Jim Wigler has been photographing the men of San Francisco since the early 1980s. He was working for Drummer magazine at the time. He created the exhibit Faces of AIDS which toured with the Quilt, and worked as an editor for porn studios including Bijou World and Hot House.
Jim’s collection of negatives and chromes is vast, and he is steadily uploading them to his new Tumblr.
“Dated” — it’s such an unfair word.
Sometimes, being era-specific can be a virtue.
Gay porn doesn’t really date all that well — it’s amazing to see how polished and professional the medium has become since the days of the handheld video revolution — and I’m frankly glad for that. So much of “new” porn is striking me as rather bland; creative sets have fallen by the wayside in favor of these generic “porn house” locales, music is no longer sublimely terrible than it is just ambient synth, and context isn’t as integral to setting a scene’s mood anymore.
Even though I tell myself that this is tragic and chemically-enhanced male beauty, I still can’t stop my groin from stiffening at the sight of it. As a child, I had no conception of what “gay” was — much more the existence of the Muscle Bear — but that didn’t keep me from laying eyes on Brawn Master Lyle Alzado, secretly desiring that he would punish me hard, and thinking…
I’m fairly certain that many a gay man’s body enhancement obsession can be directly linked to this ad and its variants which aired during many of our formative years. Gym equipment, gay workout shorts, the idealized self reflected in the magic mirror — all of it achievable if you just chug gallons of milk. Didn’t we all drink it, but how many of us grew up into fucking Disney princes?Read More...
The greatest fucking TV cast ever.Read More...
“…and it’s like I fell into a dream…”
David Lynch’s peerless Twin Peaks — the autumn-hued, gauzily dreamy, swooningly romantic, endlessly quotable, and shudderingly scary series that gave birth to the new wave of culty ’90s network TV — turns twenty this year.
This past weekend, the artist collective In The Trees held a banner event to commemorate the occasion at L.A.’s Clifton’s Cafeteria — a woodland-bedecked eatery that proves trees don’t just grow in Brooklyn.
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