interview done by Karen + Stephen Tortora-Lee

Mike Milazzo – The Show from Mads Jeppesen on Vimeo.

If you’ve ever seen Mike Milazzo play the guitar then you already know what an amazing experience it is to watch him – his fingers fly effortlessly over the strings producing almost unbelievably complex sounds that are not only beautiful and powerful but raw and real.  As a songwriter Mike has the ability to find the core of what connects us all and finesse it into thoughtful words and haunting melodies.  As a singer, Mike’s voice is earnest and true; evocative and filled with emotion.  He takes you on a journey with every line he sings, and it’s not until he’s strummed his last note that you’re able to break the hypnotic spell which his music has cast over you. You only have to sit through one of Mike’s performances to know that he is one of the best musicians around.

For those not lucky enough to be able to see Mike perform in person, he’s working on getting a new album out called “The Show”.   Mike Milazzo took some time in between gigs to chat with us about what inspired him to write these songs, what the differences are between collaborating and going solo, and he finally solves the mystery of who, exactly, “Mr. Barry” is.  Read on …

You’ve got an album coming out called “The Show”. Tell us a little bit about the songs that you chose to be on that album. What do they mean to you?

MM: All these songs came out of the Manhattan experience of being at Under St. Marks and hanging out with the open mic crowd.  A lot of the songs were developed at Penny’s Open Mic.  A couple of the songs besides “The Show” (which is really the core of this album) that I like a lot are “Love is A Cage” and “Angels”.

“Angels” started out as a song about how friends of mine were having some problems and struggling with their singing voices, but how they could start finding their confidence. The rest of the song veered off into my own spirituality, and my spirituality, as if angels were singing to me, representing the angels in my life. But my songs are about a lot of different things, and mean different things to different people. I think songs should be like that.

The title of the album is very evocative … it can mean The Show as in “The performance”, or The Show as in … “the big reveal”. What does “The Show” mean to you?

It means a little of both. Yes a performance, but on another level Life itself  is The Big Show.  The most important message of the album is “just make it happen“.  It’s the lesson I’ve gotten from working at Penny’s – that if you have an idea you should start out with what you have and build on it … the more you work on it the better it becomes.

A lot of people ask me what some of the lyrics of “The Show” mean.  For instance, there is a line in”The Show” about Mr. Barry, that everyone ask me about.   “Mr. Barry” as a phrase just rolled off the tongue well. He’s really the composite of a lot of people in my life. So “Mr. Bary” is really whoever you want him to be. It originally was from Barry Manilow but “Mr. Manilow” just didn’t roll off the tongue as well. When people listen to the song I imagine them adding their own layers of meaning and experiences for their own versions – their own “Mr. Barry”s of what they see in the song.

How long has The Show been in the works?

I’ve been putting it together from a lot of pieces since the last album (The World Outside) came out.  So for a couple of years now.

The few songs that I’ve heard from that album are amazingly complex as well as deeply thoughtful. Where does your inspiration come from?

In general most of my songs are from my relationships, with women, girlfriends, but also relationships in general. Many of the new songs on this album came from me workshopping and performing in front of people. For example, the song “The Show” is about my experiences with those performing at Penny’s Open Mic. I like story songs, songs about characters and people, which helps me to get out of the relationship box. I tend to write about relationships, I just take a slice of life and tell a story about it and it’s those stories that people seem to be able to relate to.

You’ve got a solo career as well as a collaborative career. How do you find yourself working differently alone than with other people?

I get a lot out of working alone, I can definitely go deeper when I’m working on a solo project, but sometimes it’s hard examining your own emotions so intently all the time for months and months and months without taking a break. When I collaborate I can get out of myself and go in a different direction than I would on a single project. It keeps me from getting too self absorbed and keeps me fresh.  I have more breakthroughs while playing in my other bands (Broken Arrow, Cutleri, Kill The Band, The Boardlords, Anacoustic Mind) and come back to my own material refreshed.

With The Boardlords, I get to satisfy my lead guitar jones, playing lead guitar in a punk band. With Kill the Band, I get to express my comedic side, playing a character, and its more of a cabaret act. With Cutleri and Anacoustic Mind, I get to play mandolin, which is an instrument I don’t get to play a lot. I love using different instruments, and playing different styles of music.

I get a chance to do things I wouldn’t normally do all on my own. I can move into a direction musically which I wouldn’t move in by myself and so it helps expand my range as an artist. I feel like I began to be a part of a lot of bands because I’m inherently lazy, but I’ve discovered by balancing my collaborative work with my solo work its really helped me become more of a storytelling songwriter. Now I have a lot more range from all the work I do and it shows in the songs I write.

As far as collaboratively, I know you’re doing a lot of work with Killy Dwyer and Kill The Band. That’s got to be a lot of fun for you. Tell me about that experience.

Yeah, that experience really helped pull me into this whole scene.  Joe Yoga and I went from just being sort of backup for Killy to being a part of this comedic cabaret with Killy as this mock rock icon battling against the boardrooms of America.  It’s really a lot of fun, and Kill the Band has become one of my regular gigs.   My work with them has given me a lot of breakthroughs that I wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t been part of that experience.

You’ve got an IndieGoGo campaign going right now that’s got around a week left.  I know how important it is for a solo artist to gain support form the community. How can people learn more about you and support your upcoming album?

This campaign is something I learned from being part of this community of artists over the last few years.  It’s about not only making art, but making art the way you want to.  With so many people in this scene having the same sort of goal, it just seems like IndieGoGo or KickStarter is now the smart way of doing these sort of projects.  It becomes sort of a “pay it forward” sort of thing. Mads Jeppesen From Finland is using IndieGoGo for his film Somewhere In The Dark and it’s a great example of how these things can work to take artists’ concepts to a whole other level with this method of making projects happen on a bigger scale than they could have before things like KickStarter and IndiGoGo existed.

I felt it was really important to do it for myself, and also do it for my other friends. I’ve contributed to a lot of projects and being part of these communities it just make sense to pitch in a little where you can to make it happen or find people outside of the community and see if they can help.  Sometimes it just becomes a problem of finding a patron. Other times patrons are looking for people they want to support and IndieGoGo and other campaigns are a great way to build awareness with new people who might not have heard of us before.

Bonus Question! You can tell me anything you want. Tell me a joke, give me your favorite quote or lyrics … or recipe … promote a cause … tell me something else about The Show that I may have not asked … anything! The mic is yours …

Through Horse Trade Theater Group, Under St. Marks Theater, and Penny’s Open Mic, a community opened up that I wouldn’t have met otherwise. I’d never have known them without them creating this space for artists to come together.

So many good groups of musicians and performers got their start at Under St. Marks Theater. It’s a great place for a lot of networking with supportive people. Right now, it is in risk because the building is for sale. There’s a campaign for Horse Trade to save the theater from being another venue destroyed in NYC. I Just wanted to get that message out again because it’s a really good thing that has really changed my life.

Mike!  Such a pleasure to learn more about the man behind the music.

For those of you who want to help this amazing man get his album realized you can go to his Indie GoGo page  … for a donation of just 25 bucks you can get a copy of his first album “The World Outside” and you’ll also get that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing that you helped the amazing Mike Milazzo get his next album out there for the world to enjoy.  In a world of Britneys couldn’t we all use a little more Mike Milazzo?  So go there now!

Related Posts:

• Early Risers / Night Owls … Come With Me – Help Save UNDER St. Marks
• Following The Path Of Yoga
• Last Looks At The Happiest Medium In 3-D – Pull Your Glasses Out
• Interview With Mads Jeppesen: Somewhere In The Dark
• “Kill The Band” Knocks ‘Em Dead (Frigid Festival 2010)

It has been a long 13 years since hiphop artist EMINEM burst onto the music scene and the charts with his first studio record, “The Slim Shady LP”.  An ecclectic and shocking album, 5 more equally shocking albums would follow, and be placed at number 1 on the American Billboard Charts for years to come.

It wasn’t until 2006 or so, that Eminem (aka Marshall Mathers) announced he would be retiring, and also seeking help for personal problems and rehablitation.  As a fan, and someone who never knew hiphop until I first heard Eminem when I was 13 years old, I was devastated.  This is an artist that came out–angry, loud, and full of energy and rhythm I had never heard–someone who exposed me to a kind of pain I was feeling–from the most unexpected source– the land of hip hop, and he was finished? Done? Over?

Flash forward to June 2010, and Eminem is back with a vengence with his latest album “Recovery”.  What a great, heartbreaking record.  Scattered with famous samples from old tunes, to rock to rap, to everything in between, the album is a personal diary . . . of an artist’s struggle with his career, the spotlight, drug abuse, and domestic abuse.  He has since left behind what made him famous– his constant dissing, and dropping of derogatory terms in a joking context, to something true, honest, and painfully detailed.  Never, in my opinion has an artist been able to bounce back, survive, and ultimately be so frank with his audience, maybe a true rock star. This is why I admire Eminem, Marshall Mathers, whatever the name, this person. The musical genius indeed.  His has stepped up to the table, lived through his war and decided to let the world know his personal story.  That is a real rock star.

Check out the video for his first single “Not Afraid”

Related Posts:

• Planet Connections Q&A: Down The Rabbit Hole / Recovery

Today, in memory of Michael Jackson’s passing, we re-post a great tribute written by Michael’s friend and business associate, Howard Bloom, who shared his memories of Michael with me one year ago.

* * *

On the night of June 25th, when I was on my nightly mile-long 1 am walk that loops me up to Prospect Park then takes me back to my brownstone, I passed a pair of 18 year olds sitting on a stoop at this lonely hour when the streets and sidewalks are usually utterly devoid of human beings. The guy had long dark black curly hair and the girl had a short, blond haircut and was wearing shorts. The male said something to me as I passed. I walked back, took off my headphones, and asked him to repeat it. He said, “Michael Jackson is dead.”

I asked him why he said that to me. I wondered if he knew me from the Tea Lounge on Union Street, where I do my writing, or from the streets and if he knew my Michael Jackson connection. No, he didn’t. He was telling it to everyone. He wanted no one to ignore it.

He was particularly emphatic about making sure that no one over the age of 30 pass it by or dismiss it. Michael Jackson’s death, he felt, was a loss to all of us whether we realized it or not.

How did I get involved with Michael and his brothers?

It was Spring of 1983 and the Jacksons were getting together to go on the road for their Victory Tour. They were getting the whole family together for this tour, including their dad, who had originally managed the rise of the Jackson Five to the top. Their manager for the Victory Tour called me over and over again for four months, asking me to work with the Jacksons.  I kept saying no.  At this point I’d helped Amnesty International establish itself in North America, had worked with Simon and Garfunkel when they’d reunited for an audience of half a million  in a free concert in Central Park, then when they’d gone out on tour, and I had done Queen’s massive tour of 110,000 seat soccer stadiums in South America.

But I liked to do crusades–to fight for truths others didn’t see.  The Jackson’s tour didn’t feel like a challenge.  It already had it made. Michael had just sold 36 million copies of just one album–Thriller.  That’s nearly three times as many as the previous record holder, Peter Frampton. I didn’t feel The Jacksons needed me.  So I continued to turn them down. But I felt that if you’re going to say no to someone, at least you should have  the courage to say it to their face.  So when the Jacksons came into New York and asked me to meet with them at the Helmsley Palace hotel, I had to do it.  Even though the meeting was at midnight on a Saturday night, and I worked from 9 am until I dropped during the weekends.

The minute I walked into the suite the Jacksons had set up for meetings, two things were obvious. One … from the body language of these brothers you could tell that The Jacksons were some of the most honest, ethical, open people you would ever meet. Two: They were in very big trouble. They didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know what it was. But what I did know was this: here was a challenge. There was a wrong to be righted.  An invisible wrong.  A wrong all of us could feel but none of us could name. I had to say yes.

My first meeting with Michael didn’t come until four months later.  I was with Michael’s brothers at Marlon’s pool house in Encino–a tiny two-story building  with one room per floor in the back yard next to Marlon’s pool.  By then I’d done my homework.  I’d read thousands of articles on Michael.  I’d compiled a dossier on the Jackson’s lives.  One thing all the articles agreed on was this:  Michael was not a normal human being.  The articles called him a bubble baby, described him as a person who would shrink from your touch.

But the fact is that neither Michael nor I had been raised in a conventionally normal childhood; neither of us had been raised among other kids.  So I didn’t know the common rituals of normal life.  I had to teach myself by watching other people as if they were specimens and I was a visitor from Mars.  One of the rituals I’d seen was the handshake between strangers.  You know, you see someone you’ve never met before but who others want you to meet.  You walk up to him or her, you stick out your hand, and you say, “Hello, my name is  ______.”  This was a ritual I’d almost never used.  But when Michael opened the pool house’s screen door, I walked up to him stuck out my hand and said “Hi I’m Howard.”

I knew what would happen.  The articles had explained it.  Michael would recoil from my touch.  But that’s not what occurred.  Michael put out his hand, shook mine, and replied “Hi I’m Michael.” It was as normal and as natural as could be. The media stories were false.  But thousands of press people had parroted them as truths.  Something strange was happening in Michael’s noosphere–in the sphere of press perception we are handed as reality.  Eventually those mistakes would kill him.  But that’s a story for another time.

A few minutes later Michael and I climbed the cramped stairs to the tiny room upstairs where Marlon kept his recording equipment. I’d written a press release and I wanted Michael’s approval.  We found places to sit on the stacks of amps and keyboards.  I read the press release out loud.  And as I did, Michael’s body softened.  “That’s beautiful,” he said when I was finished, “Did you write that?”  The fact was, I had. And the fact was that writing press releases was not just a hack job for me, it was an art. I’d edited a literary magazine that had won two National Academy of Poets prizes.  And in the decades since, the Washington Post has called the writing in my books “beautiful.”  But no one else had ever seen the art hidden in the craft and the creativity hidden in the ordinary.  Michael apparently had.

Once Michael had approved of the press release, we went back downstairs to the small single room on the first floor.  Against the walls and lining the room were arcade videogame machines, machines only amusement arcades could afford in those days. And in the center of the room, hogging up most of the space, was a billiard table.  The Jacksons were scheduled to have a meeting with an art director from CBS so the group could decide on the Victory Tour album cover.  They wanted me to be in on it.

When the art director arrived, she bore the portfolios of five artists, portfolios she stacked at one end of the pool table’s green felt playing surface.   These were not just the black vinyl portfolios most commercial artists use to display their work. Every one of these was a custom-made presentation case made of hand-tooled leather or rich cherry wood. And every one was from a legendary artist, an artist at the very top of his field.

We were all bunched together on the opposite side of the pool table from the art director.  Michael was in the center.  I stood next to him on his left.  And the brothers were crowded around us on either side. The CBS art director slid the first of the portfolios toward Michael.  He opened the first page, slowly … just enough to see perhaps an inch of the image. As he took in the artwork his knees began to buckle, his elbows bent, and all he could say was “oooohhhhh.” A soft, orgasmic “ooooh.” In that one syllable and in his body language, you could feel what he was seeing.

Do you know the poem by William Blake –

The intense ambition of that poem, the intense desire for wonder, was alive in Michael. More alive than anything of the sort I’d ever seen.  Michael saw the infinite in an inch.  As Michael opened the page further, inch by inch, his knees and elbows bent even more and his ”ooohs,” his sounds of aesthetic orgasm, grew even more intense.  Standing elbow to elbow and shoulder to shoulder with him, you could feel him discovering things in the brush and inkstrokes that even the artist never saw. By the time he’d opened the full page his body and voice expressed an ecstasy. An aesthetic epiphany.  I’d never encountered anything like it.  Michael felt the beauty of the page with every cell of his being.

I’ve worked with Prince, Bob Marley, Peter Gabriel, Billy Joel, and Bette Midler, some of the most talented people of our generation, and not one of them had the quality of wonder that came alive in Michael. He saw the wonder in everything. His quality of wonder was beyond anything most of us humans can conceive.

Look, above all other things I’m a scientist.  Science is my religion.  It’s been my religion since I was ten years old. The first two rules of science are 1) the truth at any price including the price of your life; and 2) Look at the things right under your nose as if you’ve never seen them before and then proceed from there. And that’s not just a rule of science.  It’s a rule of art.  And it’s a rule of life.  Very few people know it. Even fewer people live it. But Michael was it, he incarnated it in every follicle of his being.  Michael was the closest I’ve ever come to a secular angel. A secular saint.

Look, I’m an atheist, but Michael was not. He believed he was given a gift by God.  He believed he was given talents and wonders and astonishments seldom granted to us very fragile human beings. Because God had given him this enormous gift, he felt he owed the experience of wonder, astonishment, awe, and Blake’s infinities to his fellow human beings.  But unlike other generous humans–Bill and Melinda Gates, for example–with Michael giving to others was not just a part-time thing.  The need to give to others was alive in every breath he took every single day.

Michael Jackson’s entire life was receiving and giving and the whole purpose of receiving was so he could give. He worked with every cell in his body to give the gift of that amazement, that astonishment to his fellow human beings. Needing the adulation of crowds WAS Michael’s connection to others, his most profound connection, far more profound than family and friends (though those are indispensable), and far more healing. That act of giving keeps an iconic person, a person who never knows normalness, alive.

I’d love to tell you the stories of how Michael made these things clear.  But, again, those tales will have to wait for another day.

It seems strange to say this, but Michael will always be a part of me. No other superstar I worked with wound himself into the threads at my core the way he did.  Michael opened a window to a quality of wonder unlike anything I’d ever been exposed to in my life. For that gift, I felt I owed him. I felt we all owed him.  And we still do.  We owe him an honest view of who he was.  We will owe him that until we finally sweep away the crap of sensationalist headlines and clearly see why those who love him know more about him than any expert or journalist who claims to have probed his life.  Those journalists and experts do not know Michael Jackson.  But if you love him, there’s a good chance that you do.

~~~

Related Posts:

• Michael Jackson’s “This Is It”

It’s no secret that I’m a huge Gaga fan.  But fan or no, I’m not actually writing this post as a person who loves the Lady.  This is a response to the bashing Lady Gaga’s Telephone video has been getting in the media.  Bashing which is so unwarranted that it’s caused me to go on a tirade to anyone who will listen.  And yes, at this point it’s almost a “so what?”  but at the same time, I’ve got this blog and rather than repeating these same points over and over I’ll take it to the web, where at least I can accentuate my points with exhibits that I can write funny captions for.

So Much Scandal, So Little Bandwidth

I would like to present the case that absolutely nothing in Telephone can’t already be found in pre-existing mainstream media – media which, I might add, is often far more exploitative of women and far more pointlessly violent, and pointlessly pornographic.  I would also like to illustrate how many of the Telephone images that are being isolated and vilified have, in other contexts and for other artists, been celebrated.  My question is – are we honestly going to crucify a woman who creates a video that is a veritable homage to Tarantino films just weeks after nominating him for Hollywood’s highest honor without someone crying hypocrisy?  What’s REALLY going on here?

The prosecution makes their case:

Sandy Rios Objection – “We have to speculate whether she has a male member or not … whether it’s been cut off or not”.  I love when people give you a glimpse into their mind by telling you how they filled in the blanks.  Sandy Rios, you dirty dirty girl.  No one in the video said anything about john-bobbiting at all.  Not even REMOTELY.  But I love that you inadvertently told us what YOU started to speculate – which was a whole lot kinkier than what the prison guard actually said.  Unless you’ve been living under a rock and sharing lichen with Sandy Rios you know exactly what the prison guard said, and why.  Frankly, it was a funny, wink-wink moment that I found hilarious.  I’m not quite sure how a woman who makes her mark on this world as the President of the Culture Campaign and as a commentator on a news program can be so out of touch with the actual meaning of this exchange.  Her ignorance alone on that issue 1) disqualifies her from commenting on ANYTHING in the video and 2) proves that she’s not involved enough in the media to be policing it, as whole cultural touchstones seem to be whizzing over her head.   Sitting on the sidelines and crying foul when something enters the red zone of your morality meter does not make you an accurate litmus test for what is “poisonous to the minds of our children”.

Just Checking ... yup ... Still there.

I direct Ms. Rios’s attention to Rihanna’s “Hard” video (pictured) and ask what she then makes of Rihanna repeating “I’m so hard, so hard, so hard, so hard” while repeatedly grabbing her crotch?  Maybe Rianna’s asking us to speculate whether she has a male member or not too?

Sandy Rios Objection – “Beyonce and Gaga are Gay Lesbian Lovers”.  They are?  They look more like Thelma and Louise from where I’m sitting … You know, good ole Thelma and Louise, who were also murderers, remember,  and who … if I’m not mistaken shared a big ole kiss before grabbing hands and plunging over that cliff.  Yet they’ve become lovable movie icons who have, in the 20 years since the movie’s release, spawned many homages (especially in cartoons) but no copycat suicides to date that I’ve been made aware of.

Once More Into The Breach, Dear Friend

Sandy Rios Statement “I would not, under any circumstance, allow my children to buy Lady Gaga cds or listen to them … and I would explain to them why”.  I imagine it would go something like this: “No!  Put that down!  I can not allow you to listen to fluffy ear candy with messages that, when played backwards contain satanic messages, or recipes for making crack in the basement! No Lady Gaga in the Rios house EVER!!!  I don’t care if it has a good beat and you can dance to it!”

Gaga is kissed by a girl – branded girl-on-girl disgusting soft-core porn.  Sandy Rios says “You may not watch it, I may not watch it, but the man next door who’s a sexual predator is watching it!”  He is?  Right next door?  I thought I lived next door to an avid sports fan?  You know, the kind of man who worships and hopes to emulate Tiger Woods … a much more wholesome role model whose actions DON’T poison the minds of our youth. Oh wait …

Exhibit a: A sexual predator is so ready to sexualize anything that he thinks a playground at lunchtime is a soft-core porn paradise.  He’s not going to surf MTV and wait for the Lady Gaga video to come on to feed his predatory lust.  He’s already put together a slide show of all the Naked Photo Shoot episodes of America’s Next Top Model.
Exhibit b: Katy Perry sang “I Kissed A Girl … And I Liked It!” which is all about getting drunk and kissing some no-name girl as “an experiment”.  The song get Katy Perry a VMA award nomination and a Kid’s Choice Award.  A KID’S CHOICE AWARD.  Not only were kids listening to it, they were CHOOSING it as their favorite song.  Go figure.
Exhibit c: Last time I checked, being gay wasn’t a crime, and kissing wasn’t pornographic.

Objection that a girl kissing a girl is soft core porn – Overruled.

WARNING!  BUTTS AHEAD!

Quick, Look Away Before Your Eyes Burn Out Of Your Head!

Objection – Fox blurred out this very scene when showing it on their report because if they didn’t you then would be able to see “everything”.  If that’s EVERYTHING down there, Fox needs an anatomy lesson.

Ladies of Chicago

Exhibit a:  The outfits worn during Gaga’s dance scene in the prison corridor look similar to the outfits worn by the women prisoners in the musical “Chicago”.  Shall we quickly go over that plot?  A woman cheat on her husband, kills her lover, tries to pin the murder on her husband, goes to jail, meets many unsavroy woman, says whatever her oily lawyer tells her to, feigns pregnancy, has to side step the lesbian advances of the prison matron, and eventually teams up with the other biggest murderess (who murdered her husband and her sister) in the joint in order to keep the fame monster going.  The venerable Chicago The Musical gift store sells T shirts emblazoned with the rallying cry “He Had It Coming …”.  Had WHAT coming?  His own murder? Did he now?
Oh, and just a little footnote: Chicago won six Tony awards and was successfully brought to the big screen where it won six Academy Awards including Best Picture and BEST COSTUME DESIGN.  AND it was based on a 1926 play which in fact was based on actual events which occured way back in the 1920s … which all pre-dated Lady Gaga by 80 or so years so I’m pretty sure that she had no hand in poisoning the mind of the actual woman upon which the whole shebang is based.

I See London, I See France, Where Are Cher's Underpants?

Exhibit b: Cher blatantly showed her butt (Or, in Fox-speak, “Everything”) in her 1989 video for “If I Could Turn Back Time”; a video filled with sailors, suggestive rides on huge cannons and prancing, all of which had nothing to do with the lyrics of the song.  It was “scandalous” then. Have we learned nothing in 20 years?  Oh wait … of course we have.   Since then we’ve had:

Exhibit c: Victoria’s Secret “Angels” parading around in their annual … I’m sorry, are you calling this a Fashion Show?  Are you seriously putting this event on year after year and expecting people to think “Awwww, how cute!  They’re angels? Cuddle Cuddle!  Good clean fun for our boys!”

Miranda Kerr Shows Her Angel Parts

Last time I checked the Bible, angels were messengers of God  (not of Victoria) who are asexual therefore not really the type to go running around in bra and a thong (and garter belts either).  So in effect, by calling these naked gals “angels” and outfitting them with wings and little else you’re basically taking a religious being and debasing it.  No one would put a saint in a thong, or a nun, or the Pope, Mother Theresa, or the Virgin Mary.  Why, it’s blasphemous to even think it.  So, in my mind it’s tantamount to putting an angel in a thong.  But instead the Fashion Show is televised and eagerly awaited, despite all the “everything” that’s so proudly displayed.

Oh, and just because I find this picture sosos0 funny, let’s look at it for a moment (and no, I’m not picking on Rihanna,

I’m just curious what Sandy Rios would have to say).  So … here we have Rihanna in her Disney best, and little else.  If this doesn’t help to turn an otherwise un-sexy object specifically meant for children (Mickey Mouse ears???) into something titillating, then I’m misreading the intent here, eh? Meanwhile, I do hope Rihanna was smart and used some double sided sticky tape in order to make sure that her … hat stayed on.

Objection that wearing a thong is “exposing everything” Overruled.

Then there’s the “bondage” objection which I’m not quite clear on.  Hmmm, could it possibly be this image here?  I’m going to guess it is and proceed accordingly.

While it’s not exactly my style, very little of what Gaga wears ever is, which is what makes it so much fun.  Sure, this is a little revealing, but bondage?  When … first of all … it’s got a pretty positive feminist message of “do not cross” rather than “open for business!” so …

All Wrapped Up - Gisele

I’m pretty down with that.  And secondly, I think it’s safe to say that by this point of the video it’s all a bit of hyper realism, as opposed to REAL fashion, worn by REAL fashion models which our REAL daughters are trying to emulate leading to REAL anorexia, bulimia, and REAL plastic surgery of Heidi Montag proportions.  Take this REAL dress worn by Gisele Bündchen which, frankly, looks more like bondage, especially with those fetish shoes.  And is it me, or does this photo make her look like a bit of an amputee?  Now THAT’s a little bit of exploitation.  All things being equal of course.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen ..." "No, YOU'RE the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!" "No! YOU!" .... "Shut up! It's YOU. YOU'RE beautiful!!!" "Okay, okay. You're right. It's me."

Ahhh, counsellor, you’ve now opened the door … may we just examine Gisele’s oeuvre a bit here?  Just do a Google search and you come across a thousand little images that, when put together end to end and, say, and made into a slide show and played over a song such as … oh, I don’t know … Telephone … would be quite shocking too.  Why, you can even find some girl-on-girl kissin’ … never-mind that the girl and the girl are both Gisele.  The thought planted in the head of millions of little randy teen boys is the same.  In fact, it’s a bit worse, because it looks like she’s kissing her twin sister which, to me, opens up a whole nasty can of worms that I don’t want to pursue here.  Again … just sayin’.

But while we’re at it, I would like to talk about what “our children” are being exposed to and what “perverts” are using to fuel their nasty fantasy machines before going out and hurting people.  Besides Lady Gaga videos (which, obviously, are right up there …) I’d like to add the venerable Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.  A boon to the magazine when the marketing department (come on, we all know the story) realized that during the sports slump they could raise the flaccid sales of their magazine (you heard me right) by putting pretty young things in very, very little and calling it a “bonus issue”.  (Subscribers who are offended by the contents are allowed to skip the issue and get a 1-week credit.)  I call it a “boner” issue, but that’s just me.  It all started off healthy enough, I guess, in 1964 with Babette March on the cover being playful but these days it’s more s0ft-core porn than

1964

you’ll find in this Gaga video.  For years, models have worn the skimpiest of bikinis … at some point they started holding their tops rather than wearing them (see this year’s cover), and now, with body-painting gaining popularity, half of them don’t bother wearing anything at all (see last year’s cover; “Bikinis Or Nothing!” it shouts as Bar Refaeli struggles to keep her bottoms on and only succeeds in showing us her brazilian wax).  This is considered wholesome, cute, fun, healthy, other words with positive connotations that don’t imply one-step-below-Playboy Magazine (which is also so mainstream that getting an offer to pose for them is considered an “honor”) …but a singer dancing around in a studded bikini is considered soft-core porn?  Still not connecting the dots, sorry.

2009 ... can't ...keep ...bottoms ...on ...

2010 ... can't ... keep ... top ... on ...

As for the rest, the “mass murder” … Yes, agreed, it was a bit odd to see everyone sputtering over there food and keeling over.  But when Beyonce (squeaky clean Beyonce – somehow the Justin Timberlake to Gaga’s Janet Jackson in all of this) drops a Bit o’ Honey Bee Poison in her nasty boyfriends coffee I was right on board with her.  He was just downright mean, even that other guy thought so.  If Honey Bee didn’t kill him, someone else would have.

The end of this 10 minute video plays a bit like Pulp Fiction, which, if I’m not mistaken, was directed by Mr. Quentin Tarantino; a man whose films have a combine body count that outnumbers some natural disasters and who not only is revered for his work but is nominated for Oscars – butchering bodies as well as the spelling of the word bastard – to thunderous applause.  I don’t see people calling for a ban on his work.  No one’s accusing him of poisoning the minds of our youth.  Let’s face it, if we started banning mass murder half the film makers in Hollywood would be on trial; including those nominated for Oscars.    So rather than call these Telephone murders gratuitous for no reason, howsabout we call them gratuitous for EXACTLY that reason.  For the same reason Rhianna is sitting on top of a tank and firing a gun for no reason.  It’s for the sake of irony, eh?

You Can Stand Under My Um-ber-ella-ella-ella Or Under My AK-47-7-7-7

Violence is so commonplace these days that it doesn’t get a second glance.  But put it in a dance video in an ironic way and suddenly they’re calling out the troops.  Maybe they’ll call Rhianna?

I happen to like the movie Thelma and Louise.  I like the musical Chicago.  I like the movie version too.  I love Cher.  I like Rhianna. I like America’s Next Top Model and Katy Perry.  I like fashion and fetish shoes and people of all genders and sexual persuasions being able to kiss each other whenever they want to.  I like the Quentin Tarantino films that I’ve seen.  I like hyper realism and thoughtful commentary and a driving beat and exceptional choreography.  I like the Telephone video.  It’s funny, clever, and so obviously meant to be taken on an abstract meta level that to misconstrue the meaning of it is to, again, give more of a window into a twisted mind than anything else.  I wish I could call for a ban on people who are so concrete about everything that they don’t allow for the notion that the action IS the commentary.  I assume these are the same people who didn’t realize that “All In The Family” was a satire meant to expose the Archie Bunkers of this world rather than venerate them. But if we banned all those who asked to ban things that would mean that commentators who stand atop the judgement plateau wagging their fingers at everything that pushes the envelope would be out of a job, and frankly I don’t think the economy can handle that so … have at it, you finger waggers.  You dig your own graves.

If you’re worried about your children, then Parents – police your children.  I grew up on Madonna, Boy George and The Cure as my musical influences.  Aside from having hair that was immobile, lips that were ice blue outlined in black and a penchant for androgyny I escaped my teens relatively unscathed and I would assumed today’s youth would be able to do the same.  I grew up thoughtful, I make good choices for myself and my world, and I don’t abuse alcohol, drugs, puppies, my spouse or the system. Would I want my kids to watch this Lady Gaga video?  I don’t have kids.  But that’s not the part of the Sandy Rios statement that’s concerning me … “This is just poison for the minds of our kids”  it’s when she goes on to say  “… and for our minds, for that matter”. She’s obviously not poisoning your mind, Ms. Rios, because she disgusts you and disgust is the antidote to this type of poison.  She’s certainly not poisoning my mind, because I find her video at best clever and thoughtful, and at worst, just really entertaining.  So why the royal “we”?  (Or, in this case, the royal “our”).  Who are the disenfranchised for whom you speak?  I daresay those people are already making the wrong choices with or without a little extra Gaga poisoning.

We’re bombarded with images, thoughts and conflicting opinions all day long.  The only way to make informed decisions about anything is to be informed. I believe that uninformed censorship leads to something a lot worse than titillation and good choreography.

The only thing I intended to do today was to prove that anything provocative, scandalous or horrifying in the Telephone video is already out there in the form of movies, fashion, videos, and magazines.  90% of what is portrayed has already been seen, well received, and in some cases, celebrated.  To say “well that’s different” just means “well, that’s accepted”.  If you can allow Saw to have five sequels, surely you can allow Gaga to clear one little diner out so she and Beyonce can get their dance on?

The defense rests.

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Of all the things I never thought I’d be interesting in (vacations on the beach, camping in some nature preserve, going vegan, studying mathematical theory) well, Irish folky type bands top that list. I grew up in Our Lady of Perpetual Help parish, where every March the Catholic grammar school went Green (back when that meant something else entirely) and all the halls were plastered with posters of 4 men dressed as leprechauns and smiling gleefully over their respective instruments. This was my introduction to Irish bands.

Now, don’t get me wrong, my Sinéad O’Connor album was never off the turn table for long during my college years (You heard me, I said TURN TABLE. It’s where we used to put a VINYL RECORD, which spun around and played minuets and ragtime and cave music). But my interest never meandered farther than that, not even to Bono or the Cranberries. So to see me staring at the Amazon page watching “Falling Slowly” over and over again on Sunday morning was a little surreal.

After seeing Once on Saturday night (by accident) I found myself thoroughly captivated and obsessed with Glen Hansard, this movie, the music and the story. Funny to call a movie “Once” when it’s so destined to become a movie that people watch over and over again. I’ll spare you my movie review or plot outline, but I will tell you that it’s firmly in my top 10 of all time.

So, in short: The Frames … my New Favorite Thing. I seriously was thinking to myself tonight (as I gazed all moon-y faced at the YouTube video of Falling Slowly and When Your Mind’s Made Up) “Wow … who’da thunk it? I got me a school-girl-crush on a band again.” You some how hit this age and think you’re out of the music scene … not having felt this excitement since you raced out to buy Madonna’s True Blue album. And you suddenly feel 17 again … Nice.

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