"Portrait of Jason"

I'm gonna have to work on my name. Anonymous just isn't going to cut it.

Which reminds me. Titi and I saw this great movie this weekend. "Portrait of Jason" (1966) by Shirley Clarke. Knocked me on my butt. Jason Holiday was the name given to him by his friends in San Francisco, and he liked that name much better than his real name, which was Aaron Payne. His father was known as "Brother Tough." And it sounded like he was. Tough. Didn't much like his queer son. But there his queer son is, in front of a camera, talking about the night club act he's going to do, about the women he's been houseboy for, the men he's played "stone whore" to. Kiki must know the movie. Jason is just too much, just like her. Just keeps laughing. Until one of the people behind the camera tells him that he knows he's just a piece of shit. That brings on a tear or two. Before he starts laughing again. Maybe you're a little like Shirley Clarke. Turning on the camera, or in this case the blogger page, getting me to give up some of what I've got that's too much. Jason oscillates between saying, "Oh, I'm going to tell it all" and "They're never going to get it outa me." And keeps laughing.