Archive for December, 2008

On Les Vacances

25Dec08

In which The Gay Recluse goes abroad. Dear readers, we are off to “the Europe” through New Year’s, and so will not be posting here until 2009. During this time, we encourage you to read (gay) novels, watch Visconti, take long walks in Washington Heights and send us as many smokin’ hot statues as you […]


In which The Tsarina takes over The Gay Recluse on Christmas Eve. The Tsarina would like to extend her holiday greetings to her fellow Russian Blues, Dante and Zephyr.  (As for human beings, she remains extremely ambivalent.) She notes that she prefers the full sofa to the smaller love seat.


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report. After we read Keith Banner’s The Smallest People Alive, we could not have imagined a more fucked-up society/culture than the low-class Midwest (US) described so effectively by Banner; imagine our surprise then, when we turned to another set of short stories — The Scent of Cinnamon […]


In which The Gay Recluse holds a contest. Sort of. Today reader (and blogger and Twitterer par excellence) Atherton Bartelby kindly sent in the following note, just days before leaving Hawaii for the mainland (or whatever we’re called over here). Atherton writes: I finally snapped a photograph of one of the Hot Gay Statues on […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers life as an indie rocker. After obsessing about the Hipster Runoff review of TV on the Radio for the past two days, we realized that it had sent us into a retroactive identity crisis. It was as if it were fifteen years ago, and we were just starting a […]


In which The Gay Recluse watches weather fronts. Yesterday when we woke up, it was freezing rain; but suddenly in the afternoon, the front lifted. Within minutes, the sky was bright. As we observed this, our thoughts also began to seem less muddled; we could breathe easier. No problem was insurmountable! Little did we know […]


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report. The Smallest People Alive is a collection of short stories by Keith Banner, published in 2003 by Carnegie Mellon University Press. Set in the cultural wasteland of the Midwest, the characters live in rental apartments, housing projects and trailer parks; they work at mental institutions, amusement […]


In which The Gay Recluse maybe becomes slightly more technically adept. Yesterday we took some footage of the snowstorm — or actually the aftermath — and made two vidoes with commentary. We had some technical diffs, though, so wanted to post them again in case anyway tried to click through and was harshly rebuffed! 1) […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with birds (and vlogs about it). Today we decided to go on a walk with our video camera. The streets were slushy and frozen after the snow; the magic of the previous night had dissipated with the sullen day. We trudged along, not really thinking about anything […]


In which The Gay Recluse vlogs. It’s been almost a year since we posted any video, but we decided to give it another shot: after all, we now have a Powerbook, which we were planning to use for all sorts of clever and witty entertainment. As you’ll see, we still have a long way to […]


In which The Gay Recluse writes a book report. Just as the snow began, we finished Among Other Things, I’ve Taken Up Smoking, a 2007 debut novel by Aoibheann Sweeney. The book is about a girl — Miranda — who grows up with her father on a tiny island off the coast of Maine; her […]


On Ludwig

18Dec08

In which The Gay Recluse loves Luchino Visconti best. In Ludwig, Luchino Visconti’s four-hour treatment of the 19th-century King of Bavaria, we are introduced to the king as a young man, but learn almost immediately — in what feels like a flash-forward — that he will eventually be dethroned by the state legislature for maybe being insane. […]


In which The Gay Recluse reads a book of signs. One strange thing about growing up in Pittsburgh was that even before we lived anywhere else, we used to say that it — i.e., Pittsburgh — was haunted. But when people would ask us why, we were at a loss to explain: either you got […]


In which The Gay Recluse is taken over by Zephyr. This December is even more stressful that usual, thanks to the economy. Everyone keeps canceling their holiday parties! And so what if you don’t get paid very much or have to work nights and weekends? At least you have a job! Maybe some day the […]


In which The Gay Recluse reaches into the mailbag. Today we received a letter from Reader J___ B___: I agree with the reader who took exception the the multiple image thing. One pic is fine, write what you want beneath it. A finger to me, and I’ll never bother with you again. J____ B____ is […]


In which The Gay Recluse says wtf. Somewhat cruelly, a reader just tipped us off about several things that we’d rather not ever have learned about, but which we are now compelled to share, to both shock and amuse you. 1) There is a blog called the Art of Manliness. Wtf, we could try to […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. For most of us, repetition is an unavoidable facet of modern life; we might even go as far as to say that it’s been like this as long as we have lived in one village or town or city. When we were […]


In which The Gay Recluse seeks to vex. Oh noes! It seems that we’ve upset Reader Arundel with our obsessive-compulsive need to repeat the same or similar photographic images over and over! Here’s what Arundel wrote: Hi. I forget where I first came across your blog, but I enjoy your posts and insights. Thank you. […]


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report.* In The Book of Getting Even (a title we love, btw!) by Benjamin Taylor, we meet some interesting characters: first (and last) there is Gabriel Geismar, a Jewish — and notably, unapologetically gay! — teenage boy from New Orleans with a horribly abusive father (a rabbi) […]


In which The Gay Recluse regrets not seeing Waltraud Meier’s Isolde. Before Friday night’s show at the Met, both the lead Isolde and her cover were sick and had to cancel. This sometimes happens! At the last minute, the Met was able to track down Waltraud Meier, who agreed to fly in from Munich for […]