Archives for posts with tag: sarah palin

My third meeting with Gore Vidal.

Two years ago I was introduced to him by Dennis and Elizabeth Kucinich when Dennis Kucinich was running for President.

The second time I met Vidal it was with Stephen Fry when Stephen was here in LA writing his book.

On both occasions I had to share him with many others.

On this occasion Charlie Parsons and I had him all to ourselves.

Gore looks very frail.  He looks like a child.  Sitting in his wheelchair, his clothes hanging off his slight frame.  His eyes still blaze, his smile..when he smiles…lighting up his whole face.   He looks ever so slightly like Monty Burns.  He remains mesmerizing.

He is still king of the brilliant bon mot.

Charlie  arrived from London and checked into his hotel.

My good buddy is here in LA so we get to spend a great deal of time together.  He is such fun and very gently mocks how seriously I take myself.

We sat with Gore at his dining room table in his beautiful Spanish revival house (for sale) in the Hollywood Hills riveted to his take on contemporary America.

Sitting with his assistant and his realtor Delphine.  He offered us white wine but we opted (obviously) for water.

Gore recently sold his home in Italy so the house is crammed not only with thousands of books piled in every room but also an extraordinary collection of renaissance art.

A ginger cat with huge eyes lay on his bed.

We sat in the dining room chatting, covering a great deal of ground in a very short amount of time.

We discussed his dancing carp, we discussed the errant Charlie Sheen who he had once played a corrupt senator opposite in The Shadow Conspiracy.

He laughed at how he was always asked to play corrupt senators.

We discuss Sarah Palin .  He impersonates Palin brilliantly reducing us to fits of giggles.  He described her as ‘un-American’, he laments her lack of intelligence.

We discuss pre-war Germany and how the catastrophic economic situation here perfectly mirrors the situation there; creating a moment in time when a person like Palin can grab the attention of the people and make them feel as if she alone can provide simple answers for difficult problems.

Like any snobby intellectual he scorns the stupid whenever he can.   He laments how Obama has been stopped by the vicious right from achieving anything esteemable.

Yet, Obama’s people were also described as ‘stupid’.

Next week he will be with Gorbachev.  He holds Gorbachev in very high regard.

Not only is Gore Vidal a remarkable man, he is a remarkable gay man.  Inspiring me to understand the old, old gay man in my film and who he might be.

Such a wonderful history.  Belligerent, surly, glamorous.

During one of the TV debates at the 1968 Democrat Convention erudite William F. Buckley, Jr. called Gore a “goddamn queer” and threatened to beat him up.

When we left the house we sat quietly in the car making sense of this extraordinary moment.

Gore Vidal, embittered by this contemporary America.  He is saddened that corruption is rife.

Like anyone with a big brain he wants to understand how this could have happened to such a great country.

He mentioned my pet American peeve, that Americans boast continually that they are the very best at everything in all the world.

That they have the best police, firemen, soldiers, scientists, schools, healthcare, healthcare delivery… the list is as long as you want to make it.

Yet, elsewhere people live longer, are better educated, live safely etc.  Gore mocked American grandiosity.

He said, “I don’t know many Swedish boys who are desperate to become American, look at the people who do…”

At one point Vidal started talking about the end of slavery, how the blacks were deliberately uneducated by the whites and if they showed any desire for an education, for reading and writing, he said that they were “Taken out and shot.”

I remember a Chris Rock skit when he imagines what that must have felt like, to disguise ones intelligence for fear of ones life.

Now we are all slaves with no real need to be educated.

Do American white folk still resent an educated black man?  Is that what he was trying to say?  Was this why, when he was elected, people here kept on telling me that Obama would be assassinated?

I drove home listening to NPR but I couldn’t listen to anything other than the conversation we had just had with this frail old man.

When he dies something of old America, good America will die with him.

Chris Rock

Just one of many murders allowed to walk American streets freely whilst innocents languish in prison.

Add her name to a growing list of treasonous Americans who regularly incite hatred and violence against their fellow country men and specifically their President.   Sarah Palin, Rush Limburg and Glenn Beck: this grim triumvirate has become an impressive killing machine.

Bloated, ignorant commentators using freedom of speech as an ideological shield from behind which they scream their uninformed, toxic rhetoric.

In turn the dumb American proletariat, unable to fight for their own, turn on those who want to help them the most.

The ‘Christian’ hate speak of Sarah Palin and her legion of devoted followers has claimed the first of many of it’s intended victims..because, make no mistake, in the Palin home today they are praying that Congress Woman Gifford dies.

The meaningless sop, theses ‘thoughts and prayers’ offered to Gifford’s family and the American people from Sarah Palin this past twenty-four hours disguises a plain truth:  the only prayer to Palin’s God is that Gifford becomes just the first of many elected officials who will either be killed or too scared to stick to their ‘progressive’ principals.

This highly motivated fascist machine with its unpaid hit men will not, cannot be stopped with or for any reason.  They are deaf to anything other than their own message.

Still furious that a black man can be President these pink, treasonous men and women have done everything possible to stop Obama from achieving anything he promised the American people during his campaign.   Small minded folk, red necks, laughing amongst themselves as they take turns insulting the black man, tripping him up and laughing as he falls, spitting in his face…dragging him behind the car…hanging him from the nearest tree.

If only Obama didn’t look so damned scared, when Joe Wilson screamed ‘you lie’ (boy) “I called that nigger a liar to his face.”  Obama looked appropriately  sheepish at the good old boys.  Scared of the white man.  Michelle, on the other hand, shot them back that look..she isn’t scared because she knows exactly who these men are and who they represent.  But we all knew about her, we had been warned that she could be…uppity.

Their pink skinned agenda, as if you weren’t already aware:  No abortion.  More War.  More Guns.  More Prisons.  No Respect for the Environment.  Free to be Racist/Homophobic.  Free to ‘take down’ anyone with opposing ideas.  Free to make money by lying, cheating and stealing.  Free to treat the rest of the world as America pleases.  But most of all they want you to see things their way and no other way will do.

Today Sarah Palin’s followers are rejoicing that a health care supporting ‘blue dog’ democrat has been gunned down in the name of ‘freedom’.

I am neither surprised or disgusted because this is the American way, this is how Americans do things and will always do things.  Frankly, if they wanted it any other way..the rules would change.  Remember Martin Luther-King, JFK, Harvey Milk..etc. etc.  This is the most violent culture in the world.

If you have the guts and the motivation to assassinate then go right ahead.  Pay the price but go right ahead.  Survival of the fittest.  Manifest destiny.

The murderer is still alive to talk freely about his motivation.  I, and the rest of the world, will be fascinated by his story.  He didn’t bother to kill himself but let’s see if he survives to tell his tale.  He has served his purpose.

He has already been cast as a rogue liberal by the Tea Party…a Marx reading,  Hitler devotee..a loner and an iconoclast…he will be called a great deal more but none of it will be accurate.

(Surprise surprise…when he appeared in court the CNN reporter reported with some amazement that the mass murderer looked ‘normal’ ‘calm’ and ‘cooperative’.  He was not behaving like Charles Manson..he could be any one of our sons.)

Sarah Palin may very well be the next President of the United States, not just because she appeals to the lowest common denominator but because after years of pathetic ‘honorable’ Obama leadership this crazy, intensity addicted, short termist American public craves more drama…like a TV show..or an action movie…

The President of the United States is no longer elected, he is re-cast.

This childish, self-serving society gets the leaders it deserves.  Don’t tell me that it isn’t possible for someone like Sarah Palin to be president…that’s what they said about Hitler..the giggling German intellectuals…that what they said about Adolf Hitler.

If American liberals can’t stand up to these thugs then the rest of the world must.

I am sitting at my architect friend Keith’s house in the most unlikely location – Deptford.  An unruly, charmless, largely destroyed by Nazi bombs area of South East London.   His tiny terraced house a laboratory for the work that has defined his career.

After 10 years of messing about with the house…it is finally finished.

Keith’s Site

We drove to Shoreditch for another wander around the back streets and do a little Christmas shopping.  The shops are heaving with customers.  There is NO evidence of a recession here.  I bought a huge Christmas pudding from St John’s and some great socks.  Everything else that we wanted to buy, like a sweater in All Saints, was irritatingly sold out.

We had lunch at Shoreditch House where I bumped into Robert.  I knew I would.  Very handsome.

Ate gorgeous traditional Sunday roast beef.   Dog in a bag under the table.

Last night Carol and I walked to our local labour politician’s Christmas party.  It is amazing how they, like so many local Whitstable people, read this blog.  I am delighted!  Our host and his wife are good, old-fashioned socialists..the sort McCarthy and now Sarah Palin HATES.

Surely I couldn’t possibly be surrounded by so many devilishly intelligent left wingers who were, like me, excited by the wholly unexpected political reinvigoration of the young we saw last week in London?  This, after so many years of inertia from our traditionally vocal students.

We salute you British students and urge you to continue to daub, poke, shout..etc.  I give you permission to make this government as uncomfortable as you possibly can.

Apparently the mad, bad Duchess of Cornwall was ‘poked with a stick’ by a demonstrator.  It was positively revolutionary!   Tim’s great friend David Gilmour‘s son was photographed hanging off the cenotaph (our national war memorial) great!     Polly and David are very embarrassed, the son, apparently…isn’t.

The Duchess of Cornwall poked with a stick..like something dead in the road.

What else have I been up to?  Good God…the most beautiful man in Wheelers last night.  A cabby from Essex.  29 years old, navy blue eyes and the reddest lips.  I resisted taking his number but I know for sure that once a path is crossed it will cross again.   He was beautiful.  We chatted on Whitstable High Street and you know when a man looks directly into your eyes…you know that feeling.

What else?  Went to local farmer’s market and bought a shoulder of goat for dinner this week.

Keith, when we got home this evening, gave me a pot of Medlar jelly that he made with fruit he found at a friends country house..it had a wonderful taste.  Another strange coincidence ?  Only this week I learned what a medlar was.  Now I have a pot of it.

We ate stilton and delicious Christmas cake made by his boy friend of six years.

Driving to Paris tomorrow to get rid of car as the hospital treatment kicks in on Tuesday.  Can’t say that I am looking forward to it but hey ho.

The house by day is magical.

Jason and Hillary, quite separately, popped by and both brought lunch.  Hillary arrived with a friend’s dog called Willy who decided to pee on everything the moment he came indoors.

Hillary made a delicious gazpacho and Jason brough chevre and smoked salmon.  Three mad brits eating an Enid Blyton lunch in our tree house over looking the ocean.

I ate bread which I bitterly regret having eaten today.  I am bloated and my tummy aches.

The house after dark can be a little noisy.  I lay in the dark listening to the raccoons squabble, the coyote’s howl and the owls hoot.   The little dog had a restless night, so, of course did I.   He was up and down the stairs shouting at anything that disturbed him.  After an hour of this nonsense I closed the windows and he slept peacefully.

It was meant to be in the 100′s all week but by last night in Malibu it was colder than Whitstable.  I am sure the firemen are very happy as there have been so few wild-fire warnings.  Everything is very damp in the morning from the thick mist that rolls off the sea.

Jason left and Hillary and I decided to take the dogs for a long walk along the length of the new road (Rambla Pacifico) that leads to the PCH.  The house is now walkable from the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) and since they started building the Rambla Pacifico extension empty lots are now for sale, lot owners who abandoned their lots 26 years ago are on the mountain with contractors discussing driveways and bedrooms with ocean views.  There is a certain excitement up here which cannot be ignored.

I applaud myself for paying so little for this house.  I just KNEW that one day the road would be built..who knew that it would be so soon?

Apparently I am not the only resident who regularly walks the muddy track which will one day be our new road/life line.  We saw a man armed with shopping bags marching over the hillocks.  Everyone is so impatient to feel less isolated.

It is only a few weeks until the rainy season starts so they must get a move on and finish this project.  The worst that could happen is that heavy rains come before it is finished and all their hard work is washed away.

If only Malibu would buy the road so it can be used by everyone rather than a select few.

Watched TV until midnight…yes there is a TV here and fell into bed.  I watch home improvement shows and laugh gently at how cheap and ill-conceived the ‘improvements’ are.

The Lil Dog was exhausted from running after Willy all day and his long walk but not, apparently,  exhausted enough.

P.S.  The despicable Glenn Beck is holding his reclaim America from anyone who isn’t white rally today in Washington.  For those of you who underestimate the ambition of people like Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin I urge you to take notice of their message.  They are determined to undermine the goodwill and inclusive character of this great country and, my friends, they will succeed just like their right-wing predecessors.  They will use all the usual tactics:  fear mongering, false patriotism and the invocation of their malevolent God.  These men and women are not clowns, we cannot afford to grandly sneer at their absurd antics.  For as the liberal elite laugh in their grotesque faces they are gathering speed.  If we are not very careful it will be soon too late for those of us who believe in freedom to stop them for we were too busy laughing.

One has a moment in life when the horizon comes into view.  Unable to hold onto old ideas we strive to recreate ourselves as perfectly as we can.  I am in Malibu looking over the sea and I am not driven to look at porn nor throw a warm wank blanket over the day.   My American spell check doesn’t recognize the word wank-but you all know what that means don’t you?

I am listening to Joni, her words either fill me full of hope or throw me into a terrible funk-thankfully I am happy today.  There is a cool sea breeze to remind me that the ocean is just there, at the bottom of the hill.  Sadly in the Gulf of Mexico avarice is ruining the water.  More oil, more goddamned oil from which we refuse to wean ourselves.  Sarah Palin has kept remarkably quiet about this environmental disaster that she said could never happen.

I have spent the past few nights with my 18th Century Man and it has been such a delight.  Of course it’s hard not to compare what one had with what one has.  The most significant difference is the proximity.   I will never have a long distance love affair ever again.  I am simply too fragile.

I will never again make the mistake of falling in love with a man who is not available.  I am not the sort of person who can keep a secret, especially when it is steeped in shame.  I have, in the words of my deceased Grandmother, lived a shameless life.  She used the word pejoratively but actually she was right, I have been shameless and I am proud to be so.  My proximity to the toxic shame of others is just as bad as experiencing ones own.

Even though I was born into shame I was a shameless boy.  When I was a shameless boy they tried to tell me that I should be ashamed of who I was, the colour of my skin, my flamboyance, my birth, my teeth, my love, my understandable mistakes.

I hoped that I might meet a beautiful man and I have.  It is wonderful to just experience the spontaneity, to drive to a coffee chop in Venice, to reach out and run your fingers through flaxen hair.

Last night we cooked dinner at his house in Venice with his super cool room-mate who incidentally knows Anna and Gwen and my lesbian art contingent.   The night before we ate dinner at Axe.   Roasted beats, huge chunks of halibut.

Of course I miss talking to that boy in NYC (of course I do) but I am enjoying the simplicity of what I have found here-the eagerness, the delicacy of his touch.  The difference between men.   I have no idea what I miss about what was.  I think it was the rabid intensity that kept me diving into those choppy waters expecting not to be battered by the huge waves.

The moment I have any sort of expectation I am doomed.  I feel battered from the last few months.  Battered by doomed love.  Battered by not knowing.  Battered by resentment.

So, here I am-just as I have always been-on my own but with my eyes wide open.  I have to read the treatment Ms Turner has sent me.  I have to make my peace with writing once again.  Writing and reading.  I have to make peace with myself.

I am fast approaching a huge birthday and don’t really know how to celebrate it.  I dare not ask fifty people for dinner but that’s what I think I would like to do.

On another note I have two sponsees in the 12-step programme I belong to and they give me such joy.  Joy.  Spent Sunday with one of them trying on hats and celebrating his birthday.  The other keeps in touch daily reminding me why I am sober.    It is time to keep the door open on recovery and all that means.

I am really very excited about seeing Mr. Levi Johnston in Playgirl magazine.  Just previewing his phat hairy pits was enough to get the blood rushing to my loins.  He is, after all, the ideal husband.  Dumb, sexy, provocative.

Levi, guilessly picking his way out of a life littered with Christian fundamentalists, arrested drug fucked mommy, republicans, bible study, GOP, McCain, Hannity, Palin praying on her padded knees.  Never looking back.  How effortless was that?  Their snide remarks like water off a sitting ducks back.  He just keeps on moving.  He appears with Kathy Griffin on Larry King (whiskey on her breath and cheap perfume).   He is confident; he never looks askance as the gay man dressed in Kathy Griffin’s old body paws at the young boy with cheap innuendo.  He just sits there patiently for the moose to come then with stealth he just blows us all away.

Levi is my hero.  19 years old.   Giving us exactly what we want when we want it.  Want damning Palin gossip?  He got it.  Wanna hear the truth about Bristol?  He’ll tell you.  Want to see his perfect butt?  He gonna show it.   Oh Levi.  Only in America could you become such a star.   You are the patron saint of US Weekly.  The divinity we non-Christians have been waiting, longing for.  A regular St Sebastian (lite) already smite with arrows.

I think I may be in love with you-and I know that you wouldn’t care.  You are modern enough to realize that me loving you, lusting after you cannot possibly hurt you.  You would spread your cheeks for me as long as I didn’t touch your pink rose bud.  I just know it.  Unlike the puggish, too perfect Taylor Lautner you, my darling, are quietly aware of your masculinity.  Taylor, go fuck yourself.  Levi would whip your bubble butt.  Then rape you Wassilla style with the butt of his rifle.  Oh..maybe not.

Levi..you are a flirt, a seducer, a media sex God.  When you ain’t St Sebastian you are Helen of Troy, when neither of the above you are simply Levi.  The boy who wouldn’t lay down and die.  Refused to be used.  The clean-cut kid who took hold of America and savagely kissed us all with your plump, teenage lips.  Drowning in our lust.   The boy who can’t say no.  The boy we all wanted or wanted to be.

Sarah Palin is praying for you Levi.  I am praying for you.  Your peers are praying that you make a fortune.  That you get the girl.  That you love every second of your fifteen minutes.  After all, you can always go home to Alaska..if everything goes tits up. Your people are Christians folk-they’ll forgive you-they’ll forgive anyone anything as long as you give yourself to Jesus.  It’s in their DNA. It’s the fucking LAW.

I think, yes I am sure..I love you.

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