Environment (Fuck Yeah!)

After attending an October screening of “Planet in Peril,” CNN’s four-hour long documentary on the state of the environment, I was struck by two distinct ideas. First, the current decimation of the earth’s natural resources is far greater than most people know. Mass animal extinction, deforestation and frightening, climatic change are happening on every continent, People in every country and economic strata are being poisoned by chemical and industrial waste. The air we breathe and the water we drink are unhealthful or in short supply all over the globe. This isn’t some scary future scenario. This is happening right now — and it’s just the tip of those icebergs that are already melting with a rapidity previously envisioned only for much later in the century

Oh yeah, and humans are clearly to blame.

At this point, we’ve caused so much destruction that it should be illegal to drive SUVs, use plastic or paper bags, build new homes without solar panels, plant lawns in the desert, or create more complex, plastic packaging for chewing gum. And frankly, anyone who is still unsure about how the afore-mentioned items affect the degradation of our earth needs to quickly drive their Hummers across its flat surface and then continue right over the edge. Because they, like the dinosaurs, have outlived their usefulness and it’s time to get out of the way in order for those who have been paying attention to make some changes.

Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. Before now, the majority of Americans — those who reputedly get their news solely from television — have probably not seen anything like CNN’s state-of-the-earth report. Maybe after years of listening to the agenda of an oil-industry-friendly administration, one that has done its utmost to squelch the dissemination any real information about the costs and consequences of global warming, it’s not surprising that people still think it’s okay to drive cars that get only nine miles to the gallon.

But it’s not. So, to sum up: the planet is dying. It affects you adversely. You helped cause this and you should try to help stop it, right now. You need to turn off the lights you’re not using, walk sometimes, not buy a bunch of plastic gewgaws imported from China that you don’t need anyway and, for God’s sake, stop taking up so much room. Also, next time an environmentalist runs for president against a draft dodger — choose the tree-hugger.

The second impression this documentary leaves the viewer with is that CNN’s role as a cultivator of personality over information has finally rendered this once venerable network almost unwatchable. With its three hosts, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper, chief medical correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta, and Animal Planet’s Jeff Corwin, “Planet in Peril” is a perfect example of the misguided style of reporting the cable network favors, in which the on-air personalities dominate every frame and every event while the news takes a back seat. It’s sad enough to watch anchors emoting through the events of the day during the nightly shows. But this burlesque of Broadcast News becomes downright offensive when the information being conveyed is much more vital than another shot of O.J. Simpson taking a perp walk.

Anderson Cooper and to a lesser extent Dr. Sanjay Gupta, are so omnipresent in their segments, prancing through polluted backdrops in their sporty, safari clothes and mugging for the camera, that the endangered places, people and species they cover become secondary to the enterprise. Viewers are treated to the adventures of Cooper as he spots his first wild wolf in Yellowstone, works up his nerve to take the plunge into an ice crevice in Greenland and tracks tiger poachers in Cambodia. Gupta keeps all eyes riveted to his chiseled face while his car gets stuck in an African sand dune or when he orders (gasp) penis sushi at a Chinese restaurant. He can’t even back off from his close-ups during a scene in which he compels a widow, whose husband died from environmentally-induced cancer, to cry over her loss. The only thing missing from this silly production is a Team America-like theme song playing in the background. “Environment, fuck yeah!”

Largely exempt from “Planet in Peril’s” theatrical posturing is the third host, Animal Planet’s Jeff Corwin. Corwin, in this instance, is notably capable of putting the work of reporting before his need to share another shot of his twinkling eyes, crinkled with concern. That this wildlife biologist is able to give up some of his face time in order to allow the camera to linger on a lemur or a polar bear — you know, the actual subjects of this program — is because he’s the only one of the three who seems to genuinely like the planet and the creatures on it. In fact, at the screening I attended, where all three hosts made an appearance, Cooper quipped that he hoped they wouldn’t have to make a program like this again because, “I don’t even like nature.”

“Planet in Peril,” to its credit, is full of crucial information about the global crisis. However, its melodramatic, personality-centric packaging diminishes that message. In the end, it’s better than nothing. But if CNN really wanted to help save the planet, rather than promote network stars, they could have edited out the close-ups, presented this information in half the time and given Americans a couple of hours during which to turn off their TVs and save some electricity. How’s that for a carbon offset?�

Death of a Newspaper

When the small newspaper chain for which I currently work, goes kaput, I will not be surprised. I will be a little sorry, a little sad, a little upset if I'm left without a job, but I will not be surprised. In fact, I would be more surprised if the business survived than failed.

My lack of confidence in the future of this business is due, in part, to my pessimism about the future of the entire newspaper business. During the past 10 years, daily, weekly and monthly papers have been bought and sold like cheap whores. Many of these publications, like the Los Angeles Times, were once proud, respected institutions. However, formerly great or not, the Internet has taken a bite out of publishers' advertising dollars with a ruthlessness that has been too substantial for the industry to weather.

The papers that are not sold are shut down. That is what I expect will happen to our little chain. I can't predict how soon it will happen. But, due to pressures internal and external it is marked for failure. It's like the American economy in microcosm. No matter how much money Alan Greenspan flooded the system with, he couldn't keep the real estate implosion away forever -- actually he kept it away long enough to beat a hasty retreat so he didn't have to deal with it on his own watch.

Too bad we can't print money instead of news.

DESPERATE HOUSECATS

My cat Percy has hyperthyroidism. And she’s not alone. According to scientists at the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), there is an epidemic of thyroid disease raging throughout America’s cat population. It's caused by exposure to toxic flame retardants found in many household products and some cat food.

Thyroid disease in cats was rare until the 1980s, when large amounts of polybrominated diphenyl ethers (PDBEs) began to be used in the manufacture of products like electronics, furniture cushions, mattresses and the padding under carpets — you know, pretty much everything in your house. Cats in California were the first to come down with the disease in droves because our fair state has the strictest mandates for fire-retardant furniture.

What’s great for firemen, it turns out, is not so great for indoor felines who are exposed all day to the dust created by treated fabrics and appliances. Plus, if those cats are also being fed wet food made from fish, they are at even greater risk for this illness. That's because, like all toxic things, PCBEs flow gently to the sea to fuse with all life in their path.

Hyperthyroidism in cats is a serious condition that causes the animal’s heart to race ceaselessly. Left untreated, it leads to premature death. Symptoms include weight loss that occurs despite consistent feeding, agitation and changes in the cat’s voice. If kitty’s soothing little trill has changed to a nasty meowl, it’s time for a trip to the veterinarian.

While Americans love their pets to ridiculous excess and want them to live long, healthy lives, the real concern for the EPA is that household PDBEs pose a health danger to humans. These toxic chemicals have been building up in the environment, in wildlife, in the oceans and inside people’s bodies for several decades. If what has happened to cats, whose exposure has been higher than their owners’, relative to their size, correlates to the human condition — as the EPA fears — then we may yet be in for a heart-pounding, toxic surprise — one we can’t even blame on the Chinese.

Or can we?

FOWL MESSAGES

They’re fucking with eggs again. Yes, those versatile, delicious, protein-packed little nuggets that come from chickens are under attack. But unlike the assault by the ersatz-nutrition industry during the 1970s — that equated over-easy with overly-hard arteries and left poultry farmers with yolk on their faces — today it’s the advertising industry that’s turning this almost-perfect food into something distasteful.

This week CBS announced that it had hired a company called EggFusion to begin laser-imprinting advertising onto the pristine shells of eggs. Now, when you make that omelet or soufflé, you’ll be forced to read some idiotic, punny message like: “CSI - Crack the Case on CBS” or “The Amazing Race - Scramble to Win on CBS.”

Americans are already so inundated with advertising that it is impossible to make it though a day without having a logo imprinted upon one's unconscious. I’m not talking about traditional ads, like those found in publications or on billboards. I’m talking about entire buildings and vehicles covered with printed Mylar messages. I’m talking about product placements in every movie and TV show. I’m talking about the fifteen minutes of commercials one pays to see before watching a film in a multi-plex. I’m talking about urinals, kindergarteners’ milk cartons and even one’s clothing covered with inescapable messages to consume ever more.

Food — at least, once it’s taken out of its packaging — has been one of the last refuges from advertising. But EggFusion and CBS have put an end to that. And, if that isn’t enough to make one want to barf, US Airways also announced this week that it would begin printing advertising on its airsickness bags.

Where does it end? Will we soon see ads on the skins of fruits and vegetables — or do obese Americans not eat enough healthy food to make that venue worthwhile? How about media messages on toilet paper? That’s a blank surface no one’s staked a claim to yet. NBC could take the initiative and print little witticisms like “Same old shit, different night,” or “Must Pee TV,” and place them in every crapper in the country.

Unless we’re ready to see the Statue of Liberty sporting a Nike swoosh, or the Golden Gate Bridge covered with photos of Jessica Simpson ass in cut-offs, it’s time to put an end to marketers’ power to transform everything from our landscape to our breakfasts into advertising. Since the only thing that works to change the way American companies do business is to hurt them financially, I say, it’s time to boycott eggs and those who have turned them into marketing tools. If A&P stores — where the first of this eggvertising will appear — EggFusion, CBS and farmers across the country see that their intrusive messages, not only don’t work, but are eliciting a negative response, then maybe they’ll get their slimy paws off of our food.

Today it's eggs. Tomorrow it could be the sidewalk in front of your house that's relentlessly urging you to buy something. Reject the assault. Reject the eggs. And, most of all, tell CBS to fuck off.

Here's another one Fake Gay News didn't use.

Pat Robertson Blames Global Warming on Hot Air from Lesbian Talk Shows

During his 700 Club broadcast last Sunday, televangelist Pat Robertson told followers that proliferation of lesbian talk shows was the real cause of global warming.

“All those Ellens and Rosies on TV with their endless talk, talk, talk, are emitting harmful hot air into an already overheated atmosphere. And I predict that as soon as O’Donnell joins The View, Americans will feel the wrath of God in ways that make Hurricane Katrina look like a walk in the park.”

Robertson, like many powerful leaders from the Christian right, has, until now, agreed with the Bush administration on its stance that “the jury was still out” on the causes of global warming, and could not be credibly attributed to human interference. But in this startling turn-around he admitted, “I now firmly believe that people are the cause of the greenhouse effect and all its manifestations from polar meltdowns to freak storms. Not because good, Christian families exercise their God-given right to burn one gallon of gas for every ten miles they drive in their SUVs, but because gays just won’t stop the witty banter.”

Standing in front of a graphic illustrating hurricane activity during the last four decades Robertson said. “It’s clear that the frequency and severity of storms rose dramatically in the mid-1990s. And it’s no coincidence that this was the very time frame during which lesbian Rosie O’Donnell was hosting her daytime program. And don’t get me started on Ellen’s dancing. Talk is cheap, but aerobic activity really makes my blood — and God’s — boil.”

Don Righwood, a spokesperson from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration could not confirm the science behind Robertson’s theory. “As far as we can tell,” said Rightwood, “Paul Lynde and Charles Nelson Reilly spent years chatting up Merv Griffin and it never caused even one gloomy day — much less a category four hurricane.”

Still, Roberston, long noted for his thoughtful rhetoric — like when he called for the assassination of Venezuelan president Hugo Chávez or claimed to be able to leg press 2,000 lbs.— is not shaken by government statistics. “Science scmience,” he responded. “If we listened to scientists we’d all believe in evolution or that the earth was round. Sheesh!”

Robertson further admonished his flock for pushing the ratings of lesbian television programs into Emmy-winning territory. “Sure they seem like nice women. Sure they like children and care about the state of the world. Sure, they’re entertaining. But, that’s not what matters. What matters is that every time you tune into one of their shows, you’re not watching me. And if my ratings go down, there will surely be hell to pay.”

FAKE GAY NEWS

Recently, I began writing for the satirical website Fake Gay News. It’s based on The Onion’s model, only written by lesbians about GLBT issues. (This constrains the humor, but we do our best). Within two weeks after starting, Erosion Media, the company that owns Fake Gay News and sister sites After Ellen and After Elton, was sold to Logo, the gay cable station. Logo, itself, is owned by corporate media behemoth, Viacom. So, it looks like I’m writing for Viacom, which will really spiff-up my resume.

It’s intriguing to see which of my stories FGN will post, and which get rejected. For instance, they liked one about how children raised by same sex couples were just as unruly as children from straight homes. However, they did not post one about “dolphin safe” underwear. I suspect that some of the stories they reject are just not that funny. It wouldn't be the first time I'm the only one laughing at my jokes.

Still, in the interest of science, I will be posting my rejects here.


New ‘Dolphin Safe’ Garment Line Accidentally Swells Lesbian Ranks Nationwide

What started as a conversation between one lesbian and her hot, bi-curious, college roommate has turned into an inadvertent new wave of lesbian recruitment the magnitude of which has not been seen since toaster ovens were first offered to new converts.

“There we were, sitting on my bed. I’d lighted some candles and was pretending to help her study for her women’s history exam,” explained Annette Klondike. “Well, one thing led to another. Then, just as we were rounding third base, she stopped dead in her tracks and asked, “Is it safe?”

It’s a familiar question to many lesbians who grew up in an era in which mothers would not let their children touch a tuna salad sandwich unless the can from which it was made had a perky dolphin on the label.

“At first I thought she was talking about STDs. Then it dawned on me that what she really meant was that if it smells like fish, it needs a seal of approval,” said Klondike of the “ah-ha” moment from which “Dolphin Safe” lesbian underwear was born.

The line of bikinis, thongs and boxer shorts designed and sold by Klondike’s Something’s Fishy label — featuring a familiar smiling dolphin, and the word “safe” silk-screened onto the crotch — began in her dorm room that semester. After selling out her first run of 100 pairs by word-of-mouth, she opened an e-shop on the Internet two years ago and began selling the undies in earnest.

Business was brisk from the beginning, but what really astonished Klondike were the letters she began receiving from customers.

One such missive, from the thousands she receives, expresses a recurring sentiment: “I was sitting on the fence about this gay thing because I wasn’t sure if any animals would be harmed by my urges. But, once I saw that happy dolphin peeking out at me, I knew I what I was about to do was, not only right for me as a person, but right for the planet, too.”

In addition to letters from new converts, she receives many notes of gratitude from dyed-in-the-wool lesbians who tell her that her products have allowed them to score with women they once thought untouchable.

Most surprising, is that her panty line has been responsible for a new boom of conversions to the ranks of lesbians nationwide. Membership in PFLAG, GLADD, the Lesbian Avengers, Dykes on Bikes and other GLBT organizations has doubled since The Gap began selling the Something’s Fishy line in their retail stores last November.

PFLAG spokesperson Betty DeGeneres recently admitted that there was only so much her daughter could do on her own. “Yes, our organization was inundated with new members after my daughter came out on national TV. Everyone wants to identify with someone rich and famous. However, Annette’s tasteful line of undergarments has made coming-out a green alternative, and one that everybody can swallow — hook, line and sinker,” she quipped.

Cities across the country are already wondering how they will accommodate the extra visitors to GLBT Pride celebrations in June. San Francisco’s mayor, Gavin Newsom, says that, in addition to shutting down the Castro neighborhood and the downtown parade route, he’s planning to rope off most of Chinatown, the Mission, North Beach, the Wharf and SOMA to contain the overflow. “It’s always great to host a Pride celebration. But, with all the additional women this year, I’m a little worried. What if their periods synch-up?”

None of this is a problem to Klondike, who is currently finalizing a deal to sell her products in Target stores. With this new distribution contract, she said, she hopes to achieve the kind of penetration that has eluded her in the past.

And what happened to that sexy roommate whose hesitation began this lesbian juggernaut?

“You know how it goes,” Annette said. “She ended up with my ex and they’re trying to get pregnant. But it’s got me thinking about Underoos.”

THE NIGHT OF A THOUSAND HAS-BEENS

I’ve long joked about producing an evening of variety entertainment, which I refer to as, The Night of a Thousand Has-Beens. I’d always imagined it would be hosted by Pia Zadora and Jaleel White (who played Urkel on Family Matters). They would begin the evening by singing something like a medley of “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and “Ebony and Ivory. The format would loosely resemble an awards show, complete with a red carpet entrance, an endless stream of over-dressed people making podium speeches and tacky song and dance acts. Of course, no actual awards would be handed out, but it would be a last hurrah of sorts for people like Barry Williams, Stella Stevens and Mary Lou Rettin.

Perhaps the window of opportunity for this type of extravaganza has passed. First of all, former celebrities who used to go off to set up pet shelters in small towns — and leave the public to wonder “what ever happened to them” — have now found new lives parodying themselves on reality television shows. For example, on their VH1 program “My Fair Brady,” Chris Knight and Florence Henderson reenact a facsimile of their Mother and son television roles in which Henderson gives Knight psychological advice about his new relationship with a much younger girlfriend. Or, how about Danny Bonaduce’s, “Breaking Bonaduce,” in which he takes a camera into his marriage counseling sessions to expose the kind of ugly, real-life dysfunction no one could make up. (Too bad Florence Henderson isn’t Danny’s counselor. Think of the possibilities.)

For those who don’t have the nerve or lack of esteem to bare themselves, doogie-poo-and-all, Osbourne-style on reality shows, there is yet another venue: Larry King Live on CNN. Where else can one tune in to see the geriatric and mean-spirited Jerry Lewis being treated like he’s still the funniest man alive? Who, but Larry would have the nerve to celebrate the nuptials of Liza Minnelli and her obviously gay husband — on more than one occasion, and without irony? And who, but the man who foisted Nancy Grace on the unsuspecting public, is so interested in the wives, children and parents of dead or washed-up stars that he has spent the golden years of his career interviewing them?

If ever there was to be a Night of a Thousand Has-Beens, Larry King’s recent 25-year Anniversary party, held at Spago Restaurant, was surely it. There were some who likely couldn’t be taken off of life-support or leave their rehabs, in order to attend, but here’s who came:
Clay Aiken, Valerie Allen, Tom Arnold, Marcia Clark, Joan Dangerfield (wife of deceased Rodney), Angie Dickenson, Barbara Eden, Farrah Fawcett, Mark Geragos, Kathy Griffin, Josh Grobin, Merle Haggard, Terri Hatcher, Tippi Hedren, Marilu Henner, Dennis Hopper, Joe Jackson, Jermaine Jackson, LaToya Jackson (but not Michael), Jenny Jones, Wynonna Judd, Frank Langella, Cloris Leachman (hey, how did she get on this list), Richard Lewis, Ian McShane, Jayne Meadows, Mike and Irena Medavoy, Donna Mills, Poppy Montgomery, Paul Reiser, Eva Marie Saint, Connie Seleca, Tony Shaloub, Bob Shapiro, William Shatner, Joe and Tina Simpson (Jessica and Ashlee’s parents), Tina Sinatra, Anna Nicole Smith, Suzanne Sommers, Connie Stevens, Rod Stewart, John Tesh, Alan Thicke, Tanya Tucker, Lindsay Wagner, Raquel Welch and Warren G.

All I want to know is, who the hell forgot to invite David Gest and Elizabeth Smart’s parents? And, more importantly, why, oh why, wasn’t the whole thing on TV?