I was walking along 4th Avenue in Brooklyn this morning when a delivery truck drove by in the opposite direction with a guy in a Mets cap sitting on the sideboard singing Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." He pointed at me, and sung out louder when we made eye contact. I didn't know quite what to do, but he seemed friendly enough, and I like the Mets, if not Survivor, and its a sunny day and all, so I flashed him the devil's-horns "rock-on" sign. (Like I said, I didn't know what to do. He was communicating with me, it seemed to call for some response. And I'm a [...]

In what seems like an unexceptional moment in the history of blogging, this gay Irish youngster wrote on his blog about his enormous abs and how much he likes them! But actually, it's fascinating? We mock people who work out, and think they're stupid, even while we demand that our famous people have absurd bodies. (Even their non-famous younger brothers have to work out.) There's a funky stew of jealousy, desire, hatred-and, naturally, animal compulsion to look. So his explanation of what it's like for him when taking off his shirt and having people sort of explode is really interesting.