Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Close to Home — What it’s like on the street where you live
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
How retro teen mags might have handled Harveygate
Authentic fake news
Manning-up for the fab summer of 2018!
Hollywood has long looked the other way, covering up for the anomalies and sexual deviances of its stars as long as there was money to be made off of them.
You think today’s entertainment industry logrollers and pervy politicos have a leg up on deviant sexual behavior? It was Johnny B. M. Good when noted scatologist Chuck Berry transformed the ladies’ bathroom stalls of his restaurant into two-camera shoots. The caption found beneath a photo of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and dummy Charlie McCarthy in Kenneth Anger’s “Hollywood Babylon” reads simply, “No splinters between friends.” As for the well-guarded secret behind Eggs Danny Thomas Style, some recipes are best left to one’s own pop-culture archaeology.
Back in the day, tabloids and fan magazines alike were paid big bucks to squash stories. In 1935, a drunken Busby Berkeley veered into oncoming traffic, killing two and seriously injuring five others. Thanks to Warner Bros.’s crack legal team, the choreographer of such kaleidoscopic musical achievements as Footlight Parade, The Gang’s All Here, and four features with the words Gold Diggers in the title was eventually acquitted. His punishment? Twenty more years work behind the camera.
How might legendary Hollywood gossip queens Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons have handled someone like Harvey Weinstein? Simple. They wouldn’t have. According to her autobiography, after leaving 20th Century Fox Shirley Temple was placed under contract by M-G-M. Maureen Dowd recalled the day Gertrude Temple took her daughter to meet the bosses in a recent New York Times op-ed piece:
“Louis B. Mayer spirited away Gertrude Temple. The curly-haired superstar — hailed by F.D.R. for helping America get through the Depression — was taken to the office of Arthur Freed, an associate producer on The Wizard of Oz.
“After telling her that she would have to get rid of her baby fat, Freed abruptly stood up and pulled out his penis. The eleven-year-old had never even seen one before. She gave a nervous laugh, which offended the producer.
“‘Get out!’” he shouted.
Even if Gertrude Temple had brought this story to Hedda and/or Louella’s attention, it’s doubtful either would have run with it lest they risk putting a dent in their almost-as-lush lifestyles. In light of today’s daily dose of improprieties on the part of some power-blind celebrity or public servant, Hedda and Louella’s bodies would be reduced to a pair of whirling dervishes, careening off the walls of their coffins.
If Hollywood moguls spent as much time overseeing budgets and plastering plot-holes as they do walking around with their junk exposed, movie theatre attendance wouldn’t be at a 24-year low.
Enough with the moralizing. Who am I kidding? The whole point of this piece was to wring a few laughs with these wacky mockeries. The covers of the mags H&L worked for weren’t busy enough for this forger. I fondly recall the slapdash arrangement of cut-out heads splashed across the front pages of Teen Beat and 16 Magazine as they dangled from clothespins across the tops of subway newsstands. How might things have looked if the Fab Four consisted of Harv, Matt, Kevin, and Tobacko? Or Pence, Franken, Roy, and Weiner?
Here's something you might be interested in.
How retro teen mags might have handled Harveygate
Authentic fake news
How retro teen mags might have handled Harveygate
Authentic fake news
Manning-up for the fab summer of 2018!
Hollywood has long looked the other way, covering up for the anomalies and sexual deviances of its stars as long as there was money to be made off of them.
You think today’s entertainment industry logrollers and pervy politicos have a leg up on deviant sexual behavior? It was Johnny B. M. Good when noted scatologist Chuck Berry transformed the ladies’ bathroom stalls of his restaurant into two-camera shoots. The caption found beneath a photo of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and dummy Charlie McCarthy in Kenneth Anger’s “Hollywood Babylon” reads simply, “No splinters between friends.” As for the well-guarded secret behind Eggs Danny Thomas Style, some recipes are best left to one’s own pop-culture archaeology.
Back in the day, tabloids and fan magazines alike were paid big bucks to squash stories. In 1935, a drunken Busby Berkeley veered into oncoming traffic, killing two and seriously injuring five others. Thanks to Warner Bros.’s crack legal team, the choreographer of such kaleidoscopic musical achievements as Footlight Parade, The Gang’s All Here, and four features with the words Gold Diggers in the title was eventually acquitted. His punishment? Twenty more years work behind the camera.
How might legendary Hollywood gossip queens Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons have handled someone like Harvey Weinstein? Simple. They wouldn’t have. According to her autobiography, after leaving 20th Century Fox Shirley Temple was placed under contract by M-G-M. Maureen Dowd recalled the day Gertrude Temple took her daughter to meet the bosses in a recent New York Times op-ed piece:
“Louis B. Mayer spirited away Gertrude Temple. The curly-haired superstar — hailed by F.D.R. for helping America get through the Depression — was taken to the office of Arthur Freed, an associate producer on The Wizard of Oz.
“After telling her that she would have to get rid of her baby fat, Freed abruptly stood up and pulled out his penis. The eleven-year-old had never even seen one before. She gave a nervous laugh, which offended the producer.
“‘Get out!’” he shouted.
Even if Gertrude Temple had brought this story to Hedda and/or Louella’s attention, it’s doubtful either would have run with it lest they risk putting a dent in their almost-as-lush lifestyles. In light of today’s daily dose of improprieties on the part of some power-blind celebrity or public servant, Hedda and Louella’s bodies would be reduced to a pair of whirling dervishes, careening off the walls of their coffins.
If Hollywood moguls spent as much time overseeing budgets and plastering plot-holes as they do walking around with their junk exposed, movie theatre attendance wouldn’t be at a 24-year low.
Enough with the moralizing. Who am I kidding? The whole point of this piece was to wring a few laughs with these wacky mockeries. The covers of the mags H&L worked for weren’t busy enough for this forger. I fondly recall the slapdash arrangement of cut-out heads splashed across the front pages of Teen Beat and 16 Magazine as they dangled from clothespins across the tops of subway newsstands. How might things have looked if the Fab Four consisted of Harv, Matt, Kevin, and Tobacko? Or Pence, Franken, Roy, and Weiner?
Comments