The Male Gays

Once his special day every year, Irwin comes up with a birthday plan that's completely secret until the last possible second. This time around? A mid-afternoon text with instructions to meet at Esta Noche. Umm, that Esta Noche?

Like me, you may have walked by ONE THOUSAND times and never remotely considered popping in -- that palm tree a cosmic lightning rod for sad sadness.

Turns out it's Irwin's new favorite Latino tranny bar in the neighborhood. And the bartenders are all "really nice." Really nice!

But hangin' with the gays in there was just too good. Underneath an enormous painting of Joe Dallesandro's enormous penis, we talked ex-boyfriends/girlfriends and shared sev/er/al citrus vodka cranberries.

Best bar in the neighborhood? Until next year.

Happy birthday, Irwin.

Meanwhile, an outerwear selection:

Esta noche todas las noches?

Murse Cunningham/"Might As Well"

Snap.

My First Murse arrives by post today.

She told me, "liquor" / I am a new man.

Hot Freaks.

Taaffe Time, Totally.

Dear Mr. Philip Taaffe,

Where have you been all my life? And who's to blame?

My goodness.

"I’m not so interested in this series of ruptures, where minimalism took over pop art, and then neo-expressionism was a triumph over that. I’m not interested in rupture—I’m interested in healing, bringing things together, building bridges. Not dismissing what has come before as a kind of modernist precedent, where one thing has to be broken in order to achieve something else. I don’t believe in that kind of attitude. I think we’re beyond that at this stage."

Untitled II, 1982

Untitled IV, 1984

Crescent Nocturne, 1995

Untitled, 1999

Calligram, 2002

Isola, 2002 

Heavy Rotations

This Thursday evening SFMoMA continues to make good on their 75th birthday celebration agenda with an essential assortment of astonishing Bay Area films from the late 40's and early 50's.

Posse includes Harry Smith, James Broughton, Frank Stauffacher, Sidney Peterson, and Jordan Belson.

Optical Benches/Optical Minds. When abstract was handmade and impossible-looking and deeply, deeply in orbit.

And the Belson stuff on film? That living light? That straight up dialogue with - gulp - essence? Actually non-negotiable.

Be There.

Harry Smith, Heaven and Earth Magic Feature, 1957-1962

Jordan Belson, World, 1970

Admittedly, it's totally tragic to be missing maniac guitar savant Bill Orcutt performing the same evening at the Hemlock. What is this? San Francisco supplying TWO blockbuster events simultaneously? Unthinkable!

Get a load of his electro-blues-howl-paroxysm. Have you ever heard anything as good as this before?

Hey: Remember

"Remember about mountains: What they are made of is not what made them." John McPhee, Annals of the Former World

truetrue.
true.

Cinematic McFlurry

Dear me!
Bruce McClure multi-projector performance tonight via Cinematheque.

Kind of like the avant/industrial Ghost of Christmas 2040 takes Lincoln Center with a stage production of In Cold Blood. You and all your cousins are there, completely freaking out. Kind of Reznoresque -- fine -- but just round up! Pleasantly overworked 3D sensory pummlation.

His introduction was bizarro comic gold, made even warmer by his super comfy-looking red polar fleece jacket. Now can I finally get one? What am I even talking about?

Amazingly, Chris and I BOTH saw this bearded dude from within the depths of the big screen dissonance. See him? That dude right there with the beard?

Way to make it happen on your camera phone, good buddy!

Kite/Owl/Malted Vanilla with Candied Peanut

Totally. LONE-ly morning on the windy coast. A kite in a tree.

But then, just before lunch in Pt Reyes, Walter eagles a great horned owl 40 ft up. The most insanest. Pretty sweet view through his pro rig. Redeemed, we bump Midnight Marauders all the way home. Oh yeah, we also stop for some fucking ICE CREAM at Ici in Berkeley...you know it?

Visual Telepathy