It was my friend Joe who turned me on to The Lesbian Mafia podcast some years ago. He sent me an email demanding that I listen to episode 4, "PMS and Worst Psycho Lesbian Stories Revealed," devoted to personal tales of the worst lesbian ex-girlfriends ever.

I loved the podcast and the whole idea behind it, which revolved around the host, Sandi, calling her friends across the country and asking them their opinion on a topic or question. It felt like I was listening in on a lesbian party line. After digesting episode 4, I downloaded earlier Lesbian Mafia episodes to catch up and also subscribed to the feed.

I became familiar with the show's theme song, a spoof of Melissa Etheridge's "I'm the Only One" retitled "I'm a Lesbian." I also grew fond of the juvenile but immensely entertaining prank phone calls Sandi sometimes includes on the show. On one of my favorite prank calls, Sandi called a New York gym and pretended to be a member who was upset at being ogled by a lesbian in the dressing area. The gym's response, redolent with New York attitude, would fit well in a collection of "Best Customer Service Stories."

Sandi's New York Italian background provides a certain flavor to the podcast. Show after show, I am impressed by Sandi's ability to use the phrase "fuck your mother" in almost any sentence and have it sound completely natural. The podcast isn't called The Lesbian Mafia for nothing, after all. When deemed necessary, Sandi does not hesitate to issue threats and make demands.

For example, in the most recent episode (70), "What the Hell is Going On?," Sandi takes on the reluctance of some women to label themselves as lesbians. From there, Sandi goes on to discuss the movie The Kids Are Alright and the difference between lesbians and bisexuals, a conversation she continued with listeners on Twitter.

The Lesbian Mafia has found an audience not only among lesbians but among many non-lesbians as well. The show is funny, insightful, and very uncensored, so if you haven't heard it yet, try giving it a listen.

Based on a few positive words from Dorian over at (postmodernbarney), I decided to pick up several volumes of the Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, a Japanese manga title translated into English. The books revolve around a group of students at a Buddhist university who are having difficulty transferring their recently acquired knowledge into steady employment. The likeable Kuru Karatsu, who possesses an inexplicable ability to communicate with the deceased, is the leader of the group. Other members include a skilled embalmer and a shy young man with a sock puppet more or less permanently attached to his arm. The sock puppet claims to be channeling the voice and thoughts of a space alien.

The group half-stumbles into a line of business tracking down and identifying dead bodies and relocating them to their final resting place. Kuru Karatsu is the key member of the group in this effort, as his task is to communicate with the corpses and find out what events lead up to death and where the body wants to be lain. There's not a lot of money to be made from this work because the group's "clients" are usually deceased, though the group does manage to come into some money sporadically. The downbeat nature of their work and their continuing economic dilemma are offset by the group's camaraderie, the charm of the characters themselves, and cleverly-written dialogue.

I was sometimes thrown off-balance by the mixture of horror content with an overall narrative tone that reminded me of children's fare. My mind frequently flashed back to memories of watching the original Scooby-Doo series while reading about the group's attempts to solve a new paranormal mystery. Although Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service is labeled for adults, it seems like there's plenty of horror-inspired material for children these days, from Harry Potter to the Series of Unfortunate Events books to the Twilight series. Some of the drawings are gory, but are kids really scared by reanimated corpses these days?

I don't have regular contact with children, so I don't have much perspective on how deeply horror has penetrated kids media. I was surprised to discover while watching an episode of FlashForward this year that children's play after 9/11 included acting out the planes' crashes and their aftermath. Considering how horrific events have come to be interwoven in our daily lives over the last decade, it makes sense that even children would become desensitized to their depiction. Horror is simply the new realism.

In a failed attempt to get The Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend interested in gaming, I purchased a copy of James Cameron's Avatar: The Game for XBOX 360.The Girlfriend had really liked the movie Avatar, so I thought perhaps the game could lure her into playing with me.

Before I laid down my cash, I went to look up the reviews of Avatar The Game at Metacritic. I found a mostly negative batch of professional reviews that called the game play mediocre. The customer reviews, however, were mostly positive. Players enjoyed moving through the world of Pandora enough that they didn't mind the repetitive game play. I decided to trust the players' opinions.

Once I started playing the game, my expectations were confirmed: the game play did suffer from bad camera angles but the landscape of Pandora was spectacular. As you progress through the game, different regions of the planet open to you, introducing new types of terrain, landscape features and plants. There's also a feature in the game called the Pandorapedia, an encyclopedia of knowledge concerning various aspects of the planet, including its flora and fauna.

According to an article called "Avatar's New Twist on Plants," I found online at Astrobiology Magazine, James Cameron consulted with a plant physiologist named Judy Holt to develop the scientific rationale behind the plant life on Pandora. Holt also gave scientific names to the plants and provided the descriptions that appear in the game's Pandorapedia.

I found reading the Pandorapedia on my television set difficult, due to the small font size that was used for the interface. Other gamers also mentioned the font size problem in their comments at Metacritic. But the Pandorapedia's content was quite interesting, and in the case of the plant life, the descriptions helped me determine how the plants could be used strategically during combat or in other situations. Several game missions revolve around interaction with plants, requiring the player to identify, sample or gather various specimens.

I enjoyed playing as a Na' vi warrior, ducking through bioluminescent landscapes and bounding around at treetop level within a maze of branches. Although the game rewards you for uncovering new terrain, spending a moment or two gazing quietly at the dramatic vistas found tucked away within each region is rewarding in a different way.

If you come to this blog to read my entries rather than follow my RSS feed, you may notice that In Sequence looks different than it used to. Some time ago the blogging system I was using, Movable Type 3.*, demonstrated a glitchiness that prompted me to upgrade to the latest version. The upgrade path turned out to be much more complicated than I would have liked. My blog is now wearing an off-the-rack Movable Type 5 template style, mostly because it's too much of a pain to change it to something different. Still, I've finally got things working again, and more frequent blogging should commence shortly.

This weekend the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I sat down to watch the first episode of Spartacus: Blood and Sand, the new series from cable station Starz (you can watch episode one online here). We've been anticipating the show's debut for some time now because of Lucy Lawless's involvement. Because the hype machine for this series has been cranked very high as of late, it was a relief to finally have the episode in front of us so we could judge the program for ourselves.

In addition to all the publicity about the show's bloodiness, sex and the nudity, there have been several "false leads" about the series that had us wondering what Spartacus would really be like. To begin with, Spartacus the TV show isn't a remake of Spartacus the 1960 movie, though it took awhile for us to sort that out. Many of the character names are the same, yet the characters themselves differ. The storylines are distinct as well.

More confusion came from parallels to the movie 300, and many TV critics compared and contrasted Spartacus and 300 in early reviews. This concerned me, as I found 300 to be irredeemably racist and have assigned it a top spot on my list of the worst movies I've ever seen.

I do think 300 has some value as a teaching tool; it certainly deserves a place on any curriculuum addressing the issue of fascist aesthetics. Spartacus's resemblance to 300 is more conceptual, as in "it's 300's CGI effects meets Rome's plotting," rather than a real attempt to emulate that loathsome movie.

Spartacus's first episode begins with a clash between the Thracian people and the army of Rome, starting with the Thracians' perspective. Rome demands that the Thracians join with their army to repel approaching enemy forces. The man who we will later know as Spartacus (played by Andy Whitfield) steps forward to bargain with the Roman representative on behalf of Thrace.

The Thracians then enter into an uneasy alliance with the Romans. The Thracian fighters resent the Romans because they are made to do most of the fighting, and we learn that Spartacus pines for his wife, Sura (Erin Cummings), back home. Before long, the Romans break their agreement with the Thracians, leading to a fight that leaves several of the Thracians, including Spartacus, captive and in chains.

Some critics have argued that Spartacus's storyline bears a close resemblance to Gladiator. Perhaps in outline. But after having seen the first episode, I believe the film that has inspired Spartacus is Carrie. When I saw the first battle scene where the Thracian fighters' bodies are streaked with blood and big clots of blood are matting down their hair, my mind immediately went to the image of Sissy Spacek covered in a bucket of blood.

As men hacked off enemy limbs with fierce abandon, a thick splotch of blood splattered and covered a third of the screen. I'm sure the effect the show was going for was something hypermale and ultraviolent but I thought it was a neat visual proof that when you push the representation of masculinity too far you sometimes wind up producing its exact opposite. The menstruality of it all made me howl with laughter.

I'm a fan of video and tabletop strategy games, so I enjoyed seeing the fight scenes I mostly didn't get to see in Rome. I especially liked the detail shown on the armour and weaponry in the fight scenes. I was also happy to see a woman, Sura, fighting capably with a sword in the first episode. I wasn't expecting to see a woman fighting but I hope it continues.

Although Spartacus is being touted for its extensive use of CGI, I thought one of the most effective sequences was a fast-moving series of shots representing the circumstances of Spartacus's captivity. It was an efficient way to move the story along, but the images were powerful and precise in evoking horror.

Andy Whitfield brings intensity to his role as Spartacus, as well as a fine body for those men and women who appreciate such things. I point you in the direction of Brent Hartinger's review on AfterElton.com for a thorough loincloth report and further thoughts on the show from a gay male's perspective.

As a lesbian, my sights are solidly focused on the presence of Lucy Lawless in the cast playing the sexually ravenous Roman Lucretia. I experienced a mixed jumble of feelings when I first heard Lawless would be appearing in the series. I was thrilled to hear Lucy Lawless would be on TV again regularly, but ambivalent about the role. It seems like a cruel irony that this beneficent idol of lesbians everywhere is returning to the screen in a role where she'll be featured in the buff shagging one male gladiator after another. Truthfully, it makes one question God's intent.

Lawless did not appear much in the first episode, so I have yet to resolve my feelings one way or another. But her role sounds like a good one, and hopefully it will wind up being one more reason--along with the great fighting and the Roman setting--for me to continue watching and enjoying Spartacus.

Thanks to MaryD of AUSXIP for allowing me to use an HD screencap from Episode 1 found on her site.

Recently the Cute Little Red Headed Girlfriend and I went to the Autry Center for the first of four programs on the history of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender people in the West. The first program in the Autry's OutWest series was a panel discussion revolving around the movie Brokeback Mountain, called "Whatever Happened to Ennis Del Mar?"

In addition to the panel discussion and reception, attendees were invited to view the shirts featured in the final moments of Brokeback Mountain, currently on temporary exhibit as part of the museum's extensive movie costume collection. You can see the shirts in the snapshot shown at left.

During the panel introduction, members of two groups in the crowded auditorium were asked to stand: representatives of the International Gay Rodeo Association and "the Brokies" (like Trekkies, but for Brokeback Mountain), who had flown in for the occasion. I knew the movie had a fan base, but I hadn't realized until that afternoon how ardent it was.

The panel discussion ranged over a variety of topics, including whether Brokeback Mountain could be considered a gay film or a Western, the movie's representation of male friendship and masculinity, and the film's reception in the U.S. Panelist Kenneth Turan, film critic for the Los Angeles Times and National Public Radio, read his original published review of the film as well as his scathing post-Oscars commentary on Brokeback Mountain losing Best Picture to the movie Crash.

As a Westerner myself, I have a longstanding personal interest in the history of the U.S. West. But I was also drawn the Autry Center's OutWest series because of some documentary footage on gay and lesbian elders that I saw many years ago that has stuck in my mind ever since. In first person interviews, gay and lesbians in their 80s and 90s discussed their lives on film. One of the men discussed his life as a cowboy, describing how he moved west to escape the heterosexual expectations placed on him by family and society.

Although he was seeking a life of solitude, once this man arrived in the West he realized there were others like him who had left home for similar reasons. When I heard this story, there was something startlingly obvious about it that struck me. I think part of what made Brokeback Mountain such a phenomena is that it brings to the surface this hidden yet in some ways plainly evident history of gays and lesbians seeking freedom in the West.

According to a recent story in the Los Angeles Times about the Autry's OutWest series, the next program will focus on a female stagecoach driver who lived her life as a man.

Via Coolhunting, I was happy to discover the drawings of Stephen Floyd, whose work emits a cheerful ambiguity. Through drawn words and images, Floyd simultaneously captures and comments on artifacts of American culture, such as "American Cheese," shown here.

Floyd's work will be exhibited in a solo show called "I Love America and America Loves Me" at the Heist Gallery in New York through December 18. The exhibit appears to concentrate on his drawings, many of which can be seen here. However, I noticed from a visit to Floyd's website that he does work in other media, notably, panties. I recommend to you his work, "world's prettiest fuckin' panties," on view in the cut-outs section of the artist's website.

On first viewing, I was very taken with Floyd's drawing entitled "olive loaf." Floyd has also created a pair of cut-out panties featuring the olive loaf pattern. Most impressively, Floyd has blown up his "olive loaf" drawing to billboard size, and situated his work on the side of a highway, as seen in the photo at right.

Floyd's blog points to a reaction to the billboard in a local paper, which observed, "Perhaps it is guerrilla art."

The Cute-Little-Red-Headed Girlfriend and I have the flu, so we haven't been going out very much lately. Because we've been hunkered down, which we missed the start of the Hello Kitty 35th Anniversary Exhibition happening at Royal/T Artspace. It's a three week long event commemorating Hello Kitty's birthday on--mark the date--November 1. It seems Hello Kitty is 35, which means I must be 102.

I wish I could have gone to the VIP Gala opening event, so that I could causally drop it into conversation. "You were at the L.A. Opera last night? No, I couldn't attend. I was at the Hello Kitty VIP Gala." Although I couldn't attend the opening, I have been able to see much of the artwork online.

Among the pieces I particularly like are the figure pictured above, which shows Hello Kitty wearing a toasted marshmallow costume. I thought it was very appropriate for Halloween. It's actually part of a series of figures depicting Hello Kitty in various marshmallow regalia. You can view more here. I also like the below portrait of the Bigfoot family showing the heartwarming role Hello Kitty plays in their lives.

The first time I encountered Hello Kitty merchandise was in a department store. I remember being confused by it because I didn't know where the character originated from. I thought I must have missed some new cultural manifestation, like a series of Hello Kitty children's books, or a Hello Kitty animated television show--something that gave birth to the character. It took me awhile to understand that Hello Kitty exists purely in reference to her own merchandise.

For my birthday this year, the Cute-Little-Red-Headed-Girlfriend and I went to Disneyland for the day. We considered attending the annual unofficial Gay Day at Disneyland earlier in October, which we had attended in the past. But the park is running a promotion this year where guests receive free admission on their birthday, and this persuaded us to make a mid-October birthday trip instead.

It had been several years since my last trip to Disneyland. Many of my favorite rides were closed for rehab work the last time I went, and several attractions were looking downright shabby. I have not always been a fan of Disney's rehabs, but I'm happy to report that nearly every attraction I visited had been thoughtfully renewed. The clarity of the audio on the rides was outstanding, and the Pirates of the Caribbean had been restored to a state of glory.

The Girlfriend and I had a good time dining in and outside the park. We began with a breakfast of pancakes at the River Belle Terrace in Frontierland. For lunch, we ducked out to the Storytellers Cafe at the Grand Californian Hotel. The wait staff served me an adorable strawberry cupcake, pictured below, and sang to me when they discovered it was my birthday.

While walking along Main Street U.S.A., I was excited to run across the Disney Gallery, which showcases archival Disney artwork alongside newer artwork and merchandise created by contemporary artists. We saw, for example, several original pieces created by Shag to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Haunted Mansion.

We had been on the Haunted Mansion ride only an hour earlier. In anticipation of Halloween, the mansion was decked out with a Nightmare Before Christmas overlay. Although I had seen the overlay before, I left with the impression that the decorations were different and better this year. This impression was later confirmed through a visit to the DoomBuggies forum, where I found Haunted Mansion fans offering similar observations.

My favorite part of the Disney Gallery was a section containing marvelously detailed miniature versions of various attractions, including the old Disneyland entry sign, seen at the top of this post, and the Mad Tea Party ride, pictured just above. Since miniaturism is already built into many Disneyland rides and attractions, the effect was redoubled in some of these sculptures.

Once the Girlfriend and I left the gallery, we found ourselves back on Main Street U.S.A., where a parade was in progress. In keeping with the birthday promotion, the parade was called "Celebrate! A Street Party." An announcer encouraged guests to join in the spirit of this "celebration of you" while costumed performers danced down the street.

Continuing the shameless pandering, the announcer called out to all the guests who had come to Disneyland for their birthday. This had been on ongoing theme inside the park. When I entered Disneyland that morning, I was given a huge button to wear that read "Happy Birthday, Teresa!" All day long, I was greeted with "Happy Birthday" by every ride attendant, food worker, shop keeper and cleaning staffperson I encountered.

In other times, I might have removed the button, embarrassed by all the fuss. I'm usually not the type that likes to receive that kind of attention. In fact, I had had concerns about going to Disneyland prior to our visit. With unemployment and underemployment in California at 23%, I wondered if Disneyland might feel empty because few people could afford to attend. I worried the trip might seem too frivolous and maybe I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself.

But that wasn't the case. The park was wonderful and filled with people. I cherished each "Happy Birthday!" I heard. I thrilled at the rides. I celebrated me. I firmly put aside the fact that the country is now held hostage to corrupt business interests hell-bent on squeezing the lifeblood out of everyone I know and care about. For this one day, I forgot about all the problems looming and enjoyed my goddamn cupcake.

As a follow-up to our enjoyable visit to the Pompeii exhibit (written about here), the Cute-Little-Red-Headed Girlfriend and I decided to take a trip to the Getty Villa.

Representing one half of the Getty Institute--the other half being the Getty Center in Los Angeles--the Getty Villa is a museum dedicated to the "arts and cultures of ancient Greece, Rome, and Etruria." But really, mostly Rome. Greece and Etruria are more like side dishes.

The Getty Villa is itself a loose recreation of a specific first-century Roman structure, the Villa dei Papiri in Herculaneum. We learned this during a short introductory film about the Villa and its benefactor, J. Paul Getty. The original Villa dei Papiri was destroyed in the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius.

The Girlfriend was most interested in seeing the architecture of the Villas, and I the gardens. As it turned out, we were both easily satisfied. As we strolled the Villa, we moved seamlessly from one indoor/outdoor space to another. I was impressed with the variety of textures in the square garden we saw as we walked along the inner peristyle--an open, columned walkway interior to the villa. A picture of it is to the left.

We enjoyed the art in this way, winding into a small room with a cluster of art objects, then out again for the view. The art was arranged thematically, around topics such as the theater, animals, and the legend of Heracles.

We then walked the long exterior peristyle that runs along a large and impressive pool. I was much taken with the expression on a statue of a bather in the pool, as seen in the photo here. I feel like that all the time. We paused to view the Pacific ocean at the end of the peristyle and then finished our tour with a leisurely walk through the Getty Villa's abundant herb garden.

After our visit, the Girlfriend and I felt an overwhelming desire for red wine, cheese and bread--all items eaten by the Romans. Fortunately, we had all these things at home, and it was almost lunch.

In the book Fires of Vesuvius, which I mentioned in my earlier post about the Pompeii exhibit, I read about some of the typical dishes eaten by Pompeiians. Stuffed dormice were considered a delicacy. I have no desire to try this dish, though the author's description of how the dormice were caught, kept, fattened, and prepared was fascinating.

I found the description of ancient eating habits so interesting that when I read in the "Further Reading" section at the back of the book that "Plutarch's Table Talk is a mine of curious information on Greek and Roman dining customs," I immediately stepped to my computer to see if I could find it online. I struck out at Project Gutenberg and likewise at the Perseus Digital Library.

I was finally able to track down the text at the University of Adelaide Library in Australia. They don't offer downloads, however, so I contented myself with reading the work online.

Our trip to the Getty Villa only fueled my interest in Pompeii further, so I went in search of documentaries on the subject. My favorite so far is the BBC's dramatic recreation, Pompeii: The Last Day. I also enjoyed a more science-y program on volcanos, which demonstrated how a pyroclastic surge works. I thought about it a lot during the recent Los Angeles wildfires, when a large scaryass pyrocumulus cloud formed over the city.

If you like, you can see more photos from my trip to the Getty Villa by viewing my flickr page.