Queer

Queer is the most devastating gay love story I’ve seen since All of Us Strangers.

Based on the book by William S. Burroughs, Daniel Craig, in a role that’s diametrically opposed to his long run as James Bond, plays a gay, junkie writer (much like Burroughs himself) named William Lee, who seems to spend all his time in Mexico City chasing hustlers, drinking and shooting heroin. Then me meets a young man named Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), whose sexual orientation isn’t immediately apparent, and falls in love with him. The two then go on a journey to South America in search of ayahuasca, a drug that is supposed to aid in telepathy but seems to induce hallucinations. I don’t want to spoil the ending, but I’ll just say that you may be as heartbroken as you were at the end of Strangers.

I think director Luca Gaudagnino (Call Me by Your Name, A Bigger Splash) is the most interesting director working today. What I really love about this movie is the way it captures gay desire, with its camera lingering over Starkey’s body. It doesn’t shy away from gay sex (in fact, it’s quite erotic). Craig is still in great shape (despite the fact that he’s playing a junkie) and Starkey is also quite beautiful to look at.

Also featured in the film are Drew Droege (off-Broadway’s Bright Colors and Bold Patterns), as a stereotypical, effeminate lounge lizard and an unrecognizable Jason Schwartzman, who put on a ton of weight for his role as another bar fly.

While the movie is set in the 1950s, Guadagnino once again makes great use of music, including Nirvana and New Order.

There’s a hallucinogenic quality to Queer, as befits a movie about drug use, and you may find yourself saying “What the fuck just happened?” at times, but the pain of lost love will remain in the pit of your stomach long after you’ve left the theater.

A Letter to the New York Times

To the Editor:

Charles Michael Sitero’s letter ("Healing the Political Divide and Despair,” 10/11/24) is full of precisely the “presumption of moral high ground, smug and arrogant and judgmental sense of elitist entitlement, malicious hate, envy, name calling and abusive persecution through the use of the media” of which he accuses liberals.

When Florida is underwater because Trump has trashed climate protections, put a climate change denier in charge of the E.P.A. and given billions to the fossil fuel industry, I don’t want to hear a fucking word.

Paul Hallasy

New York, NY

Why I Left Twitter

It took me a week after the election, but I finally decided to delete my Twitter account. I’d been having second thoughts about Twitter since Elon Musk took over and, since the election, they’ve only gotten louder.

Twitter was always the least popular of my social media accounts and it’s only gotten more so. In just the last week, I’ve lost at least 16 followers and most of the followers I’d gained since Musk took over were, I’m assuming, fake accounts. (Women looking for sex from a gay man? Hello?)

Add to that the fact that it seems like Musk has been suppressing anti-Trump accounts and amplifying pro-Trump accounts.

In fact, now that Musk has succeeded in getting Trump elected, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sold Twitter (assuming anyone would be interested in buying it).

Then there’s my natural antipathy towards social media in general.

As a late boomer, I’ve always thought all social media was kind of bullshit. I distinctly remember my reaction when I first considered joining Facebook (which I only joined in order to promote my stand-up comedy shows). My reaction was, “You mean to tell me that adults are doing this?!!!” It all seemed so juvenile. (And I’m not sure how helpful it’s been in terms of putting asses in seats. It seems like personal connection and word of mouth is much more effective.)

But I eventually gave in.

Then, I was actually required to join Instagram by my real estate job and it was equally ineffective in helping my real estate career.

Another truism to consider: No one’s opinion has ever been changed by social media. Social media is designed to reinforce the opinions you already have. And it mainly thrives on just two emotions: fear and anger.

So all those New York Times articles I posted about how dangerous Trump was were for nothing. People don’t read newspapers anymore and, even if they did, they’d have to already be a Times subscriber to get past the paywall.

And I’m reluctant to join another social media platform like Threads because what would be the point? I feel like I’m just pissing in the wind.

But maybe it might be worth it as an experiment, just to see if one platform is any more useful than another.

At least I won’t be subjected to all the offensive ads on Twitter (most of which I blocked) and the even more offensive people (like Musk and Trump, both of whom I also blocked).

I didn’t think anyone could be more of a pathological narcissist than Trump, but in Elon Musk, who bought Twitter solely for his own self-aggrandizement, Trump may have finally met his match.

Protect Our Futures March

It was good to express my shock/outrage/sadness over the election results in the company of thousands of like-minded people. The high points for me were passing Trump International Hotel & Tower (where I shouted, “Fuck Trump!”) and News Corporation headquarters (where I shouted, “Fuck Fox News!").

I had an eerie, 1984/Handmaid’s Tale-like feeling as I saw the Fox News ticker reporting the damage Trump/Republicans have already inflicted or are planning to inflict.

And he hasn’t even taken office yet.

How to Survive the Coming Trumpocalypse

The next four years are going to be all about self-preservation. Here are some steps I’m taking (or have already taken) in order to preserve my sanity and suggest you take in order to preserve yours:

1. Contact your elected representatives. The first thing I did Wednesday morning was call my Congressman, Daniel Goldman, to express my shock/outrage/sadness over the election results and ask if there was anything I could do to help. Unfortunately, the young woman who answered the phone wasn’t very helpful (I don’t think they’re allowed to give political advice), but at least I made my feelings known. (Dan, if you're reading this, call me.)
2. Organize. I contacted the Women’s March. If you recall, they held the largest such gathering in history after Trump’s last election (I can’t believe I’m saying that), organizing marches across the country and around the world. I attended their “Election Reflection & Healing Justice Gathering” Zoom meeting last night. It was kind of hokey (although several attendees in the chat were eating it up), kind of like a guided meditation, but it was good to be in the presence of like-minded people. I was hoping for information on a New York City march (there is one in Washington, D.C. this Saturday, November 9), but none was forthcoming. There’s a “Mass Actions Organizing Call” Zoom meeting tomorrow (November 8) which I’m planning to attend, so I’ll see if that’s any better.
3. Apply for/renew your passport. I renewed mine this morning. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to move to another country (and I love New York City—I sometimes refer to it as the “Independent Republic of New York City”), but it’s good to have just in case of an emergency. This is all about empowerment.
4. Spend time with friends and/or family (assuming you’re still talking to them). I spent today, an unseasonably mild day, in the park with a friend of mine and it was a healing experience. (Again, like-minded people.) Nature/the outdoors can also be healing.
5. Limit your TV news diet. I’m severely limiting mine because I can’t stand to look at or listen to Donald Trump. If necessary, I’ll read the New York Times, but I’m limiting my exposure to PBS News Hour (which is great and unbiased, but may still expose me to Trump) and, more importantly, MSNBC (which is unabashedly partisan and only fuels my anger), both of which I used to watch avidly.
6. Limit or cut off your exposure to Trump voters. I know this one’s a little controversial (cf. Bill Maher and his "Kumbaya" sensibility). I’ve spent the last year sounding the alarm about Trump and trying to reason with the few Trump voters in my circle and look what happened: Most Americans voted for him anyway. If watching the January 6th insurrection and seeing/listening to all the things he said and did on the campaign trail (not to mention his four years in office) weren’t enough to convince you that he was unfit to be president (see my related post, “Hate Wins (Again)"), I’m not wasting my breath anymore. I’m done. You are hereby cut off. (If I still have friends who voted for Trump and they’re reading this, they’ll probably be too embarrassed to admit it.)
7. Self-care: Eat right. Exercise. Don’t smoke. Don’t drink. Don’t do drugs. Get plenty of rest. Doing these six things is good advice any time, but especially now.
8. Create. Write, act, sing, paint, etc. Artists are always at the forefront of social change (and usually the first to be punished under a dictatorship), so keep doing what you’re doing. (Easier said than done, considering my parenthetical statement.) I, for one, will not be silenced.
9. Limit your exposure to social media, especially Twitter. I’m debating whether or not to delete my Twitter account. Fortunately, I’m spared most of the right-wing hate and misinformation because of the “For You” feature, and some of it can be useful (I quoted a thread in my aforementioned post). But now that Trump has actually been elected, what’s the point? And I’m a little uncomfortable about contributing to anything that could benefit Elon Musk. Also: If I see a Trump supporter on any of my social media, I will block, unfollow or unfriend them.

If anyone has any other ideas, I’d be happy to hear them. And if I should mysteriously “disappear,” you know who to blame.

Hate Wins (Again)

I’m beyond angry. I’m having an existential crisis. I literally don’t know how to move forward.

I barely slept last night.

I remember four years ago, after President Biden won the last presidential election, people were dancing in the streets of New York City. Last night it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

This is about more than mere policy differences. While we can disagree on policy, what we are about to witness will be catastrophic. Trump already told us what he would do in his Project 2025 blueprint and he’s been telling us throughout the campaign. Deport millions of illegal immigrants (and perhaps some legal immigrants who merely “look” illegal). Destroy the climate. Ban abortion. Leave NATO. Kill Obamacare.

We’re already seeing the damage and he hasn’t even taken office yet. Two hurricanes in Florida in one week. Texas women dying because they can’t receive necessary healthcare.

Sure Trump voters will tell you they were motivated by “the economy” (despite the fact that the American economy is currently the envy of the world, according to no less than The Economist) and immigration (whose bipartisan bill Trump torpedoed), but I believe there was also an undercurrent of racism, misogyny and transphobia. Not to mention a cohort of young men who voted for Trump because they think he’s a “tough guy” and are resentful that women now outnumber men in colleges and universities and are making more money.

I can’t get past the fact that we all watched Trump try to overturn a free and fair election. That in itself should be disqualifying. Everything else is beside the point. And yet a majority of Americans still voted for him.

In spite of the hateful rhetoric we saw and heard at his Madison Square Garden rally and have seen and heard throughout his campaign, they still voted for him.

I blame Mitch McConnell, whose craven need to maintain a Republican majority in the Senate led him to not vote to impeach Trump when he had the chance, even after explicitly blaming Trump for January 6 on the floor of the Senate.

I blame Merrick Garland for dragging his feet in prosecuting Trump, because Democrats were worried about appearing “partisan,” whereas Trump and his fellow Republicans had no such qualms. Trump and his Republican sycophants stepped on every norm that had previously existed and, in some cases, actually broke the law.

There was a brief moment after January 6 when it seemed like saner heads might prevail, starting with McConnell’s speech on the Senate floor. But it ended when Kevin McCarthy, after similarly blaming Trump for January 6, went down to Mar a Lago to kiss Trump’s ring.

I’m done trying to reason with the Trump cultists. These people are immune to facts.

There was a thread by David Roberts on Twitter that I felt expressed my feelings perfectly (I’ve been debating whether or not I should stay on Twitter, which has become a cesspool of right-wing hate and misinformation since Elon Musk took over, but that’s a whole other conversation), so I’m reprinting it here in its entirety:

I'm glad I don't have to write an endorsement piece, because I really wouldn't know how to go about it. Ever since 2015, when Trump descended the escalator, I have had the same feeling, which I've never quite seen articulated, so I will briefly try:

It's basically this: Trump is so obviously, manifestly repugnant -- his words, his gestures, his behavior, his history -- that it strikes me like a tsunami. It's a kind of total, perfect, seamless repugnance that I've never witnessed before in my life. Which means ...

... pointing out some particular piece of the repugnance & arguing against it feels ... surreal, I guess. "He has regularly sexually assaulted women, almost certainly raped a few, and ... I think that's bad."

... if you think rape is bad, you will already oppose Trump. If you don't, what could I possibly say to reach you? I don't understand your moral universe, your basic precepts. We are different in a way so fundamental that I literally don't know how to speak to you.

It's the same with all of it. I could point to some obvious bit of repugnance -- "I think it's bad to cheat every small business you interact with." -- but ... it's obvious. You've surely seen it yourself. And it doesn't matter to you. So how is me pointing it out going to help?

You see what I'm getting at? I feel like there's nothing I can say about Trump that isn't obvious, that isn't well-understood public knowledge. If you still support him at this point, you clearly don't *care* about all that stuff. And if you don't care about all that stuff ...

... then ... what do you care about? How does your brain operate? What does morality mean to you? What language could possibly reach you? What could cause you to care? I genuinely don't know. It's like when you're trying to speak w/ someone who doesn't speak your language ...

... and you respond by just repeating yourself, louder. "HE'S A CAREER CRIMINAL WITH 34 FELONY CONVICTIONS." It's pointless. They *heard* you. They just don't understand, don't care. You're assuming they share the premise "criminal rapists are bad," but they don't.

And so, if you're that far apart -- if you do not share basic, fundamental moral precepts, if you live in different moral universes -- how can you communicate? Literally, what do you say?

So I could write the 5000th piece once again listing Trump's sins -- "He's explicitly said he loves dictators & wants to be one!" -- but they've all been listed a million times. His supporters don't care. And I wouldn't know what to write to make someone care or be decent.

That's where I've been ever since 2015: feeling like language is pointless. Like the reality I inhabit is so far from the reality Trump supporters inhabit that discourse between us is impossible, or at least futile. The divide is unbridgeable.

This is a genuinely depressing & unsettling place to be for someone whose whole *life* is words, who was raised & trained to believe that language can, with care & attention, bridge any gap, excavate & find commonalities among any people, no matter how far apart.

Anyway. I just wanted to get that feeling down. Maybe some of you feel it too. In the meantime, my grand manifesto against electing Trump amounts to this: [points at Trump]