Last night, I went with a sixteen-some of friends to see the Aristocrats. (There is a pretty good review in Salon.) Y'all know what it's about, right? A whole bunch of comedians talking about and telling the same old and extremely dirty joke in their own unique ways? Last night, a couple people (that I saw, anyway) walked out, and the rest of us were alternately dying laughing and making disgusted noises, all in different places. Kind of shows why the line of "decency" shouldn't be made too clear--everyone has different ideas of what constitutes decent and indecent. And it was wonderful to see such a diverse group of comedians, and to hear women get just as nasty as the men.
The one thing I think everyone in my group agreed on is that Bob Saget was shockingly, blatantly nasty--and shockingly, blatantly *funny*! We all want to see another series of his, directed by Paul Provenza and Penn Jillette, because they brought out some interesting things in him. (Some a bit *too* interesting--one of my friends said it was something like seeing your former Boy Scout master not only in a strip club, but getting thrown out for offensive behavior.)
Another friend, who came from a small town in Georgia (reminds me of Annie T-B!), said she loved being able to see "interesting movies like this before everyone else gets to." And you know, so do I. In Orlando, we were (and they are) usually in, like, the second or third wave of releases. I love that I can tell my friends and relatives back home about the Aristocrats and March of the Penguins and Murderball before they can see it.
L'Ailee didn't go with us. For one thing, she works super-hard on Friday--five classes! But really, it's because she's basically prissy as hell when it comes down to it, a shy little nerd-girl in that badass, gym-conditioned, shaved and tattooed body. It's so sweet, though I can't resist getting her all torqued up. Her best friend and I will, like, compete to see who can get her blushing, moaning, and covering her face. She doesn't understand that it's rewarding, and I don't understand why, but it is. However, her best friend and I can't tell filthy jokes like the professionals, as we discovered last night. I understood why she wouldn't want to go, and didn't press the issue.
Penn Jillette would probably approve. In the new Entertainment Weekly, there is an article about it: "When somebody says to Jillette, 'I want to bring so-and-so to the Aristocrats because it'll freak them out,' Jillette pleads with them. 'Don't bother!' he says. 'You've got friends who are going to love it! Bring *them*!'"
Which sort of reminds me of why I've kept that painting logo up for the moment. Between the Aristocrats and a spat on the Sweet Potato Queens' Message Board of Love about how vulgar it's all gotten (which sort of upset me because I'm a newbie), I'm thinking about the meaning of obscenity and vulgarity anyway. The painting serves as sort of a visual warning--"If this offends you, think of what the words might do and click on *out*." I myself appreciate it on all kinds of levels. It's not just the second-most beautiful woman in the world with a very nice and artistically naked back porch; it's lovely all over, and rich in symbolism and layers upon layers of history. (You may find that the pose looks familiar, for example; that's because it was modeled after another painting.) But some people will just screech, "Oh, a naked woman, that's terrible!" Let them, I say. The ones who get that the painting is beautiful and bad words are meant for bad things and women love each other in all kinds of ways and hormones affect one's mood and people get pissed off, well, those are the ones I write for. There are places and people for which I am willing to edit myself. This is not one of them.
L'Ailee was all rested up today, and she wanted to "go out and do something." We went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We saw such beautiful things! I gave y'all the link to click on just to give you a sample. I learned that Matisse was inspired by fabrics. Matisse art is always bright and beautiful, and it makes me happy just to look at it. So did all the bright colors and abstract shapes of Sol Lewitt's sculpture. L'Ailee rapturously and reverently approached the exhibit of Chanel's designs, which I enjoyed more for the way *she* looked, looking at it. I can understand what she means about laughing at my laughter rather than the joke now.
Tonight I'm just so glad I moved up here. I used to tell her that Orlando does too have culture, and you know, it does. But NYC offers something different altogether. I even knew it before I moved here for good, but now I can admit it.