Helen H. Moore's Blog, page 828
March 22, 2016
South Carolina’s new war on women: Why its impending 20-week abortion ban is completely unconscionable
One of the many anti-choice laws that make it really, really difficult to have a safe, legal and constitutionally protected abortion is the all-too-common 20-week ban. The ban, along with other anti-choice measures employed by right-wing legislatures -- such as draconian transvaginal ultrasound mandates and other TRAP laws (Targeted Regulation of Abortion Providers) -- are all but explicitly intended to paint women into corners and, in many cases, serve to intimidate women to the point of choosing to forego the procedure. And, shocker, most of these anti-choice laws are based on fiction. Especially the 20-week ban. We'll circle back to this point. In South Carolina this week, Governor Nikki Haley has indicated that she'll likely sign HB 3114, "The Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act," into law. The bill, which was recently passed by the South Carolina State Senate, bans nearly all abortions after the 20-week pregnancy milestone. Said Gov. Haley: “I can’t imagine any scenario in which I wouldn’t sign it.” Here are at least a few reasons why Haley shouldn't sign the law, especially given that she's both a woman and an elected official tasked with upholding the Constitution. There aren't any exceptions for rape or incest. In fact, the only exception included in the law would allow pregnant women whose lives are in danger to have an abortion, and allow the termination of pregnancies when there are "fetal anomalies." However, the definition of "fetal anomaly" in the law would still ban abortions in cases of a significant number of serious fetal abnormalities. The law also carries with it punitive sanctions against doctors who violate the statute, including three-year prison sentences. (Eight Democrats voted with the Republican majority to pass the bill.) South Carolina wouldn't be the first state to successfully ban all abortions after 20 weeks. Sixteen states and counting have already passed similar laws. Most of the laws so far don't contain reasonable exceptions for the lives of pregnant women, except for the 20-week ban in Mississippi. And, in Arkansas, a recent law bans all abortions after just 12 weeks. Why 20 weeks? Republicans, who have been known to be sketchy when it comes to science, falsely believe that fetuses can feel pain at 20 weeks, thus the ban. (A Montana law based on the 20-week marker proposed that fetuses be administered pain killers before abortions.) Of course, actual doctors and scientists indicate that fetuses can't feel pain until roughly the onset of the third trimester -- 27 weeks, give or take -- not 20 weeks. The Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA):

Evidence regarding the capacity for fetal pain is limited but indicates that fetal perception of pain is unlikely before the third trimester [or 27 weeks]. Little or no evidence addresses the effectiveness of direct fetal anesthetic or analgesic techniques.FactCheck.org elaborated on JAMA's findings:
One reason the JAMA review finds early pain perception unlikely is that the connections between the thalamus, a sort of relay center in the brain, and the cortex have not yet formed. This happens between 23 and 30 weeks gestational age, and the authors argue these connections are a precursor for pain perception. They also cite studies using electroencephalography that have shown the capacity for functional pain in preterm newborns “probably does not exist before 29 or 30 weeks.”So, here we are with another mostly implemented state-level GOP policy that completely ignores science for the sake of political convenience. Likewise, there isn't any medical evidence necessitating transvaginal ultrasounds -- or, for that matter, any medical requirement for mandatory admitting privileges at local hospitals, or for coercing women to listen to fetal heartbeats. Indeed, there isn't any medical evidence proving fetal personhood, as defined by alleged libertarians like Rand Paul who's introduced laws establishing such nonsense. Pain or no pain, as long as gestation takes place inside human uteri, those humans have purview over the contents of their sovereign internal organs. Likewise, many conservatives believe they enjoy considerable sovereignty over their homes and property. Why is this right not applicable to female reproductive organs? Why is it okay for sovereign citizens to retain control over what happens inside their homes, often using deadly force to defend their property, but it's not okay for women to retain control over their internal organs? While we're asking serious questions here, why haven't any Republicans lifted a finger to make pregnancy and parenting more affordable, thereby mitigating the economic need for abortions? The "why" really doesn't matter as much as the reality that Republicans haven't passed a damn thing making pregnancy anywhere close to being more affordable. They've only made pregnancy more inevitable by fighting against affordable and convenient access to birth control, while also pushing ludicrous and ineffectual abstinence-only laws. What we're talking about here is forced birth, even if the pregnancy occurred by no fault of the women who became impregnated. This is about making sure that women continue to be walking, talking gestation pods for God's America. And, by the way, don't plan on getting a break on the cost of pregnancy, nor the cost of daycare or college, since it amounts to scary, scary socialism. Yes, we can allow the government to have authoritarian control over women's bodies, but we can't have government control over making healthcare decisions easier and more affordable. And, once again, while we're all self-flagellating over Trump or Bernie or Hillary, the states continue pass the worst laws imaginable. Yet liberals fail to turn out for off-year and midterm elections because of Obama or the fallacious idea that both parties are the same. Meanwhile, the progressivism demanded by the Democratic base is being rolled back one law at a time, due in significant part to a lack of participation in those non-presidential elections. The political revolution has to begin at the bottom -- at the school board level and up. Until then, the left is only sporadically engaged and only when there's a cult of personality to join. This is how the GOP has successfully circumvented science and the constitution and, ultimately, put lives at risk.One of the many anti-choice laws that make it really, really difficult to have a safe, legal and constitutionally protected abortion is the all-too-common 20-week ban. The ban, along with other anti-choice measures employed by right-wing legislatures -- such as draconian transvaginal ultrasound mandates and other TRAP laws (Targeted Regulation of Abortion Providers) -- are all but explicitly intended to paint women into corners and, in many cases, serve to intimidate women to the point of choosing to forego the procedure. And, shocker, most of these anti-choice laws are based on fiction. Especially the 20-week ban. We'll circle back to this point. In South Carolina this week, Governor Nikki Haley has indicated that she'll likely sign HB 3114, "The Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act," into law. The bill, which was recently passed by the South Carolina State Senate, bans nearly all abortions after the 20-week pregnancy milestone. Said Gov. Haley: “I can’t imagine any scenario in which I wouldn’t sign it.” Here are at least a few reasons why Haley shouldn't sign the law, especially given that she's both a woman and an elected official tasked with upholding the Constitution. There aren't any exceptions for rape or incest. In fact, the only exception included in the law would allow pregnant women whose lives are in danger to have an abortion, and allow the termination of pregnancies when there are "fetal anomalies." However, the definition of "fetal anomaly" in the law would still ban abortions in cases of a significant number of serious fetal abnormalities. The law also carries with it punitive sanctions against doctors who violate the statute, including three-year prison sentences. (Eight Democrats voted with the Republican majority to pass the bill.) South Carolina wouldn't be the first state to successfully ban all abortions after 20 weeks. Sixteen states and counting have already passed similar laws. Most of the laws so far don't contain reasonable exceptions for the lives of pregnant women, except for the 20-week ban in Mississippi. And, in Arkansas, a recent law bans all abortions after just 12 weeks. Why 20 weeks? Republicans, who have been known to be sketchy when it comes to science, falsely believe that fetuses can feel pain at 20 weeks, thus the ban. (A Montana law based on the 20-week marker proposed that fetuses be administered pain killers before abortions.) Of course, actual doctors and scientists indicate that fetuses can't feel pain until roughly the onset of the third trimester -- 27 weeks, give or take -- not 20 weeks. The Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA):
Evidence regarding the capacity for fetal pain is limited but indicates that fetal perception of pain is unlikely before the third trimester [or 27 weeks]. Little or no evidence addresses the effectiveness of direct fetal anesthetic or analgesic techniques.FactCheck.org elaborated on JAMA's findings:
One reason the JAMA review finds early pain perception unlikely is that the connections between the thalamus, a sort of relay center in the brain, and the cortex have not yet formed. This happens between 23 and 30 weeks gestational age, and the authors argue these connections are a precursor for pain perception. They also cite studies using electroencephalography that have shown the capacity for functional pain in preterm newborns “probably does not exist before 29 or 30 weeks.”So, here we are with another mostly implemented state-level GOP policy that completely ignores science for the sake of political convenience. Likewise, there isn't any medical evidence necessitating transvaginal ultrasounds -- or, for that matter, any medical requirement for mandatory admitting privileges at local hospitals, or for coercing women to listen to fetal heartbeats. Indeed, there isn't any medical evidence proving fetal personhood, as defined by alleged libertarians like Rand Paul who's introduced laws establishing such nonsense. Pain or no pain, as long as gestation takes place inside human uteri, those humans have purview over the contents of their sovereign internal organs. Likewise, many conservatives believe they enjoy considerable sovereignty over their homes and property. Why is this right not applicable to female reproductive organs? Why is it okay for sovereign citizens to retain control over what happens inside their homes, often using deadly force to defend their property, but it's not okay for women to retain control over their internal organs? While we're asking serious questions here, why haven't any Republicans lifted a finger to make pregnancy and parenting more affordable, thereby mitigating the economic need for abortions? The "why" really doesn't matter as much as the reality that Republicans haven't passed a damn thing making pregnancy anywhere close to being more affordable. They've only made pregnancy more inevitable by fighting against affordable and convenient access to birth control, while also pushing ludicrous and ineffectual abstinence-only laws. What we're talking about here is forced birth, even if the pregnancy occurred by no fault of the women who became impregnated. This is about making sure that women continue to be walking, talking gestation pods for God's America. And, by the way, don't plan on getting a break on the cost of pregnancy, nor the cost of daycare or college, since it amounts to scary, scary socialism. Yes, we can allow the government to have authoritarian control over women's bodies, but we can't have government control over making healthcare decisions easier and more affordable. And, once again, while we're all self-flagellating over Trump or Bernie or Hillary, the states continue pass the worst laws imaginable. Yet liberals fail to turn out for off-year and midterm elections because of Obama or the fallacious idea that both parties are the same. Meanwhile, the progressivism demanded by the Democratic base is being rolled back one law at a time, due in significant part to a lack of participation in those non-presidential elections. The political revolution has to begin at the bottom -- at the school board level and up. Until then, the left is only sporadically engaged and only when there's a cult of personality to join. This is how the GOP has successfully circumvented science and the constitution and, ultimately, put lives at risk.






Published on March 22, 2016 14:00
6 key issues where Hillary is vulnerable against Donald Trump








Published on March 22, 2016 01:00
March 21, 2016
“I didn’t come here tonight to pander to you”: Trump gets warm response after pandering, after all, in AIPAC speech
Speaking with the aide of a teleprompter at AIPAC Monday evening, Donald Trump managed not to offend Jewish voters with a prepared speech "about where I stand on the future of American relations with ... the only democracy in the Middle East, the state of Israel." Reports prior to Trump's speech rumored of a walkout in protest. In actuality, the walkout was, at most, marginal. https://twitter.com/ChemiShalev/statu... Trump received a standing ovation for his comments on President Obama, who he said, "constantly applies pressure to our friends and rewards our enemies." The GOP frontrunner hammered home several tentpole policy points specifically catered to the audience, receiving an expectedly warm reception. "My No. 1 priority is to dismantle the disastrous deal with Iran," he said. "We have rewarded the world's leading state sponsor of terror with $150 billion and we received absolutely nothing in return." Trump characterized Palestine as the undisputed antagonist, saying that, "In Palestinian society, the heroes are those who murder Jews." A contentious point that Trump managed to squeeze into the final sentences of his speech called for moving the American embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to "send a clear signal that there is no daylight between America and our most reliable ally, the state of Israel." Ted Cruz also advocated moving the embassy to Jerusalem during his speech, which followed Trump's. Read the full text of the speech here. Speaking with the aide of a teleprompter at AIPAC Monday evening, Donald Trump managed not to offend Jewish voters with a prepared speech "about where I stand on the future of American relations with ... the only democracy in the Middle East, the state of Israel." Reports prior to Trump's speech rumored of a walkout in protest. In actuality, the walkout was, at most, marginal. https://twitter.com/ChemiShalev/statu... Trump received a standing ovation for his comments on President Obama, who he said, "constantly applies pressure to our friends and rewards our enemies." The GOP frontrunner hammered home several tentpole policy points specifically catered to the audience, receiving an expectedly warm reception. "My No. 1 priority is to dismantle the disastrous deal with Iran," he said. "We have rewarded the world's leading state sponsor of terror with $150 billion and we received absolutely nothing in return." Trump characterized Palestine as the undisputed antagonist, saying that, "In Palestinian society, the heroes are those who murder Jews." A contentious point that Trump managed to squeeze into the final sentences of his speech called for moving the American embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to "send a clear signal that there is no daylight between America and our most reliable ally, the state of Israel." Ted Cruz also advocated moving the embassy to Jerusalem during his speech, which followed Trump's. Read the full text of the speech here. Speaking with the aide of a teleprompter at AIPAC Monday evening, Donald Trump managed not to offend Jewish voters with a prepared speech "about where I stand on the future of American relations with ... the only democracy in the Middle East, the state of Israel." Reports prior to Trump's speech rumored of a walkout in protest. In actuality, the walkout was, at most, marginal. https://twitter.com/ChemiShalev/statu... Trump received a standing ovation for his comments on President Obama, who he said, "constantly applies pressure to our friends and rewards our enemies." The GOP frontrunner hammered home several tentpole policy points specifically catered to the audience, receiving an expectedly warm reception. "My No. 1 priority is to dismantle the disastrous deal with Iran," he said. "We have rewarded the world's leading state sponsor of terror with $150 billion and we received absolutely nothing in return." Trump characterized Palestine as the undisputed antagonist, saying that, "In Palestinian society, the heroes are those who murder Jews." A contentious point that Trump managed to squeeze into the final sentences of his speech called for moving the American embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to "send a clear signal that there is no daylight between America and our most reliable ally, the state of Israel." Ted Cruz also advocated moving the embassy to Jerusalem during his speech, which followed Trump's. Read the full text of the speech here.







Published on March 21, 2016 16:18
Trevor Noah is a lightweight: Laughing at his own jokes while “The Daily Show” flounders
Since Jon Stewart left “The Daily Show,” inheritor Trevor Noah has been both welcomed and criticized. He’s either refreshing or a disappointment, a letdown after Stewart’s edgy reign or just what the show needs to move into the future. Some observers were willing to give Noah some time to settle in: He’s from South Africa, and was bound to take a while to develop a feel for American politics. A new show is scary, and he deserved the chance to get a little seasoning. Last week’s episodes made something pretty clear: Noah still has some of the best writers in the business. And he’s funny and smart and likable. But despite six months on the job, he’s not growing much. Noah’s most frustrating quality is that he leans toward being silly – whether pushing a joke too far or laughing at his own lines – in a way that undercuts the seriousness of "The Daily Show’s" main subject, which, at this point, is an election with real consequences. This is, of course, political comedy, and it’s got to balance light with heavy. It can’t be all somber lectures and gloomy analysis. Noah can’t be earnest. But with "Daily Show" alum John Oliver delivering 20-minute riffs on subjects that should be dull – refugees, tobacco companies -- that somehow manage to keep us laughing and thinking at the same time, the bar is being set pretty high these days. Throw in Larry Wilmore, Stephen Colbert and Samantha Bee consistently offering dryer, sharper and less self-regarding comedy that Noah, and he’s starting to seem like someone who won’t outgrow his lightweight style. It’s not that he’s bad. But when correspondents Hasan Minhaj, Roy Wood Jr. and Jordan Klepper are often more pointed, by showing how the same writers’ words can be delivered with more restraint, something’s off. Sometimes, the show’s writers aren’t quite there either. On Thursday, Noah made fun of Supreme Court nominee Merrick Garland’s name, called him “totes adorbs” (yikes), tossed in a joke at the expense of older people, and called Marco Rubio “Little Marco.” Then he poured out three different bottles of water to make the same obvious Rubio joke. It was kind of funny at first, but it didn’t get better each time. (OK, Noah’s bit on John Kasich’s confetti was pretty excellent.) Often the best part of a Noah episode is the footage of Republicans loopiness, like the endless reel of Donald Trump using the term “amazing,” from Wednesday’s episode, or several days that ran videos of violence and threats at Trump’s rallies. On Thursday’s "Daily Show," it was the odd and meandering speech Mitch McConnell gave about Garland. This stuff was great, but Noah himself had very little to do with it. Larry Wilmore, by contrast, was wittier on Garland. (Making fun of the man’s name seems to be a requirement right now, and Wilmore did it better.) He managed to have fun with the courts issue – joking that if Congress wasn’t going to do its job, he wouldn’t do his, and checking his cellphone nonchalantly – without getting silly. For almost a year now, Wilmore has been covering the presidential election as a demonstration of “The Unblackening,” which he began with a report on Ted Cruz’s campaign appearance at Liberty University that has to be seen to be believed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5e6W... Wilmore calls Unblackening “The 'de-Negrofying' of the White House.” As he told Mashable:

When you have somebody like a Donald Trump. He made no bones about trying to disprove Barack Obama's Americanism in trying to make him out to be some foreigner that was born in Kenya — I thought that to be very racist. I don't think that was masked at all, and I feel like there has been an element ... of some ugly racial things. Not everyone is like that of course, and I think most people aren't. But there is a streak of that on that side, and it's not good. So that, to me, is part of my comic take. When people say "Let's take our country back," my way of saying that is, "Yes, you want to unblacken the White House."This frame gives a larger theme to Wilmore’s coverage, putting him in the line of Jon Stewart’s war against bullshit. And Wilmore gets across a moral weight. Noah’s version of “The Daily Show,” by contrast, seems to roll from joke to joke without adding up to much. Watch Noah chat with actor Theo James, and you see what he’s best at. He’s friendly, easygoing, well prepared and improvises well. Noah is a stand-up comedian first and foremost, and he has great instincts for bantering. He’s almost as good with Van Jones, mostly because Jones is able to run with the conversation. (This came after the Jones-Jeffrey Lord debate about the KKK, which was itself bleak comedy gold.) On the same episode, Noah gave an impression of a drowsy Ben Carson: He’s had a lot of practice at this one, and he’s got it down. But Noah can’t resist laughing at how funny he is. Will he keep that up as long as he’s behind the "Daily Show" desk? On Tuesday, similarly, he made a joke about an overzealous Italian waiter, and it started strong. “Conservatives love blaming Hillary for Benghazi; they push Benghazi like an Italian waiter pushes parmesan. ‘That’s enough. That’s enough. I’m good. Yeah, that’s enough -- thank you. No, no, I’m fine. I said when. I said when a long time ago.’ “ So did we, but Noah keeps going. On and on and on. The studio audience loved it, but on television, it was excessive. It all adds up to a guy who's a bit carried away with his own talent. No one is great at everything, and part of me wants to just watch Noah for his strengths. His working sense of comedy, admittedly, is probably a bit different from that of the other late-nights hosts. As he told Time Out:
I always believe that funny is serious and serious is funny. You don’t really need a distinction between them. If I’m doing something on stage and it evokes an emotion, then I might show that emotion, but I also don’t believe in being a preacher. If you have a point, that’s a bonus. But the funny has to come first, otherwise you shouldn’t call yourself a comedian.It sounds good when he spells it out that way. But Noah will put on a better show, one that plays to his own strengths and that grows from the tradition Jon Stewart established, if he takes this a little more seriously. Politics is important business -- especially this election! -- and if Wilmore, Colbert, Oliver and Bee can get the balance right, so can Noah.Since Jon Stewart left “The Daily Show,” inheritor Trevor Noah has been both welcomed and criticized. He’s either refreshing or a disappointment, a letdown after Stewart’s edgy reign or just what the show needs to move into the future. Some observers were willing to give Noah some time to settle in: He’s from South Africa, and was bound to take a while to develop a feel for American politics. A new show is scary, and he deserved the chance to get a little seasoning. Last week’s episodes made something pretty clear: Noah still has some of the best writers in the business. And he’s funny and smart and likable. But despite six months on the job, he’s not growing much. Noah’s most frustrating quality is that he leans toward being silly – whether pushing a joke too far or laughing at his own lines – in a way that undercuts the seriousness of "The Daily Show’s" main subject, which, at this point, is an election with real consequences. This is, of course, political comedy, and it’s got to balance light with heavy. It can’t be all somber lectures and gloomy analysis. Noah can’t be earnest. But with "Daily Show" alum John Oliver delivering 20-minute riffs on subjects that should be dull – refugees, tobacco companies -- that somehow manage to keep us laughing and thinking at the same time, the bar is being set pretty high these days. Throw in Larry Wilmore, Stephen Colbert and Samantha Bee consistently offering dryer, sharper and less self-regarding comedy that Noah, and he’s starting to seem like someone who won’t outgrow his lightweight style. It’s not that he’s bad. But when correspondents Hasan Minhaj, Roy Wood Jr. and Jordan Klepper are often more pointed, by showing how the same writers’ words can be delivered with more restraint, something’s off. Sometimes, the show’s writers aren’t quite there either. On Thursday, Noah made fun of Supreme Court nominee Merrick Garland’s name, called him “totes adorbs” (yikes), tossed in a joke at the expense of older people, and called Marco Rubio “Little Marco.” Then he poured out three different bottles of water to make the same obvious Rubio joke. It was kind of funny at first, but it didn’t get better each time. (OK, Noah’s bit on John Kasich’s confetti was pretty excellent.) Often the best part of a Noah episode is the footage of Republicans loopiness, like the endless reel of Donald Trump using the term “amazing,” from Wednesday’s episode, or several days that ran videos of violence and threats at Trump’s rallies. On Thursday’s "Daily Show," it was the odd and meandering speech Mitch McConnell gave about Garland. This stuff was great, but Noah himself had very little to do with it. Larry Wilmore, by contrast, was wittier on Garland. (Making fun of the man’s name seems to be a requirement right now, and Wilmore did it better.) He managed to have fun with the courts issue – joking that if Congress wasn’t going to do its job, he wouldn’t do his, and checking his cellphone nonchalantly – without getting silly. For almost a year now, Wilmore has been covering the presidential election as a demonstration of “The Unblackening,” which he began with a report on Ted Cruz’s campaign appearance at Liberty University that has to be seen to be believed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5e6W... Wilmore calls Unblackening “The 'de-Negrofying' of the White House.” As he told Mashable:
When you have somebody like a Donald Trump. He made no bones about trying to disprove Barack Obama's Americanism in trying to make him out to be some foreigner that was born in Kenya — I thought that to be very racist. I don't think that was masked at all, and I feel like there has been an element ... of some ugly racial things. Not everyone is like that of course, and I think most people aren't. But there is a streak of that on that side, and it's not good. So that, to me, is part of my comic take. When people say "Let's take our country back," my way of saying that is, "Yes, you want to unblacken the White House."This frame gives a larger theme to Wilmore’s coverage, putting him in the line of Jon Stewart’s war against bullshit. And Wilmore gets across a moral weight. Noah’s version of “The Daily Show,” by contrast, seems to roll from joke to joke without adding up to much. Watch Noah chat with actor Theo James, and you see what he’s best at. He’s friendly, easygoing, well prepared and improvises well. Noah is a stand-up comedian first and foremost, and he has great instincts for bantering. He’s almost as good with Van Jones, mostly because Jones is able to run with the conversation. (This came after the Jones-Jeffrey Lord debate about the KKK, which was itself bleak comedy gold.) On the same episode, Noah gave an impression of a drowsy Ben Carson: He’s had a lot of practice at this one, and he’s got it down. But Noah can’t resist laughing at how funny he is. Will he keep that up as long as he’s behind the "Daily Show" desk? On Tuesday, similarly, he made a joke about an overzealous Italian waiter, and it started strong. “Conservatives love blaming Hillary for Benghazi; they push Benghazi like an Italian waiter pushes parmesan. ‘That’s enough. That’s enough. I’m good. Yeah, that’s enough -- thank you. No, no, I’m fine. I said when. I said when a long time ago.’ “ So did we, but Noah keeps going. On and on and on. The studio audience loved it, but on television, it was excessive. It all adds up to a guy who's a bit carried away with his own talent. No one is great at everything, and part of me wants to just watch Noah for his strengths. His working sense of comedy, admittedly, is probably a bit different from that of the other late-nights hosts. As he told Time Out:
I always believe that funny is serious and serious is funny. You don’t really need a distinction between them. If I’m doing something on stage and it evokes an emotion, then I might show that emotion, but I also don’t believe in being a preacher. If you have a point, that’s a bonus. But the funny has to come first, otherwise you shouldn’t call yourself a comedian.It sounds good when he spells it out that way. But Noah will put on a better show, one that plays to his own strengths and that grows from the tradition Jon Stewart established, if he takes this a little more seriously. Politics is important business -- especially this election! -- and if Wilmore, Colbert, Oliver and Bee can get the balance right, so can Noah.Since Jon Stewart left “The Daily Show,” inheritor Trevor Noah has been both welcomed and criticized. He’s either refreshing or a disappointment, a letdown after Stewart’s edgy reign or just what the show needs to move into the future. Some observers were willing to give Noah some time to settle in: He’s from South Africa, and was bound to take a while to develop a feel for American politics. A new show is scary, and he deserved the chance to get a little seasoning. Last week’s episodes made something pretty clear: Noah still has some of the best writers in the business. And he’s funny and smart and likable. But despite six months on the job, he’s not growing much. Noah’s most frustrating quality is that he leans toward being silly – whether pushing a joke too far or laughing at his own lines – in a way that undercuts the seriousness of "The Daily Show’s" main subject, which, at this point, is an election with real consequences. This is, of course, political comedy, and it’s got to balance light with heavy. It can’t be all somber lectures and gloomy analysis. Noah can’t be earnest. But with "Daily Show" alum John Oliver delivering 20-minute riffs on subjects that should be dull – refugees, tobacco companies -- that somehow manage to keep us laughing and thinking at the same time, the bar is being set pretty high these days. Throw in Larry Wilmore, Stephen Colbert and Samantha Bee consistently offering dryer, sharper and less self-regarding comedy that Noah, and he’s starting to seem like someone who won’t outgrow his lightweight style. It’s not that he’s bad. But when correspondents Hasan Minhaj, Roy Wood Jr. and Jordan Klepper are often more pointed, by showing how the same writers’ words can be delivered with more restraint, something’s off. Sometimes, the show’s writers aren’t quite there either. On Thursday, Noah made fun of Supreme Court nominee Merrick Garland’s name, called him “totes adorbs” (yikes), tossed in a joke at the expense of older people, and called Marco Rubio “Little Marco.” Then he poured out three different bottles of water to make the same obvious Rubio joke. It was kind of funny at first, but it didn’t get better each time. (OK, Noah’s bit on John Kasich’s confetti was pretty excellent.) Often the best part of a Noah episode is the footage of Republicans loopiness, like the endless reel of Donald Trump using the term “amazing,” from Wednesday’s episode, or several days that ran videos of violence and threats at Trump’s rallies. On Thursday’s "Daily Show," it was the odd and meandering speech Mitch McConnell gave about Garland. This stuff was great, but Noah himself had very little to do with it. Larry Wilmore, by contrast, was wittier on Garland. (Making fun of the man’s name seems to be a requirement right now, and Wilmore did it better.) He managed to have fun with the courts issue – joking that if Congress wasn’t going to do its job, he wouldn’t do his, and checking his cellphone nonchalantly – without getting silly. For almost a year now, Wilmore has been covering the presidential election as a demonstration of “The Unblackening,” which he began with a report on Ted Cruz’s campaign appearance at Liberty University that has to be seen to be believed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5e6W... Wilmore calls Unblackening “The 'de-Negrofying' of the White House.” As he told Mashable:
When you have somebody like a Donald Trump. He made no bones about trying to disprove Barack Obama's Americanism in trying to make him out to be some foreigner that was born in Kenya — I thought that to be very racist. I don't think that was masked at all, and I feel like there has been an element ... of some ugly racial things. Not everyone is like that of course, and I think most people aren't. But there is a streak of that on that side, and it's not good. So that, to me, is part of my comic take. When people say "Let's take our country back," my way of saying that is, "Yes, you want to unblacken the White House."This frame gives a larger theme to Wilmore’s coverage, putting him in the line of Jon Stewart’s war against bullshit. And Wilmore gets across a moral weight. Noah’s version of “The Daily Show,” by contrast, seems to roll from joke to joke without adding up to much. Watch Noah chat with actor Theo James, and you see what he’s best at. He’s friendly, easygoing, well prepared and improvises well. Noah is a stand-up comedian first and foremost, and he has great instincts for bantering. He’s almost as good with Van Jones, mostly because Jones is able to run with the conversation. (This came after the Jones-Jeffrey Lord debate about the KKK, which was itself bleak comedy gold.) On the same episode, Noah gave an impression of a drowsy Ben Carson: He’s had a lot of practice at this one, and he’s got it down. But Noah can’t resist laughing at how funny he is. Will he keep that up as long as he’s behind the "Daily Show" desk? On Tuesday, similarly, he made a joke about an overzealous Italian waiter, and it started strong. “Conservatives love blaming Hillary for Benghazi; they push Benghazi like an Italian waiter pushes parmesan. ‘That’s enough. That’s enough. I’m good. Yeah, that’s enough -- thank you. No, no, I’m fine. I said when. I said when a long time ago.’ “ So did we, but Noah keeps going. On and on and on. The studio audience loved it, but on television, it was excessive. It all adds up to a guy who's a bit carried away with his own talent. No one is great at everything, and part of me wants to just watch Noah for his strengths. His working sense of comedy, admittedly, is probably a bit different from that of the other late-nights hosts. As he told Time Out:
I always believe that funny is serious and serious is funny. You don’t really need a distinction between them. If I’m doing something on stage and it evokes an emotion, then I might show that emotion, but I also don’t believe in being a preacher. If you have a point, that’s a bonus. But the funny has to come first, otherwise you shouldn’t call yourself a comedian.It sounds good when he spells it out that way. But Noah will put on a better show, one that plays to his own strengths and that grows from the tradition Jon Stewart established, if he takes this a little more seriously. Politics is important business -- especially this election! -- and if Wilmore, Colbert, Oliver and Bee can get the balance right, so can Noah.






Published on March 21, 2016 16:00
RuPaul gave me life: How “Drag Race” pulled me back from the depths of depression
“The time has come for you to lip-sync … for your life.” The first time I heard RuPaul dramatically utter these words, a weekly contestant elimination standard on Logo’s “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” was 2009. That statement, followed by a pair of spotlights arcing dramatically around a pair unfortunate drag queens who didn’t make the grade that week, marks the beginning of the end for one unfortunate. Not before the bottom two defend their right to claim their piece of the stage. The “lip-sync for your life is a battle royale” in which the weapons are spontaneous gymnastics, hairography and dramatically mouthed lyrics. If the situation is truly desperate, one contender might bust out a death drop – a leap into midair splits that plummets straight down to the boards hard enough to give the viewers at home phantom pains in their nethers. All of which is to say, if you’re one of Ru’s “girls” and he’s saying that to you, it’s time to turn it out. When I heard it for the first time, I could barely get out of bed. A weekly dose of wig-fluffing, sequined-sparkling pageantry that spotlights performers vying to become the Next Drag Superstar, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” returned for its eighth season (and has now passed its 100th episode) this month on Logo. The fact that “Drag Race” reached me at all some seven years ago was a minor miracle; very little else did. I was experiencing a depressive episode that felt like life had tied me to an anchor and thrown me into the sea; I had sunk down, way down, until I came to rest on the floor of my very own Mariana Trench of despair. If you’ve never felt like that for any sustained period of time, be grateful. Being down there made actions most people take for granted -- getting out of bed, showering -- feel crushing. Oh, I was moving through the world, even appearing to socialize. All the while, my sense of self-worth had disconnected from my physical body, flown away to parts unknown, buh-bye now! Walking around was an action achieved not by me, but by some meat suit simulacrum operated by a tiny alien. I was not a woman. I was barely human. Therefore, all of my communication was lip-syncing. “Hello.” “Can I get that on the side?” “I love you too.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” And to the person in the mirror, a gray-skinned, frizzy-haired specter I barely recognized, “I hate you.” The very concept of gorgeous was altogether forgotten, a memory as garbled and scratchy as an old club track. Gorgeous isn’t just a descriptor, it’s a feeling. Depression is the antithesis of feeling. Yet, here was Ru, a self-described “big old black man under all this makeup,” calling people – calling me – to lip-sync for my life. To wake the hell up and be gorgeous again. On its face, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” can be described at its most basic level as “Project Runway” meets “America’s Next Top Model,” only with gay men who both construct their own couture out of needles, thread, glue and, just as often, prayers, and stalk the runway. Its host, RuPaul Charles, became famous for his 1993 hit “Supermodel (Of the World)” and enjoyed a wave of fame through the ‘90s, all but disappearing during the following decade. His return in “Drag Race” marked his career rebirth, and after a barely viewed first season, the series took off. Unlike the “I’m here to win!” mentality fueling most reality competitions, “Drag Race’s” central message is that of triumphing over adversity by embracing what RuPaul describes as one’s “charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent.” (Words carefully chosen for the acronym.) Admittedly it’s not all sunshine and florals; this is a survival of the fiercest, and the claws come out the moment a new season’s engine growls to life. “Drag Race” isn’t just Logo’s most popular original series, it’s a pop culture phenomenon that’s been credited in part for helping forward the cause of LGBT rights worldwide. Before Caitlyn Jenner came out, before Amazon’s “Transparent” made transgender issues and rights a topic of dinner table conversation, “Drag Race” made a star out of Carmen Carrera, who revealed she was transitioning while she was on the show. If it takes guts for a woman to walk into public in an attention-commanding dress and sky-high heels – and don’t kid yourself, it really does – then to do all that as man or a trans woman in this society requires a steel will. Behind the irrepressible bubbliness and moxie of “Drag Race” All-Star Jujubee is Airline Inthyrath, a boy who was so in the habit of being insulted for his orientation that he said as a child, he used to answer to “faggot.” Season 4 contestant Timothy Wilcots, aka Latrice Royale, seduced me with his wisdom, his hilarious catchphrases (“Jesus is a biscuit – let him sop you up!”) and his unsinkable positivity; before “Drag Race,” he served jail time, forcing him to miss his mother’s funeral. The contestant pool has included survivors of assault, people abandoned by their parents or kicked out of their homes, men for whom being gay nearly cost them their lives. Second season winner Tyra Sanchez (aka James Ross IV) was homeless when he entered the competition. Yet they all found a way to get back up and, in the words of Latrice, “look sickening, and make them eat it.” I came to understand that drag is about more than artistic expression and celebration. It is armor, too, reminding the wearer of the joy and privilege of being alive. The line that pulls a soul back from the murk, the speck of grace that arrives to give you life, can be completely unexpected. I’m a person with a deep connection to the medium of television but little affection for unscripted TV. There was no way to predict that watching drag queens cake concealer on their T-zones and slather glue stick over their eyebrows would lead me back to the world of the living. Soon after watching the first few episodes of “Drag Race,” my morning ritual expanded from propping myself up to absorb the show’s bright spectrum of colors and glitter, to creating my own gender illusion. Showering would be followed by listening to Ru’s crystalline laughter and banter with contestants, as I excavated ancient makeup palettes from the depths of cluttered drawers. I adopted a practice of painting my eyelids, and brushing the illusionary pink of health into drawn cheeks and peeling lips. I wish I could say that the power of drag and “Drag Race” healed me, hallelujah! Not the case, not by a long shot. Rather, consciously spending time with each hour was one of many balms that put me on the path to self-care and getting well. “Anyone who has the courage to break free and follow their heart is my hero,” Ru said in the opener of Season 2, and though I still felt a hole aching in my center, I began to reclaim and restore the ruins that were my face, my hair…my fingertips, toes, legs, my entire body. Episodes played in the background each morning before work while I lavished my lashes with mascara, or drenched my flaky skin with lotion. “I’m taking the stage. I’m owning it. I’m here, bitches!” Ru crowed in another segment, and I took that to heart. If the real me couldn’t live right now, then this other version of me I’d created out of creams, elixirs and old powder, the drag me, would have to carry a tired bitch through the world for a while. And she did that, for at least two years. Drag Me was confident, poised. Drag Me stood her ground, tried new things, wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself or stumble. Eventually I began getting my hair styled, purchased new cosmetics. Went to the dentist. Took dance classes. Showed up at birthday parties, at weddings. Showed up for life. Somewhere around Season 5 or 6, I realized that my drag persona didn’t have to carry that exhausted other girl anymore. The old me was gone, a faded star that collapsed into a black hole, vacuumed in all the woes of the cosmos, and blinked out. One hundred episodes into “Drag Race,” it, too, has become more full of itself, in the best sense of that term. Contestants are noticeably working for the cameras, doing what they can to stand out and create marketable personas. Any reality series that stays on the air long enough loses some of its specialness and mystery, but that’s fine. At least it’s around. RuPaul, meanwhile, has become a figure beloved by many for being equal parts host extraordinaire, motivational guru, pop star and comedian, not to mention a shameless marketing genius who could sprinkle rhinestones on a snow cone and sell it to a polar bear. But even after 100 episodes, some aspects blessedly remain the same as they did from the start. At the end of every show – post lip-sync, after the eliminated queen has “sashayed away,” Ru reminds viewers, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna somebody else? Can I get an amen up in here?” For the queen who sold me on the idea of reclaiming my life? Gladly. Amen.“The time has come for you to lip-sync … for your life.” The first time I heard RuPaul dramatically utter these words, a weekly contestant elimination standard on Logo’s “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” was 2009. That statement, followed by a pair of spotlights arcing dramatically around a pair unfortunate drag queens who didn’t make the grade that week, marks the beginning of the end for one unfortunate. Not before the bottom two defend their right to claim their piece of the stage. The “lip-sync for your life is a battle royale” in which the weapons are spontaneous gymnastics, hairography and dramatically mouthed lyrics. If the situation is truly desperate, one contender might bust out a death drop – a leap into midair splits that plummets straight down to the boards hard enough to give the viewers at home phantom pains in their nethers. All of which is to say, if you’re one of Ru’s “girls” and he’s saying that to you, it’s time to turn it out. When I heard it for the first time, I could barely get out of bed. A weekly dose of wig-fluffing, sequined-sparkling pageantry that spotlights performers vying to become the Next Drag Superstar, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” returned for its eighth season (and has now passed its 100th episode) this month on Logo. The fact that “Drag Race” reached me at all some seven years ago was a minor miracle; very little else did. I was experiencing a depressive episode that felt like life had tied me to an anchor and thrown me into the sea; I had sunk down, way down, until I came to rest on the floor of my very own Mariana Trench of despair. If you’ve never felt like that for any sustained period of time, be grateful. Being down there made actions most people take for granted -- getting out of bed, showering -- feel crushing. Oh, I was moving through the world, even appearing to socialize. All the while, my sense of self-worth had disconnected from my physical body, flown away to parts unknown, buh-bye now! Walking around was an action achieved not by me, but by some meat suit simulacrum operated by a tiny alien. I was not a woman. I was barely human. Therefore, all of my communication was lip-syncing. “Hello.” “Can I get that on the side?” “I love you too.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” And to the person in the mirror, a gray-skinned, frizzy-haired specter I barely recognized, “I hate you.” The very concept of gorgeous was altogether forgotten, a memory as garbled and scratchy as an old club track. Gorgeous isn’t just a descriptor, it’s a feeling. Depression is the antithesis of feeling. Yet, here was Ru, a self-described “big old black man under all this makeup,” calling people – calling me – to lip-sync for my life. To wake the hell up and be gorgeous again. On its face, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” can be described at its most basic level as “Project Runway” meets “America’s Next Top Model,” only with gay men who both construct their own couture out of needles, thread, glue and, just as often, prayers, and stalk the runway. Its host, RuPaul Charles, became famous for his 1993 hit “Supermodel (Of the World)” and enjoyed a wave of fame through the ‘90s, all but disappearing during the following decade. His return in “Drag Race” marked his career rebirth, and after a barely viewed first season, the series took off. Unlike the “I’m here to win!” mentality fueling most reality competitions, “Drag Race’s” central message is that of triumphing over adversity by embracing what RuPaul describes as one’s “charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent.” (Words carefully chosen for the acronym.) Admittedly it’s not all sunshine and florals; this is a survival of the fiercest, and the claws come out the moment a new season’s engine growls to life. “Drag Race” isn’t just Logo’s most popular original series, it’s a pop culture phenomenon that’s been credited in part for helping forward the cause of LGBT rights worldwide. Before Caitlyn Jenner came out, before Amazon’s “Transparent” made transgender issues and rights a topic of dinner table conversation, “Drag Race” made a star out of Carmen Carrera, who revealed she was transitioning while she was on the show. If it takes guts for a woman to walk into public in an attention-commanding dress and sky-high heels – and don’t kid yourself, it really does – then to do all that as man or a trans woman in this society requires a steel will. Behind the irrepressible bubbliness and moxie of “Drag Race” All-Star Jujubee is Airline Inthyrath, a boy who was so in the habit of being insulted for his orientation that he said as a child, he used to answer to “faggot.” Season 4 contestant Timothy Wilcots, aka Latrice Royale, seduced me with his wisdom, his hilarious catchphrases (“Jesus is a biscuit – let him sop you up!”) and his unsinkable positivity; before “Drag Race,” he served jail time, forcing him to miss his mother’s funeral. The contestant pool has included survivors of assault, people abandoned by their parents or kicked out of their homes, men for whom being gay nearly cost them their lives. Second season winner Tyra Sanchez (aka James Ross IV) was homeless when he entered the competition. Yet they all found a way to get back up and, in the words of Latrice, “look sickening, and make them eat it.” I came to understand that drag is about more than artistic expression and celebration. It is armor, too, reminding the wearer of the joy and privilege of being alive. The line that pulls a soul back from the murk, the speck of grace that arrives to give you life, can be completely unexpected. I’m a person with a deep connection to the medium of television but little affection for unscripted TV. There was no way to predict that watching drag queens cake concealer on their T-zones and slather glue stick over their eyebrows would lead me back to the world of the living. Soon after watching the first few episodes of “Drag Race,” my morning ritual expanded from propping myself up to absorb the show’s bright spectrum of colors and glitter, to creating my own gender illusion. Showering would be followed by listening to Ru’s crystalline laughter and banter with contestants, as I excavated ancient makeup palettes from the depths of cluttered drawers. I adopted a practice of painting my eyelids, and brushing the illusionary pink of health into drawn cheeks and peeling lips. I wish I could say that the power of drag and “Drag Race” healed me, hallelujah! Not the case, not by a long shot. Rather, consciously spending time with each hour was one of many balms that put me on the path to self-care and getting well. “Anyone who has the courage to break free and follow their heart is my hero,” Ru said in the opener of Season 2, and though I still felt a hole aching in my center, I began to reclaim and restore the ruins that were my face, my hair…my fingertips, toes, legs, my entire body. Episodes played in the background each morning before work while I lavished my lashes with mascara, or drenched my flaky skin with lotion. “I’m taking the stage. I’m owning it. I’m here, bitches!” Ru crowed in another segment, and I took that to heart. If the real me couldn’t live right now, then this other version of me I’d created out of creams, elixirs and old powder, the drag me, would have to carry a tired bitch through the world for a while. And she did that, for at least two years. Drag Me was confident, poised. Drag Me stood her ground, tried new things, wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself or stumble. Eventually I began getting my hair styled, purchased new cosmetics. Went to the dentist. Took dance classes. Showed up at birthday parties, at weddings. Showed up for life. Somewhere around Season 5 or 6, I realized that my drag persona didn’t have to carry that exhausted other girl anymore. The old me was gone, a faded star that collapsed into a black hole, vacuumed in all the woes of the cosmos, and blinked out. One hundred episodes into “Drag Race,” it, too, has become more full of itself, in the best sense of that term. Contestants are noticeably working for the cameras, doing what they can to stand out and create marketable personas. Any reality series that stays on the air long enough loses some of its specialness and mystery, but that’s fine. At least it’s around. RuPaul, meanwhile, has become a figure beloved by many for being equal parts host extraordinaire, motivational guru, pop star and comedian, not to mention a shameless marketing genius who could sprinkle rhinestones on a snow cone and sell it to a polar bear. But even after 100 episodes, some aspects blessedly remain the same as they did from the start. At the end of every show – post lip-sync, after the eliminated queen has “sashayed away,” Ru reminds viewers, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna somebody else? Can I get an amen up in here?” For the queen who sold me on the idea of reclaiming my life? Gladly. Amen.“The time has come for you to lip-sync … for your life.” The first time I heard RuPaul dramatically utter these words, a weekly contestant elimination standard on Logo’s “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” was 2009. That statement, followed by a pair of spotlights arcing dramatically around a pair unfortunate drag queens who didn’t make the grade that week, marks the beginning of the end for one unfortunate. Not before the bottom two defend their right to claim their piece of the stage. The “lip-sync for your life is a battle royale” in which the weapons are spontaneous gymnastics, hairography and dramatically mouthed lyrics. If the situation is truly desperate, one contender might bust out a death drop – a leap into midair splits that plummets straight down to the boards hard enough to give the viewers at home phantom pains in their nethers. All of which is to say, if you’re one of Ru’s “girls” and he’s saying that to you, it’s time to turn it out. When I heard it for the first time, I could barely get out of bed. A weekly dose of wig-fluffing, sequined-sparkling pageantry that spotlights performers vying to become the Next Drag Superstar, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” returned for its eighth season (and has now passed its 100th episode) this month on Logo. The fact that “Drag Race” reached me at all some seven years ago was a minor miracle; very little else did. I was experiencing a depressive episode that felt like life had tied me to an anchor and thrown me into the sea; I had sunk down, way down, until I came to rest on the floor of my very own Mariana Trench of despair. If you’ve never felt like that for any sustained period of time, be grateful. Being down there made actions most people take for granted -- getting out of bed, showering -- feel crushing. Oh, I was moving through the world, even appearing to socialize. All the while, my sense of self-worth had disconnected from my physical body, flown away to parts unknown, buh-bye now! Walking around was an action achieved not by me, but by some meat suit simulacrum operated by a tiny alien. I was not a woman. I was barely human. Therefore, all of my communication was lip-syncing. “Hello.” “Can I get that on the side?” “I love you too.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” And to the person in the mirror, a gray-skinned, frizzy-haired specter I barely recognized, “I hate you.” The very concept of gorgeous was altogether forgotten, a memory as garbled and scratchy as an old club track. Gorgeous isn’t just a descriptor, it’s a feeling. Depression is the antithesis of feeling. Yet, here was Ru, a self-described “big old black man under all this makeup,” calling people – calling me – to lip-sync for my life. To wake the hell up and be gorgeous again. On its face, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” can be described at its most basic level as “Project Runway” meets “America’s Next Top Model,” only with gay men who both construct their own couture out of needles, thread, glue and, just as often, prayers, and stalk the runway. Its host, RuPaul Charles, became famous for his 1993 hit “Supermodel (Of the World)” and enjoyed a wave of fame through the ‘90s, all but disappearing during the following decade. His return in “Drag Race” marked his career rebirth, and after a barely viewed first season, the series took off. Unlike the “I’m here to win!” mentality fueling most reality competitions, “Drag Race’s” central message is that of triumphing over adversity by embracing what RuPaul describes as one’s “charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent.” (Words carefully chosen for the acronym.) Admittedly it’s not all sunshine and florals; this is a survival of the fiercest, and the claws come out the moment a new season’s engine growls to life. “Drag Race” isn’t just Logo’s most popular original series, it’s a pop culture phenomenon that’s been credited in part for helping forward the cause of LGBT rights worldwide. Before Caitlyn Jenner came out, before Amazon’s “Transparent” made transgender issues and rights a topic of dinner table conversation, “Drag Race” made a star out of Carmen Carrera, who revealed she was transitioning while she was on the show. If it takes guts for a woman to walk into public in an attention-commanding dress and sky-high heels – and don’t kid yourself, it really does – then to do all that as man or a trans woman in this society requires a steel will. Behind the irrepressible bubbliness and moxie of “Drag Race” All-Star Jujubee is Airline Inthyrath, a boy who was so in the habit of being insulted for his orientation that he said as a child, he used to answer to “faggot.” Season 4 contestant Timothy Wilcots, aka Latrice Royale, seduced me with his wisdom, his hilarious catchphrases (“Jesus is a biscuit – let him sop you up!”) and his unsinkable positivity; before “Drag Race,” he served jail time, forcing him to miss his mother’s funeral. The contestant pool has included survivors of assault, people abandoned by their parents or kicked out of their homes, men for whom being gay nearly cost them their lives. Second season winner Tyra Sanchez (aka James Ross IV) was homeless when he entered the competition. Yet they all found a way to get back up and, in the words of Latrice, “look sickening, and make them eat it.” I came to understand that drag is about more than artistic expression and celebration. It is armor, too, reminding the wearer of the joy and privilege of being alive. The line that pulls a soul back from the murk, the speck of grace that arrives to give you life, can be completely unexpected. I’m a person with a deep connection to the medium of television but little affection for unscripted TV. There was no way to predict that watching drag queens cake concealer on their T-zones and slather glue stick over their eyebrows would lead me back to the world of the living. Soon after watching the first few episodes of “Drag Race,” my morning ritual expanded from propping myself up to absorb the show’s bright spectrum of colors and glitter, to creating my own gender illusion. Showering would be followed by listening to Ru’s crystalline laughter and banter with contestants, as I excavated ancient makeup palettes from the depths of cluttered drawers. I adopted a practice of painting my eyelids, and brushing the illusionary pink of health into drawn cheeks and peeling lips. I wish I could say that the power of drag and “Drag Race” healed me, hallelujah! Not the case, not by a long shot. Rather, consciously spending time with each hour was one of many balms that put me on the path to self-care and getting well. “Anyone who has the courage to break free and follow their heart is my hero,” Ru said in the opener of Season 2, and though I still felt a hole aching in my center, I began to reclaim and restore the ruins that were my face, my hair…my fingertips, toes, legs, my entire body. Episodes played in the background each morning before work while I lavished my lashes with mascara, or drenched my flaky skin with lotion. “I’m taking the stage. I’m owning it. I’m here, bitches!” Ru crowed in another segment, and I took that to heart. If the real me couldn’t live right now, then this other version of me I’d created out of creams, elixirs and old powder, the drag me, would have to carry a tired bitch through the world for a while. And she did that, for at least two years. Drag Me was confident, poised. Drag Me stood her ground, tried new things, wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself or stumble. Eventually I began getting my hair styled, purchased new cosmetics. Went to the dentist. Took dance classes. Showed up at birthday parties, at weddings. Showed up for life. Somewhere around Season 5 or 6, I realized that my drag persona didn’t have to carry that exhausted other girl anymore. The old me was gone, a faded star that collapsed into a black hole, vacuumed in all the woes of the cosmos, and blinked out. One hundred episodes into “Drag Race,” it, too, has become more full of itself, in the best sense of that term. Contestants are noticeably working for the cameras, doing what they can to stand out and create marketable personas. Any reality series that stays on the air long enough loses some of its specialness and mystery, but that’s fine. At least it’s around. RuPaul, meanwhile, has become a figure beloved by many for being equal parts host extraordinaire, motivational guru, pop star and comedian, not to mention a shameless marketing genius who could sprinkle rhinestones on a snow cone and sell it to a polar bear. But even after 100 episodes, some aspects blessedly remain the same as they did from the start. At the end of every show – post lip-sync, after the eliminated queen has “sashayed away,” Ru reminds viewers, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna somebody else? Can I get an amen up in here?” For the queen who sold me on the idea of reclaiming my life? Gladly. Amen.“The time has come for you to lip-sync … for your life.” The first time I heard RuPaul dramatically utter these words, a weekly contestant elimination standard on Logo’s “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” was 2009. That statement, followed by a pair of spotlights arcing dramatically around a pair unfortunate drag queens who didn’t make the grade that week, marks the beginning of the end for one unfortunate. Not before the bottom two defend their right to claim their piece of the stage. The “lip-sync for your life is a battle royale” in which the weapons are spontaneous gymnastics, hairography and dramatically mouthed lyrics. If the situation is truly desperate, one contender might bust out a death drop – a leap into midair splits that plummets straight down to the boards hard enough to give the viewers at home phantom pains in their nethers. All of which is to say, if you’re one of Ru’s “girls” and he’s saying that to you, it’s time to turn it out. When I heard it for the first time, I could barely get out of bed. A weekly dose of wig-fluffing, sequined-sparkling pageantry that spotlights performers vying to become the Next Drag Superstar, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” returned for its eighth season (and has now passed its 100th episode) this month on Logo. The fact that “Drag Race” reached me at all some seven years ago was a minor miracle; very little else did. I was experiencing a depressive episode that felt like life had tied me to an anchor and thrown me into the sea; I had sunk down, way down, until I came to rest on the floor of my very own Mariana Trench of despair. If you’ve never felt like that for any sustained period of time, be grateful. Being down there made actions most people take for granted -- getting out of bed, showering -- feel crushing. Oh, I was moving through the world, even appearing to socialize. All the while, my sense of self-worth had disconnected from my physical body, flown away to parts unknown, buh-bye now! Walking around was an action achieved not by me, but by some meat suit simulacrum operated by a tiny alien. I was not a woman. I was barely human. Therefore, all of my communication was lip-syncing. “Hello.” “Can I get that on the side?” “I love you too.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” And to the person in the mirror, a gray-skinned, frizzy-haired specter I barely recognized, “I hate you.” The very concept of gorgeous was altogether forgotten, a memory as garbled and scratchy as an old club track. Gorgeous isn’t just a descriptor, it’s a feeling. Depression is the antithesis of feeling. Yet, here was Ru, a self-described “big old black man under all this makeup,” calling people – calling me – to lip-sync for my life. To wake the hell up and be gorgeous again. On its face, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” can be described at its most basic level as “Project Runway” meets “America’s Next Top Model,” only with gay men who both construct their own couture out of needles, thread, glue and, just as often, prayers, and stalk the runway. Its host, RuPaul Charles, became famous for his 1993 hit “Supermodel (Of the World)” and enjoyed a wave of fame through the ‘90s, all but disappearing during the following decade. His return in “Drag Race” marked his career rebirth, and after a barely viewed first season, the series took off. Unlike the “I’m here to win!” mentality fueling most reality competitions, “Drag Race’s” central message is that of triumphing over adversity by embracing what RuPaul describes as one’s “charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent.” (Words carefully chosen for the acronym.) Admittedly it’s not all sunshine and florals; this is a survival of the fiercest, and the claws come out the moment a new season’s engine growls to life. “Drag Race” isn’t just Logo’s most popular original series, it’s a pop culture phenomenon that’s been credited in part for helping forward the cause of LGBT rights worldwide. Before Caitlyn Jenner came out, before Amazon’s “Transparent” made transgender issues and rights a topic of dinner table conversation, “Drag Race” made a star out of Carmen Carrera, who revealed she was transitioning while she was on the show. If it takes guts for a woman to walk into public in an attention-commanding dress and sky-high heels – and don’t kid yourself, it really does – then to do all that as man or a trans woman in this society requires a steel will. Behind the irrepressible bubbliness and moxie of “Drag Race” All-Star Jujubee is Airline Inthyrath, a boy who was so in the habit of being insulted for his orientation that he said as a child, he used to answer to “faggot.” Season 4 contestant Timothy Wilcots, aka Latrice Royale, seduced me with his wisdom, his hilarious catchphrases (“Jesus is a biscuit – let him sop you up!”) and his unsinkable positivity; before “Drag Race,” he served jail time, forcing him to miss his mother’s funeral. The contestant pool has included survivors of assault, people abandoned by their parents or kicked out of their homes, men for whom being gay nearly cost them their lives. Second season winner Tyra Sanchez (aka James Ross IV) was homeless when he entered the competition. Yet they all found a way to get back up and, in the words of Latrice, “look sickening, and make them eat it.” I came to understand that drag is about more than artistic expression and celebration. It is armor, too, reminding the wearer of the joy and privilege of being alive. The line that pulls a soul back from the murk, the speck of grace that arrives to give you life, can be completely unexpected. I’m a person with a deep connection to the medium of television but little affection for unscripted TV. There was no way to predict that watching drag queens cake concealer on their T-zones and slather glue stick over their eyebrows would lead me back to the world of the living. Soon after watching the first few episodes of “Drag Race,” my morning ritual expanded from propping myself up to absorb the show’s bright spectrum of colors and glitter, to creating my own gender illusion. Showering would be followed by listening to Ru’s crystalline laughter and banter with contestants, as I excavated ancient makeup palettes from the depths of cluttered drawers. I adopted a practice of painting my eyelids, and brushing the illusionary pink of health into drawn cheeks and peeling lips. I wish I could say that the power of drag and “Drag Race” healed me, hallelujah! Not the case, not by a long shot. Rather, consciously spending time with each hour was one of many balms that put me on the path to self-care and getting well. “Anyone who has the courage to break free and follow their heart is my hero,” Ru said in the opener of Season 2, and though I still felt a hole aching in my center, I began to reclaim and restore the ruins that were my face, my hair…my fingertips, toes, legs, my entire body. Episodes played in the background each morning before work while I lavished my lashes with mascara, or drenched my flaky skin with lotion. “I’m taking the stage. I’m owning it. I’m here, bitches!” Ru crowed in another segment, and I took that to heart. If the real me couldn’t live right now, then this other version of me I’d created out of creams, elixirs and old powder, the drag me, would have to carry a tired bitch through the world for a while. And she did that, for at least two years. Drag Me was confident, poised. Drag Me stood her ground, tried new things, wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself or stumble. Eventually I began getting my hair styled, purchased new cosmetics. Went to the dentist. Took dance classes. Showed up at birthday parties, at weddings. Showed up for life. Somewhere around Season 5 or 6, I realized that my drag persona didn’t have to carry that exhausted other girl anymore. The old me was gone, a faded star that collapsed into a black hole, vacuumed in all the woes of the cosmos, and blinked out. One hundred episodes into “Drag Race,” it, too, has become more full of itself, in the best sense of that term. Contestants are noticeably working for the cameras, doing what they can to stand out and create marketable personas. Any reality series that stays on the air long enough loses some of its specialness and mystery, but that’s fine. At least it’s around. RuPaul, meanwhile, has become a figure beloved by many for being equal parts host extraordinaire, motivational guru, pop star and comedian, not to mention a shameless marketing genius who could sprinkle rhinestones on a snow cone and sell it to a polar bear. But even after 100 episodes, some aspects blessedly remain the same as they did from the start. At the end of every show – post lip-sync, after the eliminated queen has “sashayed away,” Ru reminds viewers, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna somebody else? Can I get an amen up in here?” For the queen who sold me on the idea of reclaiming my life? Gladly. Amen.“The time has come for you to lip-sync … for your life.” The first time I heard RuPaul dramatically utter these words, a weekly contestant elimination standard on Logo’s “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” was 2009. That statement, followed by a pair of spotlights arcing dramatically around a pair unfortunate drag queens who didn’t make the grade that week, marks the beginning of the end for one unfortunate. Not before the bottom two defend their right to claim their piece of the stage. The “lip-sync for your life is a battle royale” in which the weapons are spontaneous gymnastics, hairography and dramatically mouthed lyrics. If the situation is truly desperate, one contender might bust out a death drop – a leap into midair splits that plummets straight down to the boards hard enough to give the viewers at home phantom pains in their nethers. All of which is to say, if you’re one of Ru’s “girls” and he’s saying that to you, it’s time to turn it out. When I heard it for the first time, I could barely get out of bed. A weekly dose of wig-fluffing, sequined-sparkling pageantry that spotlights performers vying to become the Next Drag Superstar, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” returned for its eighth season (and has now passed its 100th episode) this month on Logo. The fact that “Drag Race” reached me at all some seven years ago was a minor miracle; very little else did. I was experiencing a depressive episode that felt like life had tied me to an anchor and thrown me into the sea; I had sunk down, way down, until I came to rest on the floor of my very own Mariana Trench of despair. If you’ve never felt like that for any sustained period of time, be grateful. Being down there made actions most people take for granted -- getting out of bed, showering -- feel crushing. Oh, I was moving through the world, even appearing to socialize. All the while, my sense of self-worth had disconnected from my physical body, flown away to parts unknown, buh-bye now! Walking around was an action achieved not by me, but by some meat suit simulacrum operated by a tiny alien. I was not a woman. I was barely human. Therefore, all of my communication was lip-syncing. “Hello.” “Can I get that on the side?” “I love you too.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” And to the person in the mirror, a gray-skinned, frizzy-haired specter I barely recognized, “I hate you.” The very concept of gorgeous was altogether forgotten, a memory as garbled and scratchy as an old club track. Gorgeous isn’t just a descriptor, it’s a feeling. Depression is the antithesis of feeling. Yet, here was Ru, a self-described “big old black man under all this makeup,” calling people – calling me – to lip-sync for my life. To wake the hell up and be gorgeous again. On its face, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” can be described at its most basic level as “Project Runway” meets “America’s Next Top Model,” only with gay men who both construct their own couture out of needles, thread, glue and, just as often, prayers, and stalk the runway. Its host, RuPaul Charles, became famous for his 1993 hit “Supermodel (Of the World)” and enjoyed a wave of fame through the ‘90s, all but disappearing during the following decade. His return in “Drag Race” marked his career rebirth, and after a barely viewed first season, the series took off. Unlike the “I’m here to win!” mentality fueling most reality competitions, “Drag Race’s” central message is that of triumphing over adversity by embracing what RuPaul describes as one’s “charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent.” (Words carefully chosen for the acronym.) Admittedly it’s not all sunshine and florals; this is a survival of the fiercest, and the claws come out the moment a new season’s engine growls to life. “Drag Race” isn’t just Logo’s most popular original series, it’s a pop culture phenomenon that’s been credited in part for helping forward the cause of LGBT rights worldwide. Before Caitlyn Jenner came out, before Amazon’s “Transparent” made transgender issues and rights a topic of dinner table conversation, “Drag Race” made a star out of Carmen Carrera, who revealed she was transitioning while she was on the show. If it takes guts for a woman to walk into public in an attention-commanding dress and sky-high heels – and don’t kid yourself, it really does – then to do all that as man or a trans woman in this society requires a steel will. Behind the irrepressible bubbliness and moxie of “Drag Race” All-Star Jujubee is Airline Inthyrath, a boy who was so in the habit of being insulted for his orientation that he said as a child, he used to answer to “faggot.” Season 4 contestant Timothy Wilcots, aka Latrice Royale, seduced me with his wisdom, his hilarious catchphrases (“Jesus is a biscuit – let him sop you up!”) and his unsinkable positivity; before “Drag Race,” he served jail time, forcing him to miss his mother’s funeral. The contestant pool has included survivors of assault, people abandoned by their parents or kicked out of their homes, men for whom being gay nearly cost them their lives. Second season winner Tyra Sanchez (aka James Ross IV) was homeless when he entered the competition. Yet they all found a way to get back up and, in the words of Latrice, “look sickening, and make them eat it.” I came to understand that drag is about more than artistic expression and celebration. It is armor, too, reminding the wearer of the joy and privilege of being alive. The line that pulls a soul back from the murk, the speck of grace that arrives to give you life, can be completely unexpected. I’m a person with a deep connection to the medium of television but little affection for unscripted TV. There was no way to predict that watching drag queens cake concealer on their T-zones and slather glue stick over their eyebrows would lead me back to the world of the living. Soon after watching the first few episodes of “Drag Race,” my morning ritual expanded from propping myself up to absorb the show’s bright spectrum of colors and glitter, to creating my own gender illusion. Showering would be followed by listening to Ru’s crystalline laughter and banter with contestants, as I excavated ancient makeup palettes from the depths of cluttered drawers. I adopted a practice of painting my eyelids, and brushing the illusionary pink of health into drawn cheeks and peeling lips. I wish I could say that the power of drag and “Drag Race” healed me, hallelujah! Not the case, not by a long shot. Rather, consciously spending time with each hour was one of many balms that put me on the path to self-care and getting well. “Anyone who has the courage to break free and follow their heart is my hero,” Ru said in the opener of Season 2, and though I still felt a hole aching in my center, I began to reclaim and restore the ruins that were my face, my hair…my fingertips, toes, legs, my entire body. Episodes played in the background each morning before work while I lavished my lashes with mascara, or drenched my flaky skin with lotion. “I’m taking the stage. I’m owning it. I’m here, bitches!” Ru crowed in another segment, and I took that to heart. If the real me couldn’t live right now, then this other version of me I’d created out of creams, elixirs and old powder, the drag me, would have to carry a tired bitch through the world for a while. And she did that, for at least two years. Drag Me was confident, poised. Drag Me stood her ground, tried new things, wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself or stumble. Eventually I began getting my hair styled, purchased new cosmetics. Went to the dentist. Took dance classes. Showed up at birthday parties, at weddings. Showed up for life. Somewhere around Season 5 or 6, I realized that my drag persona didn’t have to carry that exhausted other girl anymore. The old me was gone, a faded star that collapsed into a black hole, vacuumed in all the woes of the cosmos, and blinked out. One hundred episodes into “Drag Race,” it, too, has become more full of itself, in the best sense of that term. Contestants are noticeably working for the cameras, doing what they can to stand out and create marketable personas. Any reality series that stays on the air long enough loses some of its specialness and mystery, but that’s fine. At least it’s around. RuPaul, meanwhile, has become a figure beloved by many for being equal parts host extraordinaire, motivational guru, pop star and comedian, not to mention a shameless marketing genius who could sprinkle rhinestones on a snow cone and sell it to a polar bear. But even after 100 episodes, some aspects blessedly remain the same as they did from the start. At the end of every show – post lip-sync, after the eliminated queen has “sashayed away,” Ru reminds viewers, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna somebody else? Can I get an amen up in here?” For the queen who sold me on the idea of reclaiming my life? Gladly. Amen.







Published on March 21, 2016 15:59
“Parenting isn’t safe, it’s challenging”: Clive Owen on building trust with his young “Confirmation” co-star
Clive Owen, whose breakout role was the title character in “Croupier,” plays “Go Fish” with his character's 8-year-old son Anthony (an excellent Jaeden Lieberher) in “The Confirmation.” This new comedy-drama, written and directed by Bob Nelson (who penned “Nebraska”), features Owen as Walt, an alcoholic carpenter who has lost his house, his money, his marriage and his truck when his tool set, a family heirloom, is stolen. The film shows the craggy-faced actor’s ability to fully inhabit a character; Walt still appreciates the value of hard work, and craftsmanship. His pride may be suffering, but his spirit is strong. Owen excels at giving flinty performances, and playing men who are flawed but trying to be noble. He has enlivened many a modest film, such as “Greenfingers,” where he played a prisoner with a talent for gardening. “The Confirmation” is another comedy-drama in this same vein. Lieberher, who appeared in “St. Vincent,” more than holds his own as a wise-beyond-his-years kid who never seems cloying or precocious. The on-screen father and son team spoke with Salon about working together and work ethics, as well as clean living, and parenting. Clive, Walt talks about the “illusion of perfection” that handymen create. You tend to play characters who try to pass as having it all under control. Can you discuss that aspect of your screen roles? Owen: Yeah, I am attracted to playing characters in conflict. To play someone flawed is, to me, to play someone believable. We’re all flawed. We grapple with conflict and it’s more interesting for me to do that. The job of acting is to understand what your character is going through, especially when they are not perfect. Are you handy like Walt—can you fix broken or sticky doors, or are you like Anthony’s stepfather, Kyle (Matthew Modine), who pays people to do it? Owen: No, I’m not good at that. But it’s a personal story for Bob [Nelson], whose father is a good carpenter, so I leaned on him to make it look like I knew what I was doing. Jaeden, how did you bond with Clive as an on-screen father? Lieberher: We spent a lot of time with each other before shooting. We went on bike rides on the weekend. I think the best thing to do when forming that kind of specific relationship is to make it natural. I don’t think it’s right to force it. So we got to know each other. We didn’t do anything specific. It wasn’t important for us to form an estranged and awkward relationship. It’s easier to act when you’re not close, than to act when you are close. Owen: Good point. Clive, you’ve played a father before in “The Boys Are Back.” As a parent yourself, how do you approach fatherhood on-screen? Owen: I think, following on Jaeden’s point, that as a parent there’s an understanding, and a level of communication involved. So when I see a relationship [on-screen], it has to be believable. It’s getting comfortable and learning to trust the other actor. That’s what sells it. That’s what’s key with working with a younger actor—getting them to trust me, so you can go to darker places to get uncomfortable and weird. You need to go to those places. Parenting isn’t safe, it’s challenging. Jaeden, what lessons do you learn from Clive, or even Bill Murray in “St. Vincent,” that have informed your acting? Lieberher: Working with so many great actors has definitely helped me become better. When I worked with Clive, he told me to work hard on my acting skills and never stop working. He was always trying to help me develop the characters. He inspired me to become better. The film has a metaphor about clean living—no drinking, no sinning, fix what is broken; get off your ass and clean up your house/yard. Walt gets into some fights in the film, and teaches Anthony how to box. Are you guys tough guys? Or do you subscribe to a clean living kind of a lifestyle? Owen: Tough guys? Not really. That theme is very much a Bob thing. Walt is struggling and down on his luck, but he has a moral compass and responsible. He’s getting to know his son better. If things were better, he’d be a good dad, but life can be tough and get in the way sometimes. Lieberher: I agree. No one’s perfect. And people have different things about them that people can look up to and become better. The character of Walt has some issues, but so does everyone else. They can overcome those problems, like alcohol, by developing better traits. What can you say about the themes of masculinity and coming of age? Do you think “The Confirmation” is showing Anthony what being a man is? Lieberher: I think that in the beginning of the film Anthony is smart and kind and has manners, but over the course of the film he learns how to protect himself and the people he loves. He really grows up in that way. By the end, he finds a true father figure he needs. Owen: I think that the film is a journey for both of them and they meet in the middle. Walt is vulnerable, but as they travel together there’s a real hope for him. There’s considerable talk about Walt’s pride in his work—the trellis, for example, but also the bookcases and cabinets in the house he used to live in. Why do you think Walt started drinking? How did he lose his self-worth? Where did his demons come from? Owen: That’s hard to say about anyone who develops that problem. The film is non-judgmental. Walt has issues—but he is still decent. He has pride in his work. People take things for granted and don’t respect that. Anthony has questions about the importance of religion; Walt says he doesn’t know the answers. What are your views on faith and spirituality? Is Walt, a Christ-like figure? Jesus was a carpenter… Owen: I don’t know about that. The theme is a young boy grappling with things, and wondering what to do and how to do it. You make your own decisions in life and you try to make the best decision you can. You have to live with yourself. Lieberher: I agree. It’s a belief; some people have, and some don’t. It’s up to you to decide what you want to believe in, and you don’t have to figure it out right away. I don’t think Walt or Anthony have figured it out yet. But they will.Clive Owen, whose breakout role was the title character in “Croupier,” plays “Go Fish” with his character's 8-year-old son Anthony (an excellent Jaeden Lieberher) in “The Confirmation.” This new comedy-drama, written and directed by Bob Nelson (who penned “Nebraska”), features Owen as Walt, an alcoholic carpenter who has lost his house, his money, his marriage and his truck when his tool set, a family heirloom, is stolen. The film shows the craggy-faced actor’s ability to fully inhabit a character; Walt still appreciates the value of hard work, and craftsmanship. His pride may be suffering, but his spirit is strong. Owen excels at giving flinty performances, and playing men who are flawed but trying to be noble. He has enlivened many a modest film, such as “Greenfingers,” where he played a prisoner with a talent for gardening. “The Confirmation” is another comedy-drama in this same vein. Lieberher, who appeared in “St. Vincent,” more than holds his own as a wise-beyond-his-years kid who never seems cloying or precocious. The on-screen father and son team spoke with Salon about working together and work ethics, as well as clean living, and parenting. Clive, Walt talks about the “illusion of perfection” that handymen create. You tend to play characters who try to pass as having it all under control. Can you discuss that aspect of your screen roles? Owen: Yeah, I am attracted to playing characters in conflict. To play someone flawed is, to me, to play someone believable. We’re all flawed. We grapple with conflict and it’s more interesting for me to do that. The job of acting is to understand what your character is going through, especially when they are not perfect. Are you handy like Walt—can you fix broken or sticky doors, or are you like Anthony’s stepfather, Kyle (Matthew Modine), who pays people to do it? Owen: No, I’m not good at that. But it’s a personal story for Bob [Nelson], whose father is a good carpenter, so I leaned on him to make it look like I knew what I was doing. Jaeden, how did you bond with Clive as an on-screen father? Lieberher: We spent a lot of time with each other before shooting. We went on bike rides on the weekend. I think the best thing to do when forming that kind of specific relationship is to make it natural. I don’t think it’s right to force it. So we got to know each other. We didn’t do anything specific. It wasn’t important for us to form an estranged and awkward relationship. It’s easier to act when you’re not close, than to act when you are close. Owen: Good point. Clive, you’ve played a father before in “The Boys Are Back.” As a parent yourself, how do you approach fatherhood on-screen? Owen: I think, following on Jaeden’s point, that as a parent there’s an understanding, and a level of communication involved. So when I see a relationship [on-screen], it has to be believable. It’s getting comfortable and learning to trust the other actor. That’s what sells it. That’s what’s key with working with a younger actor—getting them to trust me, so you can go to darker places to get uncomfortable and weird. You need to go to those places. Parenting isn’t safe, it’s challenging. Jaeden, what lessons do you learn from Clive, or even Bill Murray in “St. Vincent,” that have informed your acting? Lieberher: Working with so many great actors has definitely helped me become better. When I worked with Clive, he told me to work hard on my acting skills and never stop working. He was always trying to help me develop the characters. He inspired me to become better. The film has a metaphor about clean living—no drinking, no sinning, fix what is broken; get off your ass and clean up your house/yard. Walt gets into some fights in the film, and teaches Anthony how to box. Are you guys tough guys? Or do you subscribe to a clean living kind of a lifestyle? Owen: Tough guys? Not really. That theme is very much a Bob thing. Walt is struggling and down on his luck, but he has a moral compass and responsible. He’s getting to know his son better. If things were better, he’d be a good dad, but life can be tough and get in the way sometimes. Lieberher: I agree. No one’s perfect. And people have different things about them that people can look up to and become better. The character of Walt has some issues, but so does everyone else. They can overcome those problems, like alcohol, by developing better traits. What can you say about the themes of masculinity and coming of age? Do you think “The Confirmation” is showing Anthony what being a man is? Lieberher: I think that in the beginning of the film Anthony is smart and kind and has manners, but over the course of the film he learns how to protect himself and the people he loves. He really grows up in that way. By the end, he finds a true father figure he needs. Owen: I think that the film is a journey for both of them and they meet in the middle. Walt is vulnerable, but as they travel together there’s a real hope for him. There’s considerable talk about Walt’s pride in his work—the trellis, for example, but also the bookcases and cabinets in the house he used to live in. Why do you think Walt started drinking? How did he lose his self-worth? Where did his demons come from? Owen: That’s hard to say about anyone who develops that problem. The film is non-judgmental. Walt has issues—but he is still decent. He has pride in his work. People take things for granted and don’t respect that. Anthony has questions about the importance of religion; Walt says he doesn’t know the answers. What are your views on faith and spirituality? Is Walt, a Christ-like figure? Jesus was a carpenter… Owen: I don’t know about that. The theme is a young boy grappling with things, and wondering what to do and how to do it. You make your own decisions in life and you try to make the best decision you can. You have to live with yourself. Lieberher: I agree. It’s a belief; some people have, and some don’t. It’s up to you to decide what you want to believe in, and you don’t have to figure it out right away. I don’t think Walt or Anthony have figured it out yet. But they will.Clive Owen, whose breakout role was the title character in “Croupier,” plays “Go Fish” with his character's 8-year-old son Anthony (an excellent Jaeden Lieberher) in “The Confirmation.” This new comedy-drama, written and directed by Bob Nelson (who penned “Nebraska”), features Owen as Walt, an alcoholic carpenter who has lost his house, his money, his marriage and his truck when his tool set, a family heirloom, is stolen. The film shows the craggy-faced actor’s ability to fully inhabit a character; Walt still appreciates the value of hard work, and craftsmanship. His pride may be suffering, but his spirit is strong. Owen excels at giving flinty performances, and playing men who are flawed but trying to be noble. He has enlivened many a modest film, such as “Greenfingers,” where he played a prisoner with a talent for gardening. “The Confirmation” is another comedy-drama in this same vein. Lieberher, who appeared in “St. Vincent,” more than holds his own as a wise-beyond-his-years kid who never seems cloying or precocious. The on-screen father and son team spoke with Salon about working together and work ethics, as well as clean living, and parenting. Clive, Walt talks about the “illusion of perfection” that handymen create. You tend to play characters who try to pass as having it all under control. Can you discuss that aspect of your screen roles? Owen: Yeah, I am attracted to playing characters in conflict. To play someone flawed is, to me, to play someone believable. We’re all flawed. We grapple with conflict and it’s more interesting for me to do that. The job of acting is to understand what your character is going through, especially when they are not perfect. Are you handy like Walt—can you fix broken or sticky doors, or are you like Anthony’s stepfather, Kyle (Matthew Modine), who pays people to do it? Owen: No, I’m not good at that. But it’s a personal story for Bob [Nelson], whose father is a good carpenter, so I leaned on him to make it look like I knew what I was doing. Jaeden, how did you bond with Clive as an on-screen father? Lieberher: We spent a lot of time with each other before shooting. We went on bike rides on the weekend. I think the best thing to do when forming that kind of specific relationship is to make it natural. I don’t think it’s right to force it. So we got to know each other. We didn’t do anything specific. It wasn’t important for us to form an estranged and awkward relationship. It’s easier to act when you’re not close, than to act when you are close. Owen: Good point. Clive, you’ve played a father before in “The Boys Are Back.” As a parent yourself, how do you approach fatherhood on-screen? Owen: I think, following on Jaeden’s point, that as a parent there’s an understanding, and a level of communication involved. So when I see a relationship [on-screen], it has to be believable. It’s getting comfortable and learning to trust the other actor. That’s what sells it. That’s what’s key with working with a younger actor—getting them to trust me, so you can go to darker places to get uncomfortable and weird. You need to go to those places. Parenting isn’t safe, it’s challenging. Jaeden, what lessons do you learn from Clive, or even Bill Murray in “St. Vincent,” that have informed your acting? Lieberher: Working with so many great actors has definitely helped me become better. When I worked with Clive, he told me to work hard on my acting skills and never stop working. He was always trying to help me develop the characters. He inspired me to become better. The film has a metaphor about clean living—no drinking, no sinning, fix what is broken; get off your ass and clean up your house/yard. Walt gets into some fights in the film, and teaches Anthony how to box. Are you guys tough guys? Or do you subscribe to a clean living kind of a lifestyle? Owen: Tough guys? Not really. That theme is very much a Bob thing. Walt is struggling and down on his luck, but he has a moral compass and responsible. He’s getting to know his son better. If things were better, he’d be a good dad, but life can be tough and get in the way sometimes. Lieberher: I agree. No one’s perfect. And people have different things about them that people can look up to and become better. The character of Walt has some issues, but so does everyone else. They can overcome those problems, like alcohol, by developing better traits. What can you say about the themes of masculinity and coming of age? Do you think “The Confirmation” is showing Anthony what being a man is? Lieberher: I think that in the beginning of the film Anthony is smart and kind and has manners, but over the course of the film he learns how to protect himself and the people he loves. He really grows up in that way. By the end, he finds a true father figure he needs. Owen: I think that the film is a journey for both of them and they meet in the middle. Walt is vulnerable, but as they travel together there’s a real hope for him. There’s considerable talk about Walt’s pride in his work—the trellis, for example, but also the bookcases and cabinets in the house he used to live in. Why do you think Walt started drinking? How did he lose his self-worth? Where did his demons come from? Owen: That’s hard to say about anyone who develops that problem. The film is non-judgmental. Walt has issues—but he is still decent. He has pride in his work. People take things for granted and don’t respect that. Anthony has questions about the importance of religion; Walt says he doesn’t know the answers. What are your views on faith and spirituality? Is Walt, a Christ-like figure? Jesus was a carpenter… Owen: I don’t know about that. The theme is a young boy grappling with things, and wondering what to do and how to do it. You make your own decisions in life and you try to make the best decision you can. You have to live with yourself. Lieberher: I agree. It’s a belief; some people have, and some don’t. It’s up to you to decide what you want to believe in, and you don’t have to figure it out right away. I don’t think Walt or Anthony have figured it out yet. But they will.







Published on March 21, 2016 15:58
Going somewhere? Try one of the 10 places named as most ethical travel destinations

Just like recycling’s “Reduce, reuse then recycle”, there’s a hierarchy: “Don’t fly, fly with the most efficient airline (always in economy), then offset.” So check efficiency first, using Atmosfair’s airline ranking (Air France comes top). Then choose your offset scheme — it must be verifiable, traceable and permanent. Only look at schemes that conform to the Verified Carbon Standard or Clean Development Mechanism.But changes in behavior must also come from within the airline industry, and not just by offering customers the ability to purchase carbon offsets. In November, Nsikan Akpna, a digital science producer for PBS NewsHour, published an article that rounded up “seven simple airplane fixes [that] could cut carbon emission in half at little to no cost,” such as reducing tarmac idling (which resulted in 200 million gallons of excess fuel burn in 2010 alone) or using electric motors instead of jet fuel to drive planes on the ground (which could save nearly 80,000 gallons of fuel per aircraft per year). Lawmakers can do their part by mandating industry-wide changes. In 2013, climate change regulation in the European Union went into effect, putting a cap on carbon emissions for airplanes arriving or departing from EU airports, so those airlines now trade in pollution permits on a carbon market specifically set up for the aviation industry, which Siegle notes in the Guardian is “an incentive for airlines to invest in eco-friendly fleets.” Ethical destinations We can offset the ecological impact of our own air travel, but where to go? Ethical Traveler has you covered. The nonprofit advocacy group, a project of the Berkeley-based Earth Island Institute, recently released its annual list of the 10 Best Ethical Destinations for 2016. By analyzing nations based on several criteria, including performance in the areas of human rights, social welfare, animal welfare and environmental protection, the group has determined the 10 most forward-looking countries across the developing world right now. Ethical Traveler says visiting these countries is a way to "reward the good guys — and encourage humane practices worldwide.” So book your (carbon-offsetted, economy-class) tickets and pack your (sustainably sourced, locally made, eco-friendly) bags: Here are the Top 10 Most Ethical Travel Destinations for 2016. 1. Cabo Verde*
















Published on March 21, 2016 15:57
Stryper gets in on the Ted Cruz meme: Christian heavy metal band confirms he won’t tour with the band!
The internet has been having way too much fun with Ted Cruz's face, which Rolling Stone's Matt Taibbi memorably wrote, "looks like someone sewed pieces of a waterlogged Reagan mask together at gunpoint." Cruz's striking visage has led online sleuths to spawn conspiracy theories linking him to the Zodiac Killer, Robert Kardashian, Kevin from "The Office," Grandpa Munster and Duke basketball player Grayson Allen. But our favorite Cruz conspiracy theory says that the Texas senator has been secretly shredding righteous guitar solos as a member of the Christian metal band Stryper. Could Stryper frontman Michael Sweet and Ted Cruz really be the same man? The Daily Dot's Jay Hathaway laid out the hypothesis:

You've got to admit, it's a compelling theory. Ted Cruz was a Christian mime in high school, so a leap into this black-and-yellow striped racing costume, isn't so farfetched, right? And, unlike Cruz and the Zodiac Killer, Cruz and Stryper lead singer Michael Sweet are less than 10 years apart in age. They're both about the same height, too.
But alas, sometimes even the most airtight conspiracy theories get debunked. Stryper, best remembered for their perfectly feathered hair and bumblebee onesies, confirmed in a press release Monday that Ted Cruz will not join the band on its upcoming world tour. No word yet on whether Cruz will appear with the band after his presidential campaign.





Published on March 21, 2016 15:27
Trouble for Trump’s chief: Allegations of assault, sexual harassment piling up against Trump campaign manager Corey Lewandowski
Corey Lewandowski, Donald Trump's campaign manager, has been under a heap of scrutiny for allegedly manhandling former-Breitbart reporter Michelle Fields and, more recently, for yanking the collar of a protester at a rally over the weekend. What's worse, according to BuzzFeed, Lewandowski allegedly has a lengthy track record of lewd and aggressive behavior:

(T)he strategist was accused of pushing a CNN reporter who tried to ask the candidate a question; physically confronting an aide for a rival campaign in a post-debate spin room; publicly shouting threats over the phone at a restaurant; making sexual comments about female journalists; and calling up women in the campaign press corps late at night to make unwanted romantic advances.Perhaps more damning than Lewandowski's alleged thuggishness is his reputation for sexually harassing female reporters. "More than once, he has called female reporters late at night to come on to them, often not sounding entirely sober," the report alleges. "Some in the press corps joke that if Lewandowski is calling after a certain hour, women are better off not answering." Asked to respond to the charges, Lewandowski told BuzzFeed in an email, "Your story is factually inaccurate," warning, "Be sure before you accuse me of something it’s accurate. And, in these instances you are wrong." Read the full report over at BuzzFeed.Corey Lewandowski, Donald Trump's campaign manager, has been under a heap of scrutiny for allegedly manhandling former-Breitbart reporter Michelle Fields and, more recently, for yanking the collar of a protester at a rally over the weekend. What's worse, according to BuzzFeed, Lewandowski allegedly has a lengthy track record of lewd and aggressive behavior:
(T)he strategist was accused of pushing a CNN reporter who tried to ask the candidate a question; physically confronting an aide for a rival campaign in a post-debate spin room; publicly shouting threats over the phone at a restaurant; making sexual comments about female journalists; and calling up women in the campaign press corps late at night to make unwanted romantic advances.Perhaps more damning than Lewandowski's alleged thuggishness is his reputation for sexually harassing female reporters. "More than once, he has called female reporters late at night to come on to them, often not sounding entirely sober," the report alleges. "Some in the press corps joke that if Lewandowski is calling after a certain hour, women are better off not answering." Asked to respond to the charges, Lewandowski told BuzzFeed in an email, "Your story is factually inaccurate," warning, "Be sure before you accuse me of something it’s accurate. And, in these instances you are wrong." Read the full report over at BuzzFeed.






Published on March 21, 2016 14:20
“Took pandering to a new level”: Progressives, Palestinians criticize Hillary Clinton for “Israeli PR” AIPAC speech
Democratic front-runner Hillary Clinton headlined the annual policy conference of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, or AIPAC, on Monday. She aggressively voiced support for Israel and hard-line right-wing Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and made no mention of the Israeli military's almost five-decade-long illegal occupation of the Palestinian territories. Clinton also blasted her opponent Bernie Sanders, the only presidential candidate to turn down the invitation to speak at the AIPAC conference, for promising to be neutral on Israel-Palestine. Sanders said he would pursue a "level playing field" in negotiations, something Clinton insisted she would never imagine of doing. Many progressives, young Americans and Jewish Americans are distancing themselves from Israel, which is increasingly far-right. The current administration is the most right-wing government ever in Israel, and Netanyahu will soon be the longest serving prime minister in the nation's history — acting as head of state for even longer than Israeli founding father David Ben-Gurion. Numerous progressive organizations and Palestinian leaders publicly condemned Clinton for her profusely pro-Israel remarks. "The speech that Hillary Clinton gave to AIPAC took pandering to a new level," said Yousef Munayyer in a statement. Munayyer, the executive director of the U.S. Campaign to End the Israeli Occupation, noted that Clinton's speech "could well have been written by an Israeli government public relations firm." He accused Clinton's remarks of being "out of touch with Americans and in particular the base of the Democratic party." "Clinton promised to never be neutral and yet most Americans consistently express that they want the United States to be even-handed between Israel and the Palestinians," Munayyer said. "When one looks at public opinion among Democrats alone, this sentiment is even stronger and sympathy for Palestinians is even higher. This is especially true in the progressive base of the Democratic party — indeed the future of the party — made up of youth and minorities." "This reflexive deference to pro-Israel interest groups has been at the foundation of failed U.S. policy on the peace process," he said. The social justice group Jewish Voice for Peace, or JVP, which is very critical of the Israeli government and its oppression of the Palestinians, blasted Clinton for her remarks. Rebecca Vilkomerson, the executive director of JVP, said in a statement that the discussion at AIPAC "relies on racist and Islamophobic tropes to justify unquestioning support for Israel." "From Democrats to Republicans, the message is the same: more arms for Israel, a stronger relationship between Israel and the U.S., no mention of Palestinian rights, and no recognition of the impossible contradiction of being both democratic and Jewish when the state is predicated on maintaining systems of unequal rights and rule by military occupation," Vilkomerson said. “From both sides of the aisle," she added, "speakers dehumanize Palestinians and obscure their calls for dignity and freedom." Many Palestinian leaders were intensely critical of Clinton's comments. Diana Buttu, a Palestinian attorney and political analyst who previously advised the Palestine Liberation Organization, said in a statement: "Secretary Clinton acknowledged that the U.S. is not ‘neutral’ when it comes to Israel and made plain that the U.S. will veto any UN Security Council action against Israel. Yet, she continues to demand that Palestinians negotiate with their oppressor and occupier. This is akin to asking a domestic abuse victim to negotiate with the abuser with the courts and police openly and fully supporting the actions of the abuser." "Notably, both [Vice President Joe] Biden’s and Clinton’s speeches demonstrate the growing strength of the BDS movement," she said, referring to Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions, a global grassroots campaign that seeks to use peaceful economic mechanisms to pressure Israel to comply with international law and respect Palestinian human rights. In their remarks at AIPAC, Buttu added, both Clinton and Biden "implicitly acknowledged that the world has recognized that Israel must be isolated for its continued denial of freedom to Palestinians and that the BDS movement is having a strong impact on Israel and its supporters." Ahmad Tibi, one of the very few Palestinian legislators in Israel's parliament the Knesset, also slammed the hawkish former secretary of state for her comments. "Clinton's AIPAC speech today was a strong indication that she still doesn't understand the pressing need for Palestinian freedom," Tibi said. "Her embrace of Israel is reminiscent of Western leaders shoring up apartheid South African leaders decades ago," he added. "Quite frankly, her views on Israel are antiquated. Israel is a country hunkering down and isolating itself from progressive values of equality and freedom by continuing to build illegal settlements on stolen land and enforcing over 50 discriminatory laws for Palestinian citizens of Israel," Tibi added. The Israeli human rights organization Adalah has documented more than 50 laws enacted since 1948 that "directly or indirectly discriminate against Palestinian citizens of Israel in all areas of life." "Clinton's determination to link America so closely to an Israel reverting to the apartheid and colonialism abandoned by much of the world," Tibi concluded, "suggests she will be incapable as a world leader in standing up to Israeli expansion and insisting on freedom for Palestinians."







Published on March 21, 2016 13:45