2020’s Democratic presidential primary has boiled down to one vital question. No, not what candidate you’re going to vote for. No, not who is most likely to beat our next best daytime TV talk show host president. No, not whose policies would be the best direction for our country, especially since whoever wins will inherit … Continue reading
Phew, I don’t know about you, dearest Filthy Dreams readers, but I haven’t been able to tear myself away from watching seemingly every major literary and theoretical academic showing their ass at once, defending Professor Avital Ronell since the original New York Times article last week exposed former student Nimrod Reitman’s Title IX case against … Continue reading
“I’m a man learning how to be a man’s man man,” growls Casey Spooner, finishing off the sleazy club anthem “Everything Is Just Alright,” which began with the description, “I smell the smoke, I smell the piss, I smell the anger,” an apparent reference to Nowhere Bar (I can attest–it fits). While a deceptively short … Continue reading
When I was eight years old, I wanted to be Tonya Harding. Well, at least momentarily. Playing outside on a particularly frozen day in 1994, I pretended to be figure skaters with a friend. Did I want to be Nancy Kerrigan with her perfect brunette ponytail, Vera Wang-designed white costumes and sophisticated poise? Hell no. … Continue reading
Walking through Anton Kern Gallery’s exclamatory (and inflammatory) current exhibition Drawings By Mike!, I had to stop myself from sighing like Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter, “Oh ROCKY!” That urged bubbled up from deep within while viewing drawing after drawing of impossibly tanned, blonde and muscular figures scattered on the walls of the gallery’s chic 55th Street space, which gave its top floor over to deliciously lurid trash. Continue reading
Home can reveal so much about a person. Yes, this is an obvious cliché, but an individual’s architectural and interior design sensibilities–not to mention their cornucopia of tacky knick-knacks scattered around their existence–speaks volumes. This truism relates perhaps even more to queer individuals. Since, at the very least, the Decadents at the turn of the … Continue reading
Well, it’s been quite a fucking week hasn’t it, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! I feel hungover, terrified and slightly amused. And we’ve only got one week down of our Dear Leader Donald J. Trump. Man, it’s going to be a long four years. And the art world isn’t helping. I find most of the art world’s responses to … Continue reading
In 1977, Richard Hell appeared on the cover of his seminal album Blank Generation with the words “You Make Me______.” scrawled on his bony chest. While the term blank generation certainly resonated with the post-Vietnam, bankrupt New York of the 1970s, they had nothing on the blankness of our digitally obsessed 21st century. In fact, it … Continue reading
What is so bad about kitsch? Well, other than bad taste of course. Kitsch–the label for all things gaudy, glittering and garish made for those who were born to be cheap–seems to be one descriptor that not even those devoted denizens of camp will proudly and loudly declare. But, who doesn’t love a touch of … Continue reading