Lou Perryman murdered with an ax

OK, this is really weird.
Lou Perryman is - or rather was - an Austin, TX actor who was an assistant photographer on the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, shot in the Austin area back in 1973 (and a lifelong obsession of mine, in case you didn't know, which you did, because I talk about it every 5 minutes). Then in the nauseating sequel released in 1986, he played L.G. McPeters, a radio station sound tech and good ol' Texas cowboy who comes to a bloody and disturbing end beneath Chop Top's claw hammer. (This scene, probably more than any other in any film, scarred me for life as a child.)
Well, I'm just finding out about this now, but apparently a couple months ago Perryman was murdered with an ax by a bipolar man in his Austin home. The motive isn't known other than that the man needed Perryman's car and other items and decided to kill him to get them.
With an ax.
Yucko.
It's really bizarre since he played this character in a film (Texas Chainsaw Part 2) who comes to a memorably gruesome end.
I just don't know what to make of this. I almost want to believe it's made up.

Here's a link to an article on the topic from Fangoria magazine.

This just in...

My editor, Ariel Gore, tells me Just Out has a nice little write-up on the book "Portland Queer," which I contributed to, and which has now been released. If you're in Portland, attend the readings! (Wish I could.) Go here for info, or to order your copy!

Now, Just Out, please take this in the loving spirit in which it's intended...and I know you know this already...but you really need to get a better website and get away from the PDF file versions of the paper. That shit is laborious and antiquated.

kiss meow

glam

Suggestions, please!

I want to pitch an in-depth article (anywhere from 1000 to 5000 words) comparing/contrasting the different versions of "Brideshead Revisited" - novel, miniseries and film - and need ideas of a venue for such a piece.

Something literary, highbrow, intellectual enough. It'll have a gay slant to it, so gay publications seem an obvious choice, but magazines (I'm thinking Out) are usually fluff pieces; they don't go in depth and they aren't overly literary. It's more about clothes, cocktails and other ephemera. Or politics. Book reviews are usually blurbs. I'm part of a dying breed, I suppose....the literary intellectual.

It could be a film magazine.
A literary magazine.
A British publication of some kind.
Just a high-end publication in general that publishes essays, such as The New Yorker. (And I'll send it to them, but they'll send a form rejection letter if they reply at all. I mean, they're THE NEW YORKER, and I'm just...me.)
Does McSweeney's publish this sort of thing? I forget.

Thanks for any ideas you may have

xo

glam aka tony

Cardassians!

Post-script to my post of last night...weren't the Kardashians an alien race on Star Trek: The Next Generation?

Someone with more motivation than me should really jump on that idea for a parody. Just give me an "associate producer" credit or something.

Faggots

Has anyone read this book? (FAGGOTS, by Larry Kramer.)

Is it any good?

Reality Bites

So I have NEVER BEEN a fan of reality TV - well, maybe The Real World waaaay back in the day, but I can't think of a single one since - and had prematurely rejoiced to think it was in its death throes. But it seems the viewing public has developed a taste for this dreck.

Whenever I'm flipping through the TV guide channel I see numerous episodes of this show called The Kardashians on the E! Network. WTF. I resent the fact that I have a vague idea who these people are just because they're talked about and someone considered them interesting enough to give them a TV show. I've seen a few clips and it looks like a group of self-indulgent, spoiled little bitches who graduated from the Paris Hilton school of stardom and actually believe that their every move is interesting enough to warrant scrutiny from the viewing masses.

I have no idea who these fucking people are, and I really don't care.

One thing's for sure: they aren't Pedro Zamora. If "Generation Me" was, what, the 90s? Then I guess we must now be living in "GENERATION NO ONE EXISTS BUT ME."

So...could you please pass me the remote?

Land of Lost Childhood

The other night I stumbled upon an ancient episode of the 1970s TV show "Land of the Lost" on...I think it was the SciFi channel. I haven't seen this show since I was enamored by it as a child. It's a really weird feeling to revisit a totem of your childhood and see it through adult eyes as the shoddy, cheap production it was. Watching the intro segment, with its cheap puppet dinosaurs and weak theme song, I said, "Is this really what it was like?" I remember it so differently.

The Sleestaks still had kind of an eerie dark glamour to them, though. It was funny to see that this show was produced by Sid and Marty Krofft, the same people who made "Sigmund and the Sea Monsters," another show I vaguely remember through the nebulous cocoon of early consciousness.

Also funny: the character named "Chaka" (pictured above - idn't he cute? like a balding sasquatch midget) would seem to be a forerunner of Chewbacca in Star Wars, which came out three years after the TV show.

The lesson here, I suppose, is that AGE (both mine and that of the program) is key to the definition of camp. In other words, it didn't appear campy to me as a child, in the anything-goes 70s, but now it's incredibly campy. Which doesn't necessarily diminish the "fun factor." If anything, it may increase it.

Incidentally, I see a film called "Land of the Lost" is about to be released. Will Ferrell stars. Although I gather it doesn't have much to do with the TV series.

Something about eating the eyeballs from a deer carcass.