Accept that this sorrowful song will never be heard/experienced the same after learning from Jermaine in this very way, how much this song meant to Michael. In context to his life and how he chose to live it, against all odds, despite several life incidents that would cause most people to break down and give up, Michael apparently still chose to believe in people. It calls upon that life motto, “what one gives, one shall receive.” I hope all who surrounded him in his 50 years of life, gave him the love he needed and deserved. Besides a select few, no one will ever really know.
I can’t-nor do I want-to ignore the utter contrast in media attention pre- and postmortem. He was portrayed as anything but angelic and inspirational in the media over most of the past decade. Regardless, I’m touched by the positivity caught in today’s service. I cringe in anticipation of the sensationalized aftermath attention to his relatives, especially his three children. For all that’s good that resided in this one human being, whose influence reached more people than several former presidents (what else to compare him to??), I can’t help but wish he had been recognized for it while he was alive and with us. True to human nature, we cherish that which we lose.
It’s just a good kind of new day when the President of the US maintains an online presence to keep us informed. From Twitter to Facebook to his own official website, I’m happy to see him reaching out to anyone and everyone who’s interested, making him accessible (or at least appear as such, to be fair). Even if it isn’t really him, it’s officially okayed by him. Regardless, he is keeping up with all forms of communication to include all generations, young and old. With this strong online presence, he appeals to a younger generation whose votes can and should determine the future. And Obama’s the first [president] to acknowledge and welcome that.
Click here for his official letter to us, and see below for his email to us:
Friend –
This weekend, our family will join millions of others in celebrating America. We will enjoy the glow of fireworks, the taste of barbeque, and the company of good friends. As we all celebrate this weekend, let’s also remember the remarkable story that led to this day.
Two hundred and thirty-three years ago, our nation was born when a courageous group of patriots pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to the proposition that all of us were created equal.
Our country began as a unique experiment in liberty — a bold, evolving quest to achieve a more perfect union. And in every generation, another courageous group of patriots has taken us one step closer to fully realizing the dream our founders enshrined on that great day.
Today, all Americans have a hard-fought birthright to a freedom which enables each of us, no matter our views or background, to help set our nation’s course. America’s greatness has always depended on her citizens embracing that freedom — and fulfilling the duty that comes with it.
As free people, we must each take the challenges and opportunities that face this nation as our own. As long as some Americans still must struggle, none of us can be fully content. And as America comes ever closer to achieving the perfect Union our founders dreamed, that triumph — that pride — belongs to all of us.
So today is a day to reflect on our independence, and the sacrifice of our troops standing in harm’s way to preserve and protect it. It is a day to celebrate all that America is. And today is a time to aspire toward all we can still become.
With very best wishes,
President Barack Obama
July 4th, 2009
P.S. — Our nation’s birthday is also an ideal time to consider serving in your local community. You can find many great ideas for service opportunities near you at http://www.serve.gov.
—————
After reading that, of course I looked into a way to volunteer. I haven’t volunteered my time on a regular basis for the betterment of anything in an organized way… for years. Let’s see if the hoped-for effect happens, shall we?
P.S. Here are photos that further support the portrait of Obama as one not unlike most of us who grew up in the US (photo credits to RollingStone), complete with swinging a bat:
I once got to see the 1999 World Champion ballroom dancers perform in person in a hotel banquet room. I used to watch PBS coverage of ballroom dance competitions, replete with sequins and dyed feathers. The above two clips are good film portrayals of the beautiful ferocity of ballroom dance (note both films are baz films). The downside to ballroom is that indeed, it takes two to tango. As the female, I have to rely on my partner to lead. Thus we have the limiting factor. But the tango clip above is a good dose of dance inspiration that makes me think it time to give this dance form another chance.
I’m drunk, first of all. I had to backspace to spell that correctly. SSL = SOLID STATE LOGIC, and you should know about this band if you are in any way devoted to underground unsigned bands. San Francisco houses rare talent, and SSL is a beacon when it comes to that. I have scouted them out at various venues within SF: Slims, Bottom of the Hill, Oakland Metro, Great American Music Hall, and now they’re featured on a local radio station, Live105, on Sunday’s Soundcheck show, hosted by Aaron Axelsen. I met Aaron once. He’s bleach blonde and eccentric, possibly bi, vcool. I appreciate his Livermore roots and devotion to Indie music but openness to rock. Hence his inviting SSL to play at Live105’s summer annual BFD music festival at Shoreline. Anyway, check out SSL here.
When it rains, most people avoid being in it. If they’re caught out when it starts, they cover up and seek shelter. If prepared for it, they face it from underneath umbrellas or in rain boots and water resistant pants and hoodies. I for some reason have always sought the rain out with nothing separating me from it. I have always been drawn to it in all its forms – sunny day sprinkles, overcast drizzles, torrential downpour, hail, and purple-cloud-heavy thunderstorms. I remember sneaking out of the house in the wee hours of the morning at age 6, just to sit in the rain and enjoy a front row seat to the larger-than-life show of lightning and thunder.
To this day, I love getting wet and dirty in the rain. I’m no hippie, though I <3 hippies (most, anyway )… and I did create a twirling group in college to help friends de-stress (quite effective)… but I digress. There’s something about min. 2:35-3:25 from the clip below, taken from the movie Swept from the Sea, that captures the quiet panacea of being entirely cloaked in rain. I’ll say that I relate to the character in a way I’ve never really related to any fictional character on screen. Go figure it’s a girl (played by the beautiful Rachel Weisz) by herself whom no one seems to understand, accompanied by swelling orchestral strings. Albeit dramatic, quite beautiful.
So check out what I’m referring to by fast forwarding to minute 2:35:
Ever since the song “It’s Been Awhile” got more air time than it deserved, Staind became a band I found innocuously annoying for unofficially copyrighting a common conversation starter that when used, forced me to hear Aaron Lewis lugging those words through a sleepy melody, 14 times. To this day, when I hear the phrase uttered, I can’t get Staind’s damn song out of my head.
But then I heard another song of theirs recently on my Pandora quicklist (Pandora’s aptitude for figuring out what other songs and artists you’d like is impressive):
“Take This” (Chapter V album) boomeranged me back to appreciating the band and lamenting radio for not playing it. This song unapolagetically appeals to the heart better than their other big hit “Right Here” through a simple unadorned melody that builds up to a chorus full of perfect vulnerability and (of course) melancholy. Savory from start to finish, I downloaded this from iTunes and bathed in it on repeat for 8 hours straight. Take this.
Elmer Valentine, who’s given credit for inventing the gogo dancer in his Whiskey a Go Go club on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, died recently. In the spirit of celebrating what he created, I think it’s an appropriate time to finally share this part of my life.
I started my gogo dancing career at a lesbian Cream party in a South San Francisco dance club. I disappeared on the box in my conservative all-black outfit, dancing my technically polished hip hop. My showmanship proved lackluster for a crowd wanting an intimate connection I knew not how to fake. Dollar bills stayed aloft at their fingertips around my box but found their way to neon-fishnets-clad hips and breasts moving sensually if not outright sexually on other boxes around me. Starting this night I began learning tricks of the trade, a few basics of which I’ll share here. What I wish I had known before embarking on this path of professional nightclub entertainment:
First, apparel: An important distinction to assert is that gogo dancing is not stripping. While gogo dancers wear little and can perform on poles, they keep whatever clothes they have on. Now scantily clad women may call forth unfortunate labels – “slut,” “whore,” or the general dismissive “trash” come to mind. Further unfortunate, women promoting scantily clad dancing women may provoke feminists to cry out in disapproval for supposed perpetuation of the very stereotype they’re trying to quash in an earnest campaign toward achieving ultimate gender equality. But, as a college graduate who believes in gender equality, I am here to tell you what works in this industry, and that is this: Wear very little. Highlight your best assets, and own your sex appeal no matter what (this can be helped with some alcohol, which is another aspect I’ll discuss in a later entry). Ultimately, what you wear is sexiness, and that’s what translates to the crowd best.
Second, lingo: Be ready for rampant use of terms of endearment that substitute for your name (or stage name as it may be) – “lovely,” “honey,” “sweetheart,” “babe,” “sexy,” “hot mama,” – executed with overt flirtation and passe. It creates an immediate family feeling, in a placebo effect kind of way. Plus, nightclub entertainment comes with a revolving door not only for patrons but also for employees – fellow dancers, promoters, big bosses, bartenders, and bouncers – so why bother remembering names, especially since all involved prefer to maintain alluring/mysterious images anyway?
Third, dance space:
- Boxes are usually in the thick of the crowd, smack in the middle of the floor or lining it, so stay centered, or else you lose your balance and next thing you know, you’re relying on the crowd or security to catch you and push you back up (it’s happened). To mount boxes gracefully – in platform boots – start with your back to the box, palms face down on its surface, elbows pointed backward, and hoist yourself up to a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of the box.
- Poles are fun and act as a dancing partner to spin around among other things, allowing for switching up dance movements quite a bit. I taught myself at a very young age… I had poletential (har). If you want to learn, go to a strip club and observe, or take a class, or watch video clips.
- Shadowboxes are beautiful and unforgiving. You feel separated from the crowd because you can’t see anyone, but they can see you, very clearly. Stay as close to the divider as possible to keep a clear silhouette, and move in slo mo.
- Cages are ideal because you have a railing to use as leverage and for balance, allowing you to dance more fiercely. Because they tend to be set above the crowd, be mindful of how you move so that people can’t snap photos of bits you’d rather keep private.
Yours,
Modern Day Ishtar
What comes to mind when you think of a sideshow? If it’s a black-haired Jesus doing a suspension by four hooks in his back; an exposed penis mixed with Lucky Charms, kitten fetus, and cow tongue; a pig’s heart out of a burlesque dancer’s bra; a demolition of cinder blocks, plywood, and an old radio by a sledge hammer; some world-record-breaking sword-swallowing; a sparking metal crotch; an 8-foot-long boa named Moa; a stilt-walking dancer, bearded lady dancer, fish girl dancer, and alligator girl dancer; a corpse bride trapezist; some optical illusionists and jugglers; a feather fanning aerialist; or a strip tease resulting in human blood down a pale back pierced with feathers, then you’re familiar with a modern day sideshow in San Francisco. The picture above captures observing the moment the pale back is pierced with feathers prior to the on-stage solo act for an unprepared mother, a performance that would consist of a girl pulling feathers out of her back one at a time in between pauses to remove articles of clothing one at a time, until an audience member would take it upon herself to reach up on stage and rip feathers out two at a time, inducing blood spilling and face smashing and a security guard rushing to interfere – only to be stabbed by a tip of a feather freshly ripped from the pale back – and therein goading the performer to finish what she started by slowly pulling out the remaining feathers from her back, now shining bright red, and stripping down to a thong and black electrical-tape X’s on her nipples. Back stage afterward while one leg would shake uncontrollably as a stagehand would snap photos of battle wounds, the naked girl would say over her shoulder that this was easier than dancing burlesque.
Edit made 9-22-08: The brilliant photo above was taken by Mr. Nightshade, AKA The Blight, and you can see more of his work here. He makes it seem so easy. The “stagehand” was not in reference to Mr. Nightshade. If I knew who it was who snapped photos of the performer backstage (again, this was not Mr. Nightshade at this time), I would have used his actual name. If “stagehand” connotes something less than worthy, then disregard, as everyone involved was eccentrically awe-inspiring.
The next time you find yourself feeling negative, take a few minutes to watch this video where Mr. Rogers, America’s Favorite Neighbor, implores “hatchetman” Senator John Pastore to stop budget cuts for public broadcasting so that he can continue his “expression of care” for children. Touched, Pastore raised the budget by millions of dollars. Who would have thought that Mr. Rogers could touch people well beyond their youth?
“You’ve made this day a special day, by just your being you. There’s no person in the whole world like you, and I like you just the way you are.”
- Mr. Fred Rogers (1928-2003)
Meandering through blogland, I discovered a contemporary blogger whose self promotion is featured in the upcoming August issue of WIRED magazine. Literally, she’s going to be on the cover.
It took little probing to discover several online writers who seem to have no problem taking the time to let the world know their various opinions of her. Gawker doesn’t like her. Some Georgetown journalist alumni don’t like her. Star magazine doesn’t like her, having just last month announced they aren’t renewing their contract with her.
Should this ballsy woman deserve beacon status within the realm of online career advancement? I’ll say yes until I know better. Albeit, the rampant criticisms – with palpable resentment – portray her as an older version of the popular white privileged cheerleader slash student body president in high school who kept friends or romantic partners only if they helped her get places. And I just can’t stand those kind of people. But I’ll do my best to reserve judgment and form my own opinion, aye. Note – I could do without her lip sync vanity videos.
Check out her website – http://julia.nonsociety.com/.
What do you make of her on first impression? Respect her drive? Support it even? Think she’s a good representation of a Modern Day Ishtar?
)… and I did create a twirling group in college to help friends de-stress (quite effective)… but I digress. There’s something about min. 2:35-3:25 from the clip below, taken from the movie Swept from the Sea, that captures the quiet panacea of being entirely cloaked in rain. I’ll say that I relate to the character in a way I’ve never really related to any fictional character on screen. Go figure it’s a girl (played by the beautiful 
If I knew who it was who snapped photos of the performer backstage (again, this was not Mr. Nightshade at this time), I would have used his actual name. If “stagehand” connotes something less than worthy, then disregard, as everyone involved was eccentrically awe-inspiring.
