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.
