Every morning before I go to work, I flip between three TV channels while having breakfast: CNN Headline News, MTV and VH1. This morning, I tuned to Robin and Company (even though I harbor a secret loathing for the astronomically annoying Robin Meade) to find out more about the weather. Meade covered a brief segment on a craft shop in New York City called Knit New York in which Friday nights are reserved for men who knit to socialize and drink. As a new knitter, I found this terribly interesting. Apparently, Robin and her Company of buffoons found this hilarious. Her segment even began with (and I’m paraphrasing here): “Usually, guys night out involves sports and beer…”

Obviously, men who knit come from an entirely different planet; a planet that must be vaguely metrosexual or, in any case, confused about their role as a male. And this simple interest in knitting (or God forbid, crocheting) deserved a certain level of scrutiny because, specifically, these knitters had penises. Sports commentator (and major machissmo) Ray D’Alessio and meteorologist Bob Van Dillen joked among themselves about knitting each other “doilies” as gifts because you can’t possibly get any gayer than that. I’m convinced that Robin and her Company of nitwits haven’t completely made it off the preschool playground.

I began my Spring semester yesterday afternoon with the course Sinema: Sexuality in Film and Literature. My instructor is Douglas Brode, an accomplished writer. He’s written several screenplays and penned dozens of books (one of which is assigned reading). He’s even, God bless his heart, had a screenplay produced into a Playboy film called Midnight Blue. Using the film as an introduction to the course, we spent the majority of the class period watching it and discussing its finer points. The film is an obvious homage to Alfred Hitchcock (i.e. double identities, mystery woman, plot twists) but it lacks, well, a shitload of depth. The little emotional value that Brode attempts to insert (or perhaps as the result of editing) seem hokey and cheap. Brode is extremely Hollywood. His mannerisms, jokes and quick wit scream “The Kid Stays In the Picture!”. His explanation of the original screenplay for Midnight Blue (before the editing cuts) almost had me convinced. Almost. But the sex scenes where great!

One of the assignments for Brode’s class involve writing a paper on the themes of sexuality in a movie. Several come to mind, the most obvious being Brokeback Mountain but last night I saw an Icelandic film with my boyfriend called 101 Reykjavík. It was surprisingly wonderful and the perfect film to pick apart. In it, the protagonist Hlynur is a jobless guy living with his mother. He spends his days sleeping and his nights drinking until his sexual escapades shake up the foundations of his listless existance. How’s that for a tagline, Mr. Brode!