Strange Turn of Events

Not a week after I left my politically-appointed State position, another state employee, the Governor himself, was forced to resign from office due to a very ironic incident involving himself and a high-end prostitution ring...the type of white collar, organized crime activity the busting of which he built his reputation.

Well, anyway, Governor Spitzer is essentially gone, and the governor-designee, Lieutenant Governor David Paterson, will be sworn in Monday at 1 p.m. in the Assembly Chamber, with a united government - the judiciary and the two houses of the legislature, along with the comptroller and the attorney general, together. Mr. Paterson has his work cut out for him, as we have a $4.4 billion budget deficit to overcome, major economic hurdles, and the challenge of making NYS a place to live and thrive in the 21st century. He brings a whole new bag of skills to the game than Governor Spitzer and a style that is more low-key, less-intense and probably more effective, too. He is well-regarded by his former legislative colleagues on both sides of the aisle.

Many years ago, I met the LG, when he was a state senator. He bought us a round of drinks on my birthday. I don't think I'll get a chance to repay him for that, but I remember the graciousness....and wish him well.

"Pornography...in Progress"

Notice the "actors" have no faces, no hair, no eyes...the are just bodies, where the director is much more detailed. I think I am going to keep it that way, add a camera and a stand up light and that will be it.

A Kubrick Joke

When Robert Altman died a year or two ago, he was led up to the pearly gates and welcomed by St. Peter. They walked across the threshold and into Heaven. Altman was happy to see people he knew and reognize people who were important to him.

Then he saw a fellow with a graying beard and balding head, wearing a green field jacket, blue shirt and beat up khakis. He was walking around taking photographs and asking his subjects to stand still and pose multiple times so he could get the right shot. Altman knew this man and was surprised to see him out and about, knowing how reclusive he could be.

"Wow," he said to St. Peter, " Heaven does wonders on people. Stanley Kubrick is actually out and about amongst the people up here."

Peter laughed.

"what's so funny."

"That's not Kubrick. He is reclusive. That's God...he only thinks he's Stanley Kubrick."

Kubris!

Recently, I started writing a screenplay, to be called "Pornography," which was to be a part of the novel I decided to sit on for a bit. "Pornography" is the story of a 50 something painter who decides he wants to make an existential erotic movie, examining the dark side of humanity and like the model for the painting, Stanley Kubrick, the duality of man.

Of course, if Kubrick had ever decided to make a pornography film, it would take years...first to do the research, then to develop a script, then to shoot it. How do you shoot perfection in something as imperfect as a sexual act on film? It would have been neat to find out.

Anyway, here's the Kubrick/Painter picture.

I Had a Steam with a Sex Blogger

....an Anchor Steam, and she is not just any sex blogger, she is a friend and a very good writer. You can see her work at www.sexegesis.blogspot.com.

We are both writers and hung out at the White Horse Tavern, corner of Bank Street and Hudson. Watering hole for the likes of Anais Nin and Norman Mailer, and where the poet Dylan Thomas drank 18 whiskeys and then died the next day.

After hanging out there, we walked around Christopher Street and checked out a few fetish shops. One had a good amount of leather wear and some PVC, among other things (not sure if this is a family website), and then we made our way to the East Village, to McSorley's and then the Burp Castle. Back in the day, the Burp Castle used to have a whole theme with waiters and barstaff dressed as monks, with chants played on the CD player, where one had to be soft spoken when one talked. The only aspect that remained was the low volume for talk. No chants, no monks. Good beer though. I had a Lucifer!

We also got caught in a bit of a downpour. Nothing worse than wet denims.

Overall, a very nice day and a good time. My friend is always a pleasure to hang with. And, as I said, a very good writer. Funny too. She's great at using the final line of her piece and bringing everything together.

Writing at the White Horse Tavern





With a whiskey: one down, seventeen to go!





A cigar at an actual in-house cigar shop.