“Without obsession, life is nothing.” Sure, it was our Queer Confucius John Waters who supposedly uttered this maxim, but this guiding artistic sentiment perhaps applies even more accurately to Waters’ “gutter film” predecessor, the notorious Ed Wood Jr. In his illuminating recent book Ed Wood: Made in Hollywood USA (via OR Books), Will Sloan interrogates … Continue reading
Jayne Mansfield was the ultimate sex kitten-gone-berserk, the eternal starlet grasping for fame with both hands, Kenneth Anger’s cooing, squealing Hollywood Babylon made flesh. What, one might justifiably wonder, must it have been like having this outrageous creature for a mother? Considering she was only three years old when Mansfield died in her gruesome 1967 … Continue reading
Emergency!!! Menergy!!!! As of 3:00 p.m. EST, like you, we here at Filthy Dreams were inundated by sudden and immediate gay thirst traps from the suspected UnitedHealth CEO shooter. Double-takes turned into triple-takes as details emerged: nabbed at a McDonald’s?? Carrying a pocket manifesto?? A twink?! Being an online troll?? Time for an EMERGENCY Filthy … Continue reading
I wanna tell you about a girl… Ok, I had to. How else to start a tribute to Anita Lane, the enigmatic singer and songwriter with the otherworldly energy of a haunted Victorian doll and a quaalude-soaked childlike voice to match, other than a reference to the opening line of the song “From Her To … Continue reading
I wasn’t prepared to hear John Waters speak in tongues. I’m not sure why. What is there left to do after over fifty years of spreading the sordid slime of good bad taste around the globe than falling to your knees where your role model’s testicles were crushed before he was mowed over repeatedly with … Continue reading
In Netflix’s Pretend It’s a City, our ornery idol and filth elder Fran Lebowitz says, “The anger is, I have no power, yet I’m filled with opinions.” Not only relatable, but accurate as well. Since Fran wouldn’t want us to hold back in our own opinions about Martin Scorcese’s Fran-centric docuseries, your ever-faithful Jessica Caroline … Continue reading
What are your memories of Christmas, dearest Filthy Dreams merrymakers? Is it an enormous, lush pine filling your spacious living room covered in lights, baubles, and vintage ornaments like a Fifth Avenue window display? Or is it a cactus hung with the earrings you forgot to pawn? Do you remember festive and fabulous holiday parties, … Continue reading
In the gleefully artificial disco haze of 1977, our role model Amanda Lear deadpan announced that she was a photograph. “I am a glossy photograph,” she coos in her song “I Am A Photograph. “Of course I am a bit retouched and my color has been processed.” Over forty years later, Grimes–otherwise known as Claire Boucher, otherwise known as c, renamed by her billionaire beau Elon Musk for the symbol for the speed of light, otherwise known as another one of my maniacal obsessions–became a hologram. Continue reading
Dear Lana, forgive us our sins. Dear Lana, forgive us our sins…Wait…what’s that? Oh, I was just praying to our lord, savior, national anthem and blessed mother Lana Del Rey. If you’re not praying to your idols, then how are you expected to get anything out of life? Certainly even Jesus could recognize the cleansing … Continue reading
Dearest Filthy Dreams readers, I’m coming out…as a Kunt. Yes, with a K not a C (though that word has also been lobbed at me. I’ll accept it). But today, I want to come out of the soap door as a member of the Kunt Brigade, those rabid fans of the underrated and under-appreciated rapper, … Continue reading