For her debut feature, But I’m a Cheerleader, Jamie Babbit chooses a worthy target for satire, skewering the groups that seek to turn homosexuals straight through self-styled “reorientation.” 17-year-old high-school cheerleader Megan doesn’t enjoy her boyfriend’s tongue-heavy kisses, has pictures of girls in her locker, and has started eating tofu. Clearly, her friends and family agree, she is on a boat bound for the Isle of Lesbos. So her parents (’70s icons Bud Cort and Mink Stole) ship her off to

True Directions, a rehabilitation camp run by the Nurse Ratched-like Mary (Cathy Moriarty) and her counselor, “ex-gay” Mike (a goateed, drag-free RuPaul). The irony is that it never occurs to Megan that she might be a lesbian until she is forced to admit that she is gay as step one of the rehabilitation process. Thrown in with eight other teens, she soon finds herself stealing glances at tough-but-sexy tomboy Graham (Clea DuVall), an attraction that leads her to recognize the true nature of her sexual identity.

It’s a great premise, and Babbit almost pulls it off. Walking the line between kitsch and reality, she has rendered her vision in a candy-copia of color, turning the camp into a gender-ordered playhouse of hyperreal hues and stylized sets where boys are dressed in bright blue and girls in pink. If only the script were as unrelentingly colorful and fun. While there is much that is amusing, — particularly the rehabilitating activities; boys learn how to chop wood with masculine vigor, girls practice vacuuming and changing diapers, and both engage in hilarious simulated heterosexual sex sessions together — Brian Wayne Peterson’s screenplay lacks the sustained zaniness that might have made Cheerleader a classic. Read more

I’m kind of bored on this Thursday night so I thought that I might as well as write a entry. Nothing much been going on in my daily life here in Minnesota. I’ve been playing around with my scanner and came up with the above pictures. I don’t even know what I’m gonna write about but something will come to mind.

I don’t find those words to desribe who I am or what I’m about the least bit offensive. I’m kind of weird because I like to be called those names. I think if names like homo and faggot are said in fun and jest, then I take no offense to it.

Am I a sex pig? Absolutely. I’m a pig for sex. The definition of a pig is usually someone who overindulge in something. Take food, for instance. If I ate a whole package of cookies (which I have been known to do from time to time) then I can be called a pig for being greedy about it. The same can be true about sex. If I meet with a dude that I’ve just met off the Internet for sex and I get myself off but a couple of hours later I find myself back in the chatrooms looking for another dude for sex and wanting to have an orgasm, then that makes me a pig. I’m a sex pig. Read more

After WW2, in October 1946, the Nuremberg Medical Trial began, lasting until August of 1947. Twenty-tree German physicians and scientists were accused of performing vile and potentially lethal medical experiments on concentration camps inmates and other living human subjects between 1933 and 1945. Mengele was not amongst the accused. Murders, brutalities, cruelties, tortures, atrocities, and other inhuman acts were an everyday occurrence as a result of these experiments:

High-Altitude Experiments to investigate the limits of human endurance and existence at extremely high altitudes. The victims were placed in the low-pressure chamber and thereafter the simulated altitude therein was raised. Many victims died as a result of these experiments and others suffered grave injury, torture, and ill-treatment.

Incendiary Bomb Experiments to test the effect of various pharmaceutical preparations on phosphorous burns. These burns were inflicted on the victims with phosphorous matter taken from incendiary bombs, and caused severe pain, suffering, and serious bodily injury. Read more

To assist people in repenting, the Inquisitors used any torture method they could think of, with the theoretical restriction that they couldn’t break the skin. The Inquisitors came up with numerous gadgets to work within this restriction.

They included: * The Judas Chair: This was a large pyramid-shaped “seat.” Accused heretics were placed on top of it, with the point inserted into their anuses or genitalia, then very, very slowly lowered onto the point with ropes. The effect was to gradually stretch out the opening of choice in an extremely painful manner. *

The Head Vice: Pretty straightforward concept. They put your head into a specially fitted vice, and tighten it until your teeth are crushed, your bones crack and eventually your eyes pop out of their sockets. * Read more