Wow

Michelle done us all proud at the Obamas' first state dinner Tuesday, in honor of Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and his wife Gursharan Kaur.

Nice to see the First Lady in something besides basic black.  Even as a gay man, I have to say fellas - she's a knockout.  Don't you agree?

BTW, a sign of the times:  among other prominent Indian-Americans invited to the dinner were lesbian activist Urvashi Vaid and her partner, comedian Kate Clinton.

What She's Really Like

One of Sullivan's readers explains why not nearly as many women like Palin as the men do:

Sarah Palin is the peppy cheerleader in high school all the boys thought was so sweet but the girls knew was really a vicious shrew. She's the new girl in the office who wears tight shirts and three-inch heels, is super-friendly to her male superiors, ignores the other women, and gets promoted sooner than her more capable and hard working peers. She's the outgoing PTA mom all of the other women are scared to cross because they will find themselves put on the worst committees. Only a woman knows how to give another woman a sweet smile and at the same time cut her down to size with an artfully crafted "compliment" without male observers having a clue about what just happened. It's like a dog whistle.

Um . . . ya know guys, I clued in on every single bit of that the very first time I saw the bitch.  

Does that make me a woman too?

This Damn Decade

In seven minutes, from Newsweek. 



Damn, what a fucking ride, huh?

Honk to Truckbuddy rptrcub.

Memo to Adam Lambert

You're not helping, shithead.



Look.At.Yourself.

 

Every mother's nightmare of what the horrible gays would be like if unloosed from their pen.  Thanks a lot, fucker.

You have a tremendous talent, and you're a fantastic showman.  And somewhere beneath the glitter and the mascara is a handsome man.  But all you can think to do is doll yourself up like a creep from a nighmare freak show, and be as gross as possible on nationwide television.

If you were doing a stage act in a gay nightclub, that might be different, though I wouldn't pay to watch you.  I prefer my porn straight out of the bottle and undiluted, thank you.

There's millions of people out there in big cities and small towns who also have talent but will never, ever get the breaks you've gotten.  And there's millions more people who would love to have a truly stellar example of gay talent to look up to and point to.  But little boy, you're just peeing on the carpet because you can.  I don't know who your daddy is, but he ought to set you down for a good talking - and a swift kick in the ass.

You would do well to man up and put that enormous talent to better use.  All you really need on stage is a white shirt, blue jeans, and microphone - and you could have the whole damn world at your feet every time you open your mouth and sing.  But you don't have the guts to do that.

Because the dirty little secret you think nobody knows is that you don't have enough confidence in your own talent - you think you have to use sex to sell yourself.  Buddy, you are so wrong, and I hope you find that out real quick.

Because if you want to end up as another hopelessly fucked-up, dead-early tragedy like others we could name - you're succeeding, big time.

Just an old country boy's thoughts - somebody who would like to admire you.  But doesn't.

Russ

Strong Enough

Your Head Trucker has just survived possibly the worst weekend of his life:  I'll spare you the gory details, it's just too gruesome.  All I can say is, whatever this bug is that hit me, it was a strong man.  But your Head Trucker, no candy-ass city boy, comes from a long line of good strong pioneer blood, and is happy to report that he was strong enough to prevail against the foe, and by the old-fashioned method:  sweating it out. 

(You young'uns don't know anything about that; you think you have to run to the doctor for some pretty little pills every time you have a pain or ache.  What do you think cowboys and country people did before there were pretty little pills, and a doctor on every street corner - or even paved streets?  Ask your grandmother.)

The proof being, I'm still alive and able to write these words to you this morning; though there was a time or two, all alone here, half-delirious with fever, running off from every outlet and seriously dehydrated, the outcome did seem a bit doubtful - but at those moments, you are so goddamn sick you don't really much care what the outcome is.

I'm still too shaky to work or concentrate for very long, but it seemed the crisis had passed by late yesterday afternoon, and I was able to eat (and retain) some solid food for the first time about 1 o'clock this morning.  The good news is, in four days I've lost 10 pounds; though I can't really recommend that as a diet plan. 

No pictures:  it would fracture your screen to show you my haggard, wild-eyed face after this ordeal.  So blogging may be light till I get my strength back but I'm okay.  Hope you guys are having a good week and preparing for a happy turkey day.

Here's Cher singing my motto for the week.  Skip the goofy visuals, just enjoy the music and the thought.

Lovelight: Now and Forever

Goodnight, guys.

River of Denial

Sullivan quotes from a letter written by a fellow Texan to President Johnson just two days after President Kennedy's assassination - of which today is the 46th anniversary (emphasis mine):

There is a virus of disrespect and hate spreading here very rapidly. And unless one lives right here with it, day in and day out, it is unbelievable how quickly and subtly it infects reasonably intelligent persons. This is not too hard to understand only if one recognizes the unremitting, deep, bitter religious and racial prejudice existing today in this section of our land — I don’t know if any of them are similarly infected in other sections, but I know personally of what I speak as regards East Texas.

In fact, although nearly every one indignantly denies having any racial or religious prejudice to the point where he deceives even himself in this matter, after listening seriously to protestations of horror and shock one can almost hear a collective sigh in essence, "Too bad he had to die but after all a Catholic is no longer in the White House and this ought to set the 'niggers' back on their heels for awhile!" It is painful to some of us I know to give credence to such a condition so we blind ourselves and blame a mentally confused person — forgetting in our desire to remove the blame from ourselves that where religious and racial prejudice prevails, not just the killer but all are mentally confused.

The first sentence of the second paragraph confirms what I've been telling you boys in my posts about the segregated South I grew up in:  millions of otherwise decent, respectable people - my own family, for example - were in serious denial about their prejudice and its roots in hatred.  And completely unwilling to examine their thinking or their behavior.  In fact, that, you might say, is the history of the South:  ever since the first slaves were brought to Jamestown about 1614, the long, long windings of the dark river, the tragic story of master and slave, us versus them.

If it had been left up to a popular vote in the Southern states in the 1960's, not a single one of them would have passed civil rights laws, and especially interracial marriage.  I guarantee you.  I'm not sure those things would ever have been passed at the ballot box down to this very day.

Yet this same Southern land is the most religious in the country, speckled with churches, piled up with Bibles. So proud to be Christians and Americans.

The human ability to deceive oneself, to ignore one's true motives, is powerful:  and that is where the human capacity for evil begins.

Not the Full Johnston

The leaked set of Levi's Playgirl pics.  Doesn't do much for me, but what do you guys think?

Contest Winner

Your Head Trucker is pretty knocked out with a heavy cold this weekend, so blogging may be light in the Blue Truck.

But I did want to award the prize for last week's contest, which goes to David of Midwestern Malaise.  For getting all the answers right, David wins a set of really big screws:

Nuts included.  Enjoy.

Film Buffs, Take Note

Timothy Bottoms and Cloris Leachman in The Last Picture Show, 1971

Your Head Trucker is happy to recommend a new blog by Truckbuddy Marty from the UK:  Film-Daily, which focuses on American and European cinema, as well as film history and world film festivals.  It's a pretty cool site if you're into movies, go give it a try.  Tell him Russ sent you.

Open Thread Friday: Thanksgiving

First there's the trip, then the relatives you're glad to see, then the other relatives, then the turkey and dressing, then the shopping, then the pooping out and the long trip home.

What's the gayest thing you're going to do next week?