stunning
Well-Known Member
Thomas Dunning's HOOT NIGHT ~ On the run!
The Saddest Songs in the World
Performed In Concert in the Cabaret Room of The Lower Deck
Portobello, Dublin
Friday the 13th of February
8pm doors
10 Euro
St. Valentine's Eve
Featuring
Susan Enan
Herm
Jessie & Layla
The Jimmy Cake
MEDEA
Micheal Knight
Keith Moss
Mumblin' Deaf Ro
My Brother Woody
National Prayer Breakfast
Nigel & Fiona
Omelette
and
Tom Dunning & Your Boyfriends
...come cry with us.
Ps. This show's theme was inspired by Chicago heartbreakers Susan Voelz and Jane Baxter Miller.
Pps. We return to The Sugar Club for another show in April 04.
_______________________________________________________
www.sfgate.com
Curse Words For Janet Jackson:
Daddy, why does that f--- politician hate women's breasts? Because
he's a s-- and a hypocrite, honey
By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
©2004 SF Gate
URL: sfgate.com/article.cgi?
file=/gate/archive/2004/02/04/notes020404.DTL
Jaws were clenched. Brows were furrowed. Scowls were scowled. Fake
sanctimony was hissed. Pasty cellulitic butts were scrunched. This is
what happened.
Just last week, well before Janet Jackson reignited her limp career
in the most nipple-riffic PR stunt in months, uptight members of
Congress from all corners squeezed their narrow ideologies into
little fiery balls and decided to berate, as they so often do, radio
and TV for being "vile, crude, disgusting, and awful," yo hey pot
kettle black. And, lo, lightning did not strike them dead on the
spot.
Why the outburst? Because Bono said the delicious f-word during the
Golden Globes, and it wasn't edited out. Because a few of the
country's crude 'n' obnoxious Clear Channel shock-radio stations you
would never listen to because you have taste and a brain aired one of
those vapid sexist gag radio bits called "Bubba the Love Sponge" that
appeal only to semicatatonic homophobic frat boys.
Oh, and because S.F.'s own KRON-TV dared to accidentally flash a shot
of a real penis during a segment about the very much not-all-that-
funny "Puppetry of the Penis" theater show. Shocking. Appalling.
Honey cover your eyes.
And thus did the sanctimonious pseudo-Christian cry go out, powerful
and time tested by politicians worldwide, guaranteed to induce fear
and ignorance and allow them to paint themselves as all self-
righteous and ethical and pretend they're not a corporate shill
raping the environment from the back pocket of an oil lobbyist: Who --
pray, who -- will protect the children?
So the politicos, they hissed, they derided, they wrapped themselves
in cloaks of hypocrisy and righteousness and proposed a bill to
quintuple the Federal Communication Commission's powers to
punish "crude, vile" media violators -- i.e., anyone who broadcasts
certain "forbidden" swear words or exposes genitalia or offers up
crude schlock-radio pap, as if these are the true demons of society,
the true leeches sucking the souls of the virtuous and the young.
Wrong again, pols.
Which leads us, naturally, straight to Janet Jackson's nipple. To the
instantly infamous and fully intentional breast-exposing PR stunt
wherein Justin Timberlake "accidentally" ripped off one of Janet's
breast plates, exposing one quite cool silver sunburst nipple shield,
just before a panicky CBS cut to a much more morally virtuous Pepsi
commercial.
Once again, America was shocked and appalled. Families were
horrified. Civilizations trembled. Churches crumbled. Upwards of 89
million viewers gasped and made the sign of the cross and realized
just how desperate Janet's career must've been that she had to try to
pull that one off. So to speak.
And oh yes, children were traumatized, too. Deeply scarred. Forever
and ever. So very sad.
Because children are always traumatized by such events, aren't they?
The wee ones simply can't handle sex and nudity and swearing and it's
a wonder the damn little things can get out of bed in the morning,
what with all the f-words and exposed nipples and penises flopping
around out there. Right, senator? The poor dears. Thank god for
Spongebob.
So outraged was the populace that Michael Powell, sanctimonious head
of the FCC, he of the flagrant corporate whoring who recently tried
to cram through new rules that would've allowed a handful of media
giants to own almost every media outlet in the nation, is actually
launching a probe into the Janet episode. How cute.
This is the message: A woman's bare breast is a horrific and
disturbing thing, completely inappropriate for an afternoon of
wholesome macho homoerotic skull-bashing NFL violence and endless
hours of nauseating commercial crassness -- unless the woman is, you
know, a cheerleader. Now rush off to bed kids, and read your Bibles
while Mommy and Daddy pop some Zoloft and Levitra and crack a few Bud
Lights and head off to the fetish dungeon to lick our new Ford GT.
Got it.
Yes, a woman's flesh is unspeakable evil. However, umpteen erectile-
dysfunction commercials and crotch-biting pisswater Bud Light
commercials and toxic-junk-food commercials and faux-macho truck
commercials and the ad featuring two old people beating each other up
over a bag of greasy potato chips, why, that's just tasteful, healthy
capitalism. Is that it, Mike? Politicians? Just want to be clear.
Because there is no outcry. There are no snide FCC honchos or uptight
politicians hurling the terms "vile," "disgusting" and "crude" at the
true poisons of the culture, like those above -- not to mention
politicians' own oil cronyism or easy lies about war, or the
decimation of our foreign policy. You want to talk vile and
disgusting, senator? Have you seen the new BushCo budget?
Most telling side note: Bono, of U2, was barred from performing a
song about AIDS awareness at the Super Bowl because he is "too
political," given how he fights for those horrible un-American causes
of peace and Third World debt relief.
But pseudo-gangsta P. Diddy can pimp like a talentless thug and Kid
Rock can, well, be Kid Rock and NFL players can kneel in smarmy bogus
prayer rituals, praying fervently to crush the other team's vertebrae
and win a shiny trophy. My God but we are so beautifully, deeply
screwed.
Mind, this is no impassioned defense of vulgar radio or tacky
overblown halftime stunts, which are, by American tradition, inane
and insulting on 157 levels. After all, a nation gets exactly the
type of schlock entertainment it deserves. And, as for the children,
well, if you let your 5-year-old listen to Howard Stern, you get
exactly the kind of kid you deserve, too.
But in the final analysis, which is more harmful to your innocent
unsoiled perfect child? Hearing Bono say "this is really f--ing
brilliant" during the Golden Globes and ogling Janet Jackson's PR-
happy breast for all of 1.7 seconds, or the endless stream of blood-
soaked images of BushCo's bogus war machine interspersed with never-
ending commercials featuring misogyny, bestiality, cheap beer and
toxic sodas, along with arrays of pneumatic bleached-toothed
cheerleaders doing the splits while sweaty 300-pound men in tights
pulverize each other like gorillas on meth?
Verily, congressman, and truly, Mr. Powell, why are you not out there
screaming and clenching your fists and protecting our innocent
children from the endless array of sociocultural lies and abuses and
corporate whorings you yourselves support and help perpetuate?
Why are you not, in short, ranting about the need to protect our
children from the likes of, well, you?
The Saddest Songs in the World
Performed In Concert in the Cabaret Room of The Lower Deck
Portobello, Dublin
Friday the 13th of February
8pm doors
10 Euro
St. Valentine's Eve
Featuring
Susan Enan
Herm
Jessie & Layla
The Jimmy Cake
MEDEA
Micheal Knight
Keith Moss
Mumblin' Deaf Ro
My Brother Woody
National Prayer Breakfast
Nigel & Fiona
Omelette
and
Tom Dunning & Your Boyfriends
...come cry with us.
Ps. This show's theme was inspired by Chicago heartbreakers Susan Voelz and Jane Baxter Miller.
Pps. We return to The Sugar Club for another show in April 04.
_______________________________________________________
www.sfgate.com
Curse Words For Janet Jackson:
Daddy, why does that f--- politician hate women's breasts? Because
he's a s-- and a hypocrite, honey
By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
©2004 SF Gate
URL: sfgate.com/article.cgi?
file=/gate/archive/2004/02/04/notes020404.DTL
Jaws were clenched. Brows were furrowed. Scowls were scowled. Fake
sanctimony was hissed. Pasty cellulitic butts were scrunched. This is
what happened.
Just last week, well before Janet Jackson reignited her limp career
in the most nipple-riffic PR stunt in months, uptight members of
Congress from all corners squeezed their narrow ideologies into
little fiery balls and decided to berate, as they so often do, radio
and TV for being "vile, crude, disgusting, and awful," yo hey pot
kettle black. And, lo, lightning did not strike them dead on the
spot.
Why the outburst? Because Bono said the delicious f-word during the
Golden Globes, and it wasn't edited out. Because a few of the
country's crude 'n' obnoxious Clear Channel shock-radio stations you
would never listen to because you have taste and a brain aired one of
those vapid sexist gag radio bits called "Bubba the Love Sponge" that
appeal only to semicatatonic homophobic frat boys.
Oh, and because S.F.'s own KRON-TV dared to accidentally flash a shot
of a real penis during a segment about the very much not-all-that-
funny "Puppetry of the Penis" theater show. Shocking. Appalling.
Honey cover your eyes.
And thus did the sanctimonious pseudo-Christian cry go out, powerful
and time tested by politicians worldwide, guaranteed to induce fear
and ignorance and allow them to paint themselves as all self-
righteous and ethical and pretend they're not a corporate shill
raping the environment from the back pocket of an oil lobbyist: Who --
pray, who -- will protect the children?
So the politicos, they hissed, they derided, they wrapped themselves
in cloaks of hypocrisy and righteousness and proposed a bill to
quintuple the Federal Communication Commission's powers to
punish "crude, vile" media violators -- i.e., anyone who broadcasts
certain "forbidden" swear words or exposes genitalia or offers up
crude schlock-radio pap, as if these are the true demons of society,
the true leeches sucking the souls of the virtuous and the young.
Wrong again, pols.
Which leads us, naturally, straight to Janet Jackson's nipple. To the
instantly infamous and fully intentional breast-exposing PR stunt
wherein Justin Timberlake "accidentally" ripped off one of Janet's
breast plates, exposing one quite cool silver sunburst nipple shield,
just before a panicky CBS cut to a much more morally virtuous Pepsi
commercial.
Once again, America was shocked and appalled. Families were
horrified. Civilizations trembled. Churches crumbled. Upwards of 89
million viewers gasped and made the sign of the cross and realized
just how desperate Janet's career must've been that she had to try to
pull that one off. So to speak.
And oh yes, children were traumatized, too. Deeply scarred. Forever
and ever. So very sad.
Because children are always traumatized by such events, aren't they?
The wee ones simply can't handle sex and nudity and swearing and it's
a wonder the damn little things can get out of bed in the morning,
what with all the f-words and exposed nipples and penises flopping
around out there. Right, senator? The poor dears. Thank god for
Spongebob.
So outraged was the populace that Michael Powell, sanctimonious head
of the FCC, he of the flagrant corporate whoring who recently tried
to cram through new rules that would've allowed a handful of media
giants to own almost every media outlet in the nation, is actually
launching a probe into the Janet episode. How cute.
This is the message: A woman's bare breast is a horrific and
disturbing thing, completely inappropriate for an afternoon of
wholesome macho homoerotic skull-bashing NFL violence and endless
hours of nauseating commercial crassness -- unless the woman is, you
know, a cheerleader. Now rush off to bed kids, and read your Bibles
while Mommy and Daddy pop some Zoloft and Levitra and crack a few Bud
Lights and head off to the fetish dungeon to lick our new Ford GT.
Got it.
Yes, a woman's flesh is unspeakable evil. However, umpteen erectile-
dysfunction commercials and crotch-biting pisswater Bud Light
commercials and toxic-junk-food commercials and faux-macho truck
commercials and the ad featuring two old people beating each other up
over a bag of greasy potato chips, why, that's just tasteful, healthy
capitalism. Is that it, Mike? Politicians? Just want to be clear.
Because there is no outcry. There are no snide FCC honchos or uptight
politicians hurling the terms "vile," "disgusting" and "crude" at the
true poisons of the culture, like those above -- not to mention
politicians' own oil cronyism or easy lies about war, or the
decimation of our foreign policy. You want to talk vile and
disgusting, senator? Have you seen the new BushCo budget?
Most telling side note: Bono, of U2, was barred from performing a
song about AIDS awareness at the Super Bowl because he is "too
political," given how he fights for those horrible un-American causes
of peace and Third World debt relief.
But pseudo-gangsta P. Diddy can pimp like a talentless thug and Kid
Rock can, well, be Kid Rock and NFL players can kneel in smarmy bogus
prayer rituals, praying fervently to crush the other team's vertebrae
and win a shiny trophy. My God but we are so beautifully, deeply
screwed.
Mind, this is no impassioned defense of vulgar radio or tacky
overblown halftime stunts, which are, by American tradition, inane
and insulting on 157 levels. After all, a nation gets exactly the
type of schlock entertainment it deserves. And, as for the children,
well, if you let your 5-year-old listen to Howard Stern, you get
exactly the kind of kid you deserve, too.
But in the final analysis, which is more harmful to your innocent
unsoiled perfect child? Hearing Bono say "this is really f--ing
brilliant" during the Golden Globes and ogling Janet Jackson's PR-
happy breast for all of 1.7 seconds, or the endless stream of blood-
soaked images of BushCo's bogus war machine interspersed with never-
ending commercials featuring misogyny, bestiality, cheap beer and
toxic sodas, along with arrays of pneumatic bleached-toothed
cheerleaders doing the splits while sweaty 300-pound men in tights
pulverize each other like gorillas on meth?
Verily, congressman, and truly, Mr. Powell, why are you not out there
screaming and clenching your fists and protecting our innocent
children from the endless array of sociocultural lies and abuses and
corporate whorings you yourselves support and help perpetuate?
Why are you not, in short, ranting about the need to protect our
children from the likes of, well, you?
buzzin'. chill.
