[…]
|
||||||
|
Moving is tough, change can be difficult as you will see in the first post in the new blog…QPDX blog has moved addresses and can now be found at http://blog.oregonlive.com/qpdx/. Please update all your bookmarks and RSS feeds. Thanks for stickin with us. […] You can’t always be in the mood for sweaty club kids, crazy messed up drag queens and high energy art school music beats. Sometimes you just want a laid back sipping drink surrounded by some pretty ladies. So I commend the Fez Ballroom for creating just such a space with their new “Gimlets and Garters” night starting tonight.
So while I’m always ecstatic to have another chill space for girlies I’m sketpical of this one as it comes off sounding pompous and exclusive. In Portland where any of the old-money recent-seven-sisters-school-graduates are looking to get away from that culture (if they weren’t they would have stayed in Boston or moved to New York) I just don’t think this snooty-ness will fly. […] There’s only 2 or 3 oddballs in this bunch of performers I’d be interested in (see Lesbians on Ecstasy, Erase Errata and Alix Olsen) but I’m betting a lot of you will be quite interested in making the trek to the midwest for the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival in August. Performers have been announced so decide if you’re going for the music, the ladies, or to see the drama with Camp Trans play out. All are very good reasons to be in attendance… […]
The night at Holocene starts off with "Portland’s answer to the tribal, experimental punk music of The Slits and The Raincoats," The New Bloods, at 9p, then moves on to Swan Island. Lead singer Brisa Gonzalez manages to commingle thrashing Siren with a throaty lusty Dietrich voice that is as smooth and soothing as it is energizing. The evening ends with a Dj set by JD Samson and Johanna Fateman. From the amount of love Le Tigre generally produces combined with the beats I’ve heard hottie-dyke-mustached JD throw down this set is sure to get hoards of sweaty girls on the dance floor. I have little doubt that it will get you laid. If that ain’t worth 8 bucks, well, I just don’t know what is… […]
Highlights: As more and more ladies of some age appeared on the stage looking absolutely fantastic my girlfriend dubbed them GILFS, a takeoff on the popular MILF acronym, replacing Grandma with Mother. So congratulations Helen Mirren, Meryl Streep and Diane Keaton. You certainly get an Oscar from me. Melissa Ethridge winning for "An Incoventient Truth." Tammy Lynn Michaels, who I can only really ever think of as a mean girl from D.E.B.S. is so sweet and in love with her. She was biting back tears as she kissed her on live TV. I’ve never been a huge Melissa fan (ok, I did go to a concert when I was about 12) but it’s always good to see the liberals and the queers teaming up and WINNING. Yes, we will inherit the earth. Al Gore’s speech cutoff joke wasn’t bad either.
Lowlights: Much of the show in general. Sadly, Ellen. I love her normally but she really was pretty lame, although I actually thought the vacumming was a little bit amusing (and Queerty seemed to like her, though I think they’re the only ones). I can’t imagine though having to host a huge show like that, then go on that creepy creepy Jimmy Kimmel’s show (I didn’t actually stay up late enough to watch this because I loathe him, but I assume it was as painful as his horrible negation of identity as he tried to fight with Rebecca Romijn last week), go to a bunch of parties until 6am, and then wake up to tape your own daily show. I don’t envy her so I’m gonna cut her some slack. The worst local angle was Willamette Week who effectively ruined my enjoyment of the Deaparted as it waited for me in my mailbox the very same day the Willy published. It’s one thing to give spoilers, it’s quite another to splash them in huge letters across a centerfold page with other articles. I hate you. As for the rest of the weekend it was pretty excellent. I actually went out twice in a row! That’s a lot for me as I enter my golden years. But the new club nights at Rotture are pretty good, even if they don’t really get hopping until 12:30. But there’s actually two, The Thin Pink Line and Juicy, so you got something every Friday night. They’re pretty dang queer but mixed with heteros as well so its a pretty interesting scene. Definitely recommended. One thing about this club, as well as my Saturday night Double Down experience, that I’ve noticed is that they’ll always put the mediocre DJ somewhere after the middle of the night so that you say 2 more songs and if they suck we’re gone. Inevitably, the better DJ will come back just as your gathering your coats. At Rotture, I held one, at Double Down I was tired of fighting the smashed in crowds and bailed. Eh, it’s a formula I guess. And one last thing. We all watched L Word, as usual, and still hate everybody for the most part but I gotta say Alice and her new girl are adorable. Alice is still ok in my book and has really always been the only decent character. (Also, the only out actress on teh show until Daniela Sea). Her new lady’s pretty hot too and we all understand why she’s gotta bite that butt. […]
Rotture, the former Loveland, B Complex, what-evah, has traditionally been all ages but I really can’t say what kind of venue it’s become. But my chief concern was whether there would be alcohol and, thankfully, the answer is a resounding (and slurred) yes. In fact, Sparks-mosas are on special for a lowly dollar. And since Sparks is already champagne infused with taurine and malt substance (yes, the American version of the Brit loved vodka and Red Bull) that means you get two! Two Sparks! And as I age I realize the importance of keeping both my alcohol and caffeine levels up when I go out, so this is my perfect drink. Too bad I don’t realize the importance of good taste huh? […]
Many sad movies, nay, most truly depressing tales have a lesson to give, a compelling reason to exist, even hope, or some other redeeming qualities. Madeinusa, the Peruvian submission for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, which shows this Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at PIFF, had none of these. (I am also particularly thankful to report this film has nothing to do with gay culture)
The audience already knows that Madeinusa’s father has been waiting these 14 years to deflower his younger daughter when she decides to preempt him and cavort with the gringo in an alleyway. By this time you are praying that Salvador will rescue her but he refuses. Unlike any other character, however, his decency prevails when he witnesses Madeinusa’s father raping her despite her deflowerment. But while you may have a tiny grain of hope as they prepare to flee don’t hold onto it. Madeinusa has been driven to insanity and betrayal by her dire straights. This all leads to an ending even creepier and more disturbing that you might have initially imagined. I wouldn’t claim any saving grace in the beauty of Madeinusa‘s parting shots but there certainly is elegance to the cinematography. These colorful and bizarre images that ride through the horror of this film are the only split seconds of enjoyment one might be able to take away. But even they are not worth it. The shot of Salvador’s eye through the craggy wooden slats of the cell in which he is initially imprisoned is nicely framed but is also a frequently used, trite shot that pales in comparison to close ups in something like the disturbing-but-highly-worth-it Pan’s Labyrinth. Even the scene of the urinating cow is a beautiful, welcome relief to the ugliness of the movie as a whole. And when farm animal pee is the highlight of your screen experience you just can’t recommend a film. Madeinusa screens Tues Feb 20th, Wed the 21st and Thur the 22nd at Broadway. A complete schedule can be found on the NW Film Center website. […] |
 |
|||||
|
Copyright © 2025 qPDX.com – Queer news, views and events for Portland - All Rights Reserved 33 queries. 0.241 seconds. |
||||||
That said, some of the particulars seem a bit bizarre to me. The Fez’s website calls it a monthly Happy Hour from 6-10p which just seems like an oxymoron to me, being only once a month and staunchly within the dinner/early-going-out hour. It also seems to feel the need to explicitly state an age range. The bottom of the bracket, 21, is apparent, as it is a drinking social hour, but why the 45 year old upper limit? It might be somewhat nice to know that this is geared more at a younger crowd and that you should be going to Vitis Enoteca for the over 37 crowd (ok, I think this restaurant isn’t even in business anymore let alone the over 37 mingling night I seemed to vaguely remember, but that’s exactly my point) but I’ve found that most gay scenes are fairly young anyway, so I wouldn’t think it’d be necessary to specify. Besides, the nights that have become very inclusive of a broad range of ages are actually some of the most successful. I love that genderqueer punks with bike locks in their back pockets mix with lesbians in mom jeans at 
I’ve known about this impending awesomeness for days, but it only occurred to me last night, as we tried to convince an east coast friend to move to Portland because of how much fun she was going miss at this show, that I realized I hadn’t let you know what a fantasically musical and dance righteous night this would be.
I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it gets me on the dance floor in a sort of rock’n’roll trance that cannot be broken. If I had to be stranded on a deserted island and could only take 2 recent albums with me, Swan Island’s debut would be one of them. The other would be The Gossip’s latest, which I could also listen to over and over for the rest of my life. Check out 
Despite it being one of the more boring Oscar years, I followed much of last night’s show (ok, an hour interrupted by the L Word but, whatever, I hear I didn’t miss much). 
Penelope Cruz. The best dress ever. ‘Nuff said.
Sorry this is so last minute, dear readers, but I just found out about it. I know, that means I’m painfully out of the loop. But winter’s ending and I feel myself jumping right back into said loop. 
For those of you with cubicle monkey type jobs, this is the perfect way to while away your desk jockey day. Our favorite MTV owned gay station had got a whole mess of 
The ironically named Madeinusa lives in an isolated village in Peru, dirt poor despite being the daughter of the town’s mayor, a patient pedophile. Her mother has left her and her sister appears to hate her. On the eve of the town’s annual festivities, or "Holy Time," as they call it, a non-indigenous (gringo) geologist from Lima, Salvador, gets stranded in the town, as there is no coming or going from the town during this holiday. What begins with what might seems like a fairly benign Holy Virgin Beauty Contest and Good Friday night prayers in the Catholic Church turns sinister quickly. God is dead and will not arise until Sunday morning. Therefore, this weekend God sees nothing and there is no sin. You can do anything to want and you will not be punished. And while I’m all for debauchery and parties, moral obligations exist in both religious and secular life for reasons and it is disturbing to think that they only matter because God is looking.