“Arcing ropes of jism.” How could I not open my song of praise to Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme and not feature that description? I had to work it in somehow.

Sure, flying jism is a visual you’d associate with a porn site — but not a Joe Cocker song. And yet that’s the way Homme — the sexy and smart frontdude for the Queens — describes his reaction to a certain snare drum sound that he’s been “chasing” (to mimic and record) ever since he heard it on the Cocker tune.

The jism quote was featured in a recent Pitchfork interview that celebrates the release of the Queen’s exhilarating new album Era Vulgaris.

The title is Latin for “common era.” But don’t take that as an arty snub against our culture’s Last Days cluster fuck. Homme enjoys the times we’re all wallowing in, and considers the current zeitgeist a character building challenge — or as he puts it: (more…)

Every American must do his duty to restore the goodwill and love of our European friends.

Yes, campers, there will be life after George Bush!

The birds will again sing. The gloryholes will open. The baths will gush forth. San Francisco will become affordable. And Cher will make a comeback.

All will be right again in this crazy ol’ world of ours.

One American — and oh, we applaud him — is leading the way.

One American, unknown and unsung. And completely undressed.

May he not be too far ahead of his time!

First Germany, tomorrow the world!
(more…)

(more…)

They’re both nude. A man and a woman. Hip-deep in a jungle pond, their genitals thoughtfully concealed by gently swirling lily pads.

The woman’s long dark hair, as hair always does in these tableaux, carefully hides her breasts. Two giant white lotuses bloom beside the Biblical couple.

Yes, Virginia, this is Adam and Eve on their first date.

At least as it’s depicted at Cincinnati’s new 60,000 square foot Creation Museum — a museum that “brings the pages of the Bible to life.” And not just with animatronic dolls (left), but with a video of Adam and Eve in all their near-naked glory.

You read correctly, a video depicting how life as we know it really, really began (or so the museum claims): A solitary man. His magical rib. A miraculous mutation. A Wooo-man.

A snake … and then …

A career in porn?

Yep, porn creep strikes again, in God’s garden no less.

As so often befalls those associated with our country’s most sacred enterprises, sex and porn continue to have their way.

In our garden variety tale it’s Adam — er, Eric Linden (left), the hunky actor who plays Adam in Cincinnati Eden — who is currently under fire for associating himself with number one, S-E-X, and number two, S-F-X, a racy clothing company that depicts Linden in one of its ads showing off a T-shirt while he seems to be getting a blowjob. (more…)

Don’t kiss the world goodbye!

Unleash all the furies of hell on the fucker!

Like Sophie did.

Sophie?

Yes, Sophie Calle, the French artist who has brought grudge-fucking to a high art and become the hit of this year’s Venice Biennale — sort of a Cannes Film Festival for the art world and one of the most competitive venues in Europe for the bright and the new.

When Ms. Calle’s boyfriend emailed her a “Dear Jane” letter, she replied by setting 107 raving women on his ass — Furies, indeed — installing the entire “work” in a pavilion at the Biennale.

Reports the Washington Post’s sharp-eyed and shaper-tongued Blake Gopnik: (more…)

And so the Sopranos ended last night with a whimper, not a bang.

And it was fantastic. Literally — including a perfectly believable report by one of the nastier comic relief characters, Paulie Walnuts, that one night when he was wandering alone he saw the Virgin Mary at the Bada-Bing strip club.

Love it!

So here’s my 2 cents on the ending, which I also LOVED.

The wisdom of it was the “two roads diverged in a yellow wood” paradox. And the point, as I see it, is that both possibilities are parallel — killed, not killed — and equally likely.

Ending the way it did the emphasis was on the tension of this sort of life, the precariousness of being a mobster. And then, after a step back, the precariousness of life for everyone. Death stalks us all, no? (more…)

If you’ve ever had a fantasy of being fucked by a genuine Idaho russet, this is your chance.

Booker is our new discovery, featured this week in the Inner Circle’s Cruiser Boys theater.

The dick on this stud is so fucking thick, it won’t just open up your ass — it’ll clear your sinuses as well. You’re definitely in for a ride, guys.

Go get some!

(MEMBERS / non-MEMBERS take a free tour)

That dick! Those lips. The legend.

The mantle of legend demands an epic quality and universal recognition that few can command, especially within the turnstile world of porn.

If there’s a face of gay porn, it’s larger-than-life Jeff Stryker — he of the hillbilly drawl and raging ramrod — the rarest of stars whose status extends beyond the porn arena and secures an immortal place in the collective consciousness.

Stryker’s ascension to stardom in 1985 during smut’s Video Revolution is the mythic porn equivalent of Marilyn Monroe’s.

Young Midwesterner Charles Peyton was discovered via a typical modeling ad by directors Matt Sterling and John Travis.

As Norma Jean was made over into Marilyn, Stryker was manufactured into the cherub-faced, Goliath-endowed hard body we know today (some claiming as with Monroe that a cosmetic facial enhancement was involved in bringing the new creation to life) and thrust into the spotlight with a PR machine at his back. (more…)