these lines really aren't so blurry ...

Robin Thicke's latest song, "Blurred Lines," a No. 1 hit, has raised some controversy, but is it the song, or the video, or both that offend? Thicke has been compared to Justin Timberlake, but Timberlake's latest singles are much more romantic than the blatant come-hithering of Thicke's song, where he is abetted in his attempted seduction by Pharrell Williams and T.I.

The song is undeniably catchy, a perfect summer radio hit. But when you are stopped in traffic, some of the more questionable lyrics may sneak through the bouncy grooves:

"You the hottest bitch in this place
I feel so lucky
Hey, hey, hey
You wanna hug me
Hey, hey, hey
What rhymes with hug me?
Hey, hey, hey"

and

"... I'll give you something big enough to tear your ass in two ..."

Nothing blurry about those lines, or the blow-up silver letters in the video taped to a wall that proclaim, "Robin Thicke has a big dick." Subtle.


I didn't find the video particularly seductive or shocking, just kinda dumb. It actually works against the song, which is hard not to like. But the three lovely topless ladies featured in the video just seem bored or embarrassed — they keep trying to cover their breasts, with their hands or other incongruous objects. They look more comfortable, even more sexy, in the shots when they are clothed. The three dudes, predictably, look like they are having the time of their lives. Watching three gorgeous, bored, mostly naked models. Rock and roll.

The real question about Blurred Lines is not whether the lyrics or the video is offensive, but if this sort of "romantic" approach really works in the real world. And why did Williams and Thicke feel the need to push the envelope? The song starts out maybe not innocently, but typically enough, with Thicke trying to convince a girl in a club to drop her guy for him:

"OK now he was close, tried to domesticate you
But you're an animal, baby, it's in your nature
Just let me liberate you
Hey, hey, hey
You don't need no papers
Hey, hey, hey
That man is not your maker"

A guy on the make, for sure, but not threatening. Pop music is, frequently, one long seduction or persuasion. Madonna could be just as demanding a potential lover as Thicke & Co.:

Open your heart
I'll make you love me (come on baby)
It's not that hard
If you just turn the key (I'm gonna get to you)

Where feminists start to get uncomfortable with "Blurred Lines" is the "I know you want it," chorus, which directly references rape scenarios — "She was asking for it." Maybe not the artists' intentions, but maybe ... We talk about consensual sex being the ideal situation, but there is always a give-and-take. There are countless (beloved) art and pop culture examples of men trying to "break down" a girl's resistance and give in to his charms.

"And that's why I'm gon' take a good girl
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
You're a good girl
Can't let it get past me
You're far from plastic
Talk about getting blasted
I hate these blurred lines"

Maybe that is what is most disturbing about "Blurred Lines." The battle of the sexes is frequently a true battle. And for many, sex, even romance, is not complete unless someone gives in and lets the other person be the victor. Not exactly blurred lines, but lines drawn in the sand.

what's wrong with this picture?

We had lunch yesterday at a local drug store luncheonette. Yes, there are thankfully still some drug stores in the good ol' U.S. of A. that have lunch counters. It's a step back in time. We've learned not to order anything too fancy — just eggs or a burger, but it's a fun place to go to from time to time.

The tropical murals add a certain je ne sais quoi

After lunch we can peruse the shelves and do a little shopping if we like. The kid heads straight for the aisle that has toys in it of course, and today this caught my eye. Notice anything?

For Ages 3+  - Really?

Need a closer look?

That quite the outfit, nurse

What is the target audience for this doctor set? Is it just me? It says 3+, but the nurse looks more Benny Hill or '80s-era Madonna than what a little three year-old should be picturing during roleplay.

Nearby was a second, anime-style set which had artwork that was also a little weird, but at least seemed age-appropriate.

Aimed at a younger than 3+ audience?

Silly artwork, but pretty innocent

Oh well, the eggs were good.

you don't take a photograph— you ask, quietly, to borrow it.—unknown

Steven Klein's photographs sometimes verge on the trying-too-hard department for me (subcategory: sweat), but I can't deny that I love these images of some of my favorites ...

I really like his work when it's a bit more focused on one or two subjects.

Daniel Radcliffe, from Details Magaizine

A Rod, from Details Magazine

Jonathan Rhys Meyers, for Energie

Madonna, W Magazine

Brad and Angelina, W Magazine

who needs Gray's anatomy?

No, not the silly show, the textbook.

The Daily Mail has a feature outlining all of the various sinewy details of the artist formerly known as Madonna, now known as Figure 52.

What the? What could she be? Wha?

The mind boggles.

No woman, as they age is thrilled to wave at someone and watch the lower part of their arm wave the other way, but this is freakin' ree-deek-u-lous.

It's not attractive, It's not feminine. or masculine. It's almost inhuman.

Yeesh.

i miss danceteria

I was grooving to some songs on the iPhone as I settled into the office with no one around this morning, when this thought popped into my head: I miss Danceteria.

Apparently I'm not alone, as they have their own blog (the club's been closed since 1986.)

I thought back to how fun a place it was to go while I was in art school in NYC. It was a night club, and probably as sleazy as any other, but it never really felt that way. It just felt fun. It was a place where I could go and dance, of course, with different things happening on each of its four floors, so there wasn't much opportunity for boredom, unless that was your goal. It was also somewhere in the big, bad city where I felt that I could go out on my own, either meeting friends there, or occasionally, just by myself.

I remember one occasion where I had been going stir crazy in my Brooklyn apartment and called a bunch of friends, but they were all settled in for the night and didn't want to venture out. But I could go to Danceteria. I set off for the subway, got to 21st Street, got waved through the door (somehow the bouncers could tell the locals from the bridge and tunnel crowd) and made my way in. I think I danced, had a drink or two, and ended up on the top floor where they were showing music videos. Not much different from what I could have done at home, but I was out in New York, and that was important on that night.

Mostly I remember going there with friends and dancing, to music no one would dare call disco at the time, like Michael Jackson and Madonna before she became sinewy, and Fine Young Cannibals.


I also remember seeing a few famous people. Billy Idol, not budging from the bar, the Clash's Mick Jones, hanging out with his friends who would later become the band Big Audio Dynamite. I loved The Clash, but I remember not really knowing what to say to Jones, because my favorite was Joe Strummer.

Probably the only occasion I have to go dancing these days is at somebody's wedding. With the 80s revival in full swing, the DJ is bound to play something from that era, and if I close my eyes, maybe for a moment, I'll be back there on 21st, between 5th and 6th, on the second floor-until my adorable dance partner, my daughter, squeezes my hand and brings me back to the present.