Arena Of Celebrity (Part 1)

Oh we got yer full frontals folks! Soap Stars. Movie Stars! Former Athletes! Current Athletes! And even a current Doctor (Who)! Just another indulgence in the Famous Male Monday Posts

Menz That Make Me Smile

Thank you Darryl Stephens, Charles Divins, Cuba Gooding, Jr, Eric Dane and especially David Boreanaz (Mister Bones and Angel, himself!!!)

Padma

While I would never condemn someone's desire and willingness to pose nude, for Padma Lakshmi the concept seems somewhat beneath her social status.

You'd be surprised what you'll find when you Google her name. I came across several nude photos and that was with the adult search filter on. Who knows what would turn of if I turned it off???

I had forgotten she's married to Solman Rushdie too. Either Queen Hester or Lady Miss T told me that. Is it true they're getting divorced? If so, maybe that will finally fulfill CJ's fantasies!

Please, as if someone of her standing would get with him, not that there's anything wrong with him. As Padma pointed out though, even in her high heels, she still has to crane her neck up to him. Boy is tall!

Speaking of tall, check out Padma next to Chef Tom Colicchio. I know he's not short so it's got be Padma or her heals. Damn grrrl!

Need a Chef Fix

So yesterday I finally brought myself to watching the Top Chef finale and Reunion show. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'm not sure I agree with the judges Hung's food was the best, but then again, I wasn't there to eat it.

The finale episode reinforced I would never want to participate in a such a contest. It's too pretentious. That's not who I am. Fine dining is great and all, but I'm a home-style boy. My culinary idol is Sylvia Wood's, owner of Sylvia's in Harlem (an excellent eatery. I've been there several times)! Or even Paula Dean. That woman could fry gizzards in lard and I would eat it!

No, Top Chef called for my unconditional surrender and axed my dreams. My food comes from the heart, not some bourgeois sense of what food is supposed to be. I cook what I like. If I have to sacrifice my heart to become arrogant and so "cultured," I rather abandon the dream. Plus all my friends have downed the idea and been most unsupportive. I dunno, life for me seems slated to be just ordinary. Nothing wrong with that. We're not all destined for Top Chef. Some dreams are just that, dreams. Right?

Dale seemed so subdued on the Reunion show, not himself. He seemed disappointed in himself, but as all the judges noted, he made vast improvements as the season progressed. He overcame adversity in the last year and rose to the challenge. Kudos Dale!

OK, I've grown to like Dale. He's comical and seems genuine. I take back my previous comments about avoiding him, he'd probably be the life at any party! I found the link to his MySpace page and sent a request to be one of his friends. If you're curious about Mr. Levitski, here's the link: Dale's MySpace Profile.

Amusingly enough, I'm miss this season already. Padma has been on my mind lately. She fascinates me in way I can't explain. Besides the fact she gorgeous, there's definitely an air about her I can't put my finger on. I did some browsing and discovered some rousing pictures, including a nude photo. I'm not sure if it's really her or photoshopped, but damn, she's got a great body.

Supposedly Hung and Brian are bisexual, but that's conjecture. Notice Marcel Vigneron give Hung thay huge hug after he was announced Top Chef? Er'rybody knows Marcel's tastes sexually (allegedly). Maybe he and Hung are seeing each other? Perhaps.

I still don't like either Marcel or Hung. Hung was shocked by his portrayal this season, explaining it was only a competition, and he's a down to earth guy. Yeah, uh-huh, sure. While I was glad he didn't win fan favorite, a point Chef Tom seemed eager to make, I was disappointed Dale didn't win it either. At least Casey won it. I liked her second best.

So my only fix of Top Chef will be reruns and if Dale adds me as a friend on MySpace for a while. Season four should start filming soon enough. Project Runway will start next month, which means another reality show to get into. Oh the monotony of it all!!! LOL.

"Countrycide"

This week's episode of Torchwood scared me so bad, I don't want to talk about it! It was perhaps the worst of the series so far. Watching in bed, I had the blankets pulled over my head more than a few times. It was creepy. Yeah, I'm a puss. I hate scary shit and suspense has never been my favorite genre.

The one redeeming factor with tonight's episode was Ianto actually went on a mission with the team. My man Gareth David-Lloyd (Ianto's portrayer) was working those blue jeans! Everybody is all hot and bothered by John Barrrowman (Jack), but don't discount Ianto! Besides, who knows what extraterrestial STD you might catch from Jack? Ewww!

I loved the exchange between Jack and Ianto at the camp fire site. Oh the smoldering love! Poor Ianto turned away; couldn't stare our boy Jack in the face for long. The story hasn't addressed (yet) if Ianto was aware for that in-depth mouth-to-mouth snog...um resuscitation, I mean, or not. I know, kinda, what happens, just not the intricate details of how if all falls into place. But if John Barrowman gave me mouth-to-mouth like he did Ianto in the "Cyberwoman" episode, I'd sure know...whoa! Hotness!

Colliding Worlds (Part II)

I'm feelin' frustrated by the status of racial relations in our country, but shouldn't be surprised. Racism will never go away. I'm amazed by the things on both sides of the racial spectrum I've heard. To quote the over quoted Rodney King, "Can't we all just get along?" Seriously? Depeche Mode said 20+ years ago that people are people, so why do we get along so awfully? I just don't understand. We're in the 21st century race relations should be moving forward in a positive direction. Instead, things have gone underground, and appear to moving backward. Sigh.

I get angry because we're all human, all God's children. Is it the plight of the human condition to constantly divide and segregate? Is there no end to prejudice and strife?

WTF?!?! (2)

Colliding Worlds (Part I)

Wrestling with desire to go to Sheetz and buy a pack of cigarettes, my thoughts are a jumble this early morning. I'm sure I understand my own thinking right now. I don't expect anyone else to understand them either.

I've been blog hoppin' tonight: reading up on some blogs and listenin' to good tunes on CD. Events from yesterday weigh heavily on my mind. October 11Th was National Coming Out Day, which I forgot. No chagrin though, I'm as out as its going to get. While I'm out to friends and work associates, my family is the last obstacle to cross. I don't hide anything from them. I allow them to draw their own conclusions, but I don't broach the subject either. I won't. Too many thoughts of the past, too much remembering who I am, forbids me to allow myself to be lulled into any sense of security or acceptance from my family. "Remember kid, you were born a black man." The whole gay thing ain't a happy little Pride Parade for most black folks, especially not in my family.

Being introspective and aware of how different I am from most, there are issues to resolve. I've never been more aware how distant from others I stand than these last few weeks. I've actually have been catching up with reading with I'm out on short term disability (which soon will be long term disability). So far I caught up on some poetry by Nikki Giovanni, Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin In The Sun, and Richard Wright's Black Boy. Tonight, I finished Eric Jerome Dickey's Genevieve (more on that later).

All the above pieces of literature mentioned above deal with the heart of African American life and struggle with racism. It reminded me, soberingly, how fortunate I am to live in the times I do. That the blood, sweat, and tears of my predecessors, provided me the opportunity to skip about happy-go-lucky being a black non traditional sexual man, something no black male dared mentioned 40-50-60 years ago. If you were, as Gran'ma used to say "someone who butters their toast on the wrong side," you sure kept your mouth shut, were discreet, and didn't bring attention to yourself.

Additionally, how lucky am I to be born, and basically bred, in the North? I've lived in various area where racism could and can be rampant, like Kansas and Virginia, but never the deep, deep South... Never in any of the states on my top ten list I refuse to ever set foot in. The top three are all west of Georgia. (Care to take any guesses?) I have no doubt the Creator placed me where I am now because my fool ass couldn't have survived the riggers and oppression of the South. Oh hell no! I'm proud of my ancestors for their suffering, but no, I'll pass on living there!

Now before anyone thinks I'm bashing the South, let me say I respect it. Life is a little more honest there. If someone doesn't like, doesn't want to associate with you, people are upfront about it. Livin' here in Pennsylvania, well I've learned too many times people laugh and joke with you, then call you every racial epitaph behind your back. Folks pretend to be your friend, then your nigger at the first moment you step out of preconceived roles and boundaries. I was reminded of how close Central PA is too the good ol' South early this week..

I haven't gone into discussion about the Jena 6 situation, but it doesn't mean I'm disconnected from life's happenstances. I try to keep the Weilding the Axe lighthearted, fun, and use it as my own tool of self-discovery. I've been criticized by some anonymous folks for not addressing issues central to the African American community, for being a sellout, an Uncle Tom, a wanna-be, whatevah fro my likes, choices of music, and friends. I won't lie. The comments sting from time to time. I make note of comments, think about 'em, then remind myself that even though I'm not someone's expected notion of what a black man should be, unless I've truly gone off the deep end and really did sellout (gone OJ), there's nothing wrong with me. I know who the fuck I am! And no one has lived in my shoes and experienced my hurts, so don't judge me. I love my bruthas and sistahs, respect ya and envy ya. Cut a boy some slack! Anyway, my point being was I saw the news blurb online in nearby Lititz, Pennsylvania, a similar little racial brouhaha like Jena 6was developing with similar undertones, albeit, not to the current extremes as in Louisiana.

Three white students from Warwick High School have been charged with harassing African American and Latino students with racial slurs, throwing paper & garbage, displaying Confederate Flags, and the noose thing. Further, the high school student parking lot has an area known as "redneck row," where kids prominently showcase Confederate Flags in, on, and around their cars. OK, I won't go off on the whole business the Southern Cross is a symbol racial hatred, I think it's fairly obvious, don'tcha think? I understand why White Southerners cling fiercely to its symbol, but I will never comprehend why white Northerners cling to it so??? Traditionally, the South has hated the North for the its part in decimating the South. Oh, I won't go on that history lesson... er'rybody knows the real deal. A cracker is a peckerwood is a redneck is a racist. Does it really matter where in the USA they live?.

Interesting enough, as I'm writing this post I just saw Mycah Bell, one of the youths involved in the Jena 6 situation is back in jail.

Sigh...I'm not surprised at all at either situation. Central Pennsylvania is a little hotbed of racist activity, it just is kept quite, that's all. We have the the East Shore and the West Shore in Harrisburg. The West Shore, commonly referred as the "White Shore," because very few minorities live on that side of the Susquehanna River. I've heard some people referred to Harrisburg as Nigger-City (No not "n-word city." Forget euphemisms tonight, I'm in a mood! Deal with the word! It exists and unfortunately is used too frequently).

Lancaster County, where Lititz resides, is filled with racial tensions. From Ephrata to Brickerville to Manheim to Lititz to Neffsville to Millersville to Mountville to Columbia to Quarryville...on and on, I know how the county can be. I lived there. Oh its quiet, quaint at times, and if you're black, remember to keep your place, you might not experience any problems. Might not. All my friends of color have had one or more situations there. So have I.

(I know I'm jumping around, but I've got much on my mind)

Flashback to15-16 years ago during Gulf War I in the early 90s. At the time everyone was supporting all the deployed troops by tying yellow ribbons around trees, light posts, what have you. One afternoon a friend and I, two men of Negro ancestry, were walking down the street and I happened to see a ribbon on the ground near a telephone pole. Back then, I was a little more patriotic, so I picked it up, and fastened back up thinking I'd done a good deed, showed my support, and respect for the troops. Off we went, scurrying back to my apartment, and I thought nothing more about it. Five minutes lately, a borough police car (I won't say which borough police department, those who know me in real life know WHERE) pulled next to us. The officers proceeded to question us, saying they got a report some black men were seen ripping down these fucking ribbons.

Contrary to popular opinion, I can do the "yessuh, no suh" routine when needed. Yessssss, I did and do have a big mouth, but I had no desire to go to jail for something I didn't do, so I played it cool. To my best ability, I attempted to explain what actually happened as respectfully as I could muster, playing the, humble, subservient, Negro (you know the cops were white now, don't ask stupid shit!). The cops believed me, let us go, but the fuckers followed us all the way back to my apartment, then followed us in to prove we really lived there. Grrrrrr!

That's just one example. This post is getting long, but I have more to say on the matter. It'll have to wait until later in the day because I'm tired.

"Still I Rise"

I Rise!
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Mario Lopez

Happy 34th Birthday to Mario Lopez. What a handsome guy he turned out to be, huh?

WTF?!?!

OK, this is just weird. Why is F-list celebrity, Vanilla Ice, standing with 2 naked men? Don't remember this from The Surreal Life he participated in a few years back. WTF!?!?!?!?

Two Yanks & A Brit

Medalist No Mo

So Marion Jones surrendered each of her medals won in the 2000 Olympics and officially retired? Sigh...what has befallen our athletes these days? I mean, the steroid issue, just doesn't seem to go away does it? No matter what the the IOC or USOC does to prevent occurrence, it just keeps coming back.

I'm waiting now for the other shoe to fall, hear Maurice Greene was involved in steroid usage (I pray not), and watch him stripped of his Olympic accomplishments. I know this controversy has been lingering for months, but its one of those "Say it ain't so, Joe" deals. I guess we need to chalk this up for one more African American Athlete in disgrace for this year, Michael Vick, now Marion. Discouraging doesn't begin to express the disappointment.

A Week's Difference...Goodbye Phils

It's so sad here this morning. I got up this morning, hoping against hope, but knowing the truth. The Phillies got swept by the Rockies. Dammit. Last week this time folks were happy and thought there might be a chance. Now this week, the Phils have the long flight back home to Philadelphia.

Well, I wasn't sure how far they could go, baseball is a fickle sport, you never know what might happen. Time to move on and switch gears and support my American League team, the Boston Red Sox. I don't care who wins the National League title between the D-backs and Rockies, either team deserves to get to the big show.

So what does this defeat mean for the club overall? I'm not sure. Pat Gillick, the Phillies General Manager, announced he's leaving after his contract, Charlie Manuel's job could be on the line, yadda yadda, yadda. It's the same thing every year. Pitching is always problem, but it seems there's a functional block over the team. Like every other Phillies fan, I'm tired of "we'll get 'em next year"mentality. The pain, the suffering, the agony waiting year after year, is enough to test the loyalty of the most patience fans. How did Boston fans deal with it decade after decade until the BoSox won a few years back? Now that the Cubs are also evicted from the post season, how do Chicago fans deal with it? Ugh!

Still, depending on who makes the Series, hopefully it'll be good. So the contenders will be Diamondbacks/Rockies vs. Red Sox/Indians/Yankees? My picks personally? The Rockies and the Sox. Even though Colorado swept the Phils in three games, I'd chose them for the NL Champs. They obviously were the better team, but let's not take focus off Arizona. The Diamondbacks have hotter than hot (figuratively speaking) pitcher Brandon Webb, so they could come in like a desert storm to get to the World Series.

I don't much about the Cleveland Indians, so I can't predict how they'll fare against their challengers for the American League Champion title. I can only hope Boston wants it hard enough to defeat the Tribe. We'll see folks...

"Small Worlds"

OK, this is the week of disappointing television. Torchwood was crap tonight! The faeries episode was interesting, but the ending left me hanging for more resolution. Oh well.

Not every episode is going to be spectacular. Still, here's the score card for this week's viewing favorites. Last night's Doctor Who season finale, dreadful! This week's Avatar: The Last Airbender episode, lighthearted, but tame. Wednesday's Top Chef season finale, aggravating, and the Phillies losses to the Rockies on Wednesday and Thursday, gut-wrenching!

Aargh, I've been watching too much TV lately! At least I spent some time on the Internet researching the whole Jack-Ianto romance situation on Torchwood. I was able to dig up the long awaited, yet-to-air, confirmation in the following video clip. Alas, the kiss of love. Watch...

"The Last Of The Timelords"

All I have to say is "what a heinous piece of shit" the Doctor Who Season Three finale was!

I was very disappointed by how the three episode arc resolved itself with the return of the Master. And for why, for Torchwood's sake, did they reveal Captain Jack will become the Face of Bo? It sheds a dark light on Jack's future.

While I still like Doctor Who, I'll agree with my fellow Whovian geeks this new incarnation of the series seems to rush through things. Why kill off the Master??? He was the perfect foil for the Doctor. His own Moriarty! I read somewhere there are no intentions to bring the Master back either, but anyone who's ever watched the series know the Master has died, come back to life, died, come back to life, etc etc more times than Jean Grey (the Phoenix) from the X-Men! My only consolation is the implied reference there may be at least one more evil Timelord alive, The Rani (the red fingernail painted hand fishing the Master's ring out of the funeral pyre, the melodious female laughter, no doubt its her)!

I was also surprised Martha decided to stay behind and the Doctor, yet again, has to get another new companion to travel through time and space. The old series had the Doctor frequently change companions, but they all stayed more than a season or two, usually.

I read on the Sci-Fi Channel's message board the American broadcast of this episode was also heavily edited due to squeeze commercial sponsorship. Ugh! Just air the program unedited and extend the viewing time to include the necessary commercials. There's much about the new retooling of the series I don't like. With time (no pun intended), I hope the new series gets closer to its traditional roots. I understand the need to bring new appeal to 21st century audiences, but don't alienate old viewers or sacrifice quality by making the new series trite drivel!

Because This Cause Is MORE Important

Top Chef Season 3 Finale

I could bring myself to watch the final episode tonight. I was too nervous and talked myself out of watching. After the show was over I immediately went online to the Bravo website to find out the results. So, Hung won the title? Oh well, the judges must've seen something worthy in his cooking and technique to put him over above Casey and Dale. I'll have to watch the reruns this weekend to get all the gruesome details.

"On The Pulse Of Morning"

On The Pulse of Morning
by Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow
I will give you no hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance
Your mouths spilling words

Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
It says, come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,
Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the Rock were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

They hear the first and last of every Tree
Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

October: Post Season Sexy

OK, Breaking away from my stance on appreciating baseball for the sheer aspect of the sport, I decided to post of few pictures of the Boys of Summer to usher in the month of October.

Wow! I can't believe it's October already. 2007 has done its thing and is ready to roll on outta here! Soon Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the Holiday Season will be here! Whoa boys! Too Soon! Too Soon! I'm not ready to put away my sandals and shorts yet! I'm still not back to work, so thinking about Christmas-Kwanzaa shopping is too stressful to contemplate. Ack! No, no, no. I want summer back, LOL. No more tirades, kiddo. Face facts and own up to it. October is here!

Since October is the baseball post-season playtime, I decided to post tongue and cheek, if not ballsy, photos. Ah yes. Baseball is passionate alright. My favorite pix is former Seattle Mariner Jay Buhner grabbing those asses. Oh get over y'rself! I'm not all hot and bothered. It's more amusing than sexy, right? Well maybe a little sexy....(insert devious chuckle here)