Andanh.com

I'm writing in celebration of the California decision to allow gays to marry. I'm thrilled—I've always thought that the idea that gay marriage could hurt or affect straight people in any way was ridiculous. But a year ago, I found out I was wrong.

I'm a straight woman in her late 20s dating "the one," by which I mean the man who I'd be happy to wind up married to. We've been dating about two years, very happily, but one year into the relationship he informed me—he didn't ask—that he was going to be the sperm donor for a lesbian couple that wanted to start a family. I had an immediate, visceral, physical reaction to the idea of another woman bearing his child. That's an experience I hope to have with him!

What shocked me was the range of reactions among my friends. My gay friends and my boyfriend insisted that it was "none of my business"! They also accused me of being selfish and called me a homophobe! My straight friends, female and male, agreed that doing this without my consent was outrageous!

Ultimately, he didn't do it, but this conflict very nearly ended our relationship. So going forward, I think we straights and you gays have to talk about this question: If gays have a right to marriage and family, do they also have a right to start those families with my boyfriend—no matter what I think and feel about it? Wouldn't it, at the very least, be only polite to ask the girlfriend or wife for her consent and blessing, too?

-Questions About Gay Marriage

So, QAGM, you're thrilled that gay people won the right to marry in California even though you realized a year before gay marriage was legalized in California that you had been wrong to support marriage equality because it would lead gay people to believe that we have a right to your boyfriend's spunk—the position that lesbian couple and all your gay friends arrived at before gay marriage was legalized in California.

What the fuck are you talking about, lady?

I've read the Supreme Court of California's decision legalizing gay marriage, all 140 pages of it, twice, QAGM, and I can assure you there's not one word in it about your boyfriend's spunk. The gay marriage decision and your boyfriend's aborted decision to serve as sperm donor for this lesbian couple have nothing whatsoever to do with each other, and your efforts to link them only make you look like a nutcase.

And that's a shame, QAGM, because you're actually in the right.

Setting aside the legit mystical crap—the fact that most breeders regard having children by their spouses as the ultimate expression of their magical heterosexual love—you had every right on purely logistical grounds to object to your boyfriend fathering a child by these women. Was your boyfriend planning to be involved in the life of this child? If so, time he spent with this child would have taken time away from whatever children you might have together. And what sort of relationship did he imagine this child would have had with your children? Could he have wound up on the hook for child support, which would've impacted you financially, too? And what if this lesbian couple had died in a car wreck after this child had been born? Would the child then come to live with you?

Your boyfriend should have been able to see how donating sperm to a lesbian couple would impact you and that you had a right to be involved in making this decision. The fact that he didn't involve you, and still doesn't think he needed to, should make you think twice about marrying him.

And finally, QAGM, a question: When you say you had an "immediate, visceral, physical reaction," does that mean you threw a punch? If you did, a word—or an initialism—to your boyfriend, if he's reading this: DTMFA.

A few months before I graduated, a friend revealed that she had been lusting after me for as long as she'd known me, and wanted to hook up. The trouble was that she's in a long-term relationship. She didn't see this as a problem—she was willing to cheat—but I didn't want to be a part of that, and turned her down. She then played some silly games and convinced me to kiss her when I was drunk, and later flat-out propositioned me (again while I was drunk), and I refused again. Then we graduated and moved hundreds of miles away from each other, which I expected would be the end of it.

Now, though, a month later, she wrote to tell me that she's "not over" me. Was I right to turn her down, or should I, as she argued, let her make her own mistakes? Should I let her boyfriend (and likely fiancé) know about any of this?

-Not An Adultery Helper

Can we please—all of us—resist the urge to define adultery down? To commit adultery, a person has to be married, not just dating or going steady or even engaged. This girl, if you fuck her, may be a lying, cheating sack of shit, and you may be a cad, but she won't be an adulteress, NAAH. She can't be one until after she's married.

Now clearly you want to sleep with this woman—why write to me otherwise?—and you're probably hoping I'll say that you were wrong to turn her down. But were you? Well, that depends on why she's pursuing you, NAAH. Perhaps she wants to cheat before she marries—before sleeping with someone else rises to the level of adultery—because she wants to live a little first. Perhaps she wants to make sure before marriage that the sex she's getting from the boyfriend is as good or better than sex she'd get elsewhere. Or perhaps she wants to fuck you because she's a skanky, skanky whore. Perhaps you should ask her.

One final thought: If sleeping with you convinces this woman that she could never truly be satisfied with her boyfriend and she ends that relationship before she marries him, you will not only have gotten into the pants of a woman you find attractive, NAAH, but done your bit to bring down our divorce rates.

In your most recent column, you wrote, "The Scouts are famously antigay and antiatheist." While I believe this is true for the Scouting organization, I have to take issue with the idea that Scouts themselves are antigay and antiatheist.

I was a Boy Scout. In fact, I am an Eagle Scout. But this is not exclusive of the fact that I am also gay (and am pretty much unreligious). But I was not "out" until last fall, my first year of college, after I was finished with the Scouts (and high school and living at home). Sadly, I'm pretty sure that the title of Eagle Scout would be taken away if the BSA organization knew that I was gay. So if you publish this, please don't use my name or identifying info.

-Anonymous Eagle Scout

Thanks for writing, AES, and I apologize for not being clearer in that response: It is the Boy Scouts of America that is antigay and antiatheist. There are a lot of individual Scouts and Scout leaders out there—I'm hearing from them—who reject and denounce the BSA's antigay, antiatheist positions. It's too bad the BSA isn't hearing from them, too.

You know Zombie Nation. Whether or not you care about the tidal shift in dance music towards darker and deadlier, whether you give a shit about Berlin or minimal, you know Zombie Nation. That's because his track, "Kernkraft 400," is one of the most recognizable stadium anthems of the last 25 years—played in countless arenas and compiled on Jock Jams one through 4,233. "That song ... I should write a book about it one day," he writes via email from Germany. "But I'd rather concentrate on doing good music."

The anthem still sells each time it's played in the stadium, and has allowed Zombie Nation (neé Florian Senfter) to try all sorts of experiments with his music. For one, he's also a character named John Starlight ("He was part-time retired") and for two, one half of the ear-shredding duo ZZT with Montreal's Tiga ("a new ZZT Release with Tiga is also planned," he writes much to my glee). "You can't see 'Kernkraft 400' in context to my work. I haven´t made a recording that was commercially successful."

Perhaps, but Senfter has the adoration of the best DJs in the world, and gets mad props in playlists from LA to Ibiza. The latest full-length, Black Toys, is a deadly mix of listenable techno and dancefloor bass. "I admit: Zombie music is full fat-high carbs—the real thing," he writes. "But like in any good meal it also comes with a sweet desert, with cream on top. Who wouldn´t prefer that to a light meal?" Yum.

ZOMBIE NATION

W/ BALTIMORODER AND

CHRIS DEVLIN

WEDNESDAY 7.02.08

MILKY WAY

403-405 CENTRE ST., JAMAICA PLAIN

617.524.3740.

9PM/21+/$10

MILKYWAYJP.COM

MYSPACE.COM/ZOMBIENATION1

The Harvard Film Archive launches a retrospective on the work of Marxist documentarian Emile de Antonio this week, screening the range of his repertoire of critical views of American politics during the '50s, '60s and '70s. The films range from the famed Point of Order (on the 1954 McCarthy hearings) to the controversial Milhouse (an indictment of Nixon's presidency), to In the Year of the Pig (a meticulous left-wing look at the Vietnam War).

In the Year of the Pig traces the war's roots in French colonialism, to the Vietnamese Civil War after the Geneva Conference (that divided the country into North and South), to an American-led war on terror ... oh, I mean, Communism. It also provides a brief biographical look into the life of Ho Chi Minh, a critical discussion of the US backing Ngo Dinh Diem (then backing off after he proved less than democratic), and a look at American search and destroy missions. Packing so much into 103 minutes is a daunting task, and it sometimes leads to abridged history (the peace movement is reduced to a quick interview with a Green Beret deserter). Everything is rendered in miniature, but seeing how all the pieces connect, the film gives the viewer a more comprehensive understanding of the whole. It skillfully weaves newsreel footage, television reports and de Antonio's own interviews with French intellectuals and American politicians (read: white dudes). It has brief moments of self-consciousness—trippy manipulations of sound and footage in its opening and an interview that deliberately begins with the slate slapping.

This long view of the Vietnam War smacks painfully familiar, with its roots in colonialism, a foreign power negotiating between and fighting various factions, aggression on false pretenses, prison camps, guerilla warfare, civilian casualties and an uncertain end. One can only imagine what other films in the retrospective—like America Is Hard to See, about the tumult of the 1968 presidential election—could teach us about contemporary politics.

IN THE YEAR OF THE PIG

RATED | NR

OPENS | 6.27.08 AT THE HARVARD FILM ARCHIVE, 7PM/$6-$8

PART OF EMILE DE ANTONIO'S AMERICAFRIDAY 6.27.08-MONDAY 6.30.08

HARVARD FILM ARCHIVE

CARPENTER CENTER

24 QUINCY ST.

HARVARD SQ., CAMBRIDGE

617.495.4700

FOR SHOWTIMES VISIT HCL.HARVARD.EDU/HFA

If you were to remove every implausible moment from Wanted you would be left staring at a white screen. Implausibility is the realm this film lives in, and in order to enjoy it on any level you must believe in setups like this: A normal human runs through the picture window of a skyscraper, flies through the air while firing his weapons and lands on a building hundreds of yards away, unscathed. For me, accepting this was like trying to breathe underwater.

In Wanted, the ability to do these type of things is hereditary. If your dad could dance around on speeding trains, shoot bullets around corners and drive over police roadblocks, then, just like that, you can too. It's all in the genes.

Wanted has no trouble reaching its visual goals of making the impossible look plausible, but as a piece of filmmaking it is wanting. Protagonist Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy) narrates the opening, explaining to us that he is the world's worst loser. As if we might argue, he illustrates the point with sophomoric, heavy-handed humor as we see his mundane travails at work with an overweight boss (in a scene that's like a John Waters'-directed episode of The Office). His inexplicably hot girlfriend is also inexplicably getting banged by his asshole best friend. From there, with the speed of a preview trailer the kid meets a sexy assassin subtly named Fox (Angelina Jolie) who proceeds to blast apart a convenience store to save him from a man she tells him killed his father.

The shoot-'em-up continues out on the city streets (and pretty much throughout the rest of the film). Wesley instantly transforms into a great stunt driver, negotiating a high-speed chase as Fox hangs out the window and fires at the guy. They escape hordes of police, and Wesley ends up at the fraternity of assassins' hideout, of which Fox is a member. The group's leader, Sloan (Morgan Freeman), tells the kid, who apparently has never handled a gun, that if he really concentrates he is capable of shooting the wings off a fly. Sure, no problem. Soon Wesley, aided by a $3 million balance that magically appears in his bank account, quits his job and after a training montage or two becomes a full-fledged super assassin, setting off to kill the man that done him wrong. Things get increasingly less believable from then on, if that's even possible.

Wanted began life as a graphic novel, and while it's certainly fun to watch one-dimensional characters do incredible, fantastic things, I believe movies should be held to a higher standard of realism. It isn't easy to turn a character on a flat screen into a multifaceted person you can actually care about. It involves nuanced attention to detail and the sort of intangibles that can't be programmed into a computer. McAvoy proved to be a presence of some depth in Atonement and Jolie certainly has more to offer than action heroics, but their acting abilities are of little concern to Russian director Timur Bekmambetov, who is focused more on the important mission of blowing lots of things up, crashing cars and trains and shooting people. The rote script by veterans Michael Brandt and Derek Haas (3:10 to Yuma) is of little help, although they do attempt self-deprecation at some junctures. Sometimes it's successful, other times embarrassing.

We are witnessing a new phase in cinema, based on the premise that if a film can create a visual universe that fools our eyes into believing the impossible, then no other proof is required. So far the general result of this development has been a spate of high-tech subpar B films like Jumper, The Fantastic Four series and The Incredible Hulk, all with thin stories and a flimsy human element. Wanted is a worst case scenario.

WANTED

RATED | R

OPENS | 6.27.08

Times New Viking guitarist Jared Phillips is complaining that there is literally nothing outside their tour van window. "There's really nothing. I tried to buy some socks. I can't find anyplace out here to buy socks." That socks is a problem for someone like Phillips is interesting, given that Times New Viking's music suggests images of reckless youth running barefoot in the streets.

One part pop-music classicism and one equal part DIY static, Times New Viking has been credited with reorienting underground rock away from the dance punk and self-indulgent freak folk that has dominated to a rawer, more immediate sound. Since forming in Columbus, Ohio in 2005 and especially after the release of their first record for Matador (this year's excellent Rip It Off), everyone—from kids who still make photocopied 'zines to MTV—has tried to crown Times New Viking the saviors of indie rock.

Phillips isn't having any of it. "A lot of other bands may be doing something similar," he says. "But you know, for whatever reason we've been deemed the representatives of this gnarly-sounding pop music, which is kind of ridiculous." A recent run-in with MTV at this year's South by Southwest Festival, where the band was asked to wax poetic on the reemergence of the lo-fi aesthetic in indie (or "indie primitive"), seems to illustrate the ridiculous nature that notoriety has brought for the band. "I couldn't stand to watch it," Phillips says.... "I just remember thinking that it was kind of funny seeing that MTV microphone with the little label on it, just thinking, 'This is hilarious!'"

TIMES NEW VIKING

W/ HALLELUJAH THE HILLS

AND TITUS ANDRONICUS

SUNDAY 6.29.08

GREAT SCOTT

1222 COMM. AVE., ALLSTON

617.566.9014.

9PM/18+/$10

GREATSCOTTBOSTON.COM

MYSPACE.COM/TIMESNEWVIKING

If you're expecting to go to The Promotion to see a moronic, perverted Stifler, think again. In his latest role, Seann William Scott stars as Doug Stauber, assistant manager of a Chicago supermarket, who's trying to get his married life together. Doug is sure he's a "shoe-in" for the position of manager at the newest supermarket location until some competition arrives in the form of John C. Reilly. Reilly plays Richard, a recovering drug addict from Canada, who soon walks the line between rival and friend to Doug.

Despite having a plot that could easily have been made into a television sitcom, The Promotion has more heart than anything I've seen this year. For a man who wrote such painfully motivational films as The Pursuit of Happyness and The Weather Man, this role as writer/director puts Steve Conrad on the map as a filmmaker with potential. Maybe he just lucked out by scoring a cast full of smart, funny people, including Fred Armisen, Jenna Fischer and Lili Taylor. Or maybe he finally wrote a screenplay worthy of acclaim. Either way, the subtle humor and acting make this film.

Reilly is hilarious as usual, but I was most impressed (and a little surprised) by Scott's performance. Scott creates a likable guy who's just trying to move up the ranks in a job he only sort-of loves. He's quirky yet charming and doesn't overact as he has in the past. The chemistry between him and Reilly works well, and we somehow fall in love with both characters as they compete for the same job. You never quite know who to root for. Let's hope the days of Stifler are behind him, because this movie is sure to get Scott promoted to the job of legitimate actor.

THE PROMOTION

RATED | R

NOW SHOWING | KENDALL SQ. CINEMA

Very rarely does a book take over my life in such a way that everything else—meals, sleep, cocktails—seem to get in the way of my reading it. Even more rare is the case when said book is an epic poem. I mean, I liked The Odyssey, but I'm pretty sure I never skipped breakfast over it. In short, Sharp Teeth, the first book from advertising exec/author Toby Barlow, is an epic poem about werewolves, but in actuality it's a literary noir thriller written in free verse that's packed full of downright dazzling language. Mr. Barlow was kind enough to answer some questions via email.

Do you feel differently toward dogs now? I do.

When I was about halfway through the book I started looking at dogs differently. Or rather, I began to feel like they were looking at me differently. That was more than a little disconcerting.

So you're in advertising. What's your response to the critique that this book is something of a gimmick?

I have come across that critique here and there and every time I see it I think, you know, if you came to me and asked my advice—as an ad man—on how to write a blockbuster best seller, I probably wouldn't recommend using a format that went out of style a thousand years before the birth of Christ. It really isn't all that savvy a move.

So then why bother?

I chose the style because it was exciting to write, like I was running and leaping around inside some strange, dark graphic novel. It definitely opened up doors for me; you can do stuff with verse that you can't do with prose. People are more forgiving because it's that "crazy poetry thing," whereas in prose you have to methodically inch your way everywhere you go.

Do you think epic poetry is making a comeback?

I hope some form of the written word makes a comeback. Books are trying to fight for attention against other books, when in fact books are battling all media: It's Sharp Teeth vs. Sex in the City vs. 30 Rock vs. Halo 3, and honestly, right now, books are losing. So I would hope people would keep trying to innovate and play with the language and just keep it engaging. In the end, I think books provide a deeper reward than all those other media, but maybe we have to make it a bit more fun.

The book will soon be another media. How do you feel about selling the film rights?

Well, this is the first poem about pets to be optioned since T.S. Eliot's widow sold the rights to Cats, so that's sort of exciting. I'm not sure it's filmable, but I've sort of washed my hands of it. I dreamt the book already—it's someone else's demon to dream now.

Does that mean you're not quitting your day job?

If a billion people went crazy for werewolf epic poetry, I would quit my job and go all J.D. Salinger. But that doesn't appear to be happening. Maybe when they make it into a Broadway musical.

TOBY BARLOW

THURSDAY 6.26.08

BROOKLINE BOOKSMITH

279 HARVARD ST., COOLIDGE CORNER

BROOKLINE

617.566.6660

7PM/FREE

BROOKLINEBOOKSMITH.COM

SHARPTEETHTHEBOOK.COM

EKSI EKSO | I AM YOUR BASTARD WINGS

Forming from two other bands (On Fire and the Burning Paris), this sextet's album is all moody strings ("O, God They've Frozen"), atmospheric loops and vocals. Everything about them, from their name (phonetic Greek for "six" and "outside") to their complex chamber section melodies is unconventional in the best sense of the word. eksiekso.com

ADAM MICHAEL ROTHBERG | ANOTHER SPIN

He's toured with Joan Baez, produced Dar Williams and performed with the best of the local folk scene, but now it's Rothberg's turn to step out of the folk shadows, and the result, Another Spin, is lyrical poetry and multi-instrumental duty. (He plays the guitar, piano, udu, mandolin, percussion and the Turkish oud!) adamr.net

How long have you been at the beer festival?

Ben: All day. We went last night, too.

What was the beer you remember?

B: The Dogfish Head IPA, three years aged in whiskey barrels. It was strong.

Kyle: The one I remember most is the Ommegang Ommeggeddon.

...We're not talking about 3-percent beer.

B: No, some of them are as high as 18 percent. It gets up there. It's about the quality, they don't hold back when it comes to that, and the alcohol content just comes along with it.

Are you related to one of these companies?

K: A friend of mine works at the John Harvard Brewing Company in Framingham. We all go to BeerAdvocate.com. Beer is where it's at right now. We're big on home brewing.

What's your favorite local brew?

B: The Wonder Bass Brewing Company out of Worcester, Mass!

K: The elusive Wonder Bass!

B: myspace.com/wonderbassbrewingco!

What about wine?

K: We're not that big on wine.

So you're from the Netherlands ... Oh boy, wow. What happened?

Marloes: What didn't happen? We didn't make any goals, so. I think they had too strong of a defense.

Petra: We met a wall, The Russian Wall.

M: The Russians have a Dutch coach.

P: He's the same coach who took the Koreans to the quarterfinals in the world championships, so this is the same thing.

So you're on vacation to Boston, New York and DC. What city do you like better?

[laughing]

What's so funny?

M: We just got here.

With your euros, you must be just going crazy.

M: Of course, it's why we're here! It's like half the money!

We have good beer here, you have good beer.

M: Our beer is better. You drink our beer.

Thank you for your beer ... Sorry about your loss, there's always next year?

M: No there's not.

I guess there's not.

Max [interrupting]: What do you think about Turkey though?

P: I think they're not in Europe. Aren't they in the Middle East or something?