The Malcontent

Michelangel-oh!

The famous Florentine Michelangelo, for whom the term "Renaissance Man" practically could have been invented, was infatuated with painting and sculpting the male form.  But as we now know, he loved to do other things to them too.

He liked to write poems about them.  (What did you think I meant?)

On Thursday, a new exhibit of Michelangelo's drawings taken from virtually his entire career opens at the British Museum in London.

So the timing was right for the UK's superb Gay Times magazine to run a spread of photos inspired by some of those 500-year-old images, courtesy of male model "Petr."

He seems a little "softer" than what we're used to in American magazines.  But to me, that only adds to the sexiness.  Or maybe I was just in shock from seeing Gay Times in Germany surrounded by several other mainstream publications with naked ladies on the cover.

What follows after the jump is NSFW, unless your boss likes it when you look at man-ass ...

Q&A With QBoy

My post last week on a segment on Logo's "The Advocate Newsmagazine" on hip-hop and homophobia generated some strong reactions.  Aside from facile charges of racism (defined by some as "disagreeing with someone whose skin coincidentally happens to be a different shade from your own"), some of the feedback was actually quite thoughtful.

None was more striking than an email I received from a British rapper named QBoy.  He copied me on an email he sent The Advocate taking exception with what he felt was its imbalanced portrayal of the issue.  QBoy, who is gay and white, was kind enough to sit down and talk with me about his very personal perspective on the issue.  (You can find his website at www.qboy.co.uk and his blog at www.myspace.com/supaboyq.)

Malcontent: Thanks for taking time to chat with me, QBoy.  You have said that “the idea that hip-hop equates to homophobia ... is false.”  Why do you think that?

QBoy: Because hip-hop is such a huge and broad culture.  It includes so many lovers, listeners, dancers, graf artists, producers, musicians, singers, rappers – millions of people.  They cannot all share the same viewpoint.  It is not possible.  And it is carried by the media that when they talk about hip-hop being homophobic, they are really talking about certain individuals and not the whole culture.  This to me is causing a further problem and not helping the matter.

Malcontent: But isn’t hip hop built on a super-masculinized ideal that some feel goes against homosexuality?

QBoy: No. One, your question supposes that being super-masculine is the opposite of being homosexual, which I think is incorrect.  Masculinity is about being a man, not a straight man.

Two, hip-hop is built on street culture and club culture, art, expression – it's only of recent that the super-masculine, “thug-gangsta rapper” has become prevalent in hip-hop.  But gangsta rap is not all that hip-hop is about; it is simply the most commercial and popular.

QBoy talks about some of the gay and pro-gay hip-hop artists, and more, after the jump.  (Oh, yeah.  And some of the pics are less safe for work than the one above, i.e., a butt shot!) ...

Must ... Have ... Culture!

If you had asked me three weeks ago whether I would have been anywhere on Dec. 9 but at the cineplex, enjoying my exalted status as a resident of one of Brokeback Mountain's "limited release" cities, I would have dismissed you in an instant.

Ah, but how life – and work – do intervene.

I'm now in London (where the hotel's 11 TV channels are only slightly less of a caricature than the four cheese-related channels of "National Lampoon's European Vacation") on the homestretch of this 11-day trip from which I will return Wednesday night.  In the meantime, of course, I have missed:

• Beef
• Pretty much anything worth seeing in the countries to which I have traveled
• The premiere of some TV reality shows
• The denouements of others
• And, yes, Brokeback Mountain.  (I suspect that those who think we are too obsessed with the topic are too young to understand the cultural significance of this moment.)

For now, I live vicariously through Kenneth, and others who will have said it all before I even get my chance.

I kissed the ground when I got back from China.  This time, I might just do so again for a host of different reasons.

If It's Sunday, It Must Be Switzerland

I made it out of Delhi today, but unfortunately, so did a bunch of stowaway bacteria in my alimentary canal.

Just a couple of hours before boarding my nine-hour flight, I began to realize that I had almost made it through the entire week without a dreaded bout with "Delhi belly."  Almost.  The next several hours were spent in relative misery punctuated by trips to the bathroom.

Fortunately, I am now in Geneva and the worst seems to be over.  The bug's worst impact was not on my stomach, but on the part of my body that an old friend would describe as "the south end of a north-bound horse."

It's not hard to guess what did me in.  I was given a box lunch in the hinterlands yesterday that included a salad of diced apples and walnuts.  Moronically, it didn't occur to me that eating the skin of fruits is tantamount to sticking your mouth up to a spigot of tainted water and slurping away.

Cameltoes, after the jump ...