The first book in Collins' three-part series

It seems like almost every year, there’s a novel geared toward young adults that hits the “grown-up,” mainstream sector of literature and starts selling like crazy. Critical accolades (and groans) quickly emerge, controversial opinions fly, and movie deals are signed. So has been the case with the Harry Potter epic, the Twlight catastrophes, and, perhaps less so, Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. This year, the Young Adult series to reach that success is The Hunger Games, a dystopian trilogy by Suzanne Collins. It’s an addicting, literally-can’t-put-it-down piece of pop fiction.

In the story, the nation of Panem occupies the land formerly held by the United States, which by now has been ravaged by natural disaster and war that’s too unimportant in this alternative world to merit much discussion. Panem was once divided into 13 districts and centrally organized around the Capitol, the wealthiest sector of Panem. The districts banded together and tried to revolt against the Capitol, but the districts were defeated, and District 13 was entirely decimated. As retribution, each of the remaining twelve districts must send one boy and one girl every year to compete in the Hunger Games, a televised competition that’s basically a fight to the death. For one of the “tributes,” winning means riches and fame. But to win, they have to outlast all 23 of the other tributes. It’s like a fucked-up, way-too-serious edition of Survivor. Oh, and by the way, all of the tributes are in the 12-18 age range. Not age-inappropriate at all.

The Games are controlled by the Gamemakers, who throw the contestants curveball after curveball whenever they feel like the action’s not entertaining enough for the viewing public—which shouldn’t matter, really, since a lot of the Games are required, mandated viewing for the citizens of Panem. The mysterious Gamemakers (who, apparently, we learn more about in the sequels, Catching Fire and Mockingjay) control every aspect of the Arena, catalyzing the competitors into action and making things more difficult when the tributes finally get their bearings.

Collins’ work has been criticized for too closely resembling some other books, and others have fought over whether this is teen lit focusing on a contrived love triangle or a serious, political thriller with substance. But this piece isn’t about whether or not The Hunger Games is good (although, of course, it is).

Rather, I was struck by just how violent the book was—which was probably an idiotic thing to be surprised by, given that it’s about a no-holds-barred death match. Nearly half of the kids are killed off in the first few minutes of the Games in a hand-to-hand fight for supplies. A young girl is staked through the heart and left to die. And one tribute is slowly eaten alive by mutant wolves. This is not your average Avada Kedavra, no-blood-in-sight bullshit.

And yet, the violence in this story is crucial to one of its key purposes: that a totalitarian government allowed to rule with ultimate power can manipulate its citizens into doing anything. The Panem people must compete in the Games, and the 24 tributes chosen must kill in order to save their own lives. By airing it as a reality show, the viewers are distanced from the horrors that are actually taking place, and the violence becomes second-nature, understood as something that they should support, that is the answer to many of the world’s problems. The Hunger Games unite the country, after all, like a bloodier, more nationalistic version of the Olympics. There’s much hub-bub over the opening ceremonies and closing ceremonies, and the whole thing is very pageant-like, with the tributes and districts putting their best face forward.

The Games, therefore, are a microcosm of the Capitol’s relationship with its people. The Gamemakers, analogous to Panem’s president and government, can control the tributes and turn their world upside down, just as the the government can clearly control the population of the districts, who submit to the commands. The government decides what is permissible, what is not, and what the appropriate punishments are for each transgression, with no consideration afforded for public opinion. I’m fascinated to learn more about Panem’s history and see if Collins ever gives more details about what happened when the 13 districts rebelled, and why they couldn’t overtake the Capitol. Until then, I view the book, especially the victor’s last action in the Games, which is basically a big “fuck you!” to the Capitol, as a message that people should stand up to a corrupt government when they fundamentally disagree, regardless of history, wealth, and how significantly the odds are stacked against you.

Not that any of that will matter to the MPAA when the book is converted to a movie (shooting starts this Spring). I don’t know how the hell the filmmakers are going to get off with a PG-13 rating, or if they really should even try. The violence in this story may be too essential to excise for the sake of the censors.

Leno's bill was introduced on December 13 in Sacramento, Calif.

In middle school and grade school, our history classes spend a lot of time discussing the injustices that people faced and how they banded together, revolted and helped to create a more equal, less oppressive society. We learn about the American Revolution, where we broke away from the British and fought for liberty. We learn about the abolishment of slavery and the Civil Rights movement that gave black citizens the right to vote. We learned about the struggle for Women’s Suffrage.

But what about the LGBT rights movement? Did you learn about that in your high school history class?

That’s what a Californian Senator, Mark Leno, is aiming for with the introduction of his new bill, the Fair, Accurate, Inclusive and Respectful Education Act., into the state legislature The bill, co-sponsored and –written by Equality California and the Gay-Straight Alliance Network, would ensure that textbooks and history classes fairly and accurately communicate information about LGBT people and their role in history. Similar legislation passed both houses of the state legislature in 2006, but it died after a veto by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger.

In a press release, Leno said, “Most textbooks don’t include any historical information about the LGBT movement, which has great significance to both California and U.S. history. Our collective silence on this issue perpetuates negative stereotypes of LGBT people and leads to increased bullying of young people. We can’t simultaneously tell youth that it’s OK to be yourself and live an honest, open life when we aren’t even teaching students about historical LGBT figures or the LGBT equal rights movement.”

The bill has been criticized as pushing a “pro-gay agenda,” largely by right-wing pundits, including, expectantly, Fox News, whose Tucker Carlson said, “You don’t need to be anti-gay to be against this … There are two problems with this: one, it’s propaganda, and two, it’s blackmail. …There isn’t social science that demonstrates that teaching children about the glories of the gay rights movement will reduce bullying. That’s not the purpose of school. The purpose of school is to educate children, and this not only differs from that aim, it gets in the way of it.”

I fully support the bill’s message: LGBT people are a part of history, so why do so few instructional materials reflect their presence? When students learn about the Red Scare, they should also learn about the similarly-extreme Lavender Scare, which targeted homosexual citizens as threats to national security, causing many to lose their jobs and prompting some to commit suicide. Lessons about Harvey Milk, same-sex marriage struggles and other developments of the sexual equality movement should also be considered.

However, I think the approach that Leno and other advocates are taking is the wrong way to pitch the FAIR Education Act. Leno’s press release and Internet commentators are discussing the bill as if it is the role of textbooks to advocate for an end to bullying. That isn’t the argument that should accompany this bill.

Rather, we should be arguing that history is supposed to be an objective look at what has happened in our country, and as most textbooks stand now, they are skirting over crucial elements of history—namely, almost everything that has to do with LGBT people. Textbook writers should not be mandated to portray gay people in a positive way. But they should be mandated to tell the truth and disseminate facts. This includes informing grade school students about the gay rights movement, not treating it like it doesn’t deserve a place right next to America’s other historical fights against oppression.

This piece was cross-posted at the BuzzBlog for Buzzsaw magazine, for which Adam serves as a section editor.

Check out the full timeline at Buzzsaw magazine!

By now, I’m sure, you’ve heard about the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” that pesky policy in the U.S. military that bans gays and lesbians from openly discussing their sexual orientation and discharging them if they spilled the beans (or, you know, had someone report them kissing their partner in a Wal-Mart check-out aisle).

But after an incredibly long back-and-forth struggle featuring both legislative and judicial movements, the policy was repealed by the House of Representatives on Dec. 15 and by the Senate on Dec. 18. Now it just awaits President Obama’s signature, and all will be well. (Or, as Sen. John McCain put it, “Today is a very sad day. I hope that when we pass this legislation that we will understand that we are doing great damage.”)

I mean, there are a lot of steps that need to be taken now in terms of implementation and fully and appropriately reversing the 17-year-old policy. Read about those potential struggles at The Atlantic.

I absolutely applaud Congress for finally rectifying this obvious example of institutionalized homophobia, and I agree that we should celebrate. But I also think it’s essential to caution against the idea that the repeal of DADT means that the road to marriage equality and adoption by same-sex couples will be any easier. There was no religious argument against DADT—that may be part of why a gay Republican group like GOProud would be so supportive of repeal—but those religious rationales still stand; they will continue to argue that marriage is a one-man, one-woman kind of deal, and that no baby will ever be normal if it’s raised with two mommies or two daddies.

So, please, celebrate repeal of DADT!  It truly is a momentous occasion. But stay concerned, remain fired-up, and understand that the continued path to equality is not based on a “once we overturn DADT, we’ll get marriage, too” philosophy.

This post was originally published as a blog post for Buzzsaw magazine on December 19, 2010.

Remember this?

“It gets better,” Barack Obama tells all of those gay teenagers out there who have grown up hating the idea that they may be gay or lesbian because it would mean that they’d be in a position of second class citizenry. All of their lives, LGBT issues have been in the news, thoroughly discussed and dissected, with news left and right about backwards policies in the government, like Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and the Defense of Marriage Act, which insist that gay people are not the same as straight people.

Not so, Obama says in his own “It Gets Better” video, a project started by Dan Savage to combat the recent string of LGBT suicides. Obama says, “In time you’re going to see that your differences are a source of pride and a source of strength. You’ll be more likely to help fight discrimination, not just against LGBT Americans, but discrimination in all its forms… It’s so important that as adults, we set an example in our own lives, that we treat everybody with respect, that we are able to see the world through other people’s eyes and stand in their shoes.”

What example is President Obama setting by heading up an administration that stands idly by while gay rights legislation is shot down, or worse, approved by a judicial order and widely supported by the American public but then reinstated, as is the case with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell? How are those defeats doing anything to boost gay Americans’ confidence and self-worth, telling them that they are valued, equal members of the national community? Sure, the Matthew Shepard Act was passed. But there are still so many anti-gay policies in this country that it would be near impossible to list them all. There is still institutionalized homophobia and inequality.

Obama continues his charade in the video, saying, “As a nation, we’re founded on the belief that all of us are equal and each of us deserves the freedom to pursue our own version of happiness, to make the most of our talents, to speak our minds, to not fit in. And most of all, to be true to ourselves. That’s the freedom that enriches all of us. That’s what America’s all about. And every day, it gets better.”

But when you are in a position of power to make it get better for all of these kids and all of these people in your country, then why, President Obama, are you not making it get better faster?

(This entry is cross-posted at Buzzsaw magazine, for which I serve as a section editor: HERE)

I’ve always been bothered by this stereotype, unsure of where exactly it came from. How did this community become so pigeonholed as huge, slutty messes?

It turns out, according to Roger Streitmatter’s book Voices of Revolution, that the earliest LGBT trailblazers themselves are responsible for creating  the image. The first gay-focused niche publications, including Gay, Come Out! and The San Francisco Gay Free Press, relied heavily on sexual imagery to convey their message: Gay people are here, they’re queer, and they’re rebelling against your heteronormative society. The advertising, covers and other photos screamed images that conveyed this point.

I think that a large part of that is because gays and lesbians in the 1960s were so unfamiliar with seeing their own sexuality—the sexuality that they had been expressing uniquely in private for years—in any form of published media, so they reveled in that lack of censorship, perhaps overdoing the sex-crazed concepts of gay media.

What’s interesting about it all is the number of LGBT publications released that acted as dissident papers to the dissident gay press. Magazines like The Ladder disagreed with the idea of heralding a guy giving a blowjob as the face of the gay rights movement. Instead, the presented a publication that trumpeted the successes of gay community members—demonstrating, of course, that they could be functioning and contributing members of society even when out of the closet— and covered the progress of the political and social movement, demanding the government and the country to see that gay was okay and that guaranteed equality was necessary. No dicks or gratuitous nudity involved.

This entry is cross-posted with my blog for my Independent Media class: Lone Ranger Journalism.

Yes, I know this is from 2007 and that I read it in 2009. But I just decided to post this.

Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine is a long book. Aside from the arguably true allegations that her work was incredibly slanted to the left, this was the most common criticism I’ve heard from people about this 2007 instant journalism classic. Essentially, I heard many say, each chapter of Klein’s book can be boiled down to the following formula: In economically-troubled country X, maniacal, dictatorial leadership Y takes pointers from the Chicago School and Milton Friedman to exploit major nationwide crisis Z in order to benefit the rich and elite.

And while that’s an oversimplification, it really is somewhat true. But that’s what I really loved about The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. Klein slams home her point again and again and again, laboriously documenting dozens of instances where corrupt government officials implemented the shock doctrine, which benefitted the lives of these officials and high-power corporations while devastating the existences of the poor and already-disenfranchised.

She starts with an easily-digestible, albeit horrific, anecdote about Gail Kastner and Dr. Ewen Cameron in order to explain how the blank-slate theory works on a micro level. Then the examples continually widen in scope, blazing through South America by dissecting Pinochet’s Chile and moving onto the military junta’s Dirty War in Argentina.

The Argentina example was one of the most interesting to me, since when I read that section last July, the country was on my short list of study abroad locations. Klein’s documentation was my first in-depth exposure to the Dirty War, but throughout the year, I studied it several times, researching los desaparecidos for a class and writing about the implications of this critically important, alarmingly recent decimation of an entire ideological group. It proved extremely fascinating to learn more about the crisis during my semester abroad in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where the ramifications of the tragedy are still incredibly apparent in a generation that lived through the country’s dark era. d

The most unsettling facet of all of these important pieces of history that Klein throws at the reader on her conveyor belt of epic tragedies is that nearly all of them were surprises to me. I consider myself a rather informed person – certainly more so since I switched to independent media sources – but I knew so little about all of these crucially important situations, some of which occurred in my lifetime. For all I knew, The Shock Doctrine could have been a work of fiction, because it was almost unbelievable that I had never learned about these atrocities.

From Russia to China to Poland to Iraq to the United States, Klein’s analysis involves nearly every corner of the world. And this, after all, is the paradox: the shock doctrine has a dominant influence around the globe, yet very few people are aware of it.

One of the more striking examples in the latter half of the book involves Sri Lanka and the 2004 tsunami. It enraged me to read about the fishing villages that were cast aside by corporate businesses and hotels and the tourism industry looking to convert the new, deeper poverty of these fishing people into a multibillion-dollar venture for them. Sure, these people may not have been thrown alive out of helicopters into the Atlantic Ocean, but their lives were ruined because of the government’s corrupt interests, and there were so few people advocating for them. It wasn’t only a disgraceful extinguishing of culture, but also a flagrant disregard for the well-being of these people as human beings. Their lives and futures were being pushed to the side so that the government could earn money though tourism ventures.

Klein visiting Ithaca College in Spring 2010. (Photo by Allison Usavage).

Until I read The Shock Doctrine, I don’t think I really considered the definition of “capitalism,” accepting it as an economic system and not much more. But really, what the word, as well as the system’s goals and missions, seem to imply is that it is okay to take advantage of things – to “capitalize” on them, even if these things are poor people or those reeling from disaster, or those who are not given the chance to think for themselves. Not only does capitalism say that it is okay for people to do this, but the system actively encourages it, rewarding those who play the not-so-noble game and leaving behind those who can’t justify valuing money or land or power over human life.

Klein summarizes these thoughts in one of her more poignant statements, regarding Katrina: “Not so long ago, disasters were periods of social leveling, rare moments when atomized communities put divisions aside and pulled together. Increasingly, however, disasters are the opposite: they provide windows into a cruel and ruthlessly divided future in which money and race buy survival” (522).

The reason that I think Klein’s book is innovative and effective, rather than repetitive and over-explained, is that she provides irrefutable evidence that shock tactics and disaster capitalism have been employed dozens of times throughout contemporary history. It’s this ability to analyze the past and explain why it is relevant in the present that’s so important about her book. Recently, I’ve struggled with the idea that “objective journalism,” as a practice, seeks merely to report what happened, vehemently refusing to venture into future implications or what it may all mean. Klein’s masterful work demonstrates that it is possible – and significantly more important – to explore what has happened yesterday in the mindset of what is happening today and what will likely happen tomorrow.

Her conclusion details exactly how important it is to tell the stories that she devotes time to in The Shock Doctrine. If more people are exposed to and understand the patterns of “shock therapy” and “economic reform,” then there are more people to resist these processes from being implemented at all. According to Klein, history has repeated itself with these dangerous, corrupt government practices for upwards of thirty years, so really, there’s no excuse to not be able to recognize the Chicago School practices and nip them in the bud from transforming the economic landscape of a country.

This surprisingly optimistic chapter is one of the most important aspects of the book – the fact that change is possible, so long as we are aware. Klein explains, “There are just too many people in the world who have had direct experience with the shock doctrine: they know how it works, have talked to other prisoners, passed notes between the bars; the crucial element of surprise is missing” (580).

The Shock Doctrine, especially this last chapter, shows the potential impact of writing about serious social and economic issues. Injustices will continue to occur, people will continue to be marginalized, and the elite will continue to benefit from a different set of rules, but only if we are unaware. Change can only occur (or, in some instances, resistance to negative change) if people are informed.

It seems that Klein’s book and the publicity associated with it has already made significant impact. In early 2010, she said that while she had seen the first stages of disaster capitalism beginning in Haiti, there is clear and forceful resistance that’s already shot down more than a few dramatic attempts to take advantage of the country’s tragedy. With excellent journalists like Klein, and with better avenues to get the truth out about the history and the present, perhaps that resistance will grow ever more clear and ever more forceful.

See? More than two ways IS possible.

Every morning, Carson Criniti is startled awake by a blaring alarm, and, like most 18-year-old students, presses the snooze button before finally waking up. He takes a shower, brushes his teeth, slips on a white beater shirt and pulls over his head a stark white, unforgivingly stiff tank top that flattens his chest, concealing his distinctly feminine body.

The plastic binding is uncomfortable, firmly pressing Carson’s breasts against his chest. But he is willing to deal with discomfort from morning until night so others will not notice his breasts. “I’ve always been disconnected from them,” he says, careful not to validate them with a name. “If I push on my chest, I feel like I can’t touch it—like it’s farther down. I feel like there are two tumors blocking it. That’s really what I consider them: tumors. They don’t feel like part of my body…they’re there abnormally.”

Carson’s breasts are a daily reminder for him that he is biologically female, although for the past year, he has been leading his life as a man.

He didn’t always identify as a transgendered person; with limited exposure to information about sexuality, Carson—at the time, his name was Cassandra—initially came out as gay in tenth grade. Still, Carson never fit the female gender stereotypes and always felt unhappy about his body. He saw a therapist to work through this confused depression, and after extensively researching the topic, realized he was transgendered. That is, he was sexually attracted to women but mentally felt he was a man. Today he is a freshman at Montgomery County Community College, but he began publicly identifying as a heterosexual, transgendered male midway through his senior year at Perkiomen Valley High School.

“Transgender” is a blanket term for any individual whose gender expression does not align with traditional expectations of the biological sex they were assigned at birth. This includes female-to-male (FTM) and male-to-female (MTF) transsexuals, cross-dressers and “gender queer” individuals. The size of the transgendered population in America has been an issue of great dispute; the American Psychiatric Association (APA) has estimated that one in 30,000 males and one in 100,000 females undergo surgery, although highly-revered experts like Dr. Lynn Conway say those numbers underestimate the prevalence by a factor of 100.

Most FTM transsexuals like Carson follow loosely similar steps on their way to becoming male. After identifying as trans, they generally seek to make their physical traits more masculine by wearing male clothes or deepening the voice. The goal is to “pass”—to attempt to live as a male without question from strangers.

To pursue the next step, contra-hormone therapy, trans adults must either live full-time as their desired gender or undergo psychotherapy for three months. These policies are outlined by the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association’s Standards of Care, the guidelines for all medical or psychological treatments of transgendered individuals. The standards dictate that one or both options are essential to transitioning, explaining, “Since changing one’s gender role has immediate personal and social consequences, the decision to do so should be preceded by an awareness of what these consequences are likely to be.” The goal is to confirm the person is actually experiencing gender dysphoria or gender identity disorder, which are currently the terms used for transgenderism by the APA’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

FTMs may then begin taking hormone treatments. Carson self-administers intramuscular testosterone injections every week. He says, “The hormones turn you into a biological guy – you grow facial hair, your vocal chords thicken and loosen, your muscles get denser, your bones grow. It’s like going through puberty.”

Carson receives the treatment through Dr. Christine McGinn at the Papillon Gender Wellness Center in New Hope, Penn. McGinn’s office handles every aspect of trans health issues and is the leading provider of these services in the Greater Philadelphia area.

The next step for FTMs, if they choose to be operated on, is surgery. “Top surgery” involves a double mastectomy, or the removal of both breasts and contouring of the chest to resemble that of a male. More difficult and less common is “bottom surgery,” the most typical being metoidioplasty, where the urethra is rerouted through the clitoris, which becomes larger after the testosterone treatments, to allow standing urination.

Right now Carson is saving up for top surgery. But, already saddled with the $120 prescription for his hormones, which must be replenished every five weeks, the surgery’s $6,800 price tag (the Papillon Center’s cost for the surgery) won’t be easy to finance. A metoidioplasty would cost an additional $4,300.

The financial hurdles that Carson must now grapple with in order to fully live as a man represent one of the biggest issues facing transgendered people in America: insurance companies’ refusal to cover trans health services.

According to Dr. McGinn, less than five percent of the patients treated in her offices are covered by insurance, and even then, companies grimace while writing the checks. “It’s really flat-out discrimination,” she says. “Gender identity disorder is a legitimate condition. There are treatments that are 99 percent effective, and we know that without treatment, there are grave consequences – the suicide rate is 25 percent or higher. And yet, even knowing all of that information, the insurance companies are not willing to pay.”

Recent resolutions by the American Medical Association and the APA have deemed these trans health services as “medically-necessary treatments,” but insurance companies remain combative, asserting that treatments designed to alter a person’s appearance are not covered, unless they correct a physical defect. If gender reassignment surgeries are covered, the companies reason, must they also cover other women’s cosmetic breast augmentations?

It appears that the root of the commonplace transphobia in the U.S. lies in widespread misconceptions about the distinction between gender and sexuality, which are particularly difficult in America because of classic gender roles ingrained in society. According to mainstream society, a person is male if born with a penis and female if born with reproductive organs, and those biological organs correspond to specific societal expectations of one’s masculinity or femininity. Trans advocates argue that’s not always the case, and that sometimes a person’s physical body parts don’t align with their mental identification of gender.

That’s a difficult message to convey to the public, most of whom have little experience with gender issues. Still, the trans community has enjoyed several recent victories.

On a micro level, the administration at PVHS worked to make Carson’s gender transition easier during his senior year. His teachers explained the situation to their classrooms, Carson was allowed access to the nurse’s bathroom, and although his diploma reads “Cassandra Criniti,” he was allowed to wear a brown robe (as opposed to the white that female students wore) at his graduation in 2009.

Nationally, trans issues have been popping up far more frequently. In addition to Amanda Simpson making history in January by becoming the first transgender presidential appointee ever, February saw a major legislative win for transgendered people. On Feb. 6, the U.S. Tax Court ruled that medical expenses related to trans health and surgery are now tax-deductible, the first step in legislatively gaining evidence that these procedures are medically warranted.

Developments like this, Dr. McGinn says, “are setting a precedent in the field.” She sighs, “Slowly, change is happening, but it’s going at a snail’s pace. People don’t realize that [being transgendered] is not a disorder. The disorder is with society—that they have to be so binary in their thinking about gender.”

This piece was originally published in The Voice, Perkiomen Valley High School’s newspaper, with Adam Polaski contributing as a guest writer. The mission was to educate young high school students about transgenderism, a rarely-discussed topic that is difficult to understand.

Audrey Wasilewski in "Mad Men"

That’s what happened with some of my favorite actors today. It happened with Rachel McAdams, who was a breakout, relatively unknown when she opened Mean Girls and The Notebook. She quickly skyrocketed to leading woman status, and even when she’s starring in something as shitty as The Time-Traveler’s Wife or Sherlock Holmes, she shines. Amanda Seyfried made a slower rise to the top, who toiled away in daytime soaps before gaining a little attention as dead girls in Alpha Dog and Veronica Mars and a dumb girl in Mean Girls. Now, she’s headlining movies, including the upcoming Letters to Juliet and Dear John, and probably making mad bank. Sometimes not being able to spell “orange” right pays off, apparently.

So what happens to the actors and actresses who steal scenes but never achieve true household fame? You know, those people you see on TV, and you recognize them, but there’s no way in hell you’d be able to put a name to a face.

Take, for example, Krysten Ritter. That name probably means nothing to you…but you’ve more than likely seen her. She’s Isla Fisher’s best friend in Confessions of a Shopaholic, the annoying rich-girl-next-door in Veronica Mars, Rory’s eight-episode-arc-Yale-friend in Gilmore Girls, and Lily’s sister in that Gossip Girl intended spin-off we saw in May. She’s your typical girl sidekick, but she does it fantastically, and I think she has the moxie to headline her own project. She’s quick, hardly as bothersome as you’d think, and unique. And that’s probably why she’ll never be the pretty movie poster face.

Kyle Gallner of "Veronica Mars" and "Big Love"

The same goes for Kyle Gallner. He’s offbeat cute and an instant charmer in fare as varied as Big Love, Veronica Mars and Jennifer’s Body. Always the best friend, never the lead, but I’d watch him in nearly anything.

And probably my biggest inspiration for thinking about this is Audrey Wasilewski, the redhead who always seems to be cast as the dumpy neighbor or, in the case of Mad Men, the dumpy sister. She’s totally compelling and a great find, but she has a face that makes it seem like she’s been famous in the biz for a long time. She was excellent in Big Love, but beyond these two classy shows, not too many other Hollywood players give her a shot.

What gives, not rewarding talent when it’s clearly there? And who else should be added to the list?

Disclaimer: Yes, I realize that three of the five actors I orgasmed over above appeared on Veronica Mars, and a different set of three were in Big Love. What can I say…I guess those guys over there just know what a good cast looks like.

Thus, by this point, it’s probably redundant to tell you that Up in the Air is good; you’ve heard that from everyone and their mother. What you may not understand is how enjoyably accessible the film is. While many movies deemed “Academy-worthy” seem to be long, intentionally boring and hardly stimulating to that part of your brain that likes actual entertainment, Jason Reitman’s new film defies the mold and provides for you something to feel good about liking.

It’s funny, it’s smart, it’s appropriately moody, and it deals with a timely topic. The film tells the story of Ryan Bingham, a guy whose gets hired as a contractor to break the news to employees from companies throughout the country that they have been fired. It’s a tough gig, but someone has to do it, and Bingham, played by George Clooney in a perfectly effortless performance, revels in the opportunities that the position allows him. He only has to spend about 50 days at home, in an apartment where he has no social connections and few material possessions, devoting the other 300 or so days to air travel, flying from city to city and racking up the frequent flyer miles on his firing escapades.

That’s all well and good, until two women force him to confront his own emotions and make an introspective reevaluation of his life. The first is Natalie Keener, the feisty young woman newly hired at Bingham’s company, who travels with Bingham to learn the ropes. The second is Alex Goran, the Bingham-with-a-pussy who he falls for.

Clooney may be the star, but Anna Kendrick and Vera Farmiga bear equal responsibility for the film’s success in their extremely strong supporting roles as Natalie and Alex, respectively. Farmiga is a wonderful presence on film, and her compatibility with Clooney, while still maintaining a portrait of the classic independent woman, is part of what makes the movie work seamlessly. Kendrick, on the other hand, takes what could have been, in lesser hands, an annoying, stereotypically pretentious type A bitch and turns the character into a loveable, relatable woman who just wants her life plan to pan out. In one of the most startlingly relatable lines, which Kendrick delivers flawlessly, Natalie says something to the effect of, “No matter how much professional success I have, I feel like none of it will matter until I find the right guy…” Like, actually, too real.

I’ve seen a lot of movies in these past two weeks, and Up in the Air was hands-down the most enjoyable. It’s neither a tiny art house piece that only dumb movie critics will like, a blow-‘em-up action thriller or a guffawing laffer, but the genre between comedy and drama that director and writer Jason Reitman has managed to fine-tune with his three winning films Juno, Thank You for Smoking, and now this (not to mention two great episodes of The Office) is incredible. If you’re going to see only one Oscar contender this year, make it this one.

Good Advocate.

Good Advocate.

Bad Advocate.

A few days ago, I was browsing through the online version of The Advocate, the authority on all news related to LGBT rights and issues. I write a disproportionate amount about these topics, and I’d used the Web site in the past to do basic research on sexual orientation-inclusive hate crime legislation, marriage equality, and the FDA’s ban on gay blood.

The home page story was “Top 5 Music Videos of the Year,” featuring a photo of Lady GaGa’s creepy claw-handed monster in “Bad Romance.” Other winners were Rihanna’s “Russian Roulette” and Owl City’s “Fireflies.” The story was exclusively about the videos, with absolutely no reference to anything LGBT-oriented.

Then why the hell is this the leading story on the Web site for the publication that touts itself as one that “sets the standards of LGBT journalism”?

It’s not just this one story. The Advocate regularly covers tabloidy, gossipy “news” stories about Johnny Depp, Jake Gyllenhaal, Cher, Britney Spears and other celebrities with a large queer following. One story from this week was even headlined “Palin Sues Johnston for Custody,” about supposed gay eye candy Levi Johnston.

Sometimes The Advocate stretches to make a popular mainstream news story relevant to the LGBT community. Yes, Jane Lynch is an out lesbian, but that doesn’t mean that her new guest role voicing a character and getting animated in The Cleveland Show has anything to do with gay rights; it’s nothing new for gays to be featured in cartoons…just ask Stewie on Family Guy. So yes, Advocate staff, you’re perfectly allowed to feature the first-ever gay sex scene on daytime TV because that shit is actually ground-breaking. But “Bad Romance,” “Fireflies” and The Cleveland Show didn’t do anything for the gays.

The Advocate continues to lowball itself and its target audience by diluting its very strong, well-written and –researched news content with crap about stereotypically orgaysm-inducing celebrities. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to read about Britney’s latest photo shoot when I’m actually just looking for the latest updates on news that’s actually important.

The Advocate should understand that it’s an authority on gay issues that really matter, and that unless they want to risk having their otherwise-excellent news coverage tainted, they should stop selling out and leave the tabloid fodder to Perez Hilton or sister magazine Out, which is specifically designed for “Fashion, Style, Celebrity [and] Opinion for the Gay Man.” Imagine that: sticking to your mission statement.