MONDAY, MAY 22 The week kicked off with a porno-rific decision from the Supreme Court, which voted today to overturn a provision of a 1996 law designed to limit access to adult programming on cable television. According to the Associated Press (AP), the Supremes' 5-4 decision ruled that the provision requiring cable providers to restrict smutty programming to hours when children are least likely to be watching (specified as 10 pm to 6 am) violates the First Amendment's free-speech guarantees. Striking a blow for porn-lovin' night watchmen, horny housewives, and impressionable youngsters in home detention everywhere, Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote, "If a less restrictive means is available for the government to achieve its goals, the government must use it." In defense of their conservative-Christian-infuriating decision, the court pointed to another section of the same law, requiring cable operators to block any channel at the request of a subscriber, as offering an "equally effective but less restrictive" method of keeping porn away from kiddies.
··In other "Bill o' Rights" news: Today the Second Amendment renewed its vows with its iffiest spokes-model when Charlton Heston was re-elected to an unprecedented third term as president of the National Rifle Association.
TUESDAY, MAY 23 For years the city of Lynnwood has labored under its reputation as an affluent yet strangely trashy and soulless dump of a city. Today's Seattle Times featured a fascinating report on Lynnwood's efforts to renovate its image through the use of large artificial chickens. Following in the footsteps of Chicago's highly successful Cows on Parade exhibition (a collection of 300 colorful fiberglass cows planted along downtown Chicago sidewalks, reported to have brought in $200 million in tourist revenue last summer), Lynnwood's Chicken Project hopes to boost the town's appeal through the placement of giant fiberglass chickens at bus stops, bikini-clad chickens perched atop bank clocks, and painted chickens sitting on highway overpasses. "This will keep [visitors] here a little longer," said Lynnwood chicken artist C. C. Leonard. "They'll wander around and say, 'What's with all the chickens?'" Inspired by Lynnwood's civic logic, Seattle City Attorney Mark Sidran has hatched a parallel plan to boost Seattle's tourist appeal by tarring and feathering the homeless.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 24 Tonight, for the first time in history and with an unseemly degree of excitement, Last Days tuned in to the popular teenage soap opera Dawson's Creek to witness what had been billed as the first romantic kiss (meaning a "prelude to orgasm" kiss rather than an "I'm sorry your dad died" kiss) between two prime-time TV characters of the same gender. With bated breath we sat through the deeply annoying travails of Dawson and his perpetually upset comrades, amusing ourselves during the commercial breaks by theorizing on what caused the bizarre shape of the otherwise attractive James Van Der Beek's head. (Last Days' theory: whacked across the eyes with a baseball bat. Our friend Tracy's theory: yanked from the womb with too-powerful forceps.) At long last came "the kiss"--which was perfectly lovely--followed by an equally impressive scene of tears and bonding between one of the faggy smoochers and his large-hearted father. Yes, the show's absolute crap, but it's revolutionary crap, and we're a better nation for having aired it.
THURSDAY, MAY 25 In other homo news: Today the AP reported on the Baltimore nun currently giving a big saintly finger to the Vatican. Last summer, Sister Jeannine Gramick was ordered to cease ministering to those repugnant freaks of nature--homosexuals--and the obedient nun grudgingly complied. But this week, when the Vatican summoned Gramick to Rome to prohibit her from publicly discussing her situation, the sassy sister summoned her inner Norma Rae to denounce the enforced silence. "I choose to obey the voice of God within me," said Gramick. "And in this instance, the voice of God is saying that I should not collaborate in my own oppression." Stay tuned for further info on this ballsy bride of Jesus.
FRIDAY, MAY 26 Having lived in Seattle for a decade, Last Days can easily take for granted our fair town's many charms. In an effort to renew our romance with the Emerald City, tonight Last Days indulged in the ever-popular "tourist in your own town" game. Our first stop was the perpetually name-dropped Cha-Cha Lounge, where we tanked up on hooch and picked up a couple of foxy alterna-drunks. Soon all three of us were charging through the air on the futuristic "mono-rail," a large iron horse that speeds through the sky at up to 22 miles per hour! Upon our arrival at the heaven-on-Earth known as Seattle Center, we gobbled down some deep-fried elephant ears, then enjoyed a spin on the Center's excessively mean little roller coaster, which, unfortunately, caused one of the alterna-drunks to throw out his back. Things picked up again as we time-traveled back to the 1970s with a visit to the freakishly popular Polly Esther's nightclub, where it's Thursday night at Re-bar, seven nights a week. But the real action was happening at Polly's adjacent establishment, the '80s-ish Culture Club, where a packed house of giddy straight folk tossed back Jell-O shots and shimmied to shiny new wave hits while an overeager DJ repeatedly inquired if they were getting horny. After two hours of baked gaping, Last Days fled, leaving the alterna-drunks to fend for themselves, and happily, gratefully, exhaustedly returned home.
SATURDAY, MAY 27 Today: a knockout gratuity showdown at a beloved downtown dive. The battle began in the wee hours of the morning, when a Hot Tipper witnessed a very stingy man leave a $1 tip on his $100 bar tab. Before long, the jilted waitress and the penny-pinching freak were engaged in a heated debate that climaxed with the angry employee hopping onto the bar, pulling down her pants, and mock-wiping her butt with the paltry dollar before tossing it in the furious patron's face. Properly chastised, the man stormed from the bar and sped off in his SUV, which sported, tellingly, California license plates.
SUNDAY, MAY 28 The week closes out with another exciting Hot Tip from another beloved dive--this time, Capitol Hill's International House of Pancakes, where, at around noon today, a Hot Tipper (along with everyone else in the place) spied a gaggle of goths crowding their gothy selves into a corner of the popular low-rent restaurant. Turns out the dark-souled doofuses were in town for a goth convention (what did Seattle do to deserve this?), but instead of murmuring in low tones about their tortured souls, the goths chatted brightly about their stock options. You've come a long way, gothie.
To the woman who phoned in after losing her job at Whole Foods: Call Josh at 323-7101, ext. 3127. To the guy who phoned in to praise my return to Last Days while denouncing the work of guest columnist Tamara Paris (and stupidly referring to her as "a bitch"): Obviously you're an idiot. Don't ever read my column again. Everyone else: Send your Hot Tips to lastdays@thestranger.com or phone the 24-hour Hot Tips Hotline at 323-7101, ext. 3113.
