Fabulicious is the only word in our arsenal of demented gay superlatives to describe it.

And no, it’s not that Jodie Foster may or may not have just come out — stunned and shaken as we would be by such an announcement.

Nor is it the national confusion we’re all going through trying to keep the Petersons straight: Is it Stacy or Laci who is the current missing, presumed dead wife? Is it Drew or Scott — both stud-muffin names — who is the despicable, unlovable, unredeemable rascal in the windowless cell on death row that we’d love to fuck anyway?

Even the announcement of the Golden Globe nominations this morning — the most deeply meaningless trophies in show business – are not what’s making us crazy right now — though we are overjoyed to see that Keira Knightly is finally getting her due as the greatest actress of our time — a status once held in a long ago Hollywood by that delightful (but forgotten — why, why, why?) minx, Pia (with a Z) Zadora!

What has made us dig to the bottom of our dementia bag to come up with the rare gem fabulicious is the current collision between East and West that is gushing forth rivers of kitsch in the most nutso campaign video ( what!) ever. Put on your dazzle glasses, boys, because Christmas has come a little early this year: (more…)

The straight takeover of San Francisco was made all too clear last month when Castro Street had to cancel its annual Halloween parade.

And if you examine the photo at left you’ll understand why. Yes, it’s a gay bar. And yes, it’s crammed wall-to wall with straight people

“The Glindas, gladiators and harem boys of the Castro — along with untold numbers who plan to dress up as Senator Larry E. Craig, this year’s camp celebrity — will be celebrating behind closed doors,” reported the New York Times, citing the decision to disband the parade as a wrenching moment of “soul-searching” that struck “a blow at the heart of neighborhood identity.”

It is a decision that is coming to symbolize the dismantling of the great gay ghettos throughout America — what the press used to call “Gay Meccas,” those insular enclaves where men could walk down the street carelessly holding hands, or slobber over each other in the hellish light coming from some leather bar as they made out on the sidewalk. (A world lovingly imagined — but wildly, cartoonishly overdrawn — in the American version of Queer as Folk, below) (more…)

Attention Fictional Characters Everywhere!

Who will be next?

Now that Dumbledore has come out, now that Potter scholars are popping up everywhere saying they knew it all along, including one who counted off the wizard’s seven clues of gayness, not least of which was the lighthearted observation that “Albus Dumbledore” is an anagram for ‘Male bods rule, bud…”

Now in these heady, happy days of full-disclosure, Nightcharm wishes to urge other fictional characters to come out finally and share the love. And so we have composed Our Open Letters to the biggest Closet Cases in Films and Fiction: (more…)

Is this you?

1. Gay and Mormon
2. Gay and in the military
3. A survivor of the Ex-Gay Movement
4. A country boy who came of age during the Bush Era

Have you had any of these life experiences?

Nightcharm is looking for thoughtful first-person accounts on these topics. More details below the jump. (more…)

You met him online and he seems like a real stud.

One thing leads to another and before you know it you’re building fantasies all over this guy. You’re nervous to arrange the date but his deep, masculine phone voice is everything you’ve been looking for from your ultimate fuck buddy.

It’s not until you enter his apartment that you’re confronted with the reality of your predicament: peach-scented candles, a collection of Gone With the Wind commemorative plates with certificates of authenticity from the Franklin Mint, a pastel-blue yarn toilet seat cover.

It’s too late to turn back, friend. You’ve entered the world of a Lurid Digs contender.

Of course if you’re lucky, Romeo will have posted images of himself online with indicative clues to his lack of taste before you ever arrive on the scene.

Each month, the readers of our sister site, Lurid Digs send us so many horrifying photos of their past, present, and potential online lovers surrounded by the type of carnage that we do so love to hate… it’s impossible for us to publish them all, but we sportingly keep trying.

It’s our mission to let the world know that no matter how hot a man is, if there is a giant pile of orange dog puppets behind him when he takes the shot for his profile, he’s probably not safe from scrutiny.

Visit the world of Lurid Digs now.

Outing. It’s not just for politicians, celebrities, pro athletes, and your dad anymore. You don’t even have to be three dimensional to have people wondering which way you swing.

Cartoon characters are facing the same laser intensity of gaydar as anyone else in the public eye.

What was the deal with Snagglepuss? Did little Jonny Quest have two daddies? Were Vanity and Hefty the gayest of the already queer manly commune known as the Smurfs?

And didn’t The Peanuts‘ Peppermint Patty and Marcie seem different than the frillier girl members of the Charlie Brown posse? On some level we’ve always suspected that the tastes of Scooby-Doo ’s Velma Dinkley leaned more toward Josie & The Pussycats than Thundarr The Barbarian.

Few characters elicit the amount of near-unanimous speculation as the Reagan Era phenom He-Man does. For grade schoolers in the 80s more taken with Dick than Jane, He-Man & The Masters of The Universe was weekly catnip. Years later we’re sure the series meant to present us with a robust action hero who could teach us valuable life lessons. What we really appreciate it for are the curvaceous bodies- rotoscoped over actual bodybuilder models- swaggering toward the camera, the brazen flexing, rippling limbs grappling in combat, and shots being framed from the back between clenched asses and gigantic thighs. (more…)

We’re living in a world of stars and dust.

Between heaven –
and all that surrounds us.

We’re travelers here –
spirits passing through.

And the love we give is all that will endure…

Tears will leave no stain,
Time will ease the pain.

For every light that fades
Something beautiful remains.

Words are here, finally, superfluous. Let’s us listen then. Let us remember Pavarotti, both the Sacred and the Profane. (more…)

After working like mules through July to redesign Nightcharm’s front page and blog, we’ve decided to do what every sane art and nature-loving Frenchman does: take the month of August off.

Europeans are lucky that way. For eons August has been the time of year when folks retreat from their day-to-day grind and take time to contemplate other people, places and things. Traveling, or not. Catching up on literature, film and fucking.

Some of the more privileged and blessed on our staff — people like our dear editor-in-chief John Calendo — will take both August and September off (the bitch) for some deep soul rejuvenation. Expect miraculous things from him in October when he returns from the Promises Treatment Center. (more…)