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V is for Vindication

From Hell. Constantine. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Sin City. V for Vendetta. To most people, this is a list of mediocre films. To a few people, these are also the titles of graphic novels. These five films are only … Read More

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Straight Outta’….Baltimore?

In his Baltimore basement, Edan has carved his name across the forty-year span of rock and hip-hop. “Rock and Roll” melds Velvet Underground and Black Sabbath into feedback-frayed banger that would play comfortably in Queens circa ’88, or the Filmore East circa ’68. This kind of mad-scientist approach embodies the best of rock and roll.

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The Polygamist Next Door

It’s like one of those Twilight Zone epiphanies that arrives midway through an episode to thwart the lately begotten hopes and dreams of whatever poor fool thought he caught a lucky break or maybe had a good thing going. So … Read More

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Jesus Christ Supersized

John Hagee has perfected this easily accessible, easily consumed version of Christianity at Cornerstone. He has pared down the commitment, time and energy one needs to devote to religion to the barest minimum. You simply show up at 8:30, 11:00 or 6:30 on Sunday and worship. For a little over an hour, you can cleanse your soul, praise the Lord and find peace. And you don’t need to strain yourself, either. The music is simple. The message is alliterative.

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Who’s Afraid of Bestiality

Come for the shouting and shattered glass, stay for the confessional outbursts, wry dialogue, and fascinating sexual politics. This superb production, directed by Whitney Mosery ’08, presents the tragic aftermath of a man’s inexplicable affair with a goat – the … Read More

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Discovering My Duende

As I sit here with a dirty flamenco dress I haven’t worn since April 2004, I subscribe to the city’s motto “NoDo.” The acronym stands for “Sevilla no me ha dejado,” meaning “Sevilla has not left me.” I don’t know when I will physically go back to Sevilla, but the splotches on my skirt tell me the memories will never wash away.

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Women or Work?

The last time I faced the agreeable task of opining on theatrical matters in a writerly fashion was a gaping decade ago. I was ten, I was wide-eyed, and I was smitten with Grendel. Or was it Grendel’s mother? That … Read More

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Back in the C.C.C.P.

It takes an impresario to found a Russian movement. But for a moment’s continued interest in the present, a queer and inexplicable slavophilia must appear to have its dance with history. And now, 15 years after the fall of the … Read More

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The Rules of Romance

Rule #1: Be Yourself (Unless Yourself Sucks) It is a delicate balance, understanding the difference between being sincere and being who you really are. But it is a balance you must master if you want to master us (that was … Read More

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Arts and Crafts after Katrina

If there is a God, and a moral order to the world, making a 100 million dollar donation to Princeton earmarked for the arts will not get you into heaven. Wandering through Princeton’s art museum the other night for the … Read More

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Lascivious in Lascaux

The minute details of sex never escape the eye of the prehistoric human artist. What registers here is a fascination with the sexual that extends beyond its ritual fetishization in functional appeals to some magical force for human fertility or robust herds. This art is uncanny and wonderful because sex is not sublimated or displaced into some other visual language, but is itself sublime, itself celebrated.

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8 bits be enough

In the simple world that it posits, there is no World but the Hockey Rink. There is no Universe but the Firmament of Floating Crowd Heads. There is no Time but the Match Clock. There is no Woman, and there are but four categories of Man: there is Goalie, Fat Man, Average Man, and Skinny Man. There are Soviet Russians. There is no fucking around. Good luck, cupcake.

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