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#GayNrd Daily

Chris Rock, Harry Styles,Tannor Reed, Peter Staley, Kiley J. Winn, David Shannon, Wil Wheaton, Samuel L. Jackson, Diane Anderson-Minshall, David Shannon, and More: #GAYNRD DAILY

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IT’S STILL TUESDAY? #GayNrd’s round up of art, news, comics, and social media from the far flung corners of the interwebz for Tuesday March 30, 2021.

via GIPHY

ETERNAL SPRING Cherry Blossoms in Kyoto, Japan blossomed earlier than they have in the 1200 years records have been kept. Scientists believe it’s another sure sign of climate change. The Washington Post: The March 26, 2021, peak bloom date surpassed the previous record holder of March 27, 1409, nearly a century before Christopher Columbus sailed to America. The long-term record dates back to A.D. 812, about 12 years after Charlemagne was crowned Holy Roman Emperor.

HARRY STYLES talks the destinations he’s most looking forward to performing .

@harrysoffical#harrystyles #interview #hshq #fyp♬ sonido original – Harry Styles

TRUE CRIME The CEO and Editorial Director of Pride Media, award winning journalist Diane Anderson-Minshall posted on Instagram Tuesday: Historically, law enforcement has left queer and transgender people both over-policed and under-protected. In my interviews with the authors of three books about famous murder cases, The Advocate explores how anti-LGBTQ+ bias hampers police, the judicial system, and media investigations.

She spoke to Peter Lance, author of Homicide at Rough Point, about the 1966 murder of designer Eduardo Tirella by Doris Duke, then the richest woman in America; Justin Ling, author of Missing From the Village, about Kirushnakumar Kanagaratnam’s death at the hands of Toronto serial killer Bruce McArthur in 2015; and Allan Levine, author of Details Are Unprintable: Wayne Lonergan and the Sensational Café Society Murder, about the early-1940s murder conviction of Wayne Lonergan, a closeted gay or bi man, for killing his wife.

WARM WEATHER made an appearance on the east coast leading to a suspiciously scarcity of sartorial choices people seemed to be making. It’s officially flip flop season. ????????‍♂️????????‍♂️

Ketti Mellencamp tweeted this picture from New York’s Central Park Tuesday: I”t’s not even 60 degrees but okay.”

TWEET OF THE DAY Super-cutie Tannor Reed reacting to Arkansas’ new law banning healthcare for trans youth, saying: Transphobic people really need to google what hormone blockers do before they start spewing a bunch of bullshit.”

So say we all, Tannor! 

THE FUTURE FAMILY  of Wanda Maximoff aka The Scarlet Witch and the Vision with son Billy (the Young Avenger known as Wiccan) and his husband and their son-in-law Theodore “Teddy” Altman now Dorrek Supreme of the Kree/Skull Empire. Wrote artist Mason D. Lewis: “Family shot! Heres my take on @wandavision‘s Scarlet Witch in her FIERCE new outfit featuring Vision slowly being ripped apart – and peep Stephen as Wiccan and me as his boyf, Hulkling! C’mon gay comic book characters, we stan representation!”

 

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MODEL/MAKE-UP ARTIST/STYLIST Kiley J. Winn brought his A game personality to this photo shoot on a cold Sunny day in February where he collaborated with four artists for this stunning shoot he posted on Instagram.

Photo and editing by Tanner Townsend. Mua: Brendan Brogan Assistant: Pedro Sousa Model/costume: Kiley J.Winn#photoshoot#dark#fur#blackmalefashion#high#intense#awesome#skull#perfection#bowtie#couture#culture#love#harness#kileyjwinn#like#gq#model#citizen#professional#2021

ART APPRECIATION The queen of soul by the king of pop. Obsessed with #AndyWarhol ‘s painting of #ArethaFranklin ???? writes artmattersmore. They are contemporary art collector/lover. Who shows bits of their collection and lots of what they love. And who is building a few select collections who always get idea first looks ????

 

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NEVER SILENT HIV-Activist and founding member of Act-Up Peter Staley’s classic memoir was given a cover and design he’s none-to-thrilled with. Staley wrote: “I should have read the small print. Having gotten away my entire life without reading contracts before signing them, especially when they are “pro forma,” I signed my first and definitely last contract with a publisher. Only recently did I find out that an author has no final say, contractually, in their own book’s title, subtitle, and cover design. Obviously, the publisher wants the author to be happy with the title & cover, but if they want to steamroll you over parts of it, they can. And they did. As I mentioned at the reading of ACT UP narratives that Sarah Schulman organized in Brooklyn last year, just before the lockdown, I wrote a “classic memoir—it’s about me, me, me—and it’s definitely not a history or analysis of ACT UP.” The publisher put ACT UP at the top of the subtitle. I went ballistic. The head of the publishing house probably hates me by now, and my editor has aged considerably during the fight. In the end, I lost. All that said, I’m happy with how it looks. But, sheesh, I do not understand this industry.”

HAPPY HOUR at L’Opossum, where owner and chef David Shannon writes, “Save water, drink cocktails.????”  Shannon’s restaurant/experience is a destination restaurant and best restaurant in the South. In my review/story of the Richmond, Virginia dining delight in The Advocate in 2019:  “The L’Opossum menu is a joyous experience in and of itself, written by Shannon and featuring drink specials with such delightful names —“Dark and Stormy Daniels” and “Safeword” are two of my favorite — that you’ll want to try them all.”

 

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“You’re invited to (and may even feel compelled to) wander around the restaurant during dinner — looking at the individual pieces that are the mise en scène of L’Opossum. Initially, Shannon wasn’t thinking about making the space playfully queer. He says, “I just wanted to run a place that felt right to me. There is definitely a gay vibe with the way I write the menu and the decor and art. A few years ago, a woman I have known since kindergarten came up to me and said, ‘I can’t believe you are doing this here in Richmond, Virginia.’ I was like, ‘I’m just running a restaurant.’ She said, ‘No. It’s more than that in this town. You are so out there and unapologetic about who you are and being gay.’” Given that perception, the chef acknowledges, “It’s amazing how well it’s been received.”

The restaurant achieves in full and lives up Shannon’s belief that for anyone to reach their full creative potential, they have to be able to live an open and authentic life. “We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it,” he says.

It’s a slogan L’Opossum and XXX FoodPorn XXX practically scream as loud as street activists used to.

 

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WARDROBE MALFUNCTIONS happen all to often to Iwachan’s baby brother. If you know the how of Yaoi then you know what happens next.

HOUSEBOY DEMONSTRATION PupSuirt’s got the definitive guide.

BARING IT ALL Did we mention the heat? Superstar trainer Lafayette Robinson wrote on Instagram: “Todays weather makes me wanna walk around bare, hope its great wherever you are fit fam ????????????????‼️”

TIKTOK Check out BrandonTheBlackWeirdo’s video! #TikTok

 

HE’S NOT WRONG Lil Nas X looking forward to the inevitable South Park episode that will attempt to satire the absurdity around his release of his new single and video for “Montero: Call Me By Your Name.”

MEME OF THE DAY hilariously features 1997 scifi cult classic The Fifth Element’s Ruby Rhod (played by Chris Tucker) as the trailblazer for Lil Nas X today.

URBAN HEROES Chicago based artist Rachel Nurmi wrote of her fabulous art: “I’m working on a three part series entitled Urban Heroes. Many kids dream of #heroes so I wanted to explore with what it would look like if regular #kids were able to be part time supers. It was heavily inspired by Spidermans original home made costume and casual cosplay. Limited Edition Prints are available. Bodega, Urban Heroes Series, January 2021.”

COSPLAY OF THE DAY Nitsvetov as Nightwing on TikTok.

@nitsvetovВсе же любят парней в трико?♬ оригинальный звук – мегадолбоеб SSS ранга

TRAILER OF THE DAY Spiral: From the Book of Saw in theaters May 14, 2021.

The horror/thriller  stars Chris Rock, Max Minghella, Marisol Nichols, and Samuel L. Jackson and the return of a Jigsaw type killer named Spiral. Watch the trailer below.

THE READY ROOM host and Star Trek: The Next Generation alum Wil Wheaton wrote on IG: “Got cleaned up for a thing. Felt fancy. Might delete later.”

 

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On Monday Wheaton posted on Facebook: Does anyone have a PDF copy of my book Dancing Barefoot they can share with me? I’m trying to collect a story from it, and for some reason the original files didn’t get moved to this computer. I could go into the archives, but pirating my own work is so much more fun.

EDIT: Never mind. I found it. Turns out I am garbage at naming files.

For anyone who wants to read it, here’s the story I was looking for: I first met William Shatner on the set of Star Trek V back in 1988. I was 16, and had been working on TNG for two years at the time. We were enjoying some success with our show, and I was very proud of the work I was doing. When I found out that the original series cast would be working next door to us for two months, I was beside myself.
Gene Roddenberry was still heavily involved with the production of TNG back then, and he and I were good friends. When I’d pass by his door, it was not uncommon for him to throw an executive out of his office and ask me in for a visit. He knew that I was a fan of the original series, and he knew that I was more than a little intimidated by these actors. He offered several times to make introductions, but I always declined. If I was going to meet these legends of Science Fiction, I was going to do it on my own.
For weeks, I tried to get up the nerve to introduce myself. When I would walk from the stage to my dressing room or school room, I would do it slowly, looking at their stage door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mister Spock, or Doctor McCoy, or even the legendary Captain Kirk. The few times they did appear, though, I could never find the courage to approach them.
This went on for about six weeks.
Word got around our set that I was too chicken to introduce myself to the original series actors. It became something of a joke, and the crew began to give me some good-natured ribbing about my reluctance. Next Generation was immensely popular at the time, and I was still riding high on the success of Stand by Me. They couldn’t understand why I was so intimidated by these actors – my face was splashed across the cover of every teen magazine in print.
Why was I so intimidated? I was a 16 year-old geek, with a chance to meet The Big Three from Star Trek. You do the math.
One afternoon, while I was sitting outside stage 9 talking with Mandy, my costumer, they opened the huge stage door across the way, and I could see right into the set of Star Trek V. It was a large area, like a cargo bay, filled with extras and equipment. It was quite different from our set, but it was unmistakably The Enterprise. Standing in the middle of it all was William Shatner. He held a script open like it was a holy text. The way he gestured with his hands, I could tell that he was setting up a shot and discussing it with the camera crew.
I waited for the familiar rush of nerves, but it didn’t come. Seeing him as a director and not as Captain Kirk put me at ease. I knew that this was my moment. If I didn’t walk over and introduce myself right then, I would never do it.
I was wearing the grey “acting ensign” space suit, unzipped with the sleeves tied around my waist. That costume was quite uncomfortable, so I’d take the top half off whenever I got the chance. Because it was a jumpsuit, I would tie the sleeves around my waist, and wear a lightweight fleece jacket, zipped up to cover the embarrassing muscle suit the producers had me wear.
We all wore those muscle suits, but I think I was the most traumatized by it. I’ve always been a very slight person without much muscle mass (even now, at age 30, I weigh 145 pounds at 5’10”) and having to wear all that thick padding did little to improve my fragile teenage self esteem.
I turned to Mandy, and took off my fleece. I asked her to zip up my spacesuit, and fasten the collar. If I was going to meet William Shatner, I was going to do it looking as “Starfleet regulation” as I could. She made sure my costume looked good enough for camera, and wished me good luck. I got a high-five from one of the teamsters as I confidently walked across the street and into the cargo bay of the Enterprise 1701-A. It took about eight steps for my confidence to evaporate. Surrounded by extras in Starfleet dress, standing next to a shuttlecraft, William Shatner, director, was immediately transformed into Captain Kirk, intergalactic legend. I was transformed from Wil Wheaton, fellow actor and film industry professional, into Wil Wheaton, drooling fanboy and Star Trek geek.
I looked around. I guess I blended in well, because nobody had noticed me. I turned to make my escape, and bumped into a still photographer who had worked on TNG the first season.
“Hey, Wil. What are you doing here?” he asked.
I swallowed, and looked at the stage door.
“Oh, uh, I just came over to, um, look around, and, uh, stuff.” I said. I shuffled my feet, and began to move back toward the familiarity of my own spaceship.
“Well, as long as you’re here, you should meet Mr. Shatner!”
Mr. Shatner? Who was Mr. Shatner? There’s no Mr. Shatner here, just Captain Kirk and several Starfleet officers.
He turned toward Captain Kirk, and called out, “Hey! Bill! Come here a second!”
My heart began to beat rapidly, as he turned toward us. Captain Kirk looked right at me. I froze. He gave his book to someone, and began to walk in our direction. I involuntarily straightened my back, and sucked in my stomach. My muscle suit felt tight and awkward around my arms and chest.
Within seconds he was standing next to us. He was about my height, and looked heavier than he did on television.
Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise said, “What can I do for you?”
“Well, Bill, this is Wil Wheaton. He’s part of the cast of The Next Generation, and he’d like to meet you.”
Captain Kirk looked at me for a long time.
“So, you’re the kid on that show?” He seemed annoyed.
My throat and mouth were dry, and my palms were sweating. My heart pounded in my ears, as I answered. “Uh, yes, sir. My name’s Wil.”
He continued to look at me. I carefully wiped my hand on the hip of my spacesuit, and extended it. “Nice to meet you,” I said.
He didn’t take my hand.
“What is that, your spacesuit?” He said, and made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cough.
“Oh? This? Yeah. It’s not as cool as yours, but it’s what they tell me to wear.” I put my hand down. I really wanted to leave. I felt a little light headed. Why wouldn’t Captain Kirk shake my hand? And why didn’t he like my spacesuit? Could he see the fake muscles? Maybe he didn’t like the color. I became hyper-aware of the spandex, clinging to my body, and longed for the comfort of my fleece jacket.
“Well?” He asked. Oh no. He’d asked me a question, and I’d missed it.
“Excuse me?” I replied.
“I said, what do you do over there?” he asked. There was a challenge in his voice.
“Oh, uh, well, I’m an acting ensign, and I sometimes pilot the ship.” Maybe he’d be impressed that I’d already logged several hours at the helm of the Enterprise D, all before the age of 16. “Well, I’d never let a kid come onto my bridge.” He said, and walked away.
Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of the Starship Enterprise 1701, and Enterprise 1701-A, the only person in Starfleet to ever defeat the Kobiyashi Maru, the man behind the Corbomite Maneuver, the man who took the Enterprise to the Genesis planet to return Spock’s katra, the man who I had admired since I was eight years old, was immediately transformed into WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER.
I bit my lip, and turned to say good-bye to the still photographer who had made the introduction, but he had vanished as well.
I walked back to my own stage with my head down, avoiding eye contact the entire way. When I got to the entrance, I found Mandy, and asked her to unzip my costume, so I could put my fleece back on.
As she unzipped the back, she said, “did you get to meet William Shatner?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to let on that I was upset.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, as she handed me my fleece jacket. There was concern in her eyes
.
“Well . . .” I hesitated. Saying it out loud would make it real. “He was a dick to me.”
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “What?! Why? What happened?!”
I fought back tears, and recounted our introduction. “What an asshole!” She said, “Oh, Wil, I am so sorry!”
I nodded my head, and she gave me a hug. I drew a deep breath, shrugged my shoulders, and walked back to my trailer, where I sat down and cried. I had spent weeks getting up the courage to meet this man, and in less than five minutes he had insulted and humiliated me. He had reduced me from peer to peon. I had worn my stupid costume, thinking that it would matter to him, and he’d made fun of it.
15 minutes later, an assistant director knocked on my door, and told me that they were ready for me on the set. I stood up, wiped my face off, and told him that I’d need to make a quick stop at the makeup trailer on my way. He radioed this information to the 1st AD, and told me to hurry.
I walked to the makeup trailer, taking great pains to look at the ground, the walls, the sky . . . anything that would keep my head turned away from the Star Trek V stage.
I sat in the chair, and my makeup artist, Jana, began to touch me up. “I heard about what Shatner did to you.” she said. “Fuck him. He’s a jerk, and has been for years. He’s probably just jealous that you’re younger, better looking, and more famous than he is.”
I sighed. I didn’t want him to be a jerk, and I didn’t think that he was jealous of anything. I was certain that I’d done something wrong. “I guess so.” I said, as noncommittally as I could.
She put down her makeup sponge, and turned the chair away from the mirror, so I was facing her. She looked me in the eye, and said, “Don’t let him upset you, Wil. He’s not worth it.”
“Okay,” I lied. I knew I was going to be upset about this for a long time.
“Okay,” she said, and dusted my nose with translucent powder.
I walked into the stage, and took my seat on the bridge of the Enterprise D, next to Brent Spiner. “I heard about Shatner,” Brent said.
Jesus, was this on the news or something? “Yeah,” I said.
“You know he wears a toupee, right?”
I giggled. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yep. He’s balder than old baldy up there.” He tossed a gold thumb over his shoulder at Patrick.
I giggled some more, as the stored up adrenaline coursed through my veins. “Boy, that’s pretty bald.”
“Yep.” Brent put his hands up on his console.
The first AD said, “This will be picture,” and we all focused.
“Picture is up! Very quiet please!” He shouted, “Roll camera!”
“25 apple, take 1,” the sound mixer said, “Sound has speed!”
The camera assistant clapped the slate.
“Action!” said the director.
Patrick entered from his Ready Room, and walked to the captain’s chair.
“Mister Crusher, take us out of orbit, and lay in a course for the Ramatis system, warp 6” He said.
“Aye sir,” my fingers danced over the CONN. “Course laid in, sir.”
“Make it so, Mister Crusher.”
The camera creaked back on the dolly track, as the Enterprise D went to warp speed.
“Cut! Great! New deal!” the director said.
“Wrong set! We are moving to the Observation lounge for scene 55!” said the 1st AD, “The actors can relax for about 10 minutes.”
On my way back to my trailer, the DGA trainee stopped me. “Gene Roddenberry would like you to call his office, Wil.”
“Okay.”
I changed direction, and walked to the stage phone. My heart began to beat hard in my chest. Had Gene heard too? WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER had known Gene for over 20 years . . . if Gene knew that I’d upset him, maybe Gene would be upset at me, too!
I passed the craft service table, setup behind the starfield that hung next to the Ten-Forward set. Michael Dorn and Jonathan Frakes were pouring cups of coffee.
“To hell with him, W,” Jonathan said. I love it when he calls me “W.”
“To hell with who?” Michael asked.
“Shatner shit all over Teen Idol,” Jonathan told him.
Beneath his latex Klingon forehead, Michael rolled his eyes. “You want me to kick his ass, Wil?”
“No, that’s okay. Thanks, though.” I said.
“I’ve got your back, man,” Michael said.
I dialed Gene’s office, and told his secretary that I was returning Gene’s call.
“He’s expecting your call. Just a second, Wil.” There were two clicks, and Gene’s soft, gentle, friendly voice was in my ear.
“Hi Wil, how are you?”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Fine, fine. I understand that you had some words with Bill Shatner today.”
Oh my god. Was he going to be mad at me?
“Uh . . . yeah . . .” I said.
“Wil, Bill Shatner is an ass, don’t you worry about him, okay? I am proud to have you on my show. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Did Gene just call WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER an ass? And then he said that he was proud of me?
“Gosh, Gene, thanks,” was the best I could do.
“Come by my office soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“See you then.” He hung up.
I began to feel better. Although a childhood hero had kicked me in the nuts, a bunch of people who I cared about and respected had all made efforts to put it in perspective. I felt loved, and protected.
The next day, when I got to work, there was an envelope on my dressing room table. It was addressed “To Master Wil Wheaton” and was “From the Office of William Shatner.”
I dropped my backpack, and tore it open. Inside, there was a single three by eight note card. The Paramount Pictures logo was stamped into the top in blue, and “William Shatner” was stamped into the bottom in gold.
There was a message typed on the card, which said:
Dear Wil,
You are a fine young actor, and I would be honored to have you on my bridge any day.
Sincerely yours,
Bill
He’d signed it in ink. Blue ink. My mouth hung open, and my hands trembled a bit. I held it up to the light, to make sure it was real. The phone rang. “Hello?”
“Wil? It’s Gene,” I recognized his voice immediately.
“Good morning Gene,” I said. “I spoke with Bill Shatner yesterday, and he should be dropping a note off for you today.”
“It’s already here,” I said. I read it to him. “Good. You are a fine young actor,” he said. “See you later.”
I couldn’t believe it. Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek and The Great Bird of the Galaxy, had called WILLIAM FUCKING SHATNER, Captain James T. Kirk and director of Star Trek V, and asked him to apologize to me, Wil Wheaton, 16 year-old acting ensign and drooling fan boy. Of all the wonderful gifts Gene gave me across the years, that is one of the most fondly remembered, because I know that without Gene’s intervention that note never would have been written.

PODOPHILIA It means foot lover!

Urban Dictionary says podophilia is the foot fetish of a human being. The most common sexual interest in a nonsexual body part: a paraphilia for feet. Usually including, but not limited to: sexual, romantic or platonic attraction to feet of the opposite sex. Podophilia for lot of people allegedly starts in childhood.

SHOPPING at the Asian Market. Don’t let 99ranch market hear this #asian #asianmarket #future #jazz #shopping

@vickiemnmdon’t let 99ranch market hear this #asian #asianmarket #future #jazz #shopping♬ 3435 SAX gabi rose _ enrose – Enrose

FOOTBALL FIELD SIZED FOOT PRINTS Scientist are perplexed about what species of animalia chordata that could create such for large prints. #GodzillaVsKong premiers Wednesday March 31st on HBOMax and theaters worldwide.

TUESDAY TRADE Bad influence.

 

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