DOC U...Haskell Wexler & James Longley appear @ IDA Panel Discussion! Hollywood!

Doc U focuses on filmmakers!

In the wake of innovative new technological advances (where cameras are cooler, niftier, and more flexible in nature) - and in view of a proliferation of in-your-face reality-based shows on TV  touting gladiator-style entertainment programming - the role of the documentary filmmaker is being held up to closer scrutiny.

With that scenario unfolding in mind, three high-profile filmmakers were invited to attend a panel discussion last night at DOC U (under the auspices of the International Documentary Association) in Hollywood at the Silent Film Theatre on Fairfax Avenue to discuss the boundaries of the medium - if any - that exist today in an atmosphere where there appears to an "anything goes" or "take no prisoners" mentality.

The three panelists - at the top of their game right now (and as different as night and day in their approach to their scintillating projects) - openly discussed their roles with the aim of shedding some light on the kind of dilemmas that filmmakers face today.

Richard Pearce moderated the event as part of a DOC U series sponsored by ida (International Documentary Association).

In the old-world charm of the Silent Film Theatre (where publicity stills of Hollywood legends graced the dusty walls), Joan Churchill ("Dixie Chicks: Shut up and Sing"; "Role of a Serial Killer", "American Family"); Haskell Wexler ("Medium Cool", "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf") and James Longley ("Irag in Fragments") succeeded in rustling up a riveting cinematic event that ended up being upbeat, thought-provoking and inspiring to the packed house comprised mostly of aspiring young filmmakers interested in pursuing a mainstream career in documentary filmmaking.

When asked what were some of the ethical problems that documentary filmmakers faced today on the fast-shifting film terrain that has literally transformed the industry, the discussion became a lively informative debate.

For example, Ms. Churchill underscored that it was important to be "inside the circle" - and not outside of it - for a project to succeed.

After all, cementing a trust between filmmaker and subject is of paramount importance in the overall scheme of things.

The low-key down-to-earth filmmaker gave an example.

One day, an unexpected tragedy caused Churchill to shoot a handful of intimate personal scenes - that were highly sensitive, in nature - in respect to a subject featured in her documentary.

Instead of swooping down like a vulture - in pursuit of her prey - Churchill was prompted to act ethically instead.

Once the shy soft-spoken director captured the unexpected turn-of-events on film, she turned the footage over to her subject, and left the matter in her hands.

Whether the footage would be included in the documentary would rest on a decision made by the young lady involved - not the director - Joan Churchill.

In this way, the filmmaker managed to establish a rapport with the individual after-the-fact - and ultimately - gained the woman's trust and respect.

In the end scenario, Churchill was given permission to use the thought-provoking material, which was not surprising in view of the way the filmmaker handled the issue.

In one hilarious moment, out-of-the-blue, Mr. Haskell took the mic and shouted out.

"What am I doing here?  What am I doing here?"

At first, audience members thought the legendary filmmaker was having a senior moment.

However, when Haskell continued, his message - which came across a little off-the-wall a few seconds earlier - ending up ringing crystal clear.

"As a filmmaker, I have to ask. What am I doing here?  What am I trying to accomplish?"

Then, there was the issue of putting creativity - and the artist's vision - on the line.

What sacrifices must be made, if any?

When John Longley's clip - "Iraq in Fragments" - was previewed last night, it was evident that he took risks - personally and professionally - in a nervy bold-faced effort to land his precious footage in the can.

Because of his sensitivity to the subjects - and his keen ability to instinctively tip-toe thorugh a potentially-volatile situation unscathed - he was able to pull a remarkabe coup off.

Film buffs in the audience - myself included - were astounded when the breathtaking stunning images he conjured up on film splashed across the screen with great cinematic style.

Unlike Joan Churchill (who said she didn't care what the film looked like because she was just concerned with the content) Longley's film turned out a remarkable work of art.

Which underscores the obvious.

Documentaries don't have to be boring accounts of mundane subjects thrown together with the express purpose of teaching and/or enlightening the masses.

Indeed, judging from the response of the audience at last night's panel discussion, it is evident that documentary filmmakers are not only breaking exciting new ground in the realm of documentary film, but garnering ia helluva-a-lot of interest to boot!
From the bottom up.

"You don't need a lot of money to make a film if you make it yourself. You just have to pay for your equipment," underscored Joan.

And, it didn't escape my attention, that there were quite a few advantages to working para-military-style with quality hand-held cameras in tow.

After all, the easy-to-use lensers are capable of zooming in, out, and documenting far - out-of-the-way - intimate places that 35 mm cameras can't begin to.

Even the lights can drag a cameraman down and hinder the shooting process as well.

Moderator Richard Pearce ("Hearts and Minds", "Food, Inc.") was a charming inquisitive host who carried off the challenge of fielding questions admirably.

Pearce began his professional career in the late 1960’s as a documentary cameraman.

His early credits as a cinematographer include four Oscar-winning films: Woodstock, Marjoe, Interviews with My Lai Veterans and Hearts and Minds.

Pearce made his feature directorial debut with the period drama "Heartland" which won the Golden Bear at the 1980 Berlin Film Festival and opened the New York Film Festival’s first “Showcase of American Independents.”

Haskell Wexler took home statuettes for his work on Mike Nichols' "Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf" and Hal Ashby's "Bound for Glory".

Wexler has worked with Norman Jewison, George Lucas, Michael Moore, and John Sayles.

He directed two features, Medium Cool and Latino.

I caught a screening of Medium Cool earlier this year in San Francisco which was screened in tandem with a major exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Post: 03/03/10

http://forgusbeylan.blogspot.com/2011/03/san-francisco-museum-of-modern.html

Both films broke the mold of conventional story telling by using the immediacy of documentary-style filmmaking.

Wexler was  the first Cinematographer to every land a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Joan Churchill began her career doing camera work on a series of music films such as "Gimme Shelter" (Rolling Stones), No Nukes (directed by Haskell Wexler), and Barbara Kopple and Hail, Hail Rock and Roll, (directed by Taylor Hackford).

Churchill is probably best-known for her work on the cult series "An American Family "(which broadcast originally on PBS).

Early on in his film career, James Longley was honored for his work by prestigious organizations.

"Portrait of Boy with Dog" was awarded a Student Academy Award® in 1994 by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

He made his first feature documentary "Gaza Strip" in the early months of the second Palestinian uprising.

In 2002, Longley began pre-production work on his second documentary feature "Iraq in Fragments".

The film was awarded jury prizes for Best Documentary Directing, Best Documentary Editing, and Best Documentary Cinematography at the Sundance Film Festival.

"Iraq in Fragments" went on to win the top documentary film awards at major national and international festivals, garnered an Emmy Award nomination for Best Documentary Cinematography, and an Academy Award® nomination for Best Feature Documentary.

After the panel wrapped - film buffs, the press, and invited guests - strolled back to the patio (under a romantic star-lit sky) to sip on wine, snack on delicious crackers and cheese, and chat each other up.

At this point, a couple of revelations overcame me, which are worthy of sharing.

For starters, steer clear of the talent's "handlers" wjhen mixing and minglimg - and, if possible - alight next to the guest star instead.

For example, when I approached Mr. Wexler and asked if he had any thoughts on Elizabeth Taylor (who he worked with on "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" many moons ago) a woman - who stuck like glue to the Director's side all night - pooh-poohed my query.

"That's not an appropriate question here," she snipped at me with a mean edge in her voice.

But, Mr. Wexler turned to me, and was inclined to follow up.

"What did he say," Wexler quizzed his escort pointedly, as he turned up the volume on his hearing aid.

At this juncture, the rude woman relented, and repeated my question to the honored guest.

Surprise!

The talented filmmaker was only too happy to respond.

"The one thing I will say about Elizabeth is this. When I won my Oscar that night, I accepted it in the name of Art and Peace. Later, Elizabeth came over to me, and thanked me for saying that."

Meanwhile, Joan Churchill - who was apparently choking over a whiff of garlic (?) - didn't have much of a personality to warm up to. She practically faded into the wall, that's how much charisma she exhibited backstage.

When I asked what project was on the horizon next, she stared at me blankly.

To lighten up an awkward situation, I persisted.

"Any scoops for me?"

"No scoops for you," she replied, with all the charm of a worm.

Eugh!

On that note, I waved my good-byes, and headed out.

For the most part,  the Doc U event was a dynamic entertaining one.

See 'ya there next month, eh?

http://www.thetattler.biz



Scandals...of the Privileged Few! A Novel by Julian Ayrs! Chapter 6!

 

The sun was a golden orb slipping down the horizon when Sterling started the long trek home.

Caught in a crush of afternoon rush-hour traffic at the 405 Freeway in West Los Angeles, he casually flipped the dial of the radio in search of some classical music to calm his nerves.

Los Angeles drivers are terrors on wheels!

The botanist was completely the opposite on the other hand.

In fact, his friends dreaded the thought of being a passenger while he was at the wheel.

"You drive like an old lady," Frankie noted in frustration one day last fall, as he wiggled in his seat uncomfortably.

"Everyone is passing us."

The unemployed auto worker was clearly humiliated.

True, Sterling was a cautious motorist.

When the Ohio-born only child moved to the big bad orange (his nickname for LA LA LAND) he made a pact with himself not to get caught up in the road rage prevalent on the highways and byways of sunny southern California.

He hung a crucifix on the rear view mirror and made a point of "blessing" his car every time he alighted inside his fire engine red Fiat.

Sterling was very fussy about anyone touching his car. Valet parking? Not on your sweet short life. He rented an apartment off an alley where car jockeys parked upscale vehicles for their chic owners when they trotted off for cocktails and dinner at any one of the trendy watering holes on restaurant row on La Cienega Boulevard.

The way they tore down the dark alleys - with dust and pebbles flying wildly in all directions - convinced him.

No way Jose!

Of course, he wasn't one of those phony show-biz wannabees anxious to be spied by one of the paparazzi from TMZ or Page 6 scrambling for a revealing scoop or photo opportunity.

"I dont' care if I have the right-of-way. If they want to go - I say - let them speed on to their untimely deaths without me."

If someone tailgated him, he simply pulled over to the curb and waved them on.

"Be my guest, road hog," he'd mutter under his breath.

He was improving his Karma, after all, in the grand scheme of things.

Suddenly, a few words of a talk show host which floated across the airwaves on the squawk box, intrigued him.

"H.A.A.R.P. is a scientific research facility located near Gakon in the remote Alaskan outback and is a joint Navy and Air Force project. This facility is used to study the earth's ionosphere, the electrically-charged belt surrounding our planet's upper atmosphere ranging between 40 to 60 miles from its surface."

Because Sterling was essentially a plant doctor, in his opinion flowers and trees - and wildlife in general - vibrated on a level of intelligence man was unfamiliar with.

Years ago, when researchers encouraged plant lovers to talk soothingly to their leafy green mood-boosters around their homes to promote growth, most Americans thought the scientists were off their rockers.

But, legitimate experiments have established since then that plants are not only sensitive, but capable of sensing danger.

For instance, in one controlled lab setting, a tomato plant with ripe fruit was placed on a table with a handful of electrodes attached to a lie detector machine.

When a researcher outside the door of the lab was given instructions to enter and stroll up to the plant and pluck off a tomato, the monitor registered a pronounced reaction on the screen.

The test results established that fear swept over the plant for a moment or two.

And, as soon as the scientist strode into the lab and snatched a tomato off a branch, the plant literally went into shock.

The ramifications were astounding.

Sterling was intrigued about the concept of H.A.A.R.P. for good reason.

According to the disc jockey, H.A.A.R.P was a controversial high frequency radio transmitter also known as an "ionospheric" heater.

On the surface, explanations about the project sounded innocent enough.

The Military has been using the billion-watt pulsed radio beam in the earth's upper atmosphere to create extremely low frequency waves (or ELF waves) with beneficial effects.

"This technology is expected to enhance communications with submarines and allow mankind to see into the Earth and detect anything from oil reserves to underground military targets."

Oh, oh!

An alarm bell went off in Sterling's handsome little head.

If H.A.A.R.P. was being used strictly for humanitarian reasons - to better the daily lives of sentient beings on the planet by curing disease, healing the environment, and forewarning about impending global disasters - wouldn't the project be run by scientists instead of the military?

The applications of the "science" can be traced back to the work of Nikola Tesla, a Yugoslavian Scientist, and his amazing achievements which include the Tesla Coil or "magnifying transmitter" which is still used in televisions and radios today.

When Sterling cruised to their web site later that evening, he learned some eye-opening facts.

The transmitter generates extremely low frequency (ELF) waves and is capable of communicating with submerged submarines and conducting geophysical probes to identify and characterize natural ionospheric processes so that techniques can be developed to mitigate or control them.

Anti-H.A.A.R.P activists fear that the Military may be experimenting with Tesla's concept with the ultimate aim of developing mind control techniques.

And, at one web site, a hysterical blogger made wild claims that the recent raft of earthquakes in politically-sensitive hot-spots were man made.

"It's all documented," he asserted to doubters in the comment section, though it didn't escape Sterling's attention that he neglected to post any evidence supporting the claims.

When Sterling put forth that question, the dizzy blogger's response was quick and to the point.

"It's highly sensitive material, that's why."

A handful of concerned individuals are involved in a strident effort to shut H.A.A.R.P. down.

They worry about the fact the military is capable of generating an ionospheric lens capable of focusing on large amounts of high frequency energy and ionospheric processes that may be potentially exploited for a Department of Defense Electron acceleration of infrared (IR).

Say what?

In addition, the Government has fessed up they intend to utilize optical emissions to control radio wave propagation properties and generate geomagnetic field aligned ionization to control the reflection-scattering properties of radio waves.

H.A.A.R.P is a remarkable tool also capable of using oblique heating to produce effects on radio wave propagation - and thus - broadening potential military applications for ionospheric enhancement technology.

To alleviate widespread fear, managers have asserted publicly that the applications being used at the facility in Alaska are relatively harmless.

For example, one spokesperson at H.A.A.R.P. stressed that the fundamental goal of the research conducted is knowledge gathering in nature.

In sum, allegedly the aim is to understand natural phenomenon occurring in the Earth's ionosphere and near-space environment.

Information derived from this research will have a major value in the design of future communication and navigation systems for both military and civilian use.

Although research conducted at the H.A.A.R.P. observatory is generally published in peer-reviewed scientific journals - such as the Journal of Geophysical Research, Geophysical Research Letters, and Radio Science - naysayers contend that the results of experiments of a highly sensitive nature are kept secret.

And, there have been allegations that negative impacts on the environment in the vicinity have been kept under wraps.

"All of the significant environmental impacts associated with building and operating the H.A.A.R.P. observatory at Gakona can be mitigated to an acceptable level," a spokesman boasted.

"Some insignificant potential impacts, such as lost habitat, and wildlife impacts, may not be mitigated," staunch opponents fire back angrily.

According to project scientists, the H.A.A.R.P. facility will not affect weather.

Critics disagree.

Sterling was troubled about the data he stumbled on.

The military possibilities were scary.

And, the Government's tendency to downplay their involvement was downright suspicious.

No wonder, there were so many conspiracy theories running rampant on the Internet recently," Sterling quipped to a friend over coffee at Starbucks.

Intelligent concerned citizens like actor Martin Sheen have jumped on the protest bandwagon.

Why not Sterling?

(to be continued)

http://www.thetattler.biz

Curtis Stone...Celebrity Chef hosts Penfolds Premiere Grange Dinner! San Francisco!



That - oh! so sexy! - top celebrity Chef "Curtis Stone" (TV personality extraordinaire!) - jets into the bay area next week to host a chi chi Vintage Wine tasting event and dinner.

The spikey-haired blond hottie - with the puppy-dog eyes and captivating measured speech - doesn't come on the cheap!

The glittering soiree - being pushed by his slick handlers as an ultra-tony "Premiere Grange Dinner" (sponsored by Penfolds Vintage Wine Cellars) - is selling out fast at $350 a pop!

The elite few who attend will have a delicous opportunity to sample a dazzling array of sought-after wines, such as Penfolds Grange Shiraz (2006), Penfolds St. Henri Shiraz (2007), Penfolds Bin 707 Cabernet Sauvignon (2008), Penfolds RWT Barossa Valley Shiraz (2008), and Penfolds Yattarna Chardonnay (2008).

The much-ballyood celebrity-studded event is slated to kick off on April 30th at 7 p.m.

The following day, on May 1st, a wine-tasting ceremony will follow-up at a humbler more-affordabe rate of $75.00 with Winemaking Ambassador Matt Lane at the helm.

Reservations and Information

Lily.Lane@penfolds.com

707.299.3252



Latino and Asian voters...cry foul! At-large elections not fair!



Years ago, when Harvey Milk first ran for office in the Castro District, he lost the first couple of times out at the polling stations.

That is a little known footnote in San Francisco (and LGBT) history.

The reason he failed to nab the popular vote first-time out in the heady days of open-and-out gay activism?

Quite simply, the city districts were structured in such a way, that the election process did not favor the homosexual community.

However, once the Castro District was rezoned, Milk was able to snap up the majority - in neighborhood where the voters were mostly gay or homo-friendly - go figure!

Now, the Asian and Latino communities in San Mateo County are crying foul for the same reason.

The two ethnic groups make up one quarter of the county's nearly 72,000 residents and a slightly smaller share of its voting-age population.

So, what is the fuss all about?

The two minorities are lamenting the fact that only one Latino - and no Asians-Americans - have held seats on the five-member Board of Supervisors since 1995.

According to a spokesperson for the disgruntled voters, the at-large system - combined with alleged "racially polarized voting" - unlawfully deprives Latino and Asian members in the community to voice their preferences meaningfully with ballot-in-hand.

For this reason, a lawsuit - based on voting rights - has been filed against San Mateo County.

The plaintiffs are demanding that the Judge presiding over the proceedings declare the upcoming county-wide elections illegal. 

Pursuant to state law, attorney Robert Rubin (Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights) has argued that new election districts should include a majority-Latino and majority-Asian American district.

"And, perhaps there should be a third district, in which two groups together form a majority," he noted, in an after-thought.

In response, County Counsel John Beiers has stated for the record in no uncertain terms, that he has not seen any evidence that the at-large system weakens the voting power of Latinos or Asian Americans.

The underlying arguments that the suit is based on refers to a 2002 California voting-rights Law that prohibits at-large elections in areas with a history of racially polarized voting - such as in the case where the majority voted as a bloc - against minority candidates and minority interests.

The litigants are optimistic about their chances of prevailing in court.

After all, an appeals court upheld the law in a suit against Modesto, in 2006.

On the heels of the ruling, the city switched from an at-large system to district elections.

In defense, opponents argue quite vigorously that at-large elections encourage voters to consider diverse views of an entire city or county.

But, critics pooh pooh that notion, for good reason.

In their view, the at-large elections allow a majority - whether racial or political - to control a governing board and ignore minority concerns.

We'll see which way the wind blows, after the issues are hashed out in court.

http://www.thetattler.biz

Beachfront property worth fighting for!

Scandals...of the Privileged Few! A Novel by Julian Ayrs! Chapter 4!

'Lincecum was obviously shooting for his fourteenth no-hitter," Jock theorized, as he threw back a shot of whiskey and snatched up a handful of salted peanuts to munch on.

"Damn! Missed that," Colby groaned, without skipping a beat.

"I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Golden Gate," he fumed.

"Some asshole ran out of gas in the middle of the bridge and caused a huge traffic jam.

"Times are tough, 'ya know. A lot of folks can't afford to just filler 'er up, these days like they used to. Not at $4.50 a gallon. Five bucks, here. Ten bucks, there. Fortunately, I have a gauge on my dash that keeps an eye on the gas and mileage. Talk about a guzzler! But, at least I'm not running-on-empty."

"So, do 'ya bet on the Giants, or what," Colby quizzed with a sly grin on his face.

"Got any action 'ya can turn me on to?"

"Naw!"

Jock considered himself a bit of an amateur sports writer when it came to America's favorite pastime - and the Giants – of course.

Shortly after he caught the black and orange bug a few months ago (just before the rag-tag team was thrown together by Bochy and roared on to nab the World Championships) Jock launched a blog on the internet to keep track of each glorious hit, homer, and nasty slide.

The California transplant liked to think that he was actually fanning fan frenzy, egging the ballplayers on from the sidelines, and boosting morale.

The blog was gaining momentum - which was gratifying – because he’d tinkered with the concept quite a bit to get it up-and-running.

On occasion, Jock would glance up from his laptop – a bit weary-eyed and worse-for-wear – and be taken aback when he spied the two hands on the antique Grandfather clock in the hall spelling out some ungodly hour at the crack of dawn.

"Spare time on my free evenings is gobbled up just like that," he bluntly noted to Colby, as he snapped his fingers to accentuate the fact.

If he wasn’t careful - he’d be sucked into a vortex –  beyond this dimension inside the computer screen.

"So, 'ya getting many hits these days?"

"Uh-huh," Jock beamed, with smug satisfaction, as he double-checked the score for a hockey game on the wide-screen TV overhead running on muted mode overhead.

"The college kids want iTunes – pop chart stuff - when they're cruising the bimbos and letting off steam," the owner fessed up.

"Hitter's Paradise” had all the look and feel of a gritty New York sports bar - except for the lack of sports anchors droning in the background - in the dimly-lit watering hole.

"I installed this really cool tracking software. It's amazing, when 'ya think about it. Every day when I check the stats, I'm blown away. I have followers all the way down the coast, and North up to Alaska - even overseas in Germany and Italy - you name it!"

Once the traffic started to rev up, Jock was keen on fathoming ways to jazz up the web site, with the hope that he’d attract more dedicated fans.

By analyzing the numbers, Jock – a newbie, when it came to computers - was able to figure out which of the Giants were snapping up the most attention and why.

Yeah, it was turning out to be a popularity contest, like it or not.

Some folks may fear the beard – or think he’s downright wacky – but golly.

Wilson had quite a following, it was undeniable.

So, at the suggestion of an advertising exec he played golf with, Jock started posting action shots of Wilson, Tim Lincecum, and Buster Posey in ubiquitous hot-spots on the site.

If the featured players passed the litmus test – got a few hundred clicks or two – the images were left to grace the homepage.

Right now, Jock was trying to rustle up sponsors to generate some moolah, too.

Ultimately, he was anxious to expand and develop his sports blog and - in particular - a highlight he kiddingly referred to as the - "baseball web of fame".

"Heh, maybe I’ll tell my boss to take the job and shove it one day,” he cackled gleefully one raucous night, after he had a few mood-altering cocktails under his belt.

Lincecum was the player he admired the most.

"It’s uncanny. That arm of his is a gold mine, alright” he boasted on Tim’s behalf to his pals just prior to the start up of a match on local turf at AT & T ballpark over the weekend.

“And, sometimes - the way the sunlight falls on his face in the middle of a play - it's awesome, really."

"Sheer poetry in motion. Yup," an older gent, down-in-his-cups, uttered up from the shadows near the back door.

"Sometimes, you have to wonder – what’s he thinking under that baseball cap - once it's so tightly screwed down over his forehead."

Is he shy, or what?

"Modest, just betcha. It’s important to cut the bullshit and focus on the task at hand,” Jock added, matter-of-fact.

"The way Lincecum takes command on the pitcher's mound after they've been biting the dust. It's – well – mesmerizing!”

"Well, they don't call him the freak for no good reason, eh?" Colby teased in jest.

"Hard luck for Zito, though. What - he's out a month - that right?"

"Sprained his right foot," Jock uttered up in disgust.

"Zito dove to catch a pop in front of the mound in the 2nd inning. Risky, didn’t pay off, in the end."

"He left the clubhouse on crutches with a swollen ankle. Nothing broken, though."

"Pussy!"

Colby laughed out loud.

"It gets my goat, the way some of the ballplayers – Bumgarner, for example – lick their wounds in public.”

"Today was a huge step for me from where I've been. I started getting confidence back and to believe in myself a little more," Jock mimicked, at which point Colby cracked up, and slapped his buddy on the back in agreement.

"But, on occasion - when he reveals his sensitive feminine side - it gives me a roaring hard on.”

"The kid is too touchy-feely. He needs to beef up," the bartender quipped as he strode by in the direction of a table of lugheads with a half-a-dozen brewskies frothing at their mouths on a silver tray.

"Pump some iron, at least," Colby joked, as he unloosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

"Time to get down and get dirty."

It had been a tough day down at the stock exchange.

When a reporter announced on the local news that there was a shift in management at one of his top-sellers the stock took a nose dive.

"Didn't lose my shirt, though. Never have, yet!"

One of these days, he vowed he was going to get out of the racket.

Time to unwind!

“Party-time,” Colby cheered a bit shit-faced.

"One round on me, Frankie," he belted out to the bartender, as he slightly slurred his words.

"You're cut off," the struggling actor kidded, as he spun on his heel - tossed a bottle in the air - and on the rebound ceremoniously poured out a couple of shots with style and pizzazz.

"No, this one's on me, bud!"

"Fag," he barked out jokingly.

"Takes one to know one," he goosed back.

Colby chuckled.

About this time of the night, the bawdy locker room antics of the locals, usually revved up.

Ah, life was sweet.

He gulped down a tall glass of ice wate and popped a couple of aspirins.

That little cautionary act on a night of boozing usually prevented a splitting headache from rearing its ugly head the next day.

___________________________________________________


"Quite a turn-out," Candace whispered under her breath to her husband, as she maneuvered her way through Wilsey Court, in search of an obliging waiter with a tray of champagne in hand.

The one-hundred-or-so Balenciaga designer gowns on exhibit at the de Young Museum were simply exquisite.

"Anna loves the show, but with a laugh noted it was time for Hamish to get back to work," she overheard Sloan Barrett joke, as she flitted off to get a glimpse of Gwyneth Paltrow.

"Oh, she's posing for photographers with Juliet de Baubigny. You know, the hot-to-trot blond who pushes venture capital at Kleiner Perkins," one of her bridge buddies cooed with a slight dig in her voice.

The Balenciaga Gala brought out the power elite, that's for sure, one excited interior decorator gushed to his bottle-blond boyfriend in an aside.

Anna Wintour, the Editor for Vogue, was holding court in one corner.

In another alcove, Maria Bello and Mia Wasikowska – two talented actresses out-on-the-town – chatted each other up oblivious to the showy goings-on raging on all around them with gay abandon.

Mayer (Google) and Sheryl Sandberg (Facebook) – both dressed-to-the-nines in sparkly pricey frocks – talked tech shop.

Go figure!

A tastefully decorated tented patio was the place to schmooze - if a guest was capable of finagling his or her way inside the canvas gate – and likewise - manage to locate a plum perch.

Stanlee Gatti’s dazzling purple banquettes - festively adorned with eye-catching floral centerpieces topped with ornate black branches and sprigs of orange rinds - were a hit with the chic set in attendance.

"Did you get his card, dear," one socialite decked out in heavy artillery - a dazzling array of precious and semi-precious gems draped around her thin elegant neck - pestered her escort.

Former Mayor, Gavin Newsom, was seen glad-handing supporters as he flirted with a pretty lady or two.

His wife didn’t appear to be miffed at the glaring slight.

Was that really Orlando Bloom looking nonchalant and sporting a designer tux?

“He’s more of a stud in the flesh,” Candace mused to herself.

On screen, he came off a little bit too pretty - effeminate, in fact - Candace giggled to a handsome lawyer who was a Senior partner at the Meagan, Flom, and Del Toux.

After gently nursing a couple of glasses of bubbly down, Candace felt a little tipsy.

The pretty ball gowns adorning the svelte frames of the tony elite tonight signaled that black was the hue and cry of the fashionistas this season.

Pastels occasionally made a splashy entrance – and thus - managed to brighten up the sumptuous but staid - environs a smidgen.

Individual style – buoyed up with subtle romantic flourishes - was still in vogue.

“Timeless in appeal,” one up-and-coming dress designer sniffed in an arrogant snotty tone of voice.

Candace’s ankles were killing her.

She was tempted to slip the heels right off her feet, and stroll barefoot on the cool expensive marble floor, but decided against it.

It was silly to have tossed the pricey designer footwear on in view of the fact the Museum was packed to capacity.

For starters, some slightly inebriated fool might step on her toes, or - at a minimum - spill an exotic cocktail all over her spanking-new shoes.

On the other hand, the soiree was so packed, that it was doubtful anyone would be able to catch sight of her dainty beautifully-crafted high heels below the hectic fray.

Besides, as they say in Hollywood - if they're looking at your feet - you're in trouble.

For 39, she was still a looker, thanks to the skillful handiwork of a precise plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills.

No nips and tucks, not for Candace!

Who wants to end up with a ghastly stretched face mirroring that of Joan Rivers?

Dr. Logan diligently extracted a bit of fat drooping at the eyelid, for starters.

Then, expertly dealt with the crow’s feet.

Injections – fillers, as they’re referred to – triggered a magical transformation.

Within minutes, her skin was as smooth and as wrinkle-free as a baby’s virgin bottom.

In her youth, the seductive bombshell often engaged in a daily ritual, which just about ruined her skin permanently.

Every day around noon, she’s slip out to the pool – don a skimpy bikini – then slather on thick baby oil mixed with iodine.

For the next hour or two, the New Yorker would bake in the sizzling hot sun, unaware of the devastating damage she was causing.

Today, Candace recoils in horror at the mere thought of punishing her skin in that senseless fashion.

The former top model wised up.

What was the worst time of day to saunter out for some rays?

At peak hours – when the sun beat down in all its intensity – between 11 o’clock in the morning and 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

Just twenty minutes in direct sunlight can cause irreversible permanent damage.

Yes, slapping on skin block and moisturizers was of the utmost importance to ensure radiant healthy skin prevailed.

But, it was also essential to remain hydrated, and likewise, feast on delicious fresh fruit and raw vegetables rich in vitamins and nutrients.

In addition to a nourishing diet, a full night’s rest was key, too.

“Oh, Ms. Whitney is so high maintenance,” her nanny used to giggle to all within earshot.

Uh-huh.

You get the face you deserve at 50!

She always had this strange idea that a person’s thoughts, their feelings – even their attitude about life – influenced the process of exterior aging (and ultimately shaped first expressions and the overall attitude of a face).

Hard rockers like Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were not only perfect examples of what happens with skin care negligence  - but illustrated the horrors of what happens when an indiviudal pursues a wild party lifestyle with a vengeance.

At least her husband didn't stray - and hot-blooded males still made a play for her – alright.

Why not?

She wasn’t a cougar by any stretch of the imagination.

On the contrary, Candace was elegant, and stylish, and carried herself well.

"Oh, Candace, there you are!"

She turned, as Armistead Maupin came into view.

"There’s someone I want you to meet,” he gushed.

After he gave a little bow, a broad smile swept across his face.

Classy man.

Not a bad writer, either.

It wasn’t always wise to open up too much to Maupin, though.

Without intending to – and certainly not with any malicious forethought – friends and acquaintances (the shells of them at least?) often turned up between the hard-bound covers of his bestsellers.

Go figure!

On occasion, the guessing game became party fodder, alright.

Candace needed to lighten up, relax, and savor life more.

Some days, it was difficult to let her guard down, though.

A wall - a mask she hid behind - separated her from the rest of the world.

Unknown to many, she’d suffered through the school of hard knocks, though.

Who knew?

She raised herself up – when no one else would lend a hand – which was good on her.

Uh-huh.

A deep dark secret lurked beneath the surface, and sometimes gnawed away at her very soul, though no one else was aware of it.

Consequently, hooking up with her husband was a Godsend, in many respects.

While he waas out of town - usually on business - Candace was often left to her own devices.

Indeed, she was left to indulge in her new-found independence - and most importantly - pursue her interests in the Ballet, Modern Art,  and flower arrangement.

Orchids were her favorite.

The name - Orchid - came from the Greek "órkhis" which literally means "testicle" because of the shape of the root.

In most cultures, the exotic flower has been seen a symbol of beauty, royalty or love.

In Europe, orchids were used as a main ingredient in love potions.

Ancient Greeks also associated orchids with virility and fertility.

It was believed that if the father of an unborn child ate the largest and newest orchid stems and roots, then their child would be a male. But if the mother ate small orchid roots and stems, then she would give birth to a girl.

Today, the pink orchid is commonly designated as the 14th wedding anniversary flower, symbolizing affection and love.

That reminded her, they'd be celebrating their 13th, next week.

Maybe they should take a relaxing cruise to Hawaii?

(to be continued)

http://www.thetattler.biz/

Sarah Palin..."Blind Allegiance" expose! Queen of Tea Party potboiler!

Between the scandal sheets!



Poor Sarah Palin!

The former John McCain running mate - who ran against Obama's ticket in the last Presidential race - was pretty adept at keeping her innermost scandalous secrets in the closet.

And, with a slick posse of handlers on hand along the campaign trail daily, it was pretty much a snap for the charismatic upstart to prevent damaging gossip from floating out onto the political terrain and spewing over the vicious blogosphere where nasty pundits were laying in wait hungry for the the dirt.

Notwithstanding, staunch strident supporters were always at-the-ready - quick-as-a-wink- to leap into action and extinguish fires when they flared up now and then.

But, with a tell-all expose about to be published (and released) on May 24th, it appears that Sarah's fifteen glorious minutes in the sun are about to be eclipsed by the dark musings of Frank Bailey and a pack of wolves howling at the moon.

Go, figure!

Bailey is a former aide, who lived it up with Palin, so he could write it all down for posterity.

Now, his detailed chilling side of things is about to be released under the auspices of "Howard Books".

Due out on May 24th, the potboiler titled - "Blind Allegiance" - is expected to toss a searing spotlight on the Queen of the Tea Party circuit - and ultimately - knock the folksey Alaskan flat on her Republican ass.

Curiously, Ken Morris (a published author) and a high-profile blogger (Jeannie Devon) collaborated with Bailey on the much-anticipated page-turner.

Not surprising, eh?

When there are skeletons in the closet, a ghost whisperer or two, to shake out the cobwebs of intrigue!

Just betch, it's on the bestseller list, first week out on the shelves!

News at 11!

http://www.thetattler.biz



Tell-all no joke for Queen of Tea Party!

Chris Klein...chowing down on American Pie! DUI rehab blues?!

 



Idle hands are the Devil's playground.

In view of that, just maybe Chris Klein's nod to reprise his role in the successful "American Pie" franchis is a blessing in disguise.

Though his career started out promising, the actor's bid for superstardom fell short when the troubled talent got derailed by a couple of DUI's, which forced him to pine on the sidelines in rehab 'til he sobered up.

Post:  06/16/2010

http://forgusbeylan.blogspot.com/2010/06/chris-kleinpopular-actor-busted-for-dui.html

Klein's break in the business was not only typical - but a bit cliche - in many respects.

A hot-shot director saunters into town to scout a location for his upcoming flick - and ends up discovering an unknown actor strolling down the hall - while attending high schoo.

Before you can say - "overnight success" - Klein is being whisked around Tinsel Town in stretch limos and his acting career is about to skyrocket.

Unfortunately, he gets side-lined because of a thirst for the old demon rum!

Typical Hollywood actor's rags-to-riches story, eh?

But, there was one thing that set Klein apart from his contemporaries.

Unlike his competitive acting buddies - the kid from nowhere - is genuine!

When I attended a screening of a couple of flicks Klein starred in at the New Beverly Cinema last year - where he appeared for an insightful Q & A with a couple of luminaries in the industry (Director Jason Reitman and Jennifer Grey) I was struck by that fact right-off-the-bat.

Mr. Klein was down-to-earth and displayed a keen sense of humor.

Pretty hunky, too.

Post: 02/20/2010

http://forgusbeylan.blogspot.com/2010/02/jason-reitmandirectors-hilarious.html

But, can he handle meatier roles?

Maybe, but for now he appears to be satisfied chowing down on a piece of humble pie!

Break a leg, Chris!

http://www.thetattler.biz/




Reitman busy hand-ons auteur!

Dirty Dancer with great sense of humor!

Funeral Party...to gig on Dave Letterman tonight! Electric! Yummy! Attitude!



Although the band's name is Funeral Party, ironically, the toy-boy musicians are anything but stiff when they cut loose on the stage!

Labelled a post-punk dance craze act, understandably, music-lovers around the country are jumping on their bandwagon now that the glare of the spotlight has singled 'em out.

If 'ya caught the "Party" on a the late-night talk show this past week, you'll agree that the kids - who hail from the West Coast in the Golden State - are pretty high-spirited (which is part of their unique appeal).

Their distinctive sound is upbeat and hard-hitting
In a nutshell?

ELECTRIFYING!

Yummy stage lighting, stylish hip clothes - and ATTITUDE - set them apart.

Uh-huh!

After an appearance on Dave Letterman tonight, I expect they'll rocket off into the stratosphere, and never look back!
Their beginnings?

Humbling!
Band members - Chad Elliot, James Lawrence Torres, Kimo Kauhola and Tim Madrid - formed the group one starry night after a bit of howling at the moon in a local park.

"We all came from the same shitty town, and you have two choices: grow up and get a job or get out. That's what we tried to do with the band."

Gigs at backyard parties and warehouses on weekends set the musical wheels in motion - triggered a cult image.

It's been a sort-of rags-to-riches tale, when you consider that the aspiring band members had to borrow their equipment from competing bands and siblings!

The band was first signed to Fearless Records, but were shown the door without much explanation.

Now that Funeral Party is on their way to Pop Icon status, I expect there will be a myriad of offers.

Break a guitar tonight on Dave Letterman, eh?

http://www.thetattler.biz/



Yummy! Electric! Attitude!

Scandals of the Privileged Few! A Novel by Julian Ayrs! Chapter 3!



Robert tossed the newspaper down on the antique oak desk and reflected on the Court's ruling for a moment before jotting down a few salient points he'd argue at his lecture the week next at Harvard.

Justice Roberts got it right.

The outcome rested on constitutional law - even still - the end scenario stank.

It irked Steele that a posse of hateful Christians got a nod from the highest court in the land.

And, the plaintiffs were left to skulk away and lick their wounds.

"Well, it proves that the system works," quipped a senior partner at a lunch earlier that eventful day.

"But, justice wasn't served," a snotty waiter flippantly snipped as he scurried off to take an order at the next table.

Yeah, picketing a funeral - on any grounds - was a pretty despicable act.

Even Roberts - a well-meaning turd - admitted as much as that if you read between the lines.

In the final analysis?

The Supreme Court was forced to recognize that the protesters (headed up by a born-again Christian with all the intelligence of a slug) had a Constitutional right to voice their opinion pursuant to the U.S. Constitution.

In the eyes of decent folks, the Church group’s anti-gay protests at funerals (where picket signs were crudely scrawled with slogans like "God Hates fags" and "Thank God for dead Soldiers”) were sick and in bad taste.

Although their message may have been lacking in any resemblance to the loving God portrayed in the scriptures – or the Lord's message of compassion and understanding and forgiveness – the Supreme Court noted that the bible thumpers observed the laws of the land because they maintained a thousand-foot buffer zone and protested without “physical” violence .

What about the mental and emotional anguish they wrought on innocent mourners, Steele wondered aloud to himself, in total disbelief.

But, there it was, in black and white.

"Even hurtful speech on public issues merits 1st Amendment protection" the Court found (8 in favor and 1 in dissent).

Robert was just putting the finishing touches on his prepared speech when the joyous bells at quaint old St. Mary's chimed!

He glanced at the diamond-encrusted face of his tank watch.

Midnight!

The hours had slipped away into the dead of night without Robert being any-the-wiser.

It was time to pack up his briefcase and head home for a nightcap before tucking in for the night.

Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Tomorrow was Palm Sunday.

It was a toss up.

Should he attend a service at Grace Cathedral - which was obviously going to "play" to a packed house - with a lot of high drama and pomp and circumstance?

Maybe, he should just slip into the oldest Cathedral in the San Francisco - St. Mary’s – instead.

Coincidentally, just a few days ago, Robert received an e-mail from the Church leaders at Grace announcing the launch of their spanking-new web site.

How long would it be before church-goers elected to sleep in Sunday in favor of attending a "virtual" service later in the day when the lingering cobwebs of the all-knowing subsconscious finally surrendered their subjects to the warmth of a lazy sunny day?

Just click on a link - and presto - divulge the innermost secrets of the soul.

Confession!

“Do you suppose those wise old priests are scheming to utilize PayPal to rake in oodles of cash securely online," he joked to his neighbor over the fence as he dashed out to toss the trash in a ubiquitous recycle bin.

"A lot classier than passing around the hat," his neighbor shot back cynically.

Well, that would solve the problem of the snatch-and-grabs (theft) that were proliferating at collection boxes in the dank dark shadows of the grand old Cathedral.

"Until some scam artist from Nigeria hacks the site," Steele chuckled to himself.

Whew, he was tired, and needed a break.

At this juncture, he stretched his arms out high above his head – rolled his back a fraction to get the tension out - then hit the log-off button on his IBM ThinkPad.

Thank God, his Toshiba laptop was stolen.

After all, that unexpected turn-of-events ended up being a blessing in disguise.

But, the mugging was disturbing, nonetheless.

For years, Robert felt totally secure (and safe) residing on the West Coast in the tony climbs of sophisticated San Francisco.

Then, one night after a chat with friends over coffee at Serendipity - out-of-the-blue - three thugs dashed up from behind him on the dimly-lit street and snatched his laptop right out of his fine-boned hands.

"Heh," he cried out in shock, as they dashed down the street at breakneck speed.

At this point, Robert literally froze on the spot, as he watched the thieving trio disappear down a side street and into a dark alley.

For a moment, he was tempted to give them a merry chase.

But, he had second thoughts, after an inner voice cautioned against it.

Just maybe, the toughs were trying to lure him into an out-of-the-way spot, so they could steal his wallet and relieve him of his diamond ring and gold crucifix?

Oh well, good riddance!

Up until that point, Steele had been experiencing quite a few headaches, because of a handful of nasty glitches which were driving him over the edge.

In fact, the busy lawyer found himself spending more time editing his copy - than drafting his legal papers - that's how bad the word processing end got.

Shabby poorly-designed software was the culprit.

For example, the cursor on the Best Buy El Cheapo special, often hopped around the screen at whim.

Damn annoying!

In high school, he distinctly recalled that his teacher always hammered into him the importance of not looking at the copy or the keys when transcribing material from from one location to another.

"If you look back and forth, you'll develop a bad habit. And, you'll never learn to type properly, only hen and pick," Miss Fraser instructed daily from her podium at the front of the cramped school room at Humberside High.

Looking back, he recalled that he had a bit of a crush on the pretty young blond with the dazzling come-hither look.

Unfortunately, one day one of the bullies in class was inclined to embarrass the heck out of her, just to be mean.

He was a total asshole,

For example, during the second semester the rumor-mill started to spread a nasty piece of gossip.

Miss Fraser got knocked up!

Uh-huh!

To make matters worse, the joker hatched up an idea to put her on the hot seat, go figure!

"By the way,” he started off slowly at the end of class.

“Is it Miss or Missus,” he blurted out with a smirk on his acne-ridden face.

The silence in the aftermath was so loud, and awkward, it was deafening.

Without skipping a beat, Ms. Fraser reacted, just as her face turned beet red.

"Miss."

The insensitive bastard let out a guffaw, then recoiled in horror, as the rest of the class angrily stared him down.

After all, Ms. Fraser was one of the school’s favorite teachers, who was well-liked.

How cruel.

Shortly after that, in the last phase of her pregnancy, Ms. Fraser departed from the school without saying good-bye.

Yup.

One rainy day, some grey-haired old spinster gruffly strode in the room, and ordered us to turn to page fifty-six for the next lesson without so much as a “how are you, kids?"

Typing class was never the same after that.

But, in retrospect, the snappy dresser was glad he took typing - instead of the other option (Latin).

"That was before the advent of computer laptops. Who knew how important it would be to type proficiently? To most of the guys, it was the pussy's way out, to rustle up a decent credit to get by in High School," Robert recalled jokingly to one of his work-out buddies.

I wonder what ever happened to Ms. Fraser, he wondered to himself years later.

______________________________________________________


The hike up the steep hill to Grace Cathedral was an arduous one.

But, it was that, or circling for a half-hour-or-so to find parking.

With gas at $4.59 a gallon, Robert didn't fancy springing a sawbuck on a trip to the Palm Sunday celebration in his sleek black SUV.

By the time he crested the top of Nob Hill, he was quite noticeably out-of-breath, though.

"Okay. Okay. Okay," he uttered up under his breath in his best Joe Pesci impression.

His work schedule had been hectic, and he had let the treadmill - and daily work-outs at the gym – fall by the wayside.

Steele was paying big-time for that act of laziness now, alright, as he struggled to regain his breath.

But, come Monday, he was going to hop to it, and get his cardio vascular pumping and in tip-top shape once again.

If it killed him!

The service at Grace Cathedral wasn't going to rev up for about ten minutes or so, so Robert took a detour through the well-manicured park across the street, where the locals walked their rambunctious dogs, elderly Asian men and women practiced Tai Chi at the crack of dawn, and singles on the prowl occasionally strolled with an eye towards a hook up.

He always marveled at the delightful fountain situated in the center of park - which glistened today - in the early-morning light.

If Huntington Park’s spiffy “waterworks” looked familiar, it was for obvious reasons.

The landmark is a replica of  an Italian fountain – “Fontana delle Tartarughe" – gracing the Piazza Mattei in Rome.

The original was designed in 1581 by Giacomo della Porta and featured bronze figures sculpted by a craftsman by the name of Taddeo Landini.

The beautiful centerpiece was originally known as the "Fountain of Dolphins" because it exalted slender bronze youths riding dolphins.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini added a humorous - magical touch - when he incorporated tortoises when the fountain was overhauled in 1658-59.

The four Croker children - prominent long-time residents on tony Nob Hill - donated the dazzling sculpture to the City of San Francisco in 1954.

Today, there was an exhibition of sculpture on display, which complemented the scenic grounds in the heart of the city.

Steele was particularly drawn to the work of Scott Roach and its obvious tribal art influences.

Unfortunately, a couple of the artists lacked the know-how - or literary skills - to properly promote their art in the hand-outs that were distributed to art-lovers who stopped by to chat.

On occasion, the mission statements were bang on, though.

James Moore, another talented sculpture, underscored his keen efforts to employ powerful visual vocabularies based on the cube to represent the human form.

"When the rules of proportion and balance are applied, the resulting works capture what I see as the essence of graceful and playful movement and gesture."

His stick figures - one titled "Leap of Faith" – tossed the spotlight on his light touch, sense of humor, and unique crafting and construction skills.

None of the pieces would shake up the art world, unfortunately.

An old expression sprang to mind.

"I don't know much about art, but I know what I like."

When some fool uttered up a comment like that - an artist friend of Robert's - would invariably laugh out loud.

"Yeah, just betcha, they're the kind of folks who love black velvet paintings."

"Leslie, stop. That's rude, they'll hear you," Robert would urge in a polite hushed voice.

It was embarrassing the way the robust happy-go-lucky painter scoffed at potential patrons.

"It's your role to educate and enlighten," Steele teased in a sly effort to smooth the waters.

Les was the kind of artist who would rather starve - than sell a painting to some moron with big bucks - who he felt didn't deserve a passionate creation drummed up from the very depths of his artful soul!

"Boy, you wouldn't have survived in the middle ages," Robert lightly scolded.

"To survive in that era, artists were required to flatter their wealthy patrons with appealing likenesses, or be forced to live in the poor house.”

Indeed, quite a few of those wealthy old dames were ugly as sin, but you'd never know it by their celebrated portraits hanging in world-class collections at top-notch museums and prestigious art galleries around the globe.

In retrospect, you had to wonder, how Picasso ever got away with depicting Gertrude Stein as the old shrew that she was, without being banished from her elite powerful inner circle.

Personally, Robert preferred landscapes - the Hudson School, for instance - and Canada's group of seven.

Steele pined for the day when his walls would be graced with a Lauren Harris or Emily Carr.

“I’ll have to start chasing ambulances and representing clients in the insurance-industry-racket to afford it,” he ruefully complained to his friends.

________________________________________________________


When Robert dashed into Grace Cathedral, a line was forming at one end, where the faithful waited patiently to follow the Choir down the aisle with reeds in hand during the Palm Sunday celebration.

One of the priests informed him that there were a few seats available in the pews, so he snatched up the program, and slipped into seat a-dozen-or-so rows from the front of the Cathedral.

Funny that!

There was always a good turn-out on Christmas (for midnight Mass, in particular) and Easter, the two holiest occasions on the church calendar, each year.

Did Christians feel guilty if they failed to observe the birth and death of Jesus?

Were those faithful moments expected to book-end their dreary little lives, and curry favor with the Lord?

Or, were they the meek simply bowing to peer pressure?

If Steele neglected to attend service regularly, it was because of a growing trend at the Church, he was not in accord with.

At Grace, there were quite a few females preaching, which made him a tad uncomfortable.

A phrase from the Bible loomed large in his mind in that regard.

"The Whore of Babylon."

If Robert recalled correctly from his Sunday school classes, the "Whore" was associated with the "Antichrist and the Beast" referred to in the Book of Revelations ( and the allegorical kingdom).

According to the prophecies in the final chapter of the Holy Scriptures, the apocalyptic downfall of the "Whore" unfolds in the hands of the beast with seven heads and ten horns.

Robert reached for a copy of the St. James bible on the bookshelf and perused the passages to refresh his failing memory.

The Holy Scriptures / Revelations

17:4

And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication.

17:5

And upon her forehead was a name written:

Mystery, Babylon the Great, Mother of the Harlots
(Abominations of Earth)

17:6

And, I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.
And, when I saw her, I wondered with great admiration.

17:9

And, here is the mind which hath wisdom.
The seven heads are seven mountains on which the woman sitteth.

17:10

And there are seven kings:
Five are fallen, and one is, and the other is not yet come
And, when he cometh, he must continue a short space.

17:11

And, the beast that was, and is not,
Even he is the eighth, and is of the seven, and goeth into perdition

17:12

And, the ten horns which thou saw are ten kings, which have received no kingdom as yet;
But, receive power as kings one hour with the beast.

17:15

And, they saith unto me, The waters which thou sawest
Where the whore sitteth, are peoples, and multitudes
And nations, and tongues

17:18

And the woman which thou sawest is that great city
Which reigneth over the kings of the earth.

Biblical scholars commonly used the phrase "Whore of Babylon" to refer to the Roman Catholic Church.

Reformation writers who taught these associations included respected Martin Luther (1483–1546), John Calvin (1509–1564), and John Knox (1510–1572)

Supporters often quoted the following verses from Revelations 17:5 to describe her:

"And on her forehead a name was written"

"Mystery, Babylon of the Great, Mother of Harlots"
(Abominations of the Earth)

A harlot is representative of a church that has been unfaithful,

"The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet, and adorned with gold and precious stones and pearls, having in her hand a golden cup full of abominations and the filthiness of her fornication."
Understandably, Steele felt more comfortable with a male presiding over the services, as a matter of personal preference.

Go figure!

Female doctors gave Steele the willies, too.

However, some dudes warm up to the idea of a physical - or prostate check - with a pretty young intern at the – um – helm.

Was Steele a male chauvinist pig?

No, it all went back to his childhood - the way he was raised, his faith, and that sort-of-thing.

Curiously, a few weeks prior, Steele attended a service at Grace - the “Contemplative Eucharis” - which was held early in the evening at 6 p.m. on a Sunday evening.

It was an intimate affair, where two dozen or so parishioners formed a circle on the labyrinth, near the entrance of the Cathedral.

Shortly after the breaking of the bread, and the drinking the blood of Christ, a still small voice inside of him spoke out.

"God is not here."

Say what?

He looked around.

Did anyone else hear that?

Nope, guess not, because they solemnly continued worshipping.

Weeks later, the memory of it, still caused him to shudder.

After the service, Steele dashed downstairs for a coffee and cookie on the house, and to unwind.

In spite of the fact it was Palm Sunday, and heartfelt sermons were uttered up upstairs just minutes prior, the volunteers serving up the refreshments remained aloof and distant from the parishioners streaming in to chat each other up.

When Steele approached one table with flyers on it, a prissy middle-aged lady stared down her nose at him, and blurted out rudely:

"This is for women."

Gosh - did it never occur to the ice Queen - that a handful of men in attendance might be interested in rustling up information for the women (mothers, sisters, girlfriends) in their lives?

"I'm not wearing my glasses, so I couldn’t peruse the information on the hand-out," he responded, with a broad smile, nonetheless.

Suddenly, he recalled that Grace had a new web site, so he pulled out his laptop to see if the webmaster had set-up any Internet connection yet.

When the splash screen burst across the computer screen, the usual list of Internet servers, were blocked out.

The walls at Grace must be pretty thick, Robert chuckled to himself, as he perused the screen for more options.

When he clicked on the icon for the lone service that popped up in a dialogue box, he noticed the ID right off-off-the-bat.

It read "Black Hawk".

A shiver ran up his spine, but it wasn't a pleasant one, in fact.

He pondered the situation for a moment.

What would happen if Steele inputted  "Whore of Babylon" and tried to use the three digit password  666?

(to be continued)

http://www.thetattler.biz

Fountain in Huntington Park on Nob Hill!

 

Lady Gaga..."Judas" confession leaked on web! Sure to be a bullet rife with controversy!

 



With Easter upon us and Lady Gaga's latest single "Judas" about to be released world-wide on April 19th - a controversy is sure to erupt - in the aftermath.

Well - in the Western World - for starters!

Will the Vatican denounce the Pop Diva - who just may be a nice little Catholic girl under all the pushed-up bras, net stockings, and frenzied hoopla and hype - once the accompanying Video rocks the airwaves later in the week?

Not surprisingly, "Judas" has already made its way onto the web, just shy of  the official release.

A ploy by "L" to rev up buzz - or just an honest-to-goodness case of Internet pirating by enterprising monsters out to push their Pop Diva into the stratosphere - and roaring glare of the spotlight once again just in time for a change of season?

As we used to say in the "old" days, spring time is our time, eh?

At press time, Interscope Records hasn't uttered a peep in response.

However, the Diva's throaty vocals, say it all.

"Ohhh, I'm in love with Judas," she gushes on the track, which is accompanied by building synths.

Soon a thumping electronic beat kicks in as Gaga sings:

"Judahhh/ Juda-a-ah/ Gaga."

The signature bump and grind is reminiscent of "Bad Romance."

Meanwhile, MTV spouts that "Judas" is simply Gaga’s version of the Bible.

A confession?

"Let the cultural baptism begin," Gaga giggle recently in a Video release at Gagavision.

 "If they were not who you were taught they would be, would you still believe?"

As the Emperor would say in "Amadeus".

"There you have it, then!"

Amen!

http://www.thetattler.biz



Pop Diva hit monster!



 

ALL TIME LOW...Pop Band appears @ Warfield! San Francisco! April 16th!

 

Although a posse of music-lovers escaped town this weekend to - party-hearty, catch a few rays (God Willing), and revel in the eclectic sounds of a handful of high-profile popular bands slated to take the stage at Coachella Music & Arts Festival - a gang of die-hard "All time Low" fans trotted down to the Warfield to snatch up tickets for a live! concert tonight at the legendary venue.

Tourists were forced to maneuver their way through a gang of band enthusiastics camped out on Market Street in a line that snaked haphazardly down the street as far as the eye could see.

"All Time Low" is a band that hails from Baltimore which consists of vocalist/rhythm guitarist Alexander Gaskarth, lead guitiarist/back-up vocalist Jack Barakat, bassist Zachary Merrick, and drummer Rian Dawson.

In high school, the ambitious pop talents started out humbly enough, covering for pop punk bands such as ever-popular Blink-183.

In a short meteoric rise, "All Time Low" suddenly found themselves signing a record deal with enterprising "Emerald Moon Records".

"The Party Scene", their 1st studio album, was released in 2005.

A deal with "Hopeless Records" triggered a debut album which featured two catchy tunes for their EP which was titled "Put Up or Shut Up."

The EP landed on Top Heatseekers charts as a result.

"So Wrong, It's Right" was their most commercially successful recording which peaked at number 62 on the Billboard 200 (and number 6 on the Independent Albums chart.)

"Dear Maria, Count Me In" - a nifty tune about a stripper from their hometown - took off and was singled out at number 86 on the Pop 100 (to later achieve gold status in spite of the fact they did not nab any radio play).

The hotties were first featured on MTV - then followed up that appearance with a high-profile debut on the Jimmy Kimmel show broadcast out of Hollywood.

Understandably, there has been no looking back!

CONCERT

April 16th

VENUE

Warfield
982 Market Street
San Francisco, CA
94102-4012


CURTAIN

7:00 P.M.

TICKETS

http://www.thewarfieldtheatre.com/events.php

http://www.thetattler.biz

Stylish hip band popular!

Big Brother..."Open Call" Auditions in San Francisco! Saturday April 16th!



One of night-time televisions's long-time survivors on the reality-show circuit - "Big Brother" - is rolling in to town to cast a wide net for fresh talent to feature on the upcoming season on CBS.

In response, a swarm of excited hopefuls are expected to descend on the "open call" tomorrow in downtown San Francisco to try their luck at landing a coveted spot on the popular highly-rated bill-of-fare.

With that in mind, casting Director Robyn Kass - who has hand-picked sexy contestants for "The Bachelor" and the "Bachelorette" in the recent past - has offered up a handful of tips to ensure the audition process runs smoothly for starry-eyed talents anxious to break into spotlight and roar on to infamey in pop culture.

For starters, Kass urges potential candidates to be at ease while they're on the hot seat.

"Just come in a good mood and talk to us like you're taking to your best friends," she stressed in a recent upbeat interview with the local press.

"There are certain people you are just naturally drawn to. It may be the way they talk, laugh, move, yell, use their hands, express themselves. It's something intriguing about them that makes us want to hear more. There are just certain people out there who are great at capturing our attention,without trying too hard."
 
In a nutshell?
 
Don't look desperate, eh?

When it come to the issue of a "look", Kass underscored the importance of dressing sharp.

Don't wear "costumes" in a bold-faced effort to "call attention" to your - um - fantastic personality, though.

If you read between the lines - the message rings out - crystal clear.

Avoid going for "broke' or being too over-the-top!

Ms. Kass stressed that "Big Brother" does not have their eye out for any specific types at the auditions tomorrow.

"Every city we go to we hope to find unique, colorful personalities. We don't have any specific expectations for San Fran, but we do expect everyone to show up with their "A" game."

A final bit of advice to get prepped for the big day?

"Get a good night sleep before hand. If ou look good and feel good your chances will be better. Please come with stories to back up anything you tell us. For example, if you say you are conniving, you better have some stories in your real life to back up why you would say that. Don't just say that just to say it."

Parting words?

"If you're a fan of Big Brother GO FOR IT! Now is your chance."

Okie-Dokie!

Break a leg, eh?

AUDITION INFO

Big Brother
CBS
Reality Show

GUIDELINES

PRINT & FILL OUT APPLICATION

http://www.cbs.com/casting/big_brother/Application.pdf

PROOF OF IDENTITY
(Driver's license or State issued ID)

PUBLICITY SHOTS
(one face and one body shot)

LOCATION

Sugar Cafe
679 Sutter Street

San Francisco, CA
94102

DATE

April 16th
(Saturday)

AUDITION TIMES

3 p.m. to 6 p.m.

http://www.thetattler.biz



Big Brother is watching!

The X Factor...Simon Cowell auditions in Newark, Seattle & Dallas! Catch a rising star!

 



Cowell's virile hairy factor!

In a recent e-mail, Simon Cowell - the former American Idol Judge - posed a pointed question.

Do you - or a friend or a family member - have what it takes to become a global superstar?

Uh-huh!

The feisty Brit - known for his caustic wit - is out to rustle up a bevy of unknown singing sensations to showcase on his upcoming variety entertainment show.

The X Factor!

Cowell is launching the project - a version of which is fairing well in the ratings on the boob tube in jolly old England - in the fall on Fox TV.

X Factor - which Cowell describes as a "make-it-or-break-it" vocal competition - is different than the current fodder proliferating on the airwaves (such as American Idol and Dancing with the Stars) because there are no restrictions.

Solo singers, vocal groups - and anyone over the age of 12 - have the chance to win a $5 million recording deal with Sony Music.

You got it!

There's no "upper age" limit!

Performers - who are under the impression that they have what it takes to make it big in show-biz - are encouraged to audition for the Judges.

Although try-outs have already commenced in a couple of major cities around the country, there are three open calls in April (one in May) that performers may attend in Newark, Seattle, Chicago, and Dallas.

Now is your chance!

Who knows, you may just walk away with a $5 million recording contract, eh?

STEP-BY-STEP AUDITION INFO

REGISTER

Registration consists of a two-part process.

FIRST

Contestants must collect their wristband the day before the audition.

The lines may be long, so plan accordingly, and be patient!

If friends and family tag along for support, they are required to register as well.

SECOND

Contestants are advised to arrive at the audition hall before 8 AM on the audition date.

Because there may be a long wait, contestants are advised to dress weather appropriate and pack snacks and drinks (to prevent starvation!).

Identification

All attendees (and their families and friends) must present recognized Government-issued ID.

Audition Locations

Prudential Center
Newark, NJ

April 13th
(Tuesday)
 April 14th
(Wednesday)

Key Arena
Seattle, WA

April 19th
(Tuesday)
 April 20th
(Wednesday)

Sears Center Arena
Chicago, IL

April 26th
(Tuesday)
April 27th
(Wednesday)

Dallas Convention Center
Dallas, TX

May 25th
(Wednesday)
May 26th
(Thursday)

Audition Tips

PICK YOUR SONGS

Contestants are advised to select a verse and chorus from 3 songs which they are expected to sing without back-up sheet music.
It is suggested that potential candidates pick songs that show-off their personal talents and that are capable of highlighting their individual style.

DRESS TO IMPRESS

Look the part - which means - projecting a style that underscores star quality.

ELIGIBILITY REQUIREMENTS

Contestants are required to be U.S. citizens.

A parent or legal guardian must accompany performers under the age of 18.

ID is required for minors.

School ID or a yearbook page with a matching birth certificate are acceptable.

Information

http://www.fox.com/thexfactor

Toll free

855 345 5678

Break a leg, eh?

http://www.thetattler.biz



American Idol a blur now!

Merrell Down & Dirty National Mud Run Series...a wild muck-in-your eye ride! Los Angeles Debuts in Los Angeles! April 17th!

 

 

Subaru is inviting you to - Have Fun - Get Dirty! - in a manner of speaking!

Merrell's "Down & Dirty National Mud Run Series" will debut on April 17th on the West Coast in trendy Los Angeles and features 5K and 10K off-road courses which will feature military-style obstacles, commanding cargo climbs, wild crossings, and a heck-of-a-lot of muck.

Here's mud in your eye

In addition to the raucous competitions going down on the track, there will also be YUMMY post-race food, electic upbeat music and an awesome - "Tech tee Race" - rumbling alongside rough 'n tumble Military personnel, Public Safety Officers, and Police Academy trainees.

The world's first - high-spirited "Night Mud Run" - will also kick-off  on April 16th!

The wild 5K race will start under an auspicious dark sky and roar through the  off-road trails of the Castaic Lake State Recreation Area.

The competition will toss the spotlight on all of Merrell's tippy-top-best "Down & Dirty" obstacles which will include a nighttime crawl through the mud!

Yuck!

The field is limited to 1,000 registrants, so sign on now, eh?

REGISTER

http://www.downanddirtymudrun.com/register.cfm

INFORMATION

http://www.downanddirtymudrun.com/register.cfm

See 'ya there!

http://www.thetattler.biz

Obstacle course a toughie!

Andy Warhol...original 4-image-style self-portait to be sold @ auction! Quirky artist laughing in grave!

One of the most recognizable self-portraits by celebrated Pop Icon - Andy Warhol - was not inspired by vanity contrary to popular belief.

The distinctive four-part image of the quirky artist – somewhat reminiscent of a dreary mug shot taken on the fly at a local jailhouse after a late-night DUI (soon to fetch upwards of $20 million at auction) sprang to life in a round-about fashion.

In a bit of a switcheroo, the tables were turned on Warhol when a socialite agreed to “sit” for the phantom auteur - who reined over the notorious “Factory” in New York City in the heady 70's - provided he rustle up an original image of himself to grace her wall.

Although the former graphic artist was inclined to whip up portraits of the rich and famous in a particular style - in this instance case - there was a creative departure.

Instead of shooting a Polaroid first to capture his essential spirit (as he did with the jet set elite he captured on his eclectic canvasses), Warhol responded to a light bulb that went off in his head on this unique occasion.

The zany visionary artist dashed out the door with sunglasses firmly affixed on his snoz - attired in a ubiquitous raincoat similar to those worn by flashers - and plunked a few quarters into a dingy photo booth down the street in his artsy-fartsy neighborhood.

Once the quarters were plugged into the slot, he camped it up in front of the crude camera - and thus - drummed up a series of four images to use as the basis for the self-styled portrait.

His delighted patron, a woman by the name of Mrs. Barron, was so thrilled with the creation that it remained in her hands until she passed to spirit in 1999.

Guy - the art-lover's son - has now given the nod for the unique one-of-a-kind piece to be sold to the highest bidder at Christie’s next month at what is expected to be a sold-old event .

“It’s one-off,” confided Brett Gorvy, a co-head of the auction house’s post-war and contemporary art department.

“While he (Warhol) did individual panels of this image, this is the only one conceived as a four-part piece.”

In sum, the portrait(s) are essentially a glorified version of the photo-booth strip images, originally spit out of the vending machine for a paltry buck or two.

Personally, I prefer the way Warhol exalted the Campbell’s soup can!

Sheer genius!

http://www.thetattler.biz

Andy started in advertising & window display in NYC!