The Internet is Stupid
I keep a little folder on my desktop that says "Urgent
Projects" and the icon is the Incredible Hulk. (The old
Lou Ferrigno one, not the new computerey one.) In that
folder is another folder marked "Blog" and it's where I
keep links and downloads too stupid to put on my
del.icio.us account. Time to empty out the folder.
First of all was a link I found to gay-specific horoscopes. Nice. Adding an extra layer of bullshit to horoscopes by making them niche. It's basically like pet horoscopes, but more fashionable.
Then there's this horrific banner I found for sugardaddie.com:
Dating for the rich and gorgeous? The space mutant on the right masquerading as a woman better be rich, because if that's gorgeous then I no-wanna. Also, are we supposed to believe that the two photos were taken at the same time with the same camera on the same planet? That's not what happened, I assure you.
And the freak show continues:
I get that you're trying to get my attention. But this guitar-playing demon/SPORE creature, whose magical guitar spouts APR's in a disturbingly fast and poorly looped animated gif is just going to pop out of my nightmare closet at night. It's like someone crossed Dick Van Dyke in his Mary Poppins one-man-band outfit with Jon Lovitz and a booger, then poorly CG rendered it. Bleh.
Let's get political, shall we?
Methinks the FB members doth protest too much. I wasn't so much bothered by the people here who didn't ever want to have to see a gay ad ever, presumably because it provides too much temptation and they'll have to head back to the truck stop bathroom again. I was bothered, however, by the image of Jesus used to shame Facebook into caving to their demands.
Seriously if you don't want to see boobs and wieners, don't even get near the internet. The internet, as allegedly corrupt and unquestionably elderly Alaska Senator Ted Stevens will happily tell you, is a series of boobs. Something like that. And where there are boobs, there are wieners. And where there are wieners there are fans of wieners who need to know about the latest hot wiener-celebratory site. And sometimes those ads might creep onto the pages of g_d-fearing Christians who, when not petting lambs, are wolfing down Big Macs in their Excursions. Revving them up by pumping their Croc-laden-feet because the A/C isn't cooling them down enough. And when you have that much circumference your core temperature is going to be pretty high, like the molten core of Earth.
The good news is when that group reaches 144,000 members they will ascend to heaven leaving the rest of us to watch gay facebook ads as the antichrist unleashes locusts, brimstone, and a bunch of other shit from the horror section in the back of the bible.
That's all for today. Just wanted to pop something in before the end of the week.
Also, there's new Zen (click off the left). Nothing new and nothing special. But a mental pallet cleanser.
Leave some love in the comments.
Huzzah.
First of all was a link I found to gay-specific horoscopes. Nice. Adding an extra layer of bullshit to horoscopes by making them niche. It's basically like pet horoscopes, but more fashionable.
Then there's this horrific banner I found for sugardaddie.com:
Dating for the rich and gorgeous? The space mutant on the right masquerading as a woman better be rich, because if that's gorgeous then I no-wanna. Also, are we supposed to believe that the two photos were taken at the same time with the same camera on the same planet? That's not what happened, I assure you.
And the freak show continues:
I get that you're trying to get my attention. But this guitar-playing demon/SPORE creature, whose magical guitar spouts APR's in a disturbingly fast and poorly looped animated gif is just going to pop out of my nightmare closet at night. It's like someone crossed Dick Van Dyke in his Mary Poppins one-man-band outfit with Jon Lovitz and a booger, then poorly CG rendered it. Bleh.
Let's get political, shall we?
Methinks the FB members doth protest too much. I wasn't so much bothered by the people here who didn't ever want to have to see a gay ad ever, presumably because it provides too much temptation and they'll have to head back to the truck stop bathroom again. I was bothered, however, by the image of Jesus used to shame Facebook into caving to their demands.
Seriously if you don't want to see boobs and wieners, don't even get near the internet. The internet, as allegedly corrupt and unquestionably elderly Alaska Senator Ted Stevens will happily tell you, is a series of boobs. Something like that. And where there are boobs, there are wieners. And where there are wieners there are fans of wieners who need to know about the latest hot wiener-celebratory site. And sometimes those ads might creep onto the pages of g_d-fearing Christians who, when not petting lambs, are wolfing down Big Macs in their Excursions. Revving them up by pumping their Croc-laden-feet because the A/C isn't cooling them down enough. And when you have that much circumference your core temperature is going to be pretty high, like the molten core of Earth.
The good news is when that group reaches 144,000 members they will ascend to heaven leaving the rest of us to watch gay facebook ads as the antichrist unleashes locusts, brimstone, and a bunch of other shit from the horror section in the back of the bible.
That's all for today. Just wanted to pop something in before the end of the week.
Also, there's new Zen (click off the left). Nothing new and nothing special. But a mental pallet cleanser.
Leave some love in the comments.
Huzzah.
|
Double Take: "Brains and Brawn" cliches ahoy
07/08/08 07:16 AM Filed in: Media
Any news story that contains the line "and German
hipsters can't get enough of it," is going to be at
least a little bit weird.
So I get up early this morning and unload the dishwasher while playing the video stream of CNN International because it's one of the few streaming news sources I don't overtly despise and they're like a playskool version of the BBC World News. While my back is turned this story comes on and I assume it's a joke/ad for some weird combo product or some high concept marketing piece from an energy company. But no, it's a real thing, evidently. I give you Chess-Boxing:
(CNN doesn't allow embedding, so I DL'ed it and put it on DailyMotion, probably breaking a gajillion Copyrights, but just FYI it's Copyright 2007 Cable News Network, LLC, LLLP, A Time Warner Company - please don't sue.)
Personally, I think that the whole affair is just "German hipsters" playing a joke on news outlets. Sure the guys are big serious boxers, and yes, they do appear to be playing chess, but come on... Olympic event?
But by golly it does have a Wikipedia page, but does that really mean anything?
So I get up early this morning and unload the dishwasher while playing the video stream of CNN International because it's one of the few streaming news sources I don't overtly despise and they're like a playskool version of the BBC World News. While my back is turned this story comes on and I assume it's a joke/ad for some weird combo product or some high concept marketing piece from an energy company. But no, it's a real thing, evidently. I give you Chess-Boxing:
(CNN doesn't allow embedding, so I DL'ed it and put it on DailyMotion, probably breaking a gajillion Copyrights, but just FYI it's Copyright 2007 Cable News Network, LLC, LLLP, A Time Warner Company - please don't sue.)
Personally, I think that the whole affair is just "German hipsters" playing a joke on news outlets. Sure the guys are big serious boxers, and yes, they do appear to be playing chess, but come on... Olympic event?
But by golly it does have a Wikipedia page, but does that really mean anything?
Out of Print: After Dark pt.2
Sorry to be out of touch for so long, my faithful blog
readers (both of you, yet I'm just delusional enough
not to refer to you by name). As you can see by the
previous post, I misspelled "Eppley." My sincerest
apologies to everyone at Omaha's Eppley Airfield and
anyone else I may have offended. I made it back to
Austin, just barely and without my luggage at midnight.
But a midnight nosh at Katz' Deli got me back in the
Texas swing... so to speak.
On to matters at hand. As promised, here's the second installment in my After Dark series. You can read part one at this link or just scroll down, which would probably be easier. That'll give you all the background you need. If you're just too damned lazy to click or scroll, here's the elevator version: Trolling the North Loop vintage shops I found this stack of hilarious old mid-70's "New York Lifestyle" magazines for men. Which is obviously code for Mag-GAY-zine. I bought a few so I could scan 'em, snark 'em, and provide fodder for my rarely-brilliant, even-more-rarely-read interspace on the webbertube. Let's go!
The time: November 1976
The city: New York
The magazine: After Dark: The National Magazine of Entertainment
The event: DISCO FEVER!
For whatever reason, Editor Bill Como thought that the perfect accompanying graphic to their Disco Fever issue would be Broadway superstar (?) Chita Rivera in full "Cabaret" drag. What do these things have to do with one another, you may ask? Well, so far as I could gather from the issue... nothing. See for yourself:
Those eyelashes! The backlighting! The pancake makeup! Folks, this is the pre-Photoshop world right here. In the era before Photoshop Disasters, there were just plain old in-studio disasters. Run of the mill, but seem strangely refreshing in this over-polished age we live in now.
But if it's the Disco Fever issue, then where's the "dancing dudes?" Oh... right here:
I'm torn on the hotly contentious issue of Disco Fever. I musically came of age in the Disco-backlash 80's. When wearing bellbottoms and shaking one's "groove thing" was considered horribly passé, but tight-rolling one's Z Cavaricci jeans and teasing out one's hair to the New-Ro strains of Adam Ant was acceptable. That said, there are certain elements of disco that I can appreciate: Complex instrumentation, traditional musicianship, danceable beats. But my early memories of "cool" are Dr. Jonny Fever declaring that disco sucked and cranking some Pink Floyd. Isn't there room enough in the world for both? And have things really changed all that much? Can I not have my Andrew W.K. and my Jamiroquai together?
But a better question may be, in regards to the above photo, where did the defined gentleman above keep his keys, and did he take maracas with him wherever he went, or just to the club?
"I just get After Dark to read about great stage and screen artists like Agnes Moorehead... I honestly hadn't even noticed that picture of Greenwich Village Follies."
How many fellas told themselves and their "girlfriends" that tall tale? I shudder to think.
The statement was most likely later followed by hushed conversation over the basement phone to the Gate Theater to see if tickets were available for the coming Friday night.
There was a weird resurgence in Art Deco (referenced again later in this issue) during the late 70's and early 80's. Offering some good and some bad repercussions. Good: practical use of neon and lucite in design, attractive sportcoats, large-scale pattern motifs. Bad: Taco's "Puttin' on the Ritz," mixing too much coral and turquoise within singular designs, the design elements that informed "The Max," the soda shop where the kids from Bayside High would hang out.
This ad screams one idea loud and clear: Disco 76 has NO LADIES NIGHT. You have your choice of two types of guy that hangs out there: skinny pale guy in a tux, and skinny pale guy in a tux with a 'stache. 'Twas the 70's, that much you can be sure of.
Subtle.
The above-mentioned "From Peppermint to Poppers" story. I didn't reprint in full readable quality because... well, why? However I should mention that the story does reference a "soon-to-open club" downtown called Studio 54. My guess is that nothing will come of the place. The accompanying page photo:
And you thought Dirk Diggler was a fictional character. Yet there he is in his booty-shaking glory. I know it's sweat, but the fact that he looks like he mega-wet his pants... kind of a turnoff, actually. I mean some people might find it hot, but... um, no.
Paragons of disco. All aboard the airship BeeGee!
And Isaac Hayes, no matter what your kooky religion tells you to do, in my mind you will always be this scary outer space genie.
Anyone care to guess who the guy on the bottom right is?
Yeah, me either.
What do we have here? Some supergroup comprised of members of The Time and Kid Creole and the Coconuts? Nope. Although the guys on the right both kind of weirdly look like Morris Day. No, what we have here is Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band. Apparently they were hot for about a month in 1976 with a little ditty called Cherchez la Femme. You think I'm joking? Thankfully YouTube will vindicate me.
There's one you never hear on the Jack-Bob-Fred "we play anything" radio formats. Wonder why? Probably because it sucks. They were truly the Cherry Poppin' Daddies of the 70's. (That isn't a compliment.)
And now the answer to the eternal question: are there tan lines in space?
Evidently, yes.
Obviously, this is two pictures haphazardly stuck together. On the left we have what Ursine Historians will come to refer to as a proto-Bear Run. If you don't know what that means, then you probably don't want to look it up. On the right we have what you normally only see once a year on a "pride" parade float in any medium-to-large American city. My question whenever I see anything like this: Did the guy BRING this outfit to the club, or did he WEAR it to the club? Also, where are his car keys? I just assume there must be keys, because I highly doubt he took public transportation in that outfit. Although, it IS New York. Here in Austin, they like to keep it just as weird.
But who was making the music that these sweaty spacemen were shaking their "what-what's" to?
How about a fierce looking Chaka Kahn:
Tell me something good? Okay, how about this: A film vehicle for Chaka Kahn and Pam Grier. They're two sexy assassins who stumble on a sex-slaves-for-cocaine ring. And they bust it up by unleashing a funk-splosion of pain on "the man"? I would SO watch this movie.
So remember above when I mentioned that the 70's had that return to Art Deco 20's opulent design?
Well, meet designer Charles Burke:
Charles was pretty edgy with his retro-futuristic designs. Evoking the 20's with a little 60's mod and Chrome-ified "House of the Future" action. Actually reasonably cool in a very ironic sort of way. But his work as a designer who works well with light (not to be confused with noted lunatic and "painter of light" Thomas Kinkade) got him some pretty fab acclaim back in the day.
Why he even got to hang with noted celebrities:
In case you missed, I noted where Charles Burke was rubbing elbows with the pre-Knight Rider Hoff.
Above that, my fellow nerds will recognize the light communicator-thing from Logan's Run. Although it's in like 30 seconds of the movie.
Amazingly, Burke's style mellowed a bit, and he's still designing. In fact, he was recently featured in Connecticut Cottages & Gardens. A far cry from After Dark, to be sure.
Now more fashion! Or should I say "fashion":
"Does this quilted pantsuit make me look gay?"
"No, of course not. Maybe the tambourine you're carrying does, though."
If you've ever heard the term "gay face," you now have a prime example.
Seriously, what the hell is even happening here? Was there ever actually a prevailing belief that there would ever be a "jumpsuit chic" movement?
Really? REALLY!?!
But wait...
We see here gayface in a velour... um robe-suit-type-thing. With a white silk cravat, lest you think this isn't dressy enough, accompanying a Debbie Harry wannabe wearing a garbage bag and, inexplicably, pantyhose with open-toe shoes.
Also whatever happened to the eyewear fashion movement that said sunglasses of the future would be made from silver casts of leprechaun protective cups?
I guess this harkens back to the earlier Logan's Run reference, where people of the fashionista-70's were preparing to wear jumpsuits and live in a mall. To an extent, that is sort of what happened.
Think the ironic t-shirt was the domain of the internet-ordering90's, er 00's?
Oh, no, kids.
From left to right, in case you can't read it:
Spank you very much
Empire Diner
SCAT (um... ew. -ed.)
All That Jazz
Gotta Sing Gotta Dance
Our Feature is Full Length and Uncut
Baby Beef Cakes
Basic Training
If someone, ANYONE, approaches you in a bar with a "SCAT" t-shirt on - unless you hear them saying "skib-illy-hoob-illy-doob-illy-bop!" - run like hell.
Who wears short shorts? Even these guys seem surprised as to how scandalously tight their shorts are. Seriously. It looks like their crotches were vacuum packed for freshness. Ironically, wearing them all night at a smoky dance bar, it will be ANYTHING but fresh in there.
When you think of the 70's, what new age conceits come to mind? Pyramid Power? sure. EST? yeah, that too. But let's not forget about the all-important Amulet/Talisman. Something to dangle among your chest pubes and show how deep you are. That Egyptian scarab says something about you: It says you wore a jacket without a shirt and your pants are coming off. The 1970's were not known for their subtelty.
So it's the post-sexual revolution 70's. Post Stonewall, etc., and men are starting to cut loose the 50's short hair and tie to the office mentality. And of course some of them are getting their ear pierced. Like tattoos and sleeveless t-shirts, the number of men who wear this look is disproportionately larger than the number of men who can pull off this look. For those who really want to "gay-up" their ear jewelry, there's these casts of people that you will have to explain who they are to whoever gets close enough/drunk enough/is stupid enough to ask.
Now THAT'S what I call an amulet (or talisMAN - wokka wokka). It's a guy pointing to his junk. Hilarious. Again, the subtlety of the 70's.
And dare you wear a man-thong? Most should not.I implore you, MOST. SHOULD. NOT.
Oh, you think Borat came up with the over-the-shoulder-thong chic? No-no, my dear readers. That "sex-sational" look has been around for a regrettably long time. I'm glad they found a guy with all the sex appeal of John Stossel to model them. Gah.
Remember the ad in the last After Dark for the Poop Deck? AMAZINGLY, nobody let them in on the joke and it was still open in '76, "catering" to a very unspecific "lifestyle" - which apparently has something to do with two guys staring intently at their own handshake on the beach.
A blogger people actually read (Joe.My.God) did a piece on the Marlin Beach Hotel that you should read here. Brill, as usual.
Looks like the building is still sort of there, although whatever it is now... hard to say.
International Male, purveyors of the poet shirt, a plethora of banana hammocks, and sporting the same photo of the swarthy "hot" guy in leather pants standing next to his motorcycle that they've been running for like 25 years. Oh yes, they were in business in '76, and business was good. It's nice to know that while gay hustler clothes may have changed (um... sort of) over time, at least the gay hustler clothiers have not.
In fairness, International Male has tried to update their image, and in retail business circles they made a pretty public gambit to bring fashion conscious straight guys back into the fold, but without seeing their numbers I'm going to guess it was with limited success. I'm still scratching my head why these guys didn't title sponsor Queer Eye. That could've done the trick. Hey, IM, if you're hiring a marketing guy call me!
What does a pair of Gainsborough's Blue Boy cufflinks say about you? That you appreciate irony?
There's so many ways to be a fancy lad here, I shudder to think. Somewhere in Minneapolis an entrepreneur said, "What's something I can market that is recognizable but nobody owns the copyright to?" while he was flipping through a coffee table "Introduction to Museum Art" book, and BINGO! This great idea was born.
(Not affiliated with blueboy magazine.) Which is pretty much exactly what you think it is. Gotta love old-timey disclaimers.
Finally, we've almost reached the end. And it's a doozy:
Edible Underwear.
Ed-i-ble-un-der-wear. Does any part of this even make sense?
Oh sure, it inspired one of my favorite songs:
(Which is available on iTunes, where I bought my own copy.)
But why would you wear a fruit roll up on a part of your body that is NOTORIOUS for heat generation? I'm all for fetish-ey behavior, and kinks and the whole nine yards, but with these how do you not just end up with "pants full o' jelly"? Even if you do just put these on for some bedroom fun time, wouldn't one ill-timed Dutch Oven ruin the moment (and more importantly the flavor) for every one involved? I'm gonna say yes.
And yes, penis pillows are a great novelty, but where do you put them the other REST OF YOUR LIFE WHEN YOU'RE NOT AT A BRIDAL SHOWER?
Oh and that big black man is, in fact, wearing a full body fishnet Freddy Mercury unitard-thing. And you can totally see his junk. I'm not sure what the practical applications are for this look, but feel free to postulate in the comments section below.
There you go, kids. A HUGE-NORMOUS post from After Dark. Again, sorry it took me so long, but I put this together in my free time over a couple weeks. So worth it, don't you think?
Me either.
Oh well, leave some love in the comments and I promise a shorter, more concise, and possibly even funny post next time.
Huzzah.
On to matters at hand. As promised, here's the second installment in my After Dark series. You can read part one at this link or just scroll down, which would probably be easier. That'll give you all the background you need. If you're just too damned lazy to click or scroll, here's the elevator version: Trolling the North Loop vintage shops I found this stack of hilarious old mid-70's "New York Lifestyle" magazines for men. Which is obviously code for Mag-GAY-zine. I bought a few so I could scan 'em, snark 'em, and provide fodder for my rarely-brilliant, even-more-rarely-read interspace on the webbertube. Let's go!
The time: November 1976
The city: New York
The magazine: After Dark: The National Magazine of Entertainment
The event: DISCO FEVER!
For whatever reason, Editor Bill Como thought that the perfect accompanying graphic to their Disco Fever issue would be Broadway superstar (?) Chita Rivera in full "Cabaret" drag. What do these things have to do with one another, you may ask? Well, so far as I could gather from the issue... nothing. See for yourself:
Those eyelashes! The backlighting! The pancake makeup! Folks, this is the pre-Photoshop world right here. In the era before Photoshop Disasters, there were just plain old in-studio disasters. Run of the mill, but seem strangely refreshing in this over-polished age we live in now.
But if it's the Disco Fever issue, then where's the "dancing dudes?" Oh... right here:
I'm torn on the hotly contentious issue of Disco Fever. I musically came of age in the Disco-backlash 80's. When wearing bellbottoms and shaking one's "groove thing" was considered horribly passé, but tight-rolling one's Z Cavaricci jeans and teasing out one's hair to the New-Ro strains of Adam Ant was acceptable. That said, there are certain elements of disco that I can appreciate: Complex instrumentation, traditional musicianship, danceable beats. But my early memories of "cool" are Dr. Jonny Fever declaring that disco sucked and cranking some Pink Floyd. Isn't there room enough in the world for both? And have things really changed all that much? Can I not have my Andrew W.K. and my Jamiroquai together?
But a better question may be, in regards to the above photo, where did the defined gentleman above keep his keys, and did he take maracas with him wherever he went, or just to the club?
"I just get After Dark to read about great stage and screen artists like Agnes Moorehead... I honestly hadn't even noticed that picture of Greenwich Village Follies."
How many fellas told themselves and their "girlfriends" that tall tale? I shudder to think.
The statement was most likely later followed by hushed conversation over the basement phone to the Gate Theater to see if tickets were available for the coming Friday night.
There was a weird resurgence in Art Deco (referenced again later in this issue) during the late 70's and early 80's. Offering some good and some bad repercussions. Good: practical use of neon and lucite in design, attractive sportcoats, large-scale pattern motifs. Bad: Taco's "Puttin' on the Ritz," mixing too much coral and turquoise within singular designs, the design elements that informed "The Max," the soda shop where the kids from Bayside High would hang out.
This ad screams one idea loud and clear: Disco 76 has NO LADIES NIGHT. You have your choice of two types of guy that hangs out there: skinny pale guy in a tux, and skinny pale guy in a tux with a 'stache. 'Twas the 70's, that much you can be sure of.
Subtle.
The above-mentioned "From Peppermint to Poppers" story. I didn't reprint in full readable quality because... well, why? However I should mention that the story does reference a "soon-to-open club" downtown called Studio 54. My guess is that nothing will come of the place. The accompanying page photo:
And you thought Dirk Diggler was a fictional character. Yet there he is in his booty-shaking glory. I know it's sweat, but the fact that he looks like he mega-wet his pants... kind of a turnoff, actually. I mean some people might find it hot, but... um, no.
Paragons of disco. All aboard the airship BeeGee!
And Isaac Hayes, no matter what your kooky religion tells you to do, in my mind you will always be this scary outer space genie.
Anyone care to guess who the guy on the bottom right is?
Yeah, me either.
What do we have here? Some supergroup comprised of members of The Time and Kid Creole and the Coconuts? Nope. Although the guys on the right both kind of weirdly look like Morris Day. No, what we have here is Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band. Apparently they were hot for about a month in 1976 with a little ditty called Cherchez la Femme. You think I'm joking? Thankfully YouTube will vindicate me.
There's one you never hear on the Jack-Bob-Fred "we play anything" radio formats. Wonder why? Probably because it sucks. They were truly the Cherry Poppin' Daddies of the 70's. (That isn't a compliment.)
And now the answer to the eternal question: are there tan lines in space?
Evidently, yes.
Obviously, this is two pictures haphazardly stuck together. On the left we have what Ursine Historians will come to refer to as a proto-Bear Run. If you don't know what that means, then you probably don't want to look it up. On the right we have what you normally only see once a year on a "pride" parade float in any medium-to-large American city. My question whenever I see anything like this: Did the guy BRING this outfit to the club, or did he WEAR it to the club? Also, where are his car keys? I just assume there must be keys, because I highly doubt he took public transportation in that outfit. Although, it IS New York. Here in Austin, they like to keep it just as weird.
But who was making the music that these sweaty spacemen were shaking their "what-what's" to?
How about a fierce looking Chaka Kahn:
Tell me something good? Okay, how about this: A film vehicle for Chaka Kahn and Pam Grier. They're two sexy assassins who stumble on a sex-slaves-for-cocaine ring. And they bust it up by unleashing a funk-splosion of pain on "the man"? I would SO watch this movie.
So remember above when I mentioned that the 70's had that return to Art Deco 20's opulent design?
Well, meet designer Charles Burke:
Charles was pretty edgy with his retro-futuristic designs. Evoking the 20's with a little 60's mod and Chrome-ified "House of the Future" action. Actually reasonably cool in a very ironic sort of way. But his work as a designer who works well with light (not to be confused with noted lunatic and "painter of light" Thomas Kinkade) got him some pretty fab acclaim back in the day.
Why he even got to hang with noted celebrities:
In case you missed, I noted where Charles Burke was rubbing elbows with the pre-Knight Rider Hoff.
Above that, my fellow nerds will recognize the light communicator-thing from Logan's Run. Although it's in like 30 seconds of the movie.
Amazingly, Burke's style mellowed a bit, and he's still designing. In fact, he was recently featured in Connecticut Cottages & Gardens. A far cry from After Dark, to be sure.
Now more fashion! Or should I say "fashion":
"Does this quilted pantsuit make me look gay?"
"No, of course not. Maybe the tambourine you're carrying does, though."
If you've ever heard the term "gay face," you now have a prime example.
Seriously, what the hell is even happening here? Was there ever actually a prevailing belief that there would ever be a "jumpsuit chic" movement?
Really? REALLY!?!
But wait...
We see here gayface in a velour... um robe-suit-type-thing. With a white silk cravat, lest you think this isn't dressy enough, accompanying a Debbie Harry wannabe wearing a garbage bag and, inexplicably, pantyhose with open-toe shoes.
Also whatever happened to the eyewear fashion movement that said sunglasses of the future would be made from silver casts of leprechaun protective cups?
I guess this harkens back to the earlier Logan's Run reference, where people of the fashionista-70's were preparing to wear jumpsuits and live in a mall. To an extent, that is sort of what happened.
Think the ironic t-shirt was the domain of the internet-ordering
Oh, no, kids.
From left to right, in case you can't read it:
Spank you very much
Empire Diner
SCAT (um... ew. -ed.)
All That Jazz
Gotta Sing Gotta Dance
Our Feature is Full Length and Uncut
Baby Beef Cakes
Basic Training
If someone, ANYONE, approaches you in a bar with a "SCAT" t-shirt on - unless you hear them saying "skib-illy-hoob-illy-doob-illy-bop!" - run like hell.
Who wears short shorts? Even these guys seem surprised as to how scandalously tight their shorts are. Seriously. It looks like their crotches were vacuum packed for freshness. Ironically, wearing them all night at a smoky dance bar, it will be ANYTHING but fresh in there.
When you think of the 70's, what new age conceits come to mind? Pyramid Power? sure. EST? yeah, that too. But let's not forget about the all-important Amulet/Talisman. Something to dangle among your chest pubes and show how deep you are. That Egyptian scarab says something about you: It says you wore a jacket without a shirt and your pants are coming off. The 1970's were not known for their subtelty.
So it's the post-sexual revolution 70's. Post Stonewall, etc., and men are starting to cut loose the 50's short hair and tie to the office mentality. And of course some of them are getting their ear pierced. Like tattoos and sleeveless t-shirts, the number of men who wear this look is disproportionately larger than the number of men who can pull off this look. For those who really want to "gay-up" their ear jewelry, there's these casts of people that you will have to explain who they are to whoever gets close enough/drunk enough/is stupid enough to ask.
Now THAT'S what I call an amulet (or talisMAN - wokka wokka). It's a guy pointing to his junk. Hilarious. Again, the subtlety of the 70's.
And dare you wear a man-thong? Most should not.I implore you, MOST. SHOULD. NOT.
Oh, you think Borat came up with the over-the-shoulder-thong chic? No-no, my dear readers. That "sex-sational" look has been around for a regrettably long time. I'm glad they found a guy with all the sex appeal of John Stossel to model them. Gah.
Remember the ad in the last After Dark for the Poop Deck? AMAZINGLY, nobody let them in on the joke and it was still open in '76, "catering" to a very unspecific "lifestyle" - which apparently has something to do with two guys staring intently at their own handshake on the beach.
A blogger people actually read (Joe.My.God) did a piece on the Marlin Beach Hotel that you should read here. Brill, as usual.
Looks like the building is still sort of there, although whatever it is now... hard to say.
International Male, purveyors of the poet shirt, a plethora of banana hammocks, and sporting the same photo of the swarthy "hot" guy in leather pants standing next to his motorcycle that they've been running for like 25 years. Oh yes, they were in business in '76, and business was good. It's nice to know that while gay hustler clothes may have changed (um... sort of) over time, at least the gay hustler clothiers have not.
In fairness, International Male has tried to update their image, and in retail business circles they made a pretty public gambit to bring fashion conscious straight guys back into the fold, but without seeing their numbers I'm going to guess it was with limited success. I'm still scratching my head why these guys didn't title sponsor Queer Eye. That could've done the trick. Hey, IM, if you're hiring a marketing guy call me!
What does a pair of Gainsborough's Blue Boy cufflinks say about you? That you appreciate irony?
There's so many ways to be a fancy lad here, I shudder to think. Somewhere in Minneapolis an entrepreneur said, "What's something I can market that is recognizable but nobody owns the copyright to?" while he was flipping through a coffee table "Introduction to Museum Art" book, and BINGO! This great idea was born.
(Not affiliated with blueboy magazine.) Which is pretty much exactly what you think it is. Gotta love old-timey disclaimers.
Finally, we've almost reached the end. And it's a doozy:
Edible Underwear.
Ed-i-ble-un-der-wear. Does any part of this even make sense?
Oh sure, it inspired one of my favorite songs:
(Which is available on iTunes, where I bought my own copy.)
But why would you wear a fruit roll up on a part of your body that is NOTORIOUS for heat generation? I'm all for fetish-ey behavior, and kinks and the whole nine yards, but with these how do you not just end up with "pants full o' jelly"? Even if you do just put these on for some bedroom fun time, wouldn't one ill-timed Dutch Oven ruin the moment (and more importantly the flavor) for every one involved? I'm gonna say yes.
And yes, penis pillows are a great novelty, but where do you put them the other REST OF YOUR LIFE WHEN YOU'RE NOT AT A BRIDAL SHOWER?
Oh and that big black man is, in fact, wearing a full body fishnet Freddy Mercury unitard-thing. And you can totally see his junk. I'm not sure what the practical applications are for this look, but feel free to postulate in the comments section below.
There you go, kids. A HUGE-NORMOUS post from After Dark. Again, sorry it took me so long, but I put this together in my free time over a couple weeks. So worth it, don't you think?
Me either.
Oh well, leave some love in the comments and I promise a shorter, more concise, and possibly even funny post next time.
Huzzah.