Josh & Josh are Rich and Famous

Josh & Josh Interview Sarah Jessica Parker, Cynthia Nixon, Kristen Davis, and Kim Cattrall for Sex and the City: The Movie

Josh and I kept trying to think of a way to ease into this announcement, but we realized there's really only one way to do it, and that's to just lay it all out on the table:

This week Josh and I sat down with the cast members of Sex and the City: The Movie -- Sarah Jessica Parker, Cynthia Nixon, Kristen Davis, and Kim Cattrall -- and interviewed them in person about the upcoming film.

Ummm . . . OH MY GOD.

Many, many more details to come.

Did we think this moment would ever really come?

Nope. But (holy $h!T), it really did.

Josh & Josh

The 5,000th Josh & Josh Comment, T.R. Knight and His New Boyfriend Mark Cornelsen, Idol's David Archuleta and David Cook, and What We're Reading Now

Last week Josh & Josh got it's 5,000th comment, posted by J&J reader Erik on the Larry Craig Airport Bathroom Stall post.

"Wow, you can get your shoes shined first. Better to see up under the next stall," Erik wrote. "Did you see others also checking out the (in)famous spot? Were there others in the bathroom using it for its intended purpose that wondered why you had your camera phone on?"

Shiny shoes would indeed be handy if doing Larry Craig-style business in that bathroom. There was nobody else checking out the spot when I was there, but airport staff report that the bathroom become a popular tourist destination. I made sure to get the camera phone shots quickly so as not to rouse the suspicions of any good-looking cops on the prowl for restroom troublemakers.

Yay to 5,000 comments! Here's to 5,000 more.

The best performances on tonight's American Idol came from 17-year-old David Archuleta singing an acoustic rearrangement of "Imagine" and from David Cook rocking out vocals and electric guitar on "All Right Now."

This week Minneapolis-born Grey's Anatomy star T.R. Knight debuted his new boyfriend, college student Mark Cornelsen, at an Oscar's week event in Los Angeles. (More info on Mark here.)

I'm just glad that we have T.R. and Mark now instead of Lance Bass and Reichen Lehmkuhl, you know? Much better.

Josh & Josh Books

Josh H. just finished Dog Years by Mark Doty.

Josh H. is now reading The Plot Against America by Philip Roth.

Josh & Josh are both reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle.

Josh & Josh have I Am Not Myself Today by Josh Kilmer-Purcell newly on their bookshelves.

The Joshes Do Moving Day

Josh H. (left) and Josh K (right) in a live-action cell phone shot, barreling down the West Side Highway in a big white cargo van.

On Sunday, at the crack of noon, Josh and I wiped the crumbs of Egg McMuffins off our faces and met Kirsten at my apartment for the joyous event we all know as Moving Day.

The three of us picked up a rental cargo van and then parked it in front of my old building. Kirsten was the designated van girl, doing van laps around the block when a snowplow tried to barrel past, and guarding my piles of valuables in the van (you know, like my tax papers and bedding and stuff), while Josh and I ran loads up and down from the apartment to the van.

An hour later the three of us were barreling down the West Side Highway, Kirsten riding illegal shotgun in the back of the van, Tijuana smuggling-style, nestled in on a bag of clothes and sliding around every time Josh K. hit the brakes. (I don't think I've laughed so much on a moving day.)

When we prepared to enter the tunnel to Brooklyn, a security officer peeked into the back of the van. "Um, that's not going to work with her back there. That ain't legal."

Paranoid we were going to end up arrested or our van impounded, we quickly got Kirsten into a cab on her way to my new apartment and then Josh and I drove to Cobble Hill. Kirsten stood outside my new building as we pulled up.

"Your neighborhood is so cute!" Kirsten said as we got out of the van. It was true; it was almost better than I had remembered it.

The unloading seemed to go faster than the loading. By three o'clock the van was empty and everything was in my new place.

"Oh my god, there's so much space!" Josh K. said as he and Kirsten explored my new apartment.

Soon we were all eating scrambled eggs and French toast in a cozy nearby brunch spot. I was exhausted, but excited.

Finally, in New York City, I felt like I was home.

The Obama Delusion?

After months of the American press corps endlessly fawning over Barack Obama, the tide seems to have turned this week as Obama took front runner status on the way to the Democratic presidential nomination. America has always loved to put icons on pedestals and then knock them down, and this week writers for Newsweek and New York, among many others, took full swings at Mr. Obama. Two intriguing excerpts are below.

From Newsweek's Robert J. Samuelson:

It's hard not to be dazzled by Barack Obama. At the 2004 Democratic convention, he visited with Newsweek reporters and editors and I came away deeply impressed by his intelligence, his forceful language and his apparent willingness to take positions that seemed to rise above narrow partisanship. Obama has become the Democratic presidential front-runner precisely because countless millions have formed a similar opinion.

It is, I now think, mistaken.

As a journalist, I harbor serious doubt about each of the most likely nominees. But with Sens. Hillary Clinton and John McCain, I feel that I'm dealing with known quantities. They've been in the public arena for years; their views, values and temperaments have received enormous scrutiny. By contrast, newcomer Obama is largely a stage presence defined mostly by his powerful rhetoric. The trouble, at least for me, is the huge and deceptive gap between his captivating oratory and his actual views.

He has run on the vague promise of "change," but on issue after issue—immigration, the economy, global warming—he has offered boilerplate policies that evade the underlying causes of the stalemates. These issues remain contentious because they involve real conflicts or differences of opinion.

The contrast between his broad rhetoric and his narrow agenda is stark, and yet the media—preoccupied with the political "horse race"—have treated his invocation of "change" as a serious idea rather than a shallow campaign slogan. He seems to have hypnotized much of the media and the public with his eloquence and the symbolism of his life story. The result is a mass delusion that Obama is forthrightly engaging the nation's major problems when, so far, he isn't.

From New York magazine's John Heilemann:

Theories abound as to why the media has treated Clinton and Obama so differently. The simplest is that reporters simply like Obama better; that he’s new and fresh and unburdened with anything resembling Clinton fatigue. Another theory revolves around cultural bias. “The fact is that the national press is a bunch of northeastern liberals,” says the adviser to an erstwhile Democratic runner, “and they just love the idea of this post-racial black dude being the nominee.”

A third revolves around the respective dramatic arcs embodied by Clinton and Obama. Citing the Times primary-beat reporters assigned to the candidates, a competitor of theirs observes, “Pat Healy’s job is to challenge the Clinton myth and machine. Jeff Zeleny’s is to write the epic rise of Barack Obama. That’s generally the media’s approach—Clinton and Obama are just at different points in their stories.”

The implications of Obama’s and Clinton’s respective meta-narratives for their press coverage have been profound. For Clinton, the inability to change the story line meant that any vaguely negative maneuver was interpreted in the darkest possible light, for it reinforced a preexisting supposition.

For Obama, however, any criticism could be fended off as a manifestation of grubby old politics. And any act he committed that could be perceived as nefarious created cognitive dissonance. A prime example is the case of Tony Rezko, the now-indicted Chicago fixer and slumlord to whom Obama has been linked for many years. “There was no way for the press to believe it wasn’t true—because, you know, it looks like people are going to jail,” she says. “So instead the press dismisses the story as an aberration.”

The trouble for Obama is that the Republicans aren’t terribly likely to let that dismissal stand—nor the polite avoidance of discussing his controversial minister, his wayward youth, or, indeed, his blackness itself. Again and again, as Clinton often points out, the GOP has proved painfully adept at taking compelling, carefully honed meta-narratives and blowing them to pieces.

But no matter what Obama's handlers say, the notion that he’s been subjected to the most withering press scrutiny imaginable is—how to put this?—a fairy tale. His success has turned in no small part on his skill at avoiding such flyspecking, and on his rival’s inability to muster the same kind of dexterity. If Obama winds up facing John McCain, a man whose meta-narrative is spun from pure gold, he is unlikely to be so fortunate again.

Adventures in Larry Craig's Infamous Minneapolis Airport Bathroom Stall, With Your Host Josh H.

After a restful President's Day weekend spent in Minneapolis visiting family and trying to stay warm in the freezing weather, I made sure to take a quick tourist stop at the airport in the precise bathroom stall where Idaho's Republican Senator Larry Craig propositioned an undercover cop for sex. Super classy fun!

The poorly lit and smelly bathroom stalls reminded me more of a badly maintained junior high locker room bathroom than the kind of place where a United States senator might seek some sensuous man love. But, you know, to each his own, right?

The Larry Craig bathroom, right next to Royal Zeno Shoe Shine.

The precise stall in question. If this doesn't put you in the mood, nothing ever will.

Cough, cough. Oops! Oh, gosh, sorry! I think my stance got a little wide there. Sorry! 

"Hi Grandma! This is where Senator Larry Craig tried to get some hot man love from that young, strapping police officer! See you again soon! XOXO, Your Grandson, Josh."

All photos taken on Josh H.'s Motorola KRZR mobile phone

P.S. When I left Minneapolis on Monday night the temperature was 1 degree outside (-17 C). When I landed in New York it was 50 degrees (10 C).

So, you know, fifty times warmer. But who's counting?

Idol Chatter: Who's the Sexiest Season 7 American Idol Contestant? Which Pair Would Make The Best Gay Couple?

This is going to be an extremely intellectually stimulating, multi-faceted, challenging, and deep post.

It will probably make you rethink your entire life.

These are some of the most important questions asked in our modern times, other than those concerning Israel and Palestine, Iraq, the 2008 elections, China, the American economy, and HIV/AIDS in developing nations.

Are. You. Ready?

Okay, but no more of this nonsense now, as I simply must get back to my latest issue of Atlantic, and finish devouring last week's New Yorker, and catch up on Sunday's "Speaking of Faith" NPR podcast. After that perchance I'll whip up some hummus and do a few yoga poses before listening to my Rachmaninov LPs while finishing up my political science doctoral dissertation.

Namaste. Go forth and be the change you wish to see in this world.

And, of course, see you soon for more Idol chatter.

I Heart Cobble Hill, Brooklyn (Or: Josh H. Pulls a Miranda)

Next Sunday I'll be all moved into my new apartment.

(So much for homelessness, I guess.)

But, the surprise?

It's in Brooklyn. And I couldn't be happier about it.

I always thought I was one of the "Oh, I could never leave Manhattan!" guys, but when I took a trip out to Brooklyn's Cobble Hill neighborhood to see the place, I fell instantly in love with the area and the apartment itself.

A quiet residential street in Cobble Hill, taken on my KRZR.

What's so special, you ask? Well, kind of everything.

The minute I stepped out of the subway I stepped into a world of tidy, intimate streets, bustling with twenty- and thirty-somethings, young families, and all manner of creative-looking folk. Everywhere I turned there was an organic grocer, an independent coffee shop, boutique restaurants I'd read about, and -- oh yes -- the promise of a real Target not far away. And, more intangibly, there's just a different feeling about the neighborhood: something more restful, slightly more optimistic, and easier-going than the world of Manhattan.

And then, the shock of the apartment: The place is basically split into two wings; one wing for me, one for my roommate. My wing offers a large room -- about 12 feet by 24 feet -- with the bonus of a bedroom (with a door) that's about 9 by 10. The price? Less than $1,000 a month, generously below the market value. I didn't expect to be able to afford that kind of square footage in New York until my early 30s. (In Hell's Kitchen, for example, I would have gotten a 10 by 12 bedroom for the same price, and it certainly wouldn't have gotten me three large windows with a view to boot.)

Am I going to miss Hell's Kitchen? Of course. The proximity to Josh K. and Dylan and my favorite brunch and dinner haunts is unparalleled. That's not to say I won't be back; I'll be back plenty.

But when it's time to go home at the end of the day, now I'll have a nice big apartment waiting for me in one of the cutest neighborhoods I've ever seen in New York. The elderly landlords prefer to rent only to friends of the renters who are leaving, and thus they keep the rent low to attract and keep quality renters. That price, that neighborhood, that square footage -- it's the kind of deal a boy couldn't refuse.

And, just like that, I have a new apartment.

Super Brooklyn Saturday

Later, after seeing my new apartment, I went to an Obama fundraiser held in the gorgeous, gigantic Park Slope brownstone of one of the senior editors from the magazine where I work. I was intrigued by the event and the passion of those attending (including indie movie star Hope Davis -- love her), but I have to stay I'm still 70% Clinton, 30% Obama. I was 100% Clinton before Bill and Hillary pulled a few ugly, unnecessary moves in South Carolina, but the core of my love is still there, even though things aren't looking entirely rosy for Hill these days from the perspective of the electoral count.

Much later, after dinner on Bedford Street with Dylan and the Manchattan boys, we hit up the (newish) Williamsburg gay club, Sugarland. The only problem? We showed up at 11:15, apparently the equivalent of showing up at the hottest new restaurant in town at 4:45 p.m. and hoping to get the full experience. Coat check wasn't even open. But by 12:30 the place was full, and by one it was packed. The atmosphere was low key, the drinks were reasonable (and good), and the music kept us on the dance floor for most of the night. Finally, after three o'clock, we tripped out onto the street and back to the L train. I'm glad I went, but I still have to say that Metropolitan is still my favorite gay bar in all of New York.

On The iPod

Not long ago we proclaimed our love for British singer Adele. This week we were delighted to see Adele's song "Hometown Glory" available free on iTunes (but only until Tuesday, so get your hands on it ASAP). We were happy to see that another of her songs "Best for Last," which we hadn't heard, was also available for sale. We're waiting with breath that's baited for Adele's full debut album to drop later this year.

Further Reading

"The Upside of the Downside" | New York magazine | The economic boom in the United States and in New York City is coming to a close, but perhaps--dare they say it?--there's an upside. Also, an examination of wealth and possession mind games NYC sometimes plays on its denizens.

"The Tragedy of Britney Spears" | Rolling Stone | Vanessa Grigoriadis's in-depth, comprehensive, no-holds-barred look at Britney Spears -- from toddler to mentally ill pop tart -- minces no words.

Floating Alone in the Orchid Boat

Last night I went to see my impossibly talented and handsome friend Noah Michelson read a few of his brilliantly sadistic poems at a reading for The Best American Erotic Poems: From 1800 to Present, just released this month by Scribner. Totally the best Valentine's Day ever.

A few things I learned: 1) Not all poetry is boring. 2) Sex is inherently funny. 3) "Floating alone in the orchid boat" is a bygone Chinese euphemism for clitoral self-simulation.

Here is one of my favorite poems from last night:

On Reading Poorly Transcribed Erotica
by Jill Alexander Essbaum

She stood before him wearing only pantries
and he groped for her Volvo under the gauze.
She had saved her public hair, and his cook
went hard as a fist.  They fell to the bad.
He shoveled his duck into her posse
and all her worm juices spilled out.
Still, his enormous election raged on.
Her beasts heaved as he sacked them,
and his own nibbles went stuff as well.
She put her tong in his rear and talked ditty.
Oh, it was all that he could do not to comb.

Amazing.

//Josh K.

//Josh K.

One More Reason We Love Natalie Portman; American Idol

"I'm not really into marriage right now. I sort of hate the legal aspect of it. What does the state have to do with it? Why are they making rules that say my lover can stay in the United States if they're foreign or share my health care benefits because I'm straight—but if you're gay, you can't have that?"

--Natalie Portman, W mag, March 2008

Natalie and Scarlett star in the upcoming The Other Boleyn Girl, based on the novel by Philippa Gregory, about the ill-fated Boleyn sisters and their affairs with King Henry VIII, opening in theaters February 29th. Josh and I will be there. [Trailer here]