Archive for January, 2012

Seven People I Wish Weren’t Scientologists

January 31, 2012

In order of how much I wish they weren’t.

7. Anne Archer

She is the sweet brunette mother to Glenn Close’s psychopathic blond stalking opera lover in Fatal Attraction, and I just want to root for her in all things, but I can’t if she is a Scientologist –– and not only is she, but her son, Tommy Davis, is the head spokesperson for the whole shebang.  In the novel-length article on screenwriter Paul Haggis’ defection from the church in The New Yorker, Archer actually sounds reasonable and NICE, and then she goes and does something like “describe Hubbard as ‘an engineer’ who had codified human emotional states, in order to guide people to ‘feel a zest and a love for life.'”

Wait… who am I kidding?  Archer is cool, but the real Fatal Attraction cast member I’m rooting for is the adorably transgendered Ellen.  “RABBITS!”  Whatever happened to that little muffin?

I’m guessing this is when she discovers Glenn Close slaughtered her bunny.

[Digression: ANSWER!  Here’s her bio from IMDB:

“Discovered at an open call at age six, Ellen was chosen from well over a thousand children to play Michael Douglas’s daughter in Fatal Attraction. She continued acting full time until she left for a VT boarding school at age 15. After graduation, Ellen took some time off to travel, and later began studies in glass at an art school in Oakland, CA. Her mother Anne, lives in New Rochelle, NY, her father Bob, step-mother Lorrie, and 10-year old sister Elena live in Roslyn, NY, and her 26-year old sister Amy lives outside Denver, CO. Ellen has little plans to get back into acting, though will always reflect fondly on her past achievements.

According to another website, she is an “account executive” and while she wishes she could be in Show Biz, she has no immediate plans to return to it.  “Plus, it’s kind of cool to be considered a has-been.  And kind of sad, too.”  Spoken like a true burn out.  Remember, Ell, it could have been worse –– you could have tried to clear the difficult puberty hurdle in show business and, in a moment of desperation, visited the Celebrity Center and taken a few courses and before you could blink, you’re rapping about Thetans to your closeted gay husband.]

6. Elisabeth Moss

Like most everyone these days, I enjoy me some Mad Men.  Now of course, it would be much more devastating if Jon Hamm were a lover of Xenu, but it’s still sad that Elisabeth Moss, who plays one of the most interesting and multidimensional characters on the show, is just that.  And it sucks because Moss is just so good as the kind-of-unattractive, dissatisfied but whip-smart copywriter Peggy Olson, and when I think about her talent, I start to wonder if maybe her ability to act has something to do with her faith and then I get the willies and turn off the TV and go shower.  Some other blogger (not worth it) wrote something along the lines of, “It doesn’t change the way I view her or the show” but frankly, I’m either just not that good at compartmentalizing or Scientology is just that toxic that it ruins everything it touches in even the slightest of ways.  So, in the name of enjoying television more, I suggest Moss consider Zen Buddhism.

5. Rita Wilson

I know!  I know!  Crazy, right?  There isn’t much out there on her affiliation, but here’s my proof: a few years ago, my family friend, who works as property master on movie sets, had the privilege to work on the cinematic masterpiece Old Dogs (I think.)  Now, Kelly Preston, a well known Scientologist, is in the movie, and so is Rita.  They were apparently BFFs.  At Christmas dinner the year the movie was being made, my family friend regaled us with a story: one day, they were shooting a scene in which someone was supposed to close a car trunk on Kelly Preston’s hands.  They had somehow rigged it so that there was a gap her hand could fit into so that the door wouldn’t break her fingers, but Kelly didn’t properly gauge her finger placement and so BAM!  Trunk comes down on fingers.

“Now what you may not know about Scientology,” my family friend continued, “is that at a certain high level, they believe they can heal people’s pain by touching or by waving their hands over the wound, and so Rita Wilson comes frantically running up the hill and yells at everyone to BACK OFF and begins waving her hands over Kelly Preston’s fingers and looking deeply into her eyes.”

And this aspect of Scientology has some back-up, also in the (now infamous) Haggis article:

“Brolin says that he once witnessed John Travolta practicing Scientology. Brolin was at a dinner party in Los Angeles with Travolta and Marlon Brando. Brando arrived with a cut on his leg, and explained that he had injured himself while helping a stranded motorist on the Pacific Coast Highway. He was in pain. Travolta offered to help, saying that he had just reached a new level in Scientology. Travolta touched Brando’s leg and Brando closed his eyes. ‘I watched this process going on—it was very physical,’ Brolin recalls. ‘I was thinking, This is really fucking bizarre! Then, after ten minutes, Brando opens his eyes and says, ‘That really helped. I actually feel different!’ ‘ (Travolta, through a lawyer, called this account ‘pure fabrication.’)”

The thing is, Rita Wilson is sort of scarily Botoxed now, and I don’t really care for her all that much, but if she’s a Scientologist that means Tom Hanks is probably a Scientologist, and like everyone else in the world I think he just seems so great and “normal” (the highest compliment one can give a movie star) and like he’s not repressing any homosexual tendencies (NOT THAT THERE’S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT, but if Tom Hanks were gay, I’d just want him to live his tye-dyed-hot-pants reality!)

4. Jason Lee

Just like most brainy and self-conscious adolescent girls growing up in the age of Kevin Smith, I had a minor thing for Jason Lee.  He was always the friend of the token hunk, which I related to as I always had a really hot best friend, and he had a quick wit and a cute little gleam in his eye.  Who could forget his deep and philosophical explanation of rock ‘n roll in Almost Famous while Billy Crudup produces a few head-turning twangs on the guitar in the background and steals William Miller’s attention?   “Some people have a hard time explaining rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t think anyone can really explain rock ‘n’ roll. Maybe Pete Townshend, but that’s okay. Rock ‘n’ roll is a lifestyle and a way of thinking… and it’s not about money and popularity. Although, some money would be nice.”  Lee, desperate to be heard, always the dorky best friend.  A tragic figure, really.   Unfortunately for me, I think I may have fucked up this list –– I forgot Lee starred in My Name is Earl for four years (!!!)  He and Elisabeth Moss should definitely switch spots.

3. L. Ron Hubbard

I mean, honestly, the guy was a fucking genius –– how many people can make statements like, “The money isn’t in writing books, it’s in starting religions” and afterward CONTINUE to attract followers and make money?  Fucking ridiculous.

2. Beck

This one’s a no brainer.  Everyone’s still and constantly brokenhearted over this poor virtuoso, probably the single person on this list you could say was “cool,” and the only consolation we seem to have is that he was raised a Scientologist (mom was Warhol star Bibbe Hansen, dad Canadian musician David Campbell), may have attended a Scientology-run elementary school, and thus didn’t have much of a chance.  Beck has only once really gone on record about his involvement with Scientology (New York Times, 2005, in which the journalist writes that he’s so aggravatingly polite “his courtesy acts like a moat”) and he did so in such an incredibly ineloquent way, but again, we’ll excuse it as sometimes savants lack skills outside their chosen fields.  Regardless of your past, Beck, hear this: you’re the one we want the most!

Although your mom seems pretty cool, too…

Andy Warhol, Edie Sedgwick and Bibbe at Max’s Kansas City, 1965. I never get to do anything cool.

And finally…

1. Jett Travolta

For his sake.

Too soon?

Little Sunday Pep Talk

January 30, 2012

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening

that is translated through you into action,

and because there is only one of you in all time,

this expression is unique.


If you block it,

it will never exist through any other medium

and be lost.

The world will not have it.

It is not your business to determine how good it is;

nor how valuable it is;

nor how it compares with other expressions.

It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly,

to keep the channel open.


You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work.

You have to keep open and aware directly

to the urges that motivate you.


Keep the channel open.

No artist is pleased.

There is no satisfaction whatever at any time.

There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction;

a blessed unrest that keeps us marching

and makes us more alive than the others.”

Martha Graham to Agnes DeMille, 1943

The Best “Out of Office” Message Ever

January 27, 2012

“I will be in India on a pilgrimage in the Buddha’s footsteps until February 12.  Please forgive me if I delay in responding.”


Why Don’t I Have This?

January 27, 2012

Blogs, as most people know, are places where people act out their fantasies.  “I wish everyone would listen to me” –– with a blog, you can imagine a captive audience.  “I wish I could go traveling to super exotic places all the time” –– DesignTripper.  “I wish I looked and dressed like a celebrity” –– Who What Wear.  “I wish someone would recognize my curatorial talents” –– any and all tumblrs.  “I wish I were a powerful street evangelist whose voice booms through the masses like the wrath of God” –– The Way of the Master.  And then me, wishing people would buy me shit I like, tell me all my conspiracy theories are oh wow, that is brilliant, and my riffs on Scientology and “exhaustion” are hilarious.  In that vein:

Little Eye by Stephanie Simek

Why don’t I have this?  I’ve wanted it for like, two years.  I’ve told multiple people that I covet this necklace.  It’s so cute, and a little creepy –– just like I like ’em.  Maybe I can do something like find ADVERTISERS and do a “Free Give Away!” thing every Thursday –– with all the free trinkets going to yours truly.  What, you think you’d be the winner?  Oh please.

*For some reason, the links aren’t working.  Just Google if you’re interested in DesignTripper or Kirk Cameron’s second career.

Sartorial Dilemma

January 26, 2012

JK from Brooklyn writes:

“What does one wear to a shanty town?”

Some background: J is departing tomorrow to visit a shanty town in South Africa.  See visual aid below.

That's my house on the right.

And so JK has come to me, queen of odd clothing dilemmas (what do I wear to meet a guru?  To attend an ancient, barbaric Jewish ritual in which you swing live chickens over your head?  To stalk an aging miniature poet and endear yourself to him?) to ask for my advice.  Well, first questions first: weather.  Looks like the next few days in South Africa are going to be high seventies/low eighties with a chance of rain and mildly repressed racism.  In that case, I would recommend the following:

Grubby sneakers or work boots (open-toed shoes = dirty feet)

short sleeved white shirts, linen white button downs

slouchy hippie pants of some sort –– not fancy bougie harem pants but something one might have worn to a Phish show in high school when you were into that (not me!)

maybe a head scarf or bandana (check to make sure certain colors don’t mean allegiances to certain shanty gangs)

little to no jewelry whatsoever

ray-bans, or other aviators, that say, “I’m one of those people who cares about the world but also enough about myself to maintain a stylish appearance.”

a saintly aura with a streak of creativeness


Other than the ray-bans, all clothing should be earth-toned –– beige, brown, ecru, etc.  I would say challenge yourself to pack as few items as possible.  AND IN THE NAME OF GOD, NO PASTELS!

Texts from Last Night

January 26, 2012

8:31 PM     RG: Spotted: hipster midget with normal sized bike

Whatever Wednesday

January 26, 2012
ID: feels like thursday i think
CA: omg yes it does
i have been dreading a meeting all day, and its actually tomorrow
ID: well… that’s good
or bad… cause you have to wait anxiously?
CA: no, so much better
i couldnt possibly be more hungover right now
no way i could be articulate in that meeting right now
typing emails is enough of a challenge
ID: oh nooooo!
that is the worst
i know people say that all the time
“that’s the worst!”
but actually being hungover at work is really THE WORST
CA: i can usually deal, but today is roughhhhhhhhhh
ID: was last night fun?
CA: so fun
im supposed to be “taking it easy” this week
so obviously i raged extra hard
my friend was dj-ing at a bar in the east village
ID: why were you supposed to take it so easy?
CA: ive just been on a 24/7 no sleep constant whisky party binge in 2012
i dont know what my deal is
it’s like perpetual spring break, high school style
except i have a job
ID: major bummer
total in cramp in one’s style
CA: i like that sentence
“total in cramp in one’s style”
ID: oops
first “in” not supposed to be there
but sure
CA: everything is funny right now
im gonna tweet that
ID: i know that level of hungover
in which everything is funny
and then also, you are funnier
because you don’t have the strength to censor yourself
CA: ok, i have to send you a picture text
do you get those on yr brick?
ID: yes
CA: ok its important

Text that accompanied picture: "This happened last night. Never been hit on so subtly at Papaya Dog at 3 AM."

can you email from your phone?
CA: i dont know how, but i want to
ID: i don’t know how either
was the person hitting on you cute?
CA: like, waiting drunkenly for the L train eating a sexy hot dog
ID: hahahahaha
CA: not at all. also my roommate and i are both mostly dykes, so it was even better.
barking up the wrong papaya dog*
*see standard disclaimer re: gchats

The Most Titillating Thing I’ve Ever Read

January 25, 2012

The synopsis of Monday night’s Intervention, which I will be watching tonight:

“A woman who lives in an extravagant mansion contends with alcohol addiction and a boyfriend who believes that locking her in a closet will prevent her from drinking.”

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!  This is going to be Laney “drives across the country in a limo so she can hang out with her cat Puttentat Ashworth” The Alkie ALL OVER AGAIN!


January 25, 2012

It’s upsetting to me that I have to say this as it’s so incredibly obvious, but to celebrities/the Hollywood machine: FYI, “exhaustion” is not a diagnosis.  A person cannot be hospitalized or “treated” for it.  If a normal person (or anyone, for that matter) went to the ER and claimed he/she was “exhausted,” the doctor on call would advise them to take a fucking nap.  It is quite apparent to everyone that when you or your client are “hospitalized” for “exhaustion,” you or they are either in rehab or at home cooking up some cough syrup/gasoline concoction.  Your options, as I see it, are either to admit to a problem with the rock, or to lie.  “Pneumonia” is good cover-up, as is anything relating to digestive issues (people don’t want to hear a thing about issues of that particular bodily canal.)  For more information and to request the second edition of The Excuse Handbook, please contact me at  Thank you, and we appreciate your effort to help make the society we live in a less shifty and moronic one.

Our House

January 24, 2012

His and hers

Would you move here with me, my sweet?  You can have the white house –– I’m small, and not greedy –– but whenever you like you can walk across the bridge to my blue house.  I’ll make you eggs and tea when you come visit; I’ll hug you and tell you over and over again that you are magnificent.  I’ll read you stories, and let you nap as long as you like.  If you let me, I’ll come visit you, too, and bring my cat and a picnic.  Things will be lovely at our house.