Dan Savage, the syndicated sex columnist and editorial director of the Seattle alt weekly The Stranger, yesterday wrote on the paper's news and arts blog that he has been in Los Angeles all month working on a "non-airing presentation pilot" for HBO that would basically bring his advice column to the screen. The screen!

According to a draft of press release that's sitting on my desk here at HBO—in my own office! with a lock on the door! I could be naked in here!—"Savage Love," the (potential) teevee show, "will focus on current events and cultural trends with sex as the filter." I'm hoping to bring a new kind of conversation to TV about sex—an honest conversation, one that's informed without being (too) wonky, funny without being (too) cruel, sexy without being (too) cheesy. Basically, my sex-advice column—but on the teevee!

The Association of Alternative Weeklies today links to a Craigslist "Rants & Raves" section ad posted a week ago - headed "HBO Savage Love" - that offers one clue about the pilot, which is being taped Aug. 27 in Glendale, Calif. The ad seeks "people who use the CB6000 (or any model) to talk about their experiences using the device."

That would be a male chastity belt.

Obama's Top 10 apologies, P.J. O'Rourke, some nice things about David Carradine, after the jump.

• Mark Tapscott at the Examiner has collected Obama's "Top 10" apologies. I don't know why these made it to the top, seeing as he has apologized quite a few times (I'm still waiting for him to say sorry for making me a shareholder of GM). My favorite one (on the list) is his apology to Turkey for even thinking about recognizing the Armenian Genocide: "“The United States is still working through some of our own darker periods in our history. … Our country still struggles with the legacies of slavery and segregation, the past treatment of Native Americans.” What kind of apology is that? I mean, really? He's sorry for threatening to recognize that Turkey may have killed as many as 1.5 million Armenians in between World Wars I and II? Diplomacy goes right over my head.
• P.J. O’Rourke is coming to town! From Jeff Winkler's pick this week: "The title of P.J. O’Rourke’s newest book is a mouthful: Driving Like Crazy: Thirty Years of Vehicular Hell-Bending, Celebrating America the Way It’s Supposed to Be–With an Oil Well in Every Backyard, a Cadillac Escalade in Every Carport, and the Chairman of the Federal Reserve Mowing Our Lawn. Its contents can be reduced to this: A hilarious ode to environmental enemy No. 1 from one of the country’s best living satirists....As sharp as the man can be, greenies and granola types shouldn’t shy away from O’Rourke’s tendency to reverse his Cadillac-sized thesis over one’s head again and again." Hahaha! I'm laughing just thinking about it! Read the whole pick for relevant deets.
  
• Pop culture guru Nick Gillespie did some eulogizing yesterday of David Carradine: "Having the Caucasian scion of a great American acting family playing a dispossessed Chinaman was weird enough, but the show itself was a relentless rotoscope of mystic Orient cliches that never stinted on displaying the (historically accurate) odious racism of prior generations of Americans. Somehow those lessons emanating from the backlots of the San Fernando Valley in the late 20th century seemed way too cheaply learned (especially from a Hollywood that continued to be leery of casting actual Asians in any but supporting roles), but the show absolutely helped broaden our cultural palate in all sorts of ways." (In case y'all missed it, Carradine was found hanged in his Bangkok hotel room, apparently a result of auto-erotic asphyxiation. Somehow that seems more fitting than dying of old age.)

For the past five years, Ellie Sachse of Cleveland Park has been collecting Halloween candy for D.C.'s sex workers. Last year, her neighbors donated some 80 pounds of the stuff, which was then handed off from vans owned and operated by HIPS (Helping Individual Prostitutes Survive).

The drive is on again this year and Sachse invites dropoffs at her home on Newark Street (for the specific address, log onto the Cleveland Park Listserv). She writes in a post: "These people are often hungry and cannot otherwise get food while they are working. While they enjoy the candy they have access to important advice on health and other services available for them. HIPS' aim is to reduce harm not only to their clients, but to the community."

In a phone interview, Sachse says she got involved through her daughter, who worked for HIPS through the Americorps program. Ellie Sachse then served on the board.

The candy drive continues, in part, "because I know when I had kids I'd give my eye teeth to get the candy out of the house....I don't want that to end up on my hips, either."

She acknowledges candy isn't the most nutritious food item to give to a busy sex worker. But it's something, it's energy, she says, and prostitutes often have to grab and go; many are not allowed to have a meal while working.

"I'm sure if they had piles of fruit, they'd give that out...but this time of year, there's a lot going on. There's a lot of candy," she says.

(photo by JJ & Special K)

Courtesy of Amanda Hess, "Tony's" full post on the New Hill East Yahoo listserv:

Last night as I left the Stadium/Armory metro south exit an man was urinating on the metro elevator. I told him that was not a bathroom. He immediately flew into a rage, shouting at me, "You ain't a cop, so fuck you. I'll piss where I want. I'll piss in you mouth you mother fucker. Black people were here before white people. I'll kick you fucking funky ass, mother fucker. White people shouldn't be around here." I educated him that white people were here before black people, and before that native Americans. Of course this ignorant racist couldn't care less about the facts. He's black and a victim, so fuck me.

I walked away, fearing for my life and safety. I called 911 and reported his crimes. Urinating in public is a crime. Threatening to assault someone is a crime. Add in the racism and the assault threat becomes a hate crime.

People make the ghetto. This man does not deserve to walk among the rest of us law abiding citizens who only want to improve Capital Hill and make it a better place, and a safe place to raise a family.

If you encounter people like this, report them to the police so they can be brought to justice for their crimes.

If you never wipe away the shit, it will always be a crappy place.

I identify with Tony's disgust over being told that "whites shouldn't be here." Such sentiments mirror--at least in spirit--southern laws from the early 20th-century that required African American laborers and servants to leave white towns by sundown or risk lynchings or incarceration. But I'm disappointed that Tony's response was, in effect, "we were here first." Referencing by implication colonialism and the slave trade in order to one-up a bigot is like competing in a racial pissing contest: we all lose, and we stink afterward.

Otherwise, Todd is a perfect example of the middle-to-upper-class DCer who'd rather pop pustules (with police assistance) than tackle the actual virus. If Todd were slightly less dense--perhaps a self-righteous progressive instead of a paranoid yuppie bigot--he would've wondered why the man didn't relieve himself legally in a public restroom. Next, he would have bemoaned D.C.'s dearth of public restrooms: According to the www.thebathroomdiaries.com (an excellent guide to potty stops), the only "free" restrooms in D.C. are located in government buildings, none of which are open 24 hours a day. His next move--because it's clear Todd really cares about "improv[ing] Capital Hill and mak[ing] it a better place, and a safe place to raise a family" (and using the state to do so)--would've been to call for lots and lots of public toilets, and an army of custodians to keep them stomachable, and signage discouraging Craigslist random encounters and drug use, and a handful of handsome MPD dicks to bait and bust the pervs.

But it's likely beyond Todd (and most of the decision makers in the District) that locking up public urinators or building public restrooms don't reflect the full spectrum of choices. But getting beyond that very expensive, very ineffective Either/Or proposition means confronting the deep causes of poverty and crime, like the drug war, poisonous entitlement programs, and a failed public school system.

Until then, I'm going to look the other way the next time some broken booze hound whips it out in public--I'd probably do the same damn thing.

When I clicked through the link in the press release from Integrity Toys (the name of which reminds me of Tim and Eric's Dadaist Cinco brand) I saw that the new Katy Perry doll had sold out, and that fans of miniaturized, bi-curious pop stars will have to add their names to a waiting list (the Integrity Toys Katy Perry GPS Anklet hasn't sold quite as well).

I'm debating putting my name on the waiting list for the doll, if only so that I can walk around in a few weeks mumble-singing "I kissed a doll and I liked it."

Actually, fuck that. Won't everybody please STOP thinking of the children? For just once? At least regarding something as traumatizing as...seriously? Movie ads?

To wit, the latest outrage over Kevin Smith's upcoming film, Zack and Miri Make a Porno. First, Weinstein Co. decided to use stick figures on the posters because Joe the Prude thought photos of stars Elizabeth Banks and Seth Rogen (!) were too racy. Now the title itself has gotta go:

Rina Cutler, Philadelphia deputy mayor for transportation, said the stick-figure posters were cute and clever but unacceptable for bus shelters where schoolchildren would see the word "porno."

"If they want to call the movie `Zack and Miri,' that's fine, but Zack and Miri cannot make a porno on my bus shelters," Cutler said.

Now, I'm no child-welfare expert. But I suspect those kids Ms. Cutler is so concerned about protecting might not suffer as much psychological damage from asking Mommy and Daddy what “porno” means than from more popular bus-stop distractions such as Crack While U Wait or Mr. Homeless's Magic Wang.

Plus, Zack and Miri is funny as hell, so it's all the more unfortunate that Smith has to take a hit because the sex hysterics of America are freaking out over a word. (Jersey Girl, though, that was a title to be feared.)

This newspaper won't be among the censors. And for an extra dash of offense, here's the red-band trailer.

The American workplace’s storied glass ceiling is in pretty bad shape. Female workers are on the fast track to conquering the upper echelons of all sectors of industry, including the nation’s highest office. But what about that unsung other half of our nation’s workforce: men? In 2008, what workplaces may truly call themselves manly?

In order to find D.C.'s remaining manly strongholds, The Sexist is pleased to announce D.C.'s Manliest Workplace Competition! Beginning next week, The Sexist will run 64 D.C. workplaces in eight industries through a highly unsophisticated algorithm to assess each organization’s manliness. In order to determine manliness, the Sexist will take the top 10 positions in each organization, ascertain which positions are staffed by men, then assign a point value to each male staffer. A man in the highest-ranking position (i.e., president, CEO, publisher) will earn 10 points; one in the 10th-most-powerful spot will receive one point. The manliest workplace—one that employs all men, all the time, in the most powerful and well-paid positions—can score as high as 55 on the Manly Index. The least manly workplace—one that employs no men, none of the time, in any position—will receive a zero.*

Who’s manlier—the National Cathedral or the Founding Church of Scientology? The Supreme Court or the U.S. Postal Service? Stay tuned with The Sexist as the tournament continues to see which workplaces are manly enough to ignore all those pesky cracks in the glass ceiling. Also stay tuned for Crack Watch!—where we tally the number of women we find creeping into the org. charts of D.C. institutions.

Think you know manly from mannish? Fill out a bracket by Monday, Oct. 20, to be submitted in our contest. The entrant with the bracket that most closely resembles the Sexist’s findings will win a City Paper prize pack!

* Note: The Sexist reserves right to base assumptions on hasty once-over of workplace’s org chart. If a workplace’s chart does not have clearly ranked positions, the Sexist will arbitrarily assign rank. If a workplace employs fewer than 10 people in total, the Sexist will improvise.

Read more about the tournament on The Sexist, the City Paper's sex and gender blog.

In an effort to bring City Paper customers more, more, more, [more quality journalism!] despite our dwindling resources (and mounting depression), Amanda Hess and Yours Truly bring you "Five Minutes You'll Never Get Back," in which the two of us (and Intern Bobby) talk politics and sex, sex, sex! Please make your way over to The Sexist blog for a look/listen (and catch it again next Tuesday!)

Feel free to hate on it or love it in the comments section (as if any of you were waiting for permission). We're even open to ideas on how we can make it better. We will disregard blatantly cruel or stupid comments, unless we decide to incorporate them into an untitled section where we hate on people for being blatantly stupid and cruel.

*Originally titled "Four Minutes You'll Never Get Back," but Hess and I could not stop talking. (Psst, that's how you know it's good!)

Pretty bad. Here's what they left out: Hatch was two weeks from taking a new job as a Baltimore City Police Officer. And his method of assault was particularly horrific.

According to a sentencing memorandum released by the D.C. U.S. Attorney's Office, Hatch picked up his victim one night last November, near the intersection of 10th and K Streets NW. She got in his car, they agreed on a price ($100, for sex) and drove somewhere more private. The victim told police Hatch seemed like a nice guy at first. But when she climbed into the back seat, he turned mean. He pulled out a gun and demanded oral sex. From the memorandum:

"Once he became erect, the defendant forced [the victim] to engage in vaginal sex. During the course of the sexual assault, the defendant lost his erection and forced [the victim] to perform oral sex on him a second time so that he could regain his erection."

Amazingly, he allowed the young woman to escape once he had finished. She immediately called the cell phone of a police officer she knew, with no answer. She called another prostitute to put out a warning. Then a friend picked her up in his car and together they trailed Hatch, who continued to cruise the area for another 15 minutes at least. All the while, the victim was trying to reach police, who finally stopped Hatch an hour and a half after the assault. Asked if he had a gun, Hatch copped to a .45 caliber semi-automatic handgun in his glove box. He didn't have a permit to transport the gun. He said he'd meant to go to the firing range, but went to two malls, Applebee's and a friends house to play video games instead. He said the gun had slipped his mind.

At 2 a.m. he decided to go clubbing with friends in DC. Problem was, all the clubs were closing. Then, Hatch told police, the victim flagged him down as he drove by. He didn't realize she was a prostitute. He didn't deny they had sex, or that a payment was eventually discussed. That might have been hard given the presence of DNA evidence.

Hatch wans"t worried about how his arrest might impact his life, at least not his role as a deacon at church. In a telephone conversation recorded from his jail cell, he told a friend: "It wasn't like I was playing around in the church ... this is something that happened on my own personal time that I just got in trouble for."

Hatch hadn't yet completed the background examination for his job offer from the Baltimore police. I wonder how they test for selective morality.

But for now, as with the last several months, I'm still unable to sign on to AOL's homepage because of some software glitch, and, on the advice of AOL troubleshooting forums, have to go through the AOL-India Web site to check my email.

It's a hassle, but a funny one. Because through my visits to AOL-India I've learned so much about Indians. All I can say is "Oh, Calcutta?"

Turns out the nation of more than 1.1 billion people is more sex-obsessed than us Yanks.

Well, in the eyes of AOL-India's editors, anyway.

So, in the interest of sharing my anthropological awakening, here's the featured news AOL-India put on its front page this weekend. :

Findings of a behavioral study are revealed in "Why People Have Sex: It Feels Good!"

New technology is outlined in "Move Over, Internet Age, the Spray-On Condom Era Has Begun!"

Researchers offer domestic advice in "How Not to Suck in Bed!"

Anatomical issues are mulled in "Ashkay Kumar's Butt Looks Good in Levi's!

And, um, "Nine Die as Orissa Gets Flooded."

Which would be OK if AOL e-mail weren't such an awful product.

Everybody around me has abandoned their AOL accounts by now. As friends have moved on to Gmail or Yahoo or whatever over the years, they've cited the constant trouble sending or receiving music and graphics or any sort of large files, and the fact that sent e-mails end up in people's spam folders as likely as an inbox, because AOL has such a lousy record of policing such things.

All problems I've encountered. And still do.

Yet I've held on.

But, I'm at the end of my "@aol.com" rope. I can't even check my AOL e-mail anymore without big problems. Since mid-summer, when I try to sign on to aol.com using a Firefox browser, most times I'll get an error message saying "The content you've requested is temporarily unavailable."

I Googled and learned that I'm not alone. The easiest solution I found, other than getting rid of AOL once and for all, was: "Sign on through AOL-India."

So for months I've been using the AOL-India homepage every day. It's been enlightening. I always thought the Indians were a conservative bunch, punishing folks for public displays of affection and the like. But the India I read about on AOL-India is even trashier and more sex obsessed than the U.S. It's all barely clad women, all the time.

The news headlines are hilarious. The front page of AOL-India last night juxtaposed "Blasts Tear Up Delhi" with "Most Intriguing Innerwear." The featured stories included "Priyanka Burns the Ramp Yet Again!" "Sleep Tight for Good Sex...So They Say!" "Why People Like Sex," and "Binge Drinking and Sex."

In other words, I really gotta get rid of my AOL account.

And, you know, move to India.

Reading Knopf's description of the book on Amazon, it's hard to see how he'll pull it off without a few Postie stand-ins. And back in April, as the video below shows, he told Nathan's owner Carol Joynt that the book came "largely from my own experience." In the interview, he also discusses the responses he got from his agent and editor after filing his first draft of sex scenes. That's at about 1:30 (via):

My friend, Todd, was recently walking back from a Saturday night at the bars with two other friends when they were jumped and savagely beaten by six guys. The victims were gay. They did not provoke. . . . My friend was beaten so badly that he has little recollection beyond the first punch, and he did not wake up until many hours later in the hospital. He has relied on witnesses to tell him how brutal the beating was and the fact that the word “fags” repeatedly flew from the mouths of the attackers.

After recounting attack, Farris launches into a critique of MPD's response to the beating:

While DC has a Gay and Lesbian Liaison Unit (GLLU), the police assigned to investigate the attack have little connection or, it seems, respect for the GLLU. As Todd put it, "The GLLU was involved in my case at the beginning. And although they were polite and offered to help, it was made very clear to me by the officer in charge that they were not in charge of the case and any dealings must go through them and not the GLLU."

One of Farris' prescriptions for raising awareness about D.C.-area gay-bashings is to keep blogging them:

One way to wake up local officials---and, frankly, ourselves---is to document gay-bashings (even those some call “muggings”) so that we can all see what is happening. We need to list all of the bashings that have occurred in the past year or so, with locations and outcomes, to we can demonstrate that the problem is real and that the problem is urgent.

TNG is encouraging readers to send their personal stories to the following address: stophate@thenewgay.net.