Thursday, January 18, 2007
Night of a Dozen (Wonky) Stars
Hey fellow DC bloggers!
Just got back from the Ritz Carlton and the DC premier of Alexandra Pelosi's new HBO documentary Friends of God: A Road Trip With Alexandra Pelosi. It's all about Christian evangelicals and megachurches and such, including some deliciously ironic footage of Pastor Ted Haggart (pre-gay-hooker-and-crystal-meth-revelations) prattling on with his grotesquely curled upper lip about the power of the movement.
The movie was eh. I give it a "sheesh!" and two "myeaaahs." Pelosi tries and sometimes succeeds in achieving some interesting juxtapositions by letting various religio-nut shepherds and sheep speak for themselves, but relies too much on her largely secular humanist (satanic) audience to draw any deeper implications for U.S. culture and politics. I guess that's an intentional technique, but you know, a little voice over narration goes a long way if you've got any interesting things to say.
The most stimulating ideas came from the panel discussion afterwords, in which the always effusively intelligent Democratic pollster Anna Greenberg and a fairly impressive Republican pollster Tony Fabrizio were moderated by former W-booster and serial drooler Chris Matthews. It was a provocative and informed discussion, except for Matthews, of course.
But who cares about the movie? What about the (wonk) star power!!?
Well, before Wonkette gets to drop ass on the event, let me just say that I sat right behind Moby. He's very soft-mannered up close, as you would imagine, and has a nice low-budge cross tattooed on the back of his neck. He was being all pally with a vegan buddy of mine who works with him on animal rights. West Side! Woot woot!
Chris' wife Kathleen Matthews was there, looking slightly less horse-faced in real life than I had imagined she would. TV is not good for her.
Ms. Greenberg's husband, a strapping red-headed country gentleman, spent the pre-movie cocktail hour grinning slyly and towering a full foot over his wife.
David Corn of The Nation was in full bon vivant and bon mots mode while chowing some bay scallops in truffle oil risotto.
Representative Jane Harman was resplendent with head of spikey yet longish, softly glowing blonde hair that screamed, "I'm worth it, times 50!" She seems none the worse for wear after failing in her quest to chair the House Intelligence Committee. And she's got a pretty tight little body for a 90-year old.
Time magazine reporter Mike Allen was there looking vaguely gay, undersexed, and after a early career marked by breathless and vapid obsequiousness masking as "analysis," eager to begin ingratiating himself to newly empowered Dems without betraying his closeted rightwingishness.
Representative Ed Markey was tall and perma-tanned.
And Feminist Majority Foundation president Eleanor Smeal maintained the serene dignity befitting a nonprofit elder stateswoman. With her powder white hair, she had the cool demeanor of an Arctic Owl. (Her name is almost an anagram of demeanor. Hmm).
But the peace-day-resistanz was the mother of the filmmaker, Madam Speaker herself, Nancy Pelosi. I had the good fortune to be crunking about with Ms. Greenberg when the third-in-line to be Chief Executive cruised by to say hi. As introductions went around, I extended my hand and grasped the velvety firm hand that wraps around The Gavel (and probably some other interesting things). I was smitten, to say the least, and can now die happy. Does that make me gay?
Well, DC bloggers, that was my (wonk) star-filled night. Don't you wish you were there? Ha! Kiss my grits!
Wait a second. I don't know any DC bloggers.
Just got back from the Ritz Carlton and the DC premier of Alexandra Pelosi's new HBO documentary Friends of God: A Road Trip With Alexandra Pelosi. It's all about Christian evangelicals and megachurches and such, including some deliciously ironic footage of Pastor Ted Haggart (pre-gay-hooker-and-crystal-meth-revelations) prattling on with his grotesquely curled upper lip about the power of the movement.
The movie was eh. I give it a "sheesh!" and two "myeaaahs." Pelosi tries and sometimes succeeds in achieving some interesting juxtapositions by letting various religio-nut shepherds and sheep speak for themselves, but relies too much on her largely secular humanist (satanic) audience to draw any deeper implications for U.S. culture and politics. I guess that's an intentional technique, but you know, a little voice over narration goes a long way if you've got any interesting things to say.
The most stimulating ideas came from the panel discussion afterwords, in which the always effusively intelligent Democratic pollster Anna Greenberg and a fairly impressive Republican pollster Tony Fabrizio were moderated by former W-booster and serial drooler Chris Matthews. It was a provocative and informed discussion, except for Matthews, of course.
But who cares about the movie? What about the (wonk) star power!!?
Well, before Wonkette gets to drop ass on the event, let me just say that I sat right behind Moby. He's very soft-mannered up close, as you would imagine, and has a nice low-budge cross tattooed on the back of his neck. He was being all pally with a vegan buddy of mine who works with him on animal rights. West Side! Woot woot!
Chris' wife Kathleen Matthews was there, looking slightly less horse-faced in real life than I had imagined she would. TV is not good for her.
Ms. Greenberg's husband, a strapping red-headed country gentleman, spent the pre-movie cocktail hour grinning slyly and towering a full foot over his wife.
David Corn of The Nation was in full bon vivant and bon mots mode while chowing some bay scallops in truffle oil risotto.
Representative Jane Harman was resplendent with head of spikey yet longish, softly glowing blonde hair that screamed, "I'm worth it, times 50!" She seems none the worse for wear after failing in her quest to chair the House Intelligence Committee. And she's got a pretty tight little body for a 90-year old.
Time magazine reporter Mike Allen was there looking vaguely gay, undersexed, and after a early career marked by breathless and vapid obsequiousness masking as "analysis," eager to begin ingratiating himself to newly empowered Dems without betraying his closeted rightwingishness.
Representative Ed Markey was tall and perma-tanned.
And Feminist Majority Foundation president Eleanor Smeal maintained the serene dignity befitting a nonprofit elder stateswoman. With her powder white hair, she had the cool demeanor of an Arctic Owl. (Her name is almost an anagram of demeanor. Hmm).
But the peace-day-resistanz was the mother of the filmmaker, Madam Speaker herself, Nancy Pelosi. I had the good fortune to be crunking about with Ms. Greenberg when the third-in-line to be Chief Executive cruised by to say hi. As introductions went around, I extended my hand and grasped the velvety firm hand that wraps around The Gavel (and probably some other interesting things). I was smitten, to say the least, and can now die happy. Does that make me gay?
Well, DC bloggers, that was my (wonk) star-filled night. Don't you wish you were there? Ha! Kiss my grits!
Wait a second. I don't know any DC bloggers.
