Justice disrobes! Just in time for Pride
Lady Justice is a dyke!. At the very least, it's an extraordinary coincidental show of support: at the same time that one million raging homosexuals and voyeurs descended on NYC in various states of undress, Lady Justice discreetly shrugged off her drapes. Ashcroft must be rolling over in his grave.
I missed the great event of Pride, the parade, today; I wasn't sure I could handle it, frankly. The dyke march yesterday was a tepid precursor but I cheered it on and thus I did my small part for the freedom of queers everywhere to get drunk and get naked while under the protection of the NYPD.
Plus it's been too frikkin hot. I was almost delirious from the heat yesterday after only a few hours and I stayed out, like an idiot, for ten more. Too much to do to go home! I ended the day at Central Park, watching the premiere of the charming As You Like It in the company of -- oddly enough -- Keanu Reeves. He was scruffy and serene in person but I couldn't get over wondering what on earth he was doing there. Perhaps someone pays him to lurk around Shakespeare and make it awkward by the, er, force of his presence. Perhaps Marlowe pays him from beyond the grave.
The night before I also saw excellent theater: Doubt. Gave me shivers. No star sightings to go along with that, though. It's funny to contemplate what taglines Hollywood would give to Broadway plays if it were assigned to promote them. "Doubt: This Thanksgiving, you won't believe your eyes!" "Doubt: Catholic school will never be the same." "Doubt: When America was on its knees because it was possibly being molested by a priest, she brought us to our feet!"
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