Fantasyland!

When I was a kid, watching the grand opening of DisneyLand in Anaheim in living black & white on channel six out of Philly (ABC), I was enthralled to find out that they had various "theme areas" to the park. There was Frontierland (because Davy Crockett was a Disney franchise), Tomorrowland (with it's sleek RocketShip), Adventureland (with it's Pirate Ship) and Fantasyland. When my imagination turned, as it often did, to the subject of my rescue, when the Knight in Shining Armor (my father) rode in to rescue me from the clutches of the Evil Queen (my mother), he and I were then always torn between riding off into Tomorrowland or Fantasyland. Generally, though, we came down in favor of Fantasyland.

I got enabled (a lot) by people who wanted to control me over the years. The adults with whom I lived while I was raising myself, the Navy, some well-meaning but totally controlling friends in college, lovers, bosses, et al. President Shitforbrains got enabled a lot, too, by the finest politicians and institutions that his daddy's money could buy. Eventually I hit a bottom and had to face a lot of realities, real fast. There's nothing like waking up in a jail cell on a Sunday morning with a DUI and no bail to get your attention.

And there's nothing like a quick trip to Iraq to give Assahola Bush a slap or two in the face, regarding the "real life" he's been ignoring for years now.

There's a wonderful piece in The Huffington Post about it today. Go check it out, here.

It's a funny thing about Fantasy. It can be whatever your pea-sized brain needs it to be. Whatever serves your immediate and unbending, unyielding, needs. Fantasy. Great word that. It implies a total denial of current reality.

Speaking of that, one of my favorite moments of all times in the theater comes in "Angels in America" when a doctor confronts Roy Cohn with the truth about his disease. Roy absolutely, vehemently, denies that he is "gay." Oh, he may have had sex with men, but he is not gay. He threatens the doctor with ruination if the doctor even utters the thought that Roy might be "gay." Roy sums up his feelings about it thusly, "whatever it is that I am... it's NOT THAT!"

And that was the end of that. Oh yes, he took it up the butt from a string of handsome young men (proteges all), but he was NOT THAT.

Pacino was (well, wasn't he always?) over the top in his performance of the scene. But he definitely captured the essence of what Cohn was all about. Absolutely controlling and dictating what people even thought about him. Or, at least, he tried to.

That's why, slightly later in the play, as Cohn lay dead of AIDS in the hospital, one of the most breathtaking pieces of sheer theatricality I have ever seen in my life occurs when the ghost of Ethel Rosenberg (played by Meryl Streep in the HBO production) steps out of the shadows to say Kaddish over his corpse. It brought tears to my eyes and spoke volumes regarding the subject of forgiveness.

Anyway, Dubya is a lot like Cohn. Controlling. Pigheaded. Absolutely Right and everyone else is absolutely wrong. A dictator. Cruel. Self-centered. Egotistical. Completely unsolicitous of others unless he's gonna git sumthin' outta it.

There are two types of people in his world. Himself and all the little people.

He should only be so lucky as Roy Cohn when the time comes for someone to say Kaddish over him.

And speaking of denial, see also the latest on Larry Craig. He's still hiding his queerness behind his children. As though he were the first gay guy to get married and sire kids as beards.

Bush's Brain - Potter's Finale

Rove is quitting. His legacy consists primarily of a demoralized Republican Party, the Democrats in charge of Congress, a war-weary nation with no end in sight and a drunken Frat-Boy at the helm of the ship of state.

Way to go, Karl-Baby! A grateful nation tips it's hat (and middle-fingers) to you!

Remember about a year ago a tv commercial for Disney family vacations that featured a wholesome American family (mom, dad, two kids) trying to settle down into bed for the night but the kids can't sleep because they're going on a Disney Vacation and, to quote the boy, "WE'RE TOO EXCITED!!!"

Well, I woke up around 3:30 this morning, unable to sleep because (dammit) I'm too excited.

I've been taking my time with the last Harry Potter novel. I didn't want to rush through it. I wanted to savor it.

And I did, a chapter a day. But by bedtime last night I was staring at the last 275 pages and things were starting to really heat up (after stagnating for some time while Harry, Hermione and Ron wandered aimlessly in the forest).

No spoilers here, but things have started to get very interesting and my innate nosiness is starting to win out over my self-control.

Ergo sum, my eyes flew open at 3:30 a.m. Ostensibly I had to relieve myself, but I know better than that. I can almost always sleep the whole night through without the need to get up and take a mid-sleep whizz. Even my urologist is in awe of my prostate.

So I read for an hour or so and knocked off another 100 pages.

It's a little after 1:00 p.m. eastern now and I'm practically dozing off at my desk. Yet all I can think of is "can I finish it tonight?"

I can hardly wait to find out if Lord VoldeRove gets magically whacked in the end!