a place for titillation and eroticism in theater: part of the excitement of having a line is threatening to cross it. But like Potter Stewart with obscenity, when it comes to an exploitative artistic situation, I know it when I see it.

[FYI: My produced plays live here. The Danish Mediations/slots will join them shortly]

Rizzo, Boswell and all those who defended this decision should have the courage and the sense of shame to say that they were dead wrong. The true legacy of the Strasburg shutdown was shutting down an unforgettably beautiful season, leaving a legacy that tastes worse than chewing on dry aspirin. The arrogance of management and an unquestioning local media: it will get you every time.
Horny Rich People Problems

[…] The most perplexing question in the [Dominique] Strauss-Kahn affair is how a career politician with ambition to lead one of Europe’s most powerful nations was blinded to the possibility that his zest for sex parties could present a liability, or risk blackmail.

The exclusive orgies called “parties fines” — lavish Champagne affairs costing around $13,000 each — were organized as a roving international circuit from Paris to Washington by businessmen seeking to ingratiate themselves with Mr. Strauss-Kahn. Some of that money, according to a lawyer for the main host, ultimately paid for prostitutes because of a shortage of women at the mixed soirees orchestrated largely for the benefit of Mr. Strauss-Kahn, who sometimes sought sex with three or four women.

  1. When you have to tolerate your irritating uncle to score luxury box tickets for a client, you’re making a sacrifice to climb the career ladder. When you’re spending $13,000 so that a lecherous old man can sex three to four women in a night, surely you must have to fight that voice in that back of your brain that says maybe I should have become a humble cobbler instead…
  2. There was a shortage of women who willingly engaged in these seedy, pornographic fantasies made manifest? That is shocking. Truly.
  3. But if anyone would understand how to use the invisible hand to alleviate shortages in the market…it would be people currying favor with the IMF.

[via NYT]

Vice President Biden’s “can you believe this shit?” moment with the camera, for ever and ever, courtesy of The Atlantic, I am happy and content

Vice President Biden’s “can you believe this shit?” moment with the camera, for ever and ever, courtesy of The Atlantic, I am happy and content

I like to think this is how Axelrod looked watching the Imbroglio in Colorado this week
[via Capital NY]

I like to think this is how Axelrod looked watching the Imbroglio in Colorado this week

[via Capital NY]