2004-04-13 - 2:48 p.m.
The Morning News� �The Letters of Gary Benchley� took an odd turn today. The first two were funny, engaging, and hopeful. A kid moves from the armpit/capital of New York, Albany, to the state�s true heart, Manhattan. All he wants to do is rock, and he�s determined that we�ll all know his name and associate it with the Gods of rock. The letters read like Jack Black as a hopeful teenager.
This last entry, however, disturbed me. Most of it was funny, he has mental conversations with the lead singer from The Flaming Lips, and he refers to his lame state of mind as �Train,� the shitty band who wants to meet Virginia. But how does 22-year-old Benchley, who flashes himself the devil sign in the mirror while delivering quite the pep talk, end up getting a blow job from his male roommate? He needs rent money, that�s how, so the hetero Benchley �trades� with his roommate, head for high rent. Like a cat who always lands on his feet, the lucky Benchley receives the brain rather than performing it.
Interesting. Is the author making a commentary on how quickly New York can change a person, that it can turn you into a whore in three weeks or less? That to really give your all to your craft, you must be willing to sell out by any means necessary? And what about the tired ass portrayal of a gay male as always on the prowl, always looking for his opportunity to fuck an innocent young boy? It�s so clich�, and it shits on gay people. What next, will you be robbed by a hispanic male while an asian tourist shoots your picture? Please.
Goddammit Benchley, you fucked up. You offered some hope that there were still dreamers in the world, who wanted to rock, or write, or sing, and then you dashed that hope by letting your roommate suck you off. Now you�re just another sell-out whore milling the streets of New York. It�s disappointing. I wanted to hear about failed or triumphant auditions and an all-consuming need to rock the house. Instead, I got this schlock. Better luck next time, Benchley.
Now excuse me while I find a Random House editor and fuck my book into publication.
*Kidding.*
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