Young, hung, and full of vitriol...

I can't offer works of staggering genius, but what you will get are my sometimes funny, questioningly intelligent, frighteningly vitriolic, occasionally shockingly sweet, but almost always charmingly grouchy ramblings on music, film, politics, society, pop culture, literature, queer life, travel, Kansas City, and the mundane, yet surreal aspects of everyday.

I'm a queer punk country boy in his late 30s, who has settled back in the midwest after a decade or so of living around the country. My boyfriend, MJ and I moved to Kansas City a couple of years ago after an insanely surreal life in rural, southeast Kansas. This is my attempt at getting back into writing after a longer than anticipated hiatus. I'm still a bit rusty, so be gentle with me...A bottle of wine, some Barry White, and a can of Crisco usually does the job.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

A drowning man takes down those nearest.

I honestly don’t care how typically gay it may make me sound, but Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? is, without a doubt, one of the most brilliantly written and acted films that I have ever seen. I am always in utter awe of how hideously funny, yet emotionally eviscerating the dialogue is. It’s hilarious to me that every time I watch this classic film starring Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, I approach it with the apprehension and emotional preparedness one usually reserves for some ridiculously violent European horror film. Watching the downward spiral of an evening spent with two people that love each other enough to absolutely fucking despise each other has always left me feeling stunned, squirming, and emotionally drained. To this day, I have never seen a film that manages to balance hilarious cocktail party quotes/insults with some of the most brutal commentary on human behavior, insecurity, and dysfunction that I have ever witnessed. I am very certain that this was the wrong film for me to watch tonight, of all nights, but I was drawn to , nonetheless….

1 comment: