Amoeblog

REDRUM, REDRUM: ALL THIS MURDER IS KILLING ME

Posted by Billyjam, June 20, 2007 02:10pm | Post a Comment

Murder is one those words that I hear every day and have for years and years and years, to the point, I fully admit, that I have become totally desensitized to its real meaning. Yep, to me, the more I hear the word murder, and especially the more I read it in yet another newspaper report, the more and more detached I seem to become from it. It has lost its initial intended meaning to me. In fact, right now as I type this and just think of the word MURDER in my head, I cannot help but hear the refrain from that classic 1993 dancehall reggae hit by Chaka Demus & Pliers, "Murder She Wrote," echoing happily in my skull: "murder she wrote, nah nahnah, murrrrder she wrote." So, to me, murder or that six letter word spelled backwards -- redrum (popularized by The Shining) -- is just another empty, meaningless word, or, even worse, alternately, it is a sexy catch-phrase, repeated in songs I hum, the theme of entertaining movies I watch, video games I play, books I read, and juicy headlines in morning newspapers I read as I sip my comforting coffee. So ultimately murder to me (and maybe to you too?) is just another hollow disposable word -- nothing more, nothing less. Unless, unless, that is, of course, that the word murder is directly connected to me personally or to somethe shiningone close to me.

So as I sat on the BART the other morning reading a small article in the Bay Area section of the San Francisco Chronicle under the heading "Two Murders In Oakland Over The Weekend," about a couple of unrelated fatal street shootings (one of them "gang related"), to be totally honest, it barely registered in my consciousness, just the same ol, same ol to this jaded soul. Until, that is, the location of one of the murders jumped off the page at me ("Fairview Ave. in the 100 block, north of Lake Merrit"). Damn! I realized that this was directly outside the apartment building where I stay. Later that day from talking to folks in the immediate East Bay neighborhood I found out all the killing's tragic details: that the murder happened on Friday night at 9:25PM. That it took place directly opposite the church (ironically) when a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street with two guys audibly arguing inside. Both got out, still arguing loudly, and one shot the other nine times before hopping back into the driver's seat to speed away leaving the body of a 29 year old man bleeding to death on that chilly Oakland night.

Continue reading...

(In which Job's boyfriend takes control of this blog.)

Posted by Job O Brother, June 20, 2007 12:28pm | Post a Comment


Today's blog is written by guest blogger, Corey, otherwise known as C$.

Job is busy making me dinner right now, so the least I can do is blog for him. I have also had one of his vodka-pomegranate cocktails, so I may be more lucid than usual.

At any rate, what is so hard about blogging? I do it all the time for The Advocate. Of course, it is usually at a film festival or something, so I have something interesting to talk about. But in the absence of such obvious content, what does one say?

I will tell you this: Job spends far too much time on these blogs. Time, I might add, not spent with me. I don’t think he got the memo that these should be short and pithy. The reader doesn’t have that much of an attention span anyway, and no patience for rambling and self-indulgence. What is more self-indulgent than a blog about someone’s life, never met, and their friends and experiences, never met, nor experienced. Does anyone really want to read any of that? Does anyone really want to see pictures of me in a red, satin tuxedo jacket perched atop a rock in the middle of Joshua tree? (Besides myself and Job of course).

It is only right that I tell you a few things about Job that perhaps he would never tell you. Only I can’t think of anything he doesn’t cop to. I just waxed his back this afternoon, but that isn’t very salacious. Let’s think… He barks a UPS trucks whenever he sees them. Yes, he barks, like a dog. No matter who is in the car. He acts like a real baby at about 11:30 pm every night. I ask him if he is tired (knowing, of course, that he is) and he responds “no” with pouted lower lip, and eyes droopy and childlike. The voice also is dismissive, blurted and vaguely resembling a grunt. Then he makes me pull him off the couch and pretends to be too tired to get up of his own will. He then pretends to be too tired to undress himself, get under sheets, or get on his own side. There is even fake crying and the rubbing of eyes. It is of course incredibly cute to me, but to the outside witness it would appear vaguely retarded and co-dependent. 

Crime Zone

Posted by phil blankenship, June 20, 2007 11:57am | Post a Comment
 





MGM / UA Home Video M801517

White Stripes on Conan

Posted by Miss Ess, June 19, 2007 09:52pm | Post a Comment
Brad is right, I will be posting about Icky Thump soon, prolly like tomorrow.  But for now, check out this performance of "Icky Thump" on Conan last night. 

Radi-cal!! 

Yes, I already have tickets for the show at the Greek Theater September 21.  And yes, the obsession borders on Misery-like, I know, but I can assure you all that when I met Jack White I clearly held back from axing his legs off or any of that crap.  I was the very picture of composure, really.  Yup, that's me.

I'll try to refrain for a while once I post about the record....

Legendary: Paris Is Burning

Posted by Miss Ess, June 19, 2007 09:12pm | Post a Comment
I watched the fantastic documentary Paris Is Burning this weekend. The film came out in 1991 and focuses on the dazzling Balls that Drag Queens created and participated in during the mid to late 80s in the Harlem Ballrooms of New York City. 

paris is burning drag vogue

The Balls are elaborate and flashy competitions, like a fashion and drag sporting event, complete with gaudy trophies. paris is burning legendary vogueEach person has the opportunity to compete in many different categories. The competition is fierce! Competitors walk/work the runway and are judged loudly and with much enthusiasm on their styles as well as their "Realness"-- how flawlessly they pull off drag.

Complicating and deepening the Ball scene is the division of the Queens into Houses. The Houses are named for different Queens who have been especially successful at the Balls -- they are called, appropriately,  "Legends." The way it is explained in the film is that the Houses are pretty much like willi ninja house of ninja vogue paris is burningBall gangs, each headed up by a Mother who is the most revered, respected member of the House and who provides emotional and aesthetic support to each member. Each House is really like a family. Members know where they can go to get support and advice, whether it's on life or makeup.

There's the House of Ninja, the House of LaBeija, the House of Dupree, the House of Xtravaganza, the House of St. Laurent...so many fabulous Houses! I love that there was a category at the Balls for "Mother of the Year." Perfect. Each House Mother has her moment to parade across and around the floor, but only one wins the coveted trophy.

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