Saturday, February 12, 2011

'Opulence. You own everything. Everything is yours.'

This blog post is a line taken from the documentary Paris is Burning and you can see the line in all its opulence here. I like to remember this line when I write because I feel like it’s a great thing to write like I just own everything. And when I've written something phenomenally fail, which happens a lot, I still give myself one of those diva pats on the cheek because it's like whatever bitches, at least when I wrote it, I owned everything. 

Natural segue into RuPaul


I feel like this season is just not delivering as many amazing lines as the other seasons. I could barely keep track of the amazing lines during Season 2 and Season 1 gave us that one epic line 'I don't see you walking children in nature' which sort of wins everything. Anyway. Fav lines from this ‘sode. 

Girl! My tuck!

We're giving fierce, jazzercise realness

Kate Gosselin, she learned this and then she loaned me this hair.

1, 2, 3, 4, I don't want that whore no more

What the hell is she thinking? You can't be lifting up drag queens!
(k- Fur realz, wtf? this is not WWF! This is not The Rape of the Sabine Women! You are not carrying drunk girls home! Wtf?)


Two neat things. One, Mubarak finally said ‘Well, FINE! I’m GOING!’ and went. Isn't that nice? Two, Daisy Rockwell at Bookslut did a nice write-up of some Blaft books including onenumber book that I wrote also. Which is rad.

Two fuckwitted things. Now the thing is, I can’t decide which one is the Great Big Awesome Winner of Fuckwit. So I thought I’d do a little contest type thing for myself and by myself and then decide accordingly. Let's do this Clue-style, shall we?


The salient features of this incident are as follows.

Amar Singh went to visit rape survivors.
(k- ok.)

A press conference was held.
(k- ok.)

At said press conference he took his pants off to show the “wounds” he got from not traveling by luxury buses.
(k- ok. Wait, what?)

I don’t really know what to say. It’s like some weird dream someone tells you about, you know? ‘And I dreamt Amar Singh was visiting rape survivors and there was this press conference and then he started taking off his pants-’. And that’s where you say ‘ok you can’t tell me about your weird dream anymore’.

Anyway, clearly the one thing that rape survivors need is a politician coming to visit them and then taking his pants off at a press conference and showing everyone his “wounds”. The only thing that hasn’t happened here is said politician declaring said “wounds” to be stigmata.

 2. Jacques Testard at the Jaipur Literary Festival with the Slumdogs 

Some of the salient features of this have been culled directly from the article and are featured here, completely out of context, which is like so mean you guys but whatever, this is my blog. But you are encouraged to view them in the beauty of their natural surroundings as well. Also this is just about the phust installment. I was instructed to stay tuned for the second installment, which I understand is up now but it behooved me to politely decline said offer because I am young and I want to live. So if second installment is awesome, that's awesome. This is about phust installment, which is brimming with Hindoos and lepers and cows and toilet issues! Now there’s something no one’s ever written about before! Here we go!

“Our driver is a Hindu; Ganesh stickers adorn his windscreen.”

(k –Doesn’t everyone just do this all the time? Like when you’re in Chicago or Vancouver, don’t you just go to the cab driver, hey muchacho, I see you have no stickers on your windscreen at all. You must be an atheist! Anyway, this comes near the beginning and it’s God’s way of telling you this is not going to go well and you should stop reading right now)

“…crouching lepers and stray cows”

(k- I mention this only because it will be the follow up to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. FYI. You saw it here phust)

“The mild January weather tempers the overwhelming olfactory experience that is India.”

(k- Can someone tell me what it means if India smells normal to me and I live in India and I totally don’t get this ‘overwhelming olfactory experience that is India’? Does this mean I’m actually living somewhere else? Does anyone know where I am? Can someone come and find me?)


“I’m looking for David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. The girl at the till has not heard of it."

(k- it’s always very precious when the natives don’t know what you’re talking about, no? It’s one of the many things that makes me precious because I don’t know who David Foster Wallace is either. Who dat? I thought he was a piano playing dude but apparently that’s David Foster, which is a different man entirely. I made the same mistake with Victor Borga and Borges. I don’t know why I keep thinking certain writers are piano players)

“He worships Rama and Hanuman, the Monkey God who can change his size at will. In the Ramayana, Hanuman grows into a giant monkey and hops from south India to Lanka in search of Rama’s wife, Sita, who was kidnapped by the evil king Ravana. Most of these deities are blue. Christianity pales by comparison.”

(k- I’m not kidding. He actually wrote that. And then The Paris Review published it. Is it just me or does it sound eerily like Mrs. Mortimer? Maybe we should all be happy that writing in 2011 is similar to children’s books written by bigots in the 1800s)

“I’m determined to get through this book tonight. Testard, my surname, is French Provençal dialect for stubborn. I am not a practicing Jain.”

(k- I’m determined to get through this article without vomiting. Manickavel, my surname, is Tamil for Manickavel. I am not a banana. What the fuck? Am I on drugs? What is this? Why am I reading this? Why do I keep doing this to myself?)

-The hijras are eunuchs who live in marginalized communities and make a living from dancing and casting spells on credulous Indians. They also show up whenever there is a wedding, a birth, a death—any major family event—and demand money. If you refuse, they get naked and cast a spell on you. -

(k- The ExoticaSplaining Dude lives in other countries and makes a living from casting spells on credulous people by writing exotically about exotic stuff in exotic third world exotic countries. They also show up whenever there is a slum thang happening, a natural disaster, a literary festival- preferably any major third world event that involves poor peepal tho- and demand that you listen to them because they are the ExoticaSplaining Dude. If you refuse, they get naked and cast a spell on you. Actually they don’t but wouldn’t it be funny if they did? They should totes do that. Also, knicker please. As if the hijras didn't have enough issues to deal with. I mean why not just say they are casting these spells because they are magical vampires who beat up old people and steal the livers of newborn children also?)

Mrs. Mortimer wrote about all sorts of Far Away lands without actually going anywhere. And while I don't doubt that the illustrious Mr.Testard actually made it to our awesome shores, I couldn't help but think that it would be really easy to pull a Mrs. Mortimer with this one. After all, there is a lot of info on the JLF online. Add a few cows, lepers, a purple sari, Hindoo Gawds, hijras, reference to Indian friend who is related to people who live in India, throw in some pics from teh internetz (i noticed one pic was lifted from wiki, not a crime but whatever) and there you go- it’s like someone’s vacation blog from 2004. And now, after all that whining, can you offer us an alternative, you whiny third world colored person? Why yes! Yes I can! I personally liked this excellent write up very much but perhaps it sorta fails because it doesn't have enough cows and lepers in it. Oh whale.

And now, I have come to my decision.

Jacques Testard at the Jaipur Literary Festival with the Slumdogs-  Despite having many salient features and providing the odd guffaw, I'm afraid we couldn’t find anything unique or memorable that we haven’t seen a kajillion times before and won’t see a kajillion more times in the future. If you had held a press conference and taken off your pants, we may have thought differently. Unfortunately, you didn't.

Amar Singh At The Press Conference With His Pants Off, Showing His “Wounds”- For sheer wtfness that worked on numerous levels and was memorable in the way that we cannot ever unknow and we really don’t want to hear or see ever again, you win. Congratulations, you are the Great Big Awesome Winner of Fuckwit.

Gentlemen, we thank you both. Without these awesome displays of fuckwittery, I would have had nothing to blog about.


And now, here is a Leiomy Maldonado Vs Kassandra Ebony vogue battle where Leiomy does this INSANE matrix dip and it’s like…there are no words. INSANE!

okbai.

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