Friday, 9 December 2016

Embrace the good things in life; come on and dance with me

Oh, how I love getting to the end of a week...

It's the centenary today of Kirk Douglas (eternally immortalised as Spartacus).

It is also the 50th birthday of "professional kook" Sinéad O'Connor.

However, as the weekend hoves into view and all thoughts traditionally turn to glitter, sequins, boob-tubes, lurex and really odd hair, let us instead pay homage to another recent arrival at that half-century-milestone (on 28th November), Miss Stacy Lattisaw!

She is forever Jumping to the Beat, and we should too - and Thank Disco It's Friday!

Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me
Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me

You're unsurpassed in style
The price you paid was dear
You make the moves come alive
Yet movements dance with fear

Your speciality's lonely nights
As you and pride compete
Neglect the pain you hide
Come on and dance with me

Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me
Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me, yeah

Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me
Won't you dance with me
Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me

You'd rather dance alone
When love steps too near
Communicate with me
Your doubts will disappear

If it's love you're searchin' for
There's plenty love in me
Embrace the good things in life
Come on and dance with me.

Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me
Come on and jump to the beat (jump)
Come on and dance with me, uh-uh-uh

And tomorrow we have the gathering of the clans for yet another forthcoming semi-centenarian - with a real, genuine, 100% Disco-themed party at which this will be played (I ought to know, I put together the playlist!) - our Sally, so there's extra reason to really "make the moves come alive"...

Have a faboo weekend, dear reader! We will.

Thursday, 8 December 2016

We’re all clinging to a rock

“It feels like the mainstream has been hijacked by hit-makers, people who are really good at writing songs that all drop in the right places, they’re all pleasant, but there’s not many people who really give of themselves, if you know what I mean. When I was 19, there was still the mystery of rock’n’roll, there was still the wizard behind the curtain. Kids now, they know how to make records, they know where to get their clothes. They don’t have to walk to Deptford High Street to look at the platform shoes in the window, they can go online and get them from Asos, whereas we had to dream about it: is this possible? Now, it’s like: ‘Yeah, you can be famous, you get on this show, you do that, you do this,’ but I think the thing is, I don’t think it necessarily means that much. I’m glad I had that exciting first part of my career in a decade when you could make a cultural difference of sorts, you know?

"...I’ve always been positive. I wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t. I think you’re always who you are, but life distracts you, particularly because of fame – everybody treats you different, therefore you end up with a distorted idea of who you are. Don’t you think that life’s about growing into yourself in a funny kind of way? You’re looking for answers and I think as you get older, you realise there aren’t really answers. You just have to kind of get on with it. Life is kind of like clinging to a rock, isn’t it? We’re all clinging to a rock, and some people have got a better grip than others. Some people look bedraggled, and other people look like Jerry Hall dressed as mermaid on that Roxy Music album cover.”
Boy George, interviewed by Alexis Petridis for The Guardian.

Don't put your head on my shoulder
Sink me in a river of tears
This could be the best place yet
But you must overcome your fears
In time we could've been so much more
But time is precious I know
In time we could've been so much more
The time has nothing to show
Time won't give me time
And time makes lovers feel
Like they've got something real
But you and me we know
We got nothing
but time

Wednesday, 7 December 2016

Plucky little Malta!

From the BBC:
Malta has become the first European country to ban gay conversion therapy.

The bill against the practice, which aims to "cure" a non-heterosexual person of their sexuality, was voted through unanimously.

Under the new law, anyone who tries to "change, repress or eliminate a person's sexual orientation, gender identity and/or gender expression" will be fined or even jailed.

Professionals will face heftier fines of up to 10,000 euros (£8,450/$10,700).

They could also be jailed for up to a year, according to Malta Today.

The bill also enshrines in law that "no sexual orientation, gender identity or gender expression constitutes a disorder, disease or shortcoming of any sort".

Malta was named the best European country for LGBT rights by advocacy group ILGA-Europe in 2015.
To celebrate, how about the Maltese Eurovision Song Contest entry from 2012? It may not have ranked very highly in the official scores, but on the night itself our gang voted it in at sixth place in our "chart". Here's Kurt Calleja and This is the Night...

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

Be warned!

A salutory tale from Dangerous Minds:
He was young and handsome, his mother’s pride and joy - but he died in torment, blind, sick and paralysed - at the age of seventeen. If only he’d known the perils of masturbation, then he might have lived a better life.
This, in a nutshell, was the warning to young French men as published in Le livre sans titre (“The Book With No Title”) in 1830. At that time, masturbation was considered by moralists and physicians as a malady which lead to early death.

In 1716, Dr. Balthazar Bekker published a pamphlet on this “heinous sin” of “self-pollution” entitled Onania, which cautioned the reader self-abuse would lead to:
Disturbances of the stomach and digestion, loss of appetite or ravenous hunger, vomiting, nausea, weakening of the organs of breathing, coughing, hoarseness, paralysis, weakening of the organ of generation to the point of impotence, lack of libido, back pain, disorders of the eye and ear, total diminution of bodily powers, paleness, thinness, pimples on the face, decline of intellectual powers, loss of memory, attacks of rage, madness, idiocy, epilepsy, fever and finally suicide.
Then in A Medicinal Dictionary of 1745, Dr. Robert James stated that onanism was responsible for “the most deplorable and generally incurable disorders.”

Another medical book L’Onanisme by physician Samuel-Auguste Tissot claimed semen was an essential body oil - which when wasted through masturbation caused:
....a perceptible reduction of strength, of memory and even of reason; blurred vision, all the nervous disorders, all types of gout and rheumatism, weakening of the organs of generation, blood in the urine, disturbance of the appetite, headaches and a great number of other disorders.
These men weren’t quacks, either - they were highly eminent and respectable scientists working in the Age of Enlightenment. It is hardly surprising that these seemingly informed and scientific views should become so ubiquitous in the 19th century that they could end up as the cautionary tale of Le livre sans titre.
So stop doing it. Stop it now!

Monday, 5 December 2016

Seasonal Turkey

It's a frozen, grey scene out there this morning, and I really am not looking forward to venturing out into it to crawl to work.

Let's cheer ourselves up a little on this Tacky Music Monday, in the glittering be-quiffed world of the faboo Zeki Müren ("Turkey's answer to Liberace", and my first ever "exhibit" in the Dolores Delargo Towers Museum of Camp six years ago)!

Ah bu şarkıların gözü kör olsun. Apparently.

Zeki Müren (6th December 1931 - 24th September 1996)

Have a good week, chaps and chapesses...

Sunday, 4 December 2016

We're all Sugar Plum Fairies now

In complete contrast to Thursday's anarchic cabaret courtesy of Miss Eve Ferret, Hils, Crog and I had a far more conventional evening last night - as we once more gathered in the Baroque surroundings of St John's, Smith Square for an orchestral rendition of Tchaikovsky's seasonal classic ballet score The Nutcracker by the Fulham Symphony Orchestra.

It is a marvellous suite of music in its own right - despite the lack of visual stimulus afforded by the ballet version - and contains a number of familiar vignettes. The FSO played the entire suite, brilliantly. However, their efforts are not to be found out there on the interwebs, so instead here are some extracts played by a variety of other orchestras...

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy (here by the Cologne New Philharmonic):

Waltz of the Flowers (Berliner Philharmoniker):

March of the Toy Soldiers (Moscow Symphony Orchestra):

Dance Of The Mirlitons (Israel Philharmonic Orchestra):

With vocal bits provided by the Chorus of the Fulham Camerata Consort and the PMF Children’s Choir, the superb playing, and the glorious surroundings, this was indeed a rather magical night.

Fulham Symphony Orchestra

St John's, Smith Square

Saturday, 3 December 2016

Welcome to the Diva's tea party again

A host of fellow former "Blitz Kids" (including Pinkietessa) were there, as was Polari regular Simon (without Bryanne), the "Whos" were out in force - former DJ at (our log-gone gay haunt) BarCode, writer and scandalous bon vivant Stewart Who and his sister - and the place was packed with friends, fans, arty types, and the generally bemused... could only be a show by the very lovely Eve Ferret [once described in a review as “A gutsy old bird with knockers like two ostrich eggs in a hammock!”], couldn't it?!

And so it was that Paul, John-John and I ventured to territories new, the Sanctum Soho Hotel (a venue famous for styling itself as "rock star chic") on Thursday - for what Eve billed as her "Fabaret" show "The Hungry Whelk"! As ever, Miss Ferret did not disappoint...

A marked change from her large-scale Arts Theatre shows (we've been to see four - see here, here, here and here), Eve nonetheless managed to cram in all of her more (ahem) interactive turns into this rather more intimate cabaret space - including the throwing of mangetout into the audience and her now-famous "crowd-surf" (by proxy of a doll, of course) - as well as treating us to a customarily bizarre mixture of musical numbers, everything from Little Donkey (well, 'tis the season) to This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us to a selection of vulgar reggae numbers to her own pithy Congratulations, You Got Me.

All our faves were there - including the Peignoir Song, Last Night's Paté and Divas' Tea Party - and much, much, more. We adored it. The audience gave her rapturous applause. Once again, Eve Ferret proved herself to be one of the most entertaining cabaret artistes on the circuit - there really is no-one else like her!

Here is the lady herself with one of her more autobiographical numbers - Pimlico Belle

Eve Ferret official website