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... talking of sex tho' {and, as per above, as w/ Morrissey 45s, this is all being written from memory, so ...*}

... I did actually try to catch the comeback of Sex in The City, first episode, the four Dorothys in situ at - surprise as per surprise! - an outdoorsy table of a trendy new bar in - OH yes! we see! we get the 'gag' - [s]ex meat packing district, and the first double entendre off the supposedly "ballsy" one's lips and I just thought, this is nothing but a would-be urbane NYC Carry On..., carry on shopping or quipping or coming, or something, like, Prada-sheen mere M.O.R SMUT rewritten by a closet gay Tom Wolfe or s/t, and UNBEARABLY quippy, like, it's not the supposed spot-on girls-talk femininity that irks me - as per Kate Flett's 'people divide into those who GET SITC [ie women] and people who don't [ie men]' {no, honey, people don't divide, they're not compasses, and even if they were, I think these days it might just come down to something a teensy bit more pressing, like, you know, some Barnsley housing estate, I wonder if they wait breathlessly for Sunday to roll around so they can divide around who agrees with THAT observation about Sex in The City and who doesn't?} - - and it's certainly not the 'some viewers may be offended' post water shed "sex", like, there are places on the Web where there are post-Lydia post-Courtney post-queer Grrrrls having a rrrriot with smudging ALL the a-priori sex-I definitions ALL over the shop and who don't NEED to SHOP for identity clothes and who, the only thing they LOVE more than 'giving offence' to [y]our pre-conceived notions of femininity is LOVE itself, LOVING themselves and their others ...

... no, irk wise, it's the hi-heel-thin bottox-unnatural brittle "girly girl" facade of it all, for surely this is no more than a WHICH? QUEEN version of How Girls Are ... ?

And anyway but, like I say, I tried, but mid-quip, PRADA bags at their kitten heel feet, fork poised, NO, NO MORE! and that was it, couldnt take another sliver or quip, so \/\/\/\/\/\ switched to a (repeat) of Victoria Wood's Dinnerladies [BBC2, same time, same day], also an in situ comedy about the clique and clack of femininity, working girls, ladies who MAKE the lunch you eat, dolls, and do you know what?

i} within seconds I was laughing - like, big LAFFS, out LOUD, not '-hmmm, inner titter, THAT's a piquant social observation about the Observer reading classes and their consumer choices...' - LAFFing fit to BUST ...

and ii} - talking of BUST {a word she seemingly loves - and why not - and deploys marvellously} Victoria Wood's double and triple and octogenarian entendres are a 1,000 times quippier whiplashier and RISKIER than ANYTHING in SITC ...
iii} ... I FANCY Victoria Wood a 1,000 times more than ANY of the witty dishy in-the-know Vogue-mahone kittys in SITC. There, I've said it. What's more, Victoria Wood's "sexuality" is a 1,000 times more fascinating, straight (so to speak) off the bat. This isn't some saddo post-ironic tease/joke/protest on my part: line 'em up ... the SITC bitches coven + the unstandard curves of VW, and I know who I'M going home with, 2-nite, in my head ...
{see also: my paen to the Daschund Girl [Pill Box passim] ... and "Ordinary" Girls as the most sublime things you ever do see ... glancingly ... from the corner of your desiring "I" ...

$ ---- $


Somebody American would have to verify this speculation, but how USA or more pertinently NYC specific is SITC anyway? Isn't it about men as a kind of "commodity" in scarce supply?; sex as a "market" in which you indeed have to market yourself in all the right "in" clothes & bars & heels & kinks & fetishes?; and Which? Queen gay men as the ulti-mate post-feminist role models? {All work AS play, or play of quippy ironic signifiers?}
And isn't it, like Will & Grace, this strange kind of 'maybe Gay Men make the best Husband Material after all' kind of phantasy, which traduces the TRUE DESIRE[s] of all - straight & gay - concerned? Which replaces FLESH - & cum & blood & saliva & difference & angst & LACK and every Other troubling thing - with the list tick framework of those THIS MONTH "IN" pages all the glossy mags specialise & lead with? Like, never mind if your hubby hasn't actually fucked you for 19 months - and you suspect he's actually seeing a far better groomed Other, and, what's worse, it's another GUY he's seeing - at least you've burning the right scented candles du jour, bought on his credit card, which, at least THAT has an endless capacity to please you and means you never have to hear "NO" or "STOP" or "THINK" or "LACK": a no-limit credit card means never having to stop - or maybe start - coming ...

... and doesn't this also kind of flow into and out of a certain Gay scriptwriter ambivalence about SITC-y women? [NB: "fag hag" - does that SOUND like a term of endearment to you?]
Which isn't so far from Mark's McGroot thing, which, sorry, I ain't gonna go NEAR that with a schtick, no way, partly becoz I haven't read the original in full, and, what I did read, I just felt, OK, s'funny enuff as a kind of none-more-tricksy trickster CLASS WAR prank, but I JUST DONT HAVE THE TIME to work out how entangled the post-ironic tones & tenors & traits are from the under-lying "truths" and so on ... also, that one should NEVER be more careful than when publically broadcasting the STANCE of having your back firmly turned to Kapital's MIRROR OF SEDUCTION ...
... like, people in glas houses?
... and like, unless you're living some kinda UNABOMBER existence - and good luck to you, long as you're only self harming, and life is one long endless production of critique ... - I'd be VERY careful about any yah-boo at the ruses & traps of consumerist subjectivity, even if it does turn out to be one big prank, for how many of us can say, hand on Lack, that we are utterly utterly untainted - right down to our Unconscious flows & contradictions - by post modern BUY ME iconography, and ---
... and I think I have a lot to say about this, properly speaking, and after all, there are precedents [Throbbing Gristle and Marcel Duchamp leap instantly to mind e.g.] but I'm not gonna just riff n rant on this one ... tempting tho it is in a Lenny Bruce/Bill Hicks kinda way ...

*{"Truman Capote told me once that certain kinds of sex are total, complete manifestations of nostalgia, and I think that's true.
Other kinds of sex have nostalgia in varying degrees, from a little to a lot, but I think it's safe to say that most sex involves some form of nostalgia for something.
Sex is a nostalgia for when you used to want it, sometimes.
Sex is nostalgia for sex"**
{from FROM A TO B AND BACK AGAIN The Philosophy of Andy Warhol [1975]

**{{ - and Is It Just Me, or does that sound like, like, Jean Baudrillard, what exactly were you reading in 1975?
Neuralgia for a page yet to COME ... ?

- ---- +

I KNOW how late I am with a lot of these judgements, how long it invariably takes me to catch up with the Latest Thing {i.e, my Dizzee piece will probably surface in, like Autumn 2006}, but ... I've just been trying to listen to the last [year's] Sigur Ros cd, 'cos I liked that one sorta-hit of their's, it was used really well in an early episode of CSI once, but, Sigur Ros - aren't they like, STATUS QUO for limp little indie boys who want the world to think they're sensitive?
{Won't say "sad" - partly because I like the word sad - and I'm genuinely sad myself a lot of the time - and partly coz I know Mark's trying to reclaim it.
{Christ, just remembered: Coil "supported" Sigur Ros, South Bank, October 2002. After a WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN indelible mind shattering multi media poly-emotional STORM of a Coil set, we likewise tried to sit through Sigur Ros, but, one and half songs in, thought, NO WAY, no WAY are we sitting respectfully politely through this one long self-same WHINE after ... after the APOCALYPSE and how of Coil. Yes, "supported", that sure is the word for that night ...

posted by Ian 8/07/2003 11:51:00 AM

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