Sep

Shame on CNN for Mainstreaming the Fringe

The CNN\Tea Party Express Debate leaves liberals like myself in a precarious position: while many of us are upset with the Democratic Party up to and including President Obama and have not been shy in making that upset known if that upset or criticism causes any one of the eight people onstage Monday, September 12, 2011 to be elected to the White House then we will have let despots win.

Each of the eight candidates on stage in Tampa, FL in an event sponsored by and filled with Tea Party loyalists, at some point or another in the evening made it clear that Poor America, Middle America, Thinking America was not welcomed at their table and must, in fact, be defeated. The audience had vitriolic members in it, people that would yell
“Yes!” when asked if a man that needs six months of intensive care to recover should have his bills covered or die…the answer was clearly heard in the crowd, yes, die. And no one denounced it. No one chastised the audience. Not any of the eight, or moderator Wolf Blitzer; no one.

Some of these people are truly evil or severely misguided and uneducated about America, how it works and what its core and real values actually are.

As I sat listening, I couldn’t help but remember my interview with David Holthouse from mediaMatters.org who went undercover with the skin head movement. He told me about American Third Position, a3p, a white nationalist movement (read legitimized skin head lobby) that is operating within the Tea Party and how no one has denounced them or refused to take their money, playing it off as the tea party is comprised of local groups and what those groups on their own do is their own business; plausible deniability at its best. Could some of that money have sponsored this debate? Or any of the groups that were in the audience? Who are these people? And why are Republicans pandering to them and CNN legitimizing them? In all fairness, the syndicator of my radio show takes ads from a3p, and should I ever hear one I use my freedom of speech to remind people who they are, what they stand for and how racism under any catchy title is still racism.

Perry, Bachman, Romney, Paul, Cain, Santorum, Huntsman and Bachman all made it clear that anything that protects the environment, like the EPA, the Environmental Protection Agency (started by Republican Richard Nixon), or inhibits business, read regulation, was bad, that corporate taxes were too high and health care reform, dubbed Obamacare, was the cause of all the nation’s woes. There should be no Dream Act or anything but deportation and fences to solve immigration and as for health care if you can’t afford to buy it you simply shouldn’t have any and yes, in the words of the audience, die.

And yet I have to be careful about what I say about them? I must not be too harsh, too divisive. As a non conservative I must have productive rhetoric, non judgmental, no name calling. But they can say an American should die without health care and that’s all right. America’s, and especially liberal’s outrage is so often misplaced.

The fact is that audience members and candidates alike repeatedly proved to be un-American in their views, their ideas, their plans and schemes and in their tone. Corporate America was and is the only America they seem to care about and the audience is too dense to know it. They use catch phrases like regulation reform, tort reform, personal responsibility…each meaning something totally different to the candidates than the audience.

Personal responsibility simply means it’s your fault you are poor, uninsured, without food or a job or cash. As 15.1 % people live in poverty now, the largest number since 1983, each of them is responsible for getting themselves in the mess and should get themselves out without things like food stamps, MediCare, Social Security, unemployment insurance. You are responsible for your safety net, not government, so stop looking for help from it. It’s annoying to the candidates, it takes the focus away from pleasing their corporate masters.

Smaller government? Only small minds preach for small government. A more streamlined, efficient government is one thing, but we’re a big country with millions of people and that takes lots of government. And these decriers of big government don’t really mean it. Republicans grew the government more than anyone with the Department of Homeland Security, and according to Professor John Mueller from Ohio State University when I spoke to him recently, it’s a total waste of money. His new book “Terror, Security and Money: Balancing the Risks Benefits and Costs of Homeland Security” does cost analysis for the war on terror, particularly the DHS, and finds it’s a total waste of money given the benefit. According to his book, we stand a one in 3.5 million chance of being attacked or killed by terrorists, and given the risk, the cost of protection is way out of line. The DHS cost us $t70 billion or more but no one talked of abolishing it. But the EPA, that must go, it’s a job killer and too expensive.

Yes, government of a nation of 309 million should be grand in its scope. And they want it to be, but only for their almost villainous causes. It’s fine to expand government to deport undocumented workers, to build huge fences, deploy national guard to the borders, to do whatever it takes to stop the Brown people from coming in and taking good American jobs and sucking off the American government nipple to bankrupt our medical services, social services, school districts and more. Naturally the corporations benefitting from this cheap labor go unscathed. But oh yes, it’s THEIR fault our economy is partly in the mess it is in, according to the eight candidates at this “debate.” And while there is no truth to their claim, truth was not a factor in this arena. Only things that could get good applause lines and go unchallenged by the “moderator.”

In fact, so many egregious things were said by each that all that can be concluded from the event is that these people really, truly do not like America as it is today, do not like Americans as they are today, do not understand the very documents they pro port to follow (Michelle Bachman and the rest get the Declaration, the Constitution including the Bill of Rights so wrong so often they can’t have actually ever read them) and really have nothing but contempt for anyone not like them, or attached to a LLC or corporation.

So when does the press treat them like the subversives they are? When does the press stop legitimizing these people and their views, and the hateful views of their acolytes? The Republican Party is no longer a credible political party, it is a party of war criminals, of corporatists, Evangelical zealots and oligarchs; at least at the top. It’s the party of millionaires and do-not-cares; obstructionists to anything not of their own design. A party willing to take a country hostage and negotiate like terrorists: give us this or we’ll end unemployment extensions at Christmas; give us that or we’ll cause the United States to default for the first time in 235 years.

As for the Tea Party it is a well funded creation of the Right with members that are downright dangerous to America. They are fringe hate groups, both of them. And if anyone wants to take me task for writing it or saying it I can back it up with countless hateful statements made by either party and its members, from the “Die!” heard during this particular debate, to statements from each and every person on that stage that evening. These people are blatant in their contempt and disregard for the rank in file Americans and their seditionist rhetoric is reaching a fever pitch.

Shame on CNN for legitimizing this bigotry, this hatred, this Anti American movement in the name of free speech, and shame on America for living in the past. The Republican party once might have been a legitimate second party, but now it should be broken up like any mafia ring. And as for the Tea Party, it and its members should be seen in the same light as any other fringe element (insert your comparisons here) hell bent on promoting their extremist agenda. And if you aren’t any of these things but find yourself in one of those organizations, get out. The Republican Party abandoned those in it that were true to the principles of its founder, Abraham Lincoln. And the Tea Party is staying true to its founder’s principals (The Koch Brothers); protect the wealthy by manipulating the uneducated poor.

Yes, I am upset with Democrats and don’t see that party or its members as beacons of hope living up to their mandate or charter, their core principles either. Obama is a disappointment along with Pelosi and the rest. I do wish Obama had a primary challenger so he would have to mix it up in a debate or two and we could hear more ideas from the progressive side.

But that being said, the upset with that party pales by comparison to the absolute need to keep any of the eight people on that stage and their followers far, far away from the White House and any kind of legislative power. The Democrats may be weak and spineless at times, but at least they don’t want to give the country over to those that would truly harm it and aren’t blatant in their contempt for many Americans not like them, Americans like you and I.

To hear Karel’s daily radio show go to http://www.thekarelshow.com M-F 3pm to 6pm PST, weekends on KGO AM 810 San Francisco 7pm to 10pm and in iTunes. To read more columns get the book Shouting at Windmills: BS from Bush to Obama available at Amazon.com and CreateSpace https://www.createspace.com/3512223

Mar

Karel on ABC 7 San Francisco Friday

Karel on KGO with Michael Finney, San Francisco

Feb

Moving forward going back…

It’s official. As of March 26, 2011 I’ll be back on KGO AM 810 San Francisco Sat/Sun 7p to 10p. My old job, basically. To do that, I’ll have to pull my M-F show from Green960 San Francisco, and that saddens me greatly. But effective March 25th that show will be pulled. I will continue M-F in my other markets, KRXA AM 540 Monterey/Salinas/Santa Cruz, KYNS San Luis Obispo, KJRB Spokane, KGOE Eureka, KJRB Spokane and Green1640 Decatur 3pm to 6pm M-F PST.

It’s been a long two years away from KGO, and I welcome the chance to be back in that family. I’m sad I have leave Green but I continue to have the support of Don Parker and Alan Eissenon there, two gentlemen and radio pros indeed.

As for KGO, Jack Swanson has always been and continues to be a supporter, and now I’ll be in his stable of talent yet again.

So, seven days a week of Karel. Not sure the world is ready for it, but here it comes!

Feb

“Spring Awakening”— Teen Masturbation, Pregnancy, Incest, Suicide and Rape In A Catchy Musical

by Charles Karel Bouley II

Photos by Andy Snow / Spring Awakening Tour

Watching the touring company of “Spring Awakening” at their premiere night at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood, CA was awkward at times; but then again, so was puberty so that’s the point. Watching all the foibles and fumbles everyone goes through when it comes to sexuality and growing up, seeing them played out on stage can not only hit close to home, but can make someone downright fidgety.

The play’s themes are so universal they span time. Originally written in Germany in 1891 by Frank Wederkind the play was actually banned for some time due to the subject matter: teens coming of age sexually, dealing with societal pressures and confines and finding out the they don’t fit, things don’t add up, that their bodies are saying something that their parents aren’t and that there’s sexual secrets in all families, even the best of them.

This rock musical adaptation with music by Duncan Sheik (yes, that Duncan Sheik) and book and lyric by Steven Sater roared in to the Pantages in full Hollywood fashion, with limos and celebrities, red carpet and lots of flashes going off. It’s great that Los Angeles still has the Pantages in full glory (thanks to a Disney rehab years back for the debut of the “Lion King” and Nederlander’s management); a little piece of Broadway theatre and excitement on Hollywood Blvd. There is something about live theatre, small and large, and anyone that hasn’t been to a big production, should. Yes, even in a down economy. Especially in a down economy. If you can find a way (and there’s many half priced ticket outlets and discounts), see theatre.

My date for the evening had never been to a premiere and even after 32 years of them I still enjoy them. Richard Schiff sat directly behind us, and I just kept thinking I’m feet away from Toby from the “West Wing” (a show I miss greatly) and a great actor; singer / songwriter Melissa Manchester milled about as Margaret Cho found her seats, Camryn Manheim, Michael Gross, Lorenzo Lamas, Max Adler, super choreographer Kenny Ortega (Michael Jackson), on and on. There’s something magical in these nights, in Hollywood, in theatre. That magic sells billions each year and has crafted dreams for decades, one of the United States’ biggest exports and industries remains the Entertainment Industry, theatre included. Yes Los Angeles celebs and audience came out to see why “Spring Awakening” won eight Tony Awards including Best Musical and stir up just a little stardust.

It’s an inventive production, one that reminded me oddly of another Rock Musical that changed things for theatre (and film) “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” Both dealt with sexual identity and discovery, both had bands on stage with them, rock bands, instead of the traditional orchestra and at key moments of the story both used rock-themed songs to tell an important part. Oh, and John Cameon Mitchell’s Hedwig was from Germany and this play is set in 19th Century Germany. And sexual repression rules the day.

While the themes are universal, the presentation is far from ordinary. Musical numbers are separated out by the cast grabbing hand held mikes instead of the traditional hidden body microphones, often with microphone stands and other production typical of a music artist’s stage show and not a play. Then, it’s mikes away and back in to the scene; and oh the scenes.

Remember puberty? Remember (guys, mostly) someone knocking on the bathroom door or bolting in to the bedroom just at the WRONG moment? The embarrassment? Well, imagine what’s going on inside the bathroom, yes, the masturbation, being set to song. So, as a young blonde star, in this case Devon Stone, pumps under his bathrobe to the music dancing girls swirl around him. When Christopher Wood’s Melchior and Elizabeth Judd’s Wendla figure out a lot can go on in a dark hayloft, we actually see the sex act (implied, but some partial nudity) and then the awkward moments thereafter. When Aliya Bowle’s Martha is told to “be sure you put on that lovely nightgown, the one daddy got you that he likes so much…” we don’t have to be told what that means, the song “The Dark I Know Well” makes it very, very clear. And Stone returns in another scene where he finally makes a play for his object of affection—another male castmate—and the resulting scene provides some comic relief; in fact, the gay relationship is rarely touched upon although present throughout.

Almost every stress point an adolescent can face at that time is examined, from unwed pregnancy to teen suicide, and it’s all filtered through the pressures the kids are under from parents and society, especially religion. Finding out who you are, discovering who you like sexually is a never ending process, and changes in time. Sexuality is fluid, if there’s seven billion people, there’s seven billion sexualities, and the feelings are universal yet teens are often told the feelings are wrong, to deny them, that they are going to hell because of them.

The sad part is that as I watched a play written in 1891 the Puritanism it expressed, the repression, the denial of things like incest, homosexuality and such remain in full force today.

For instance, prior going to the theatre I did my syndicated radio show. On it, I spoke about the app “Confessions” an app for the iPad / iPhone approved by the Catholic Church to digitally allow one to confess. I could write 2000 words about that alone, and may, and spent an hour going through it on air. But the point is the questions. The app does a Spiritual Examination, a checkbox quiz for each commandment. These are samples: “Have I encouraged anyone to have an abortion?”; “Did I give scandal to anyone, thereby leading them in to sin?”; “Have I mutilated myself through any form of sterilization?”; “Have I encouraged or condoned sterilization?”; “Have I engaged in sex outside of marriage?”; “Have I been guilty of masturbation?”; “Have I sought to control my thoughts?” “Have I been Guilty of any Homosexual Activity?”; “Am I careful to dress modestly?”

That’s not Torquemada and the Inquisition, it’s the Confession App from the church at the iTunes store in 2011. It calls a vasectomy or tubal ligation mutilation. It assigns guilt to homosexuality, masturbation, non-marital sex, hell, even dressing “non modestly” whatever that means. As I watched “Spring Awakening” I was forced to say we have come no further to help these kids at all.

Gay teens are still killing themselves in record numbers. In fact, the Los Angeles cast of “Spring Awakening” did a benefit for the Trevor Project at M Bar the night after the opening (Feb. 9, 2011). The Trevor Project is to help GLBT teens not kill themselves. Teens are still getting pregnant because they don’t know about safe sex and many parents are leaving it the schools or society to teach their kids the do’s and don’ts. Abstinence is still taught and condoned, promise rings worn, on and on and on. And yet behind the scenes, we see each day the reality of sex and kids. They’re having it. People are having it with them. Some people that shouldn’t. Some are gay, straight and every shade in between. And they make mistakes. And some don’t make it through.

“Spring Awakening” pulls back a curtain on issues we’d rather not see, but ones we have all encountered. It’s a reminder through song and stage that growing up is tough, and figuring out who you love, when and why is tougher (and an evolving question for life). The cast is spectacular, young, exciting, incredible voices, full of hope and promise much like the characters they play. They filled the Pantages with laughs and moments a little risqué for some. But was it the “blueness” of it, or was it the fact that the sentiment was touching on a past journey of their own? Because everyone in the theatre, cast member and audience alike, has lived through something as a teen portrayed on the stage.

It’s only in Los Angeles for a short time, February 8 through 13 but then moves on to Denver February 15-16, Albuquerque February 18-19 and Bloomington Indiana February 22. For more info go to http://www.broadwayla.com

To hear more of the Karel Show go to http://www.thekarelshow.com

Jan

Traces: Cirque of the Street

For as long as there’s been streets and public parks, there’s been performers using them as a venue for art of many kinds. Acrobats have always been a part of that landscape, and while their tricks and tools have evolved from using each other as props to stainless steel 10′ diameter hoops or velvet ropes dangling from hydraulic pulleys their ability to cause jaws to drop remains.

Seven talented performers have come together for one of five touring shows of the Canadian-incepted and based dance/acrobatic fest “Traces. ” This group will perform through February 20, 2011 at the Ricardo Montalban Theatre in Los Angeles before moving on for a three year outing stopping in a variety of cities (get the schedule at www.TracesUSA.com).

The press release says “Traces” takes place “in a make-shift shelter, with an unknown catastrophe waiting outside the doors of tarp and gaffer’s tape. The audience learns that the characters have constructed this clubhouse to live to the fullest what they believe could be their last moments, hoping to leave nothing unsaid or undone…hoping to leave a lasting mark, their traces, as best they can…” There can be no doubt the play has a post-apocalyptic, raw edged feel, a set of steel and metal, a piano of planks and a black and white projection screen with a very “Cloverfied” aire as raw video is fed in from the front of the actual theatre and then used throughout. Some of the nuances of the referenced story may be lost, but the overall feeling that these dancers are using their bodies, their movement, their raw energy and emotion to desperately leave a mark before somehow disappearing is more than apparent.

Photo Courtesy Broadway L.A.

It’s easy to classify or compare “Traces” to other theatre experiences; It has the acrobatics of a Cirque production, the raw excitement and street feel of any current dance movie or “Think You Can Dance” TV show, the fluidness of a ballet and moves that seem to defy the laws of physics. The show could easily be in Las Vegas as a successful nightly production and the response from the star-studded audience at the Los Angeles premiere made it obvious why there’s so many touring companies of the show.

While the group numbers leap of the stage, some literally, there’s definitely some stand outs. Make no mistake, this is an ensemble show, with all the parts adding up to one creative and stunning whole, but the seven individuals each get a chance to shine when it’s “their time.”

Mason Ames is the adorable “lug” of the group. Taller, a little larger, he describes himself as “clumsy” in the play but is anything but clumsy. His “duet” with the only female of the group, the petite and beautiful Valerie Benoit-Charbonneau, sets the tone early on that there would be as much emotion in the production as dance, as much emotional nuance as sweat.

“The play is all about trying to make a mark,” Ames told me at the “Venice” Magazine after party. “It’s about each of us trying to leave a trace, something behind. But it’s also about our relationship to each other. My character and Valerie’s have something and throughout the play we find out what, exactly, that may be,” he concluded.

Florian Zumkehr dazzles high atop a chair on his head, or at the guitar singing a ballad right after a winded performance. Later he would tell me the song is actually from a German punk band, but in “Traces” it’s given the handsome Swiss man with a guitar treatment and it works, providing a respite from the frenetic pace the troupe maintains.

Florian Zumkehr

Bradley Henderson, originally from San Francisco who told me his parents were more than happy to “send me to the National Circus School in Montreal, no, they were thrilled, really!” does a spectacular routine with a giant metal hoop, part art, part acrobatics, part dance and all entertaining, it shows how a human’s simple interaction with an inanimate object can create a stunning visual experience.

Valerie Charbonneau’s aerial routine on a single velvet rope, propelling her across the stage at the top of the theatre with no net below is as dangerous as it is breathtaking. I asked her afterwards if she had seen our Pop star Pink’s last tour or 2009 Grammy Performance where she does a few of the same moves and while she had not seen it she did state, “I can’t imagine having to sing and be soaking wet when doing that every night,” she laughed.

The oldest of the troupe at 28 is the Chinese born Xia Zhengqi who, because of his size, spends a lot of time being thrown about in ways that would make most feint. His talent with what I can best describe as a deconstructed large spinning Duncan butterfly yo-yo-on-a-string (I’m sure there’s a technical term that escapes me) should be an Olympic sport, if it’s not already.

Philippe Normand-Jenny tests the height of the theatre’s ceiling as he is propelled through the air off a see-saw with two other cast mates jumping on one side and him flying off the other landing in the arms of three other cast mates and a giant memory foam pillow solicited more than a few gasps from his spins, height and speed. Had one thing gone wrong he easily could have ended up with his name and the rest of his body in the lights above the stage.

Karel and Mathieu Cloutier at "Venice" After Party for "Traces"

Created by seven acrobats in Montreal—7 Fingers productions—The name of the troupe is a play on the French idiom regarding the “five fingers of the hand.” The phrase pays reference to distinct, individual parts moving in coordination towards one common goal. With five touring groups, that’s 35 acrobats touring the world mixing cutting-edged music (think Chemical Brothers mixed with contemporary Jazz, Hip Hop and even a little Yael Naim flavor) with as many dance and acrobatic influences.

To gauge the success of a creative endeavor such as this, one that calls upon music and dance more than dialogue and production, all one has to do is look at its multigenerational appeal. Everyone at the Montalban theatre, young and old, were brought to their feet more than once and for quite a sustained (and deserved) standing ovation at the end by number after number. Mason Ames, Valerie Benoit Charbonneau, Mathieu Cloutier, Bradley Henderson, Philippe Normand Jenny, Xia Zhengqi and Florian Zumkehr need not worry about leaving a trace, as the play moves the audience in a much more emotional way than a typically staged production with dialogue and action. This play appeals, plays directly to, the basic emotions of the audience, joy, elation, sorrow, fear, anger, doubt, love…with a moving and often invigorating soundtrack. The raw visuals, whether used for dramatic impact or for comic relief (there’s a very funny Busby Berkley-esque number complete with overhead visuals) add to the production just enough without distraction and what’s left is the audience being able to tap in to the very essence of each of the character’s dance or stunts, leaving us as exhausted as them when done.

See “Traces” more than once and bring a friend. You’ll leave the theatre ready to sing and dance, and amazed at the many ways the human body can be used to create beauty and art.

To read or hear more from Karel go to The Karel Show

Karel and Florian Zumkehr at "Traces" premiere

Nov

Healthy Gay Men Don’t Need Pills

We Don’t Need Your Pills, Thank You

by Charles Karel Bouley II

AIDS drug Truvada shows promise as prevention for HIV transmission in gay men, according to reports out November 23, 2010

I have some experience with AIDS. No, I don’t have it, I’m still HIV negative after over 50 HIV tests (I’m tested 2x per year for oh…20 plus years now, even when monogamous in a relationship…why don’t you?). I lost my first friend to the gay cancer, GRID, in the early 1980s and began covering the plague as a journalist at that same time.

In the late 1980s I would marry/partner with an HIV positive man, who over time developed full-blown AIDS (his t-cells dropped below 200, the criteria then) and only had AZT to take. I watched that drug takes its toll on so many that most refused to take it at some point.

Then 3TC came around, and there were two drugs, two types. Then Combivir and then and then and then. My husband, Andrew Howard, would go on to grace the cover of the “Wall Street Journal” and we both were in Der Spiegel and featured on CNN and every major news network. Why? Because our friends were still dying. Because Andrew thought that he was going to follow the course of our good friend Lorenzo Braxton whom we had just buried. Because I was desperate and heard of a drug study at Stanford for a new type of drugs called Protease Inhibitors. I called the University administrator in charge of the program every day until they agreed to see his medical records.

When they set up an initial appointment after weeks of hounding, of calls, of letters, we flew up. In the intake they said he might be able to join the study, on open label, meaning we wouldn’t know if he was getting the drug. He was crushed. Unless, of course, he’s on mycobutin as a prophylaxis for an infection called MAI. I remember running to the Stanford lobby (pre cell phone) and calling his doctor, who then called in a prescription to his pharmacy for the drug all while the nurse at Stanford called to confirm he was on it. If he was on it, they had to tell him he was on the experimental drug because it interacted. She called, the prescription made it in in time and he got on the study. A dirty trick? We were desperate, as everyone was.

We flew up twice a month. We got a watch with an alarm and set five alarms a day for the pill regime. And over time, it worked. His T-cells rose, his viral level decreased, he regained his health and went off social security disability to become my on-air partner, making history at KFI Radio Los Angeles with me as the first openly gay male couple to host a drive time show in a major market.

The drug was Crixivan, by Merk, and it, and other protease inhibitors changed the game and have kept so many of my friends alive. If Lorenzo had only lived a few more months, or Michael Mungarro, or John Delicce, or my beloved Gary Alexander, or (unfortunately, most of you can fill in a name here).

In 2001 Andrew died unexpectedly in front of me. A heart attack. A 34 year old man dead of a heart attack? Andrew would be one of the canaries in the cage. I sued his primary care physician and the hospital, and my case was allowed to go through after I changed California State Law to do so making AB25 and AB 205 retroactive and allowing any same-sex partners with a case subjudice to proceed. Making history even in death. But my knowledge of HIV, which was extensive at his death, after living with him and it for so long, grew even more in the deposition process, talking with the coroner, with HIV experts across the state.

Seems protease inhibitors raise the cholesterol levels in those that take them and doctors must add in a statin drugs. We know that now, because of people like my late husband.

After his death, my inner circle continues to be comprised of those with HIV, living with AIDS. And I have written things to upset them, and the gay community about HIV. My book is entitled “You Can’t Say That” because Bill LaPointe, then publisher of the Long Beach/Orange County Blade, a Southern California GLBT publication for which I still write, told me I could not say that if you contract HIV in this modern era you deserve it, because education about prevention has been around for 20 years and it’s a hard virus to get. I slept with an HIV positive man for almost 12 years, doing all kinds of things, and never got the virus. I’m living proof safe sex works. And if I turn up HIV positive, I will have worked for it, made bad decisions and thus deserve it. Not that we shouldn’t care. Many will deserve the heart attacks they have after years of bad food and no exercise, but we love them anyway.

And it is from this history that I say the recent revelation that the drug Truvada can cut the risk of HIV infection through daily use 44% when given with information, condoms and the like, and up to 76% in those that take the drug daily (according to MSNBC http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40333614/ns/health-mens_health/) is nothing more than a way to make clients out of a population that doesn’t need pills, healthy gay men.

First of all, SAFE SEX WORKS. Don’t exchange body fluids, period. I know the backlash. I’ve seen the bareback ads on Craigslist (ads where men want to have sex without a condom), I’ve heard of people getting intentionally infected, I’ve seen the rise in PnP (party and play, unsafe sex and crystal use) in the community. I get it. Gay men are behaving badly and getting HIV. Well, what they need is a huge dose of personal responsibility, not a pill.

First of all, if this drug is like all the others AIDS drugs it’s toxic. There is no approved HIV drug that is not toxic to the body, period. The side effects of these drugs are unspeakable, from sexual dreams so vivid people wake in all kinds of states to gambling addictions or suicidal thoughts; vomiting, nausea, headaches beyond belief; diarrhea, blurred vision, insomnia…half of the drugs those with HIV take are to manage the side effects of the other drugs they take.

For instance, what is Truvada? Well, it’s been around for six years. It was approved in 2004. It’s a nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitor, or an NRTi, in AIDS speak. There’s other kinds, non-nukes, they’re called, and then the protease inhibitors, each class of drug attacking the virus or its ability to replicate differently.

Truvada is two drugs combined, as many AIDS drugs are, Viread (tenofovir DF) and Emtriva (FTC, a relative of the earlier mentioned 3TC now called Epivir) . In AIDS patients to be effective it must be combined with another drug, like a protease inhibitor or a non-nuke (NNRTi) like Sustiva.

Truvada’s components are effective against Hepatitis B, and it’s used off label for that already in some places. But what can it do to you?

Well, from the website for the drug, here’s just a few things:

• Lactic acidosis, which can be fatal, and severe liver problems have been reported in people taking nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitors (NRTIs). Contact your doctor immediately if you experience nausea, vomiting, or unusual or unexpected stomach discomfort; weakness and tiredness; shortness of breath; weakness in the arms and legs; yellowing of the skin or eyes; or pain in the upper stomach area.?

• The Viread in Truvada may cause bone problems. In one clinical trial conducted by the manufacturer involving HIV-positive patients who were new to HIV therapy, Viread [combined with Sustiva and Epivir] caused decreases in bone mineral density (osteopenia) at the hip and spine. Researchers are currently looking into the seriousness of this possible side effect. If you have a history of bone fracture or are at risk for osteopenia, your doctor may want to consider ordering bone scans on a regular basis while you are taking Truvada. While it’s not clear if calcium and vitamin D supplementation can help this side effect, it might be beneficial if you are taking Viread.?

• Some patients treated with Viread have had kidney problems

• The Viread in Truvada can be problematic for HIV-positive people who have a history of kidney problems (renal impairment). If you have a history of kidney problems, including kidney problems after using the hepatitis drug Hepsera (adefovir), your doctor will need to order a simple laboratory test to calculate your “creatinine clearance,” which is a measure of your kidney function. Depending on the results of this test, you may not be able to take Truvada. It is always important to be careful if using Truvada in combination with drugs that cause kidney problems or other drugs that are removed from the body by the kidneys.?

• HIV drug regimens containing nucleoside reverse transcriptase inhibitors (NRTIs), including Truvada, can cause increased fat levels (cholesterol and triglycerides) in the blood, and abnormal body-shape changes (lipodystrophy; including increased fat around the abdomen, breasts, and back of the neck, as well as decreased fat in the face, arms, and legs).

• The most common side effects of Truvada are diarrhea, nausea, fatigue, headache, dizziness, depression, insomnia, abnormal dreams and rash.

And of course, it hasn’t really been studied in healthy individuals that take the drug.

See the bullet point above that says Lipodystrophy. Let me tell you about buffalo humps, as those in the know call them. Andrew got two of them. Barely noticeable, behind his neck and in his lower abdomen. No one knew what to do at the time, short of surgery, but the humps would appear elsewhere. Big fat humps. So his doctor put him on injectable Serostim, recombinant human growth hormone. Three times a week we’d give Andrew a $400 shot. Yup, a box of Serostim, seven injections, $2800 our copay; Experimental and all.

He died with those damned humps. He hated them. And healthy gay men won’t like them either.

And let’s talk about tens of thousands of people waking up so terrified because they don’t know if what just happened was real, or a dream, and the dream was something that would make any creation by Clive Barker or Tim Burton pale by comparison. That little side effect stated “abnormal dreams” is the understatement of the century. I’ve slept next to those dreams, they can be horrific.

Everyone wants a pill, a fix, a cure all for what ails us. Science is looking for the magic bullet pill that we can take and eat whatever we want and still lose weight. Because we are lazy.

The same for HIV. Gay men are getting lazy. Condoms suck. They ruin the moment. I want to feel this or taste that or whatever reason someone has for not having safe sex. But to bring forth this pill, to make healthy people customers of drug companies when all they have to do is take control of their bodies and lives is not only ridiculous but seems almost criminal. How many will see this as a prevention and run out and have unprotected sex? Far too many, since so many are doing it now.

No, this is not a good thing for the gay community, nor is it good news for the world. AIDS has always been preventable, ALWAYS. Use a condom. Don’t swap blood or fluids. Be responsible.

We already have emergency measures, morning after for people if they think they’ve become infected. They take the HAART therapy for a period of time. Every nurse that gets a needle stick knows this. Highly Active Anti-Retroviral Therapy (the cocktail, so to speak).

We need a cure for HIV and AIDS. We’ve always had a way to prevent it, it’s called common sense and responsibility. One day I may turn up positive, and if I do, I’ll know why. It will because I messed up, not because I didn’t take a pill.

Truvada, thanks, but no thanks. Perfectly healthy gay men don’t need a pill that can give them such side effects to stay that way; nor do they need to spend the billions on this drug that this could generate. Condoms are free at most clinics or Centers, minimal at most drug stores and information is everywhere.

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To hear more on this and other topics tune in to the Karel Show Monday through Friday 3pm to 6pm PST on KKGN Green960 San Francisco, KRXA AM 540 Monterey, KYNS San Luis Obispo, KJRB Spokane, iHeart Radio, iTunes and online at www.thekarelshow.com

Oct

The World in 107.1 miles

Jerry Brown should ride a motorcycle. Meg Whitman should ride a motorcycle. In fact, every politician from Nancy Pelosi to President Barack Obama should hop on a motorcycle as rider or passenger and take a trip just around one city, one area, one place. Not a sealed bubble of a car or motorcade, but all the sights and sounds and stops of a motorcycle. And so should you.

Ever since my car was totaled I’ve been a motorcyclist, never thought I’d be, never even imagined it. But here I am, a 47 year old openly gay entertainer and media figure out riding about every day on an Aprilia Mana 850, one of the smartest commuter bikes around (partiality noted here). This weekend the Motorcycle Industry Council loaned me a Suzuki Gladius to ride about. I, of course, don’t like to shift, so I stayed on my Mana, but my good friend Niall decided to test it out with me.

Niall and I are an unlikely pair. He’s the epitomé of the straight male in the biker world. A Harley mechanic by trade, bag full of firearms that he loves to take out and practice with, reads all the right wing blogs and there’s not a conspiracy theory around that he won’t entertain or argue about. Born in Hawaii he’s racially tolerant, but has made his fair share of bigoted, racist or even homophobic statements based more on economics than anything else. He believes in border security, kicking Al Qu’eada’s ass and has been in his share of bar fights. And yup, he hangs out with a big queer, me. And we fight and fight about topics. Recently, he’s become engaged and much less rough around the edges. It was our first solo ride after two years of friendship.

Living in Southern California there’s never a shortage of world-class scenery, although most that live here don’t notice any more (more on that later). So we geared up, even in the summer (a lot of bikers forget that asphalt still hurts in the summer weather and leave off jackets or gloves or boots…). Luckily I have AlpineStars (partiality noted here) Summer Collection jacket with all the protection but not all the heat of regular moto jackets. Full face Shoei helmets, good summer gloves and my AlpineStars ankle boots that I wear on the bike or off basically every day. Yup, I got this.

So, off to the gas station, the first learning experience of the day for them (and me). In fact, the trip to the gas station would begin the lesson.

On that first leg of any bike journey is where Meg, or Jerry, or Barack or any other passenger would learn two things from the get go: first of all, protecting ourselves on the roads whether in a car or on a bike is up to us, we must be prepared; and that all that preparation may one day be for naught because our roads are crap (California’s are 48th in the nation and since the nation’s are crap, that’s equivalent with Kabul at this point in some areas), and that because drivers want to text or eat or phone more than drive laws that prohibit such don’t work because you can’t legislate personal responsibility. They would see why 30,000 people a year die in accidents on our own roads (although I’m happy to say motorcycle miles are up and fatalities down) at the hands of poor technology, poor roads, unprepared drivers (we give licenses to anyone basically) and an auto industry that refuses to make it a safer experience. They would see that Americans are in more danger just getting home from work than they are from Al Qu’aeda and launch a full scale attack on our transportation system, at least a three trillion dollar once since that’s what we’ve spend on Al Qu’eada (or more). They would see there’s plenty of jobs just waiting because we basically need to rebuild our roads from scratch.

And they would immediately call Google and say “what can we do to help you with your new Auto Automation software and how can we help roll it out within five years since tens of thousands of Americans are dying needlessly?”

Because trust me (and Niall, and every other motorcyclist out there) most of you simply can’t drive, don’t want to, or refuse to put down the frackin phone, don’t thoroughly look around, bolt out of parking places…well, let’s just say driving is a lost art form and it’s literally killing us.

At the gas station there’s so much to learn. Niall and I pulled up to the same pump. We never look at the price, because even if it’s $.50 more per gallon we’re talking four gallons here, so no big difference. He offered to pay (common among bikers) and I figured I’d get the next one. When he came back, if we had guests, they would have gotten the same earful I did.

“This station charges $2.00 to pay with a card, $2.00!” he exclaimed. “So, if I make $12 an hour, I have to work 1/5th of an hour to pay a bank fee to access my own money, to pay a company to buy their product? Where’s the bank reform on all this kind of crap. Banks charge us to death just to use or get to our money these days! Everybody is trying to pick our pockets!”

He’s right. Bank reform was a joke. The working middle class, if there’s any left, or the working upper class poor (under $75k per year) are “fee’d” to death by the banks. And the tension is mounting. On a recent trip to San Francisco I decided to go see my brethren in the Castro (the gays) and do some banking and iPadding (is that a verb yet? If not, it is now). I walked in to Wells Fargo and a woman was trying to close her father’s account. There was a $25 fee she was never told about, her father had no clue about, in this account that the bank had seen fit to open for her father (I’m a good listener and she wasn’t quiet). She went on about all the fees, the fees, it’s the fees that’s are causing us to leave she exclaimed. I’m quite sure the banker at some point would have reached in his wallet and given her $25 just to make this go away.

Then, while walking down Market a man next to me comment about the empty shopping mall. I made a comment about the economy and he immediately went in to a tirade against his bank who had begun doing what? That’s right, charging him fees of unknown origin, so he went in and gave them a piece of his mind and got them taken care of immediately.

Frustration, it’s everywhere, from the Streets of San Francisco (mad props to the late Karl Malden for the reference, oh and my boyhood crush, Richard Hatch) to the gas station at 7th and Junipero in Long Beach. People are hurting, and often it’s banks and businesses that are hurting them in the name of a fee for something that costs them nothing.

Back on the bikes (the Gladius took under four gallons, the Mana three) and off to San Pedro across the bridges, including the Vincent Thomas Bridge over the second busiest port in the world, the Port of Los Angeles. It’s an important gateway to America and it’s goods, and as such a possible target. I won’t go in to how easy it is to sneak things in containers in or simply walk up to a giant supertanker, but, well, it’s easy.

Next stop Ports O’Call Village. In my teens it was a playground for cruise ship passengers coming or going, the affluent of Palos Verdes, CA and San Pedro, CA and tourists. Waterfront shops and restaurants centered around a bustling port, huge container ships passing by over lunch.

Today it is bustling as well, Full of fish markets where you buy the fish raw and then they cook it for you. About 80% Hispanic, this is where workers, especially Hispanic workers, bring their families on weekends for family lunches. After Niall is asked by a security guard…”Hola, Senor, do you have any cervezas in your backpack? May I look?” Niall and I laugh out loud and say sure! He then sees our helmets and says Oh, itz-ok. No problem.

We laugh out loud about excuse me sir, is that a bomb in your bag, might I look, oh, never mind, you look OK sort of scenario, you know, like airport employees asking if you’ve put anything dangerous in your checked bag (has anyone EVER said yes?).

We get to San Pedro Fish Market at the end of the Village and split a combo plate, It’s shell on shrimp sautéed in the best spices, with Tilapia fillets, peppers, potatoes and onions all thrown on the same plate covered with four tortillas and served with a huge side of salsa. $12.

If we had guests, they’d see, as we did, the four women behind the counter, in the insufferable heat of the day and the grills. Which of them has health insurance? Probably none. Maybe one or two. How many hours must they work like this each week to make ends meet? Is this their only job? And in today’s world, of course, are they legal?

We share a table with a family of five, two kids, boys, mom, dad, and Grandma. Niall and I begin eating shrimp like we’re Baleen whales and fish and peppers all with our fingers, drinking lemonade and laughing. A Mariachi band, a live one, complete with trumpets, begins playing in the crowd behind us. The port is alive today with the darker faces of America and it’s fabulous.

We talk to the family next to us. They’re from Las Vegas. They come out here often to this very place; they drive hundreds of miles to visit a place most in the area have long since forgotten or visit infrequently. Mom and Grandma are, of course, in the service industry. Dad, construction. The boys in school. I speak Spanish, because I live in California, so the conversation was easy.

They offer us food. A huge fish with a face that’s been cooked.

Niall recalls living in Hawaii, spear fishing, then just cooking them right there. And there we are. The big homo in biker gear with tattoos showing, the Harley Mechanic out with the a friend while his fiancée shops for bride’s maids dresses in the garment district of Los Angeles, and the Hispanic family from Las Vegas. Sharing food, conversation, laughter. They buy a giant Corona, and I mean big, and let me take a photo with it. Suddenly, I’m the tourist and I just live two bridges away.

As Niall and I walked away, we both thought the same thing out loud. Legal or not, whatever, who cares. Those were great people, good people, people we are GLAD are in America. If they, or anyone they love, needs help getting in to this country, then dammit, help them, don’t vilify them. They’re not the enemy, the brown people. They’re family. They’re us. They’re part of our community and our culture and we love them as much as anyone else because we’re the same. We just want to sit and eat affordable fish with our families and laugh on a Sunday.

Take that Meg. Learn it. Back on the bike.

Now it’s up the coast, through Palos Verdes Estates and by some of the most beautiful coastline in the world. In the estates we see three Meg 2010 signs, ahh, the wealthy and their idea of what California or the country should be. They want to keep their million dollar beach front property and most of their money, and she’s all for that. They want their Brown people in their maid’s quarters, not at their Ports having lunch. Gotta love them.

We stop at a friend of Niall’s in Manhattan Beach in a mobile home park. While Niall talks I inquire about how much one of the mobile homes that’s for sale is; $200k for a double wide about 10 blocks from the beach,Down from $400 at one point. It becomes obvious why we have a housing crisis. In fact, the countless for sale, for lease or for rent signs, coupled with the going out of business or moving sales along PCH spoke volumes as well. All is not well. And while there’s still beauty and joy, there’s something behind it, too.

Next stop is a huge Harley shop on Lincoln/PCH. Me, at a Harley shop, this should be fun. I’m not fond of them, and agree with Matt and Trey from South Park about many of their riders. I know.

Well, I did. Until the stop. Naill needed gaskets for his Buell. Buell worked for Harley, broke off, made bikes of his own. Past tense. Like many brands of the day, gone.

The guys that came in while I sat iPhoning (bikers wait until they stop to use their phones, novel idea) were, well, every man. They were America. They were workers, older, younger. They were….what was the middle. And their conversations were the same as those at the Port. Family. Friends, the economy. And yes, relaxation. Remember to get out for a minute and enjoy something, anything you love or have, And how time for that is fleeting these days.

Now it was up the coast. There’s something magical about the tunnel that leads to PCH right past Santa Monica, where the 10 freeway begins (at the Pier). I’ve traveled that 10 from beginning to end, literally, and that’s another story. But just passing the beginning of it made me feel not only connected to the rest of the country through that artery, but to the troubles of Katrina and the Gulf Spill directly. That road that starts right there leads to such disaster, such change, such wasted opportunity.

On PCH it is everything every song, poem, movie or work of art can depict. We drove through Malibu, where I had dreamed I’d live when I was younger, home of the rich playground of those that wish to be around them. For sale. For rent. Foreclosed. Yes, even Malibu. And let’s not talk about how it burns almost annually. The traffic congestion locals must endure. No, on some days, it’s just pretty. This was one.

A quick right on Sunset Blvd. and another right in to the Lake Sanctuary on Sunset. Here there is a Shrine with part of Ghandi’s ashes in it. Yes, that Ghandi. Set in a peaceful and serene setting it’s a spiritual place (there is a church there), a place of reflection. I certainly did. I would hope any guest would. Reflect on the smells so far along the way. The ocean mist in Redondo. The BBQs at the beach. The pollution of being in traffic..all of it. You see, smell, hear it all on the bike. Reflect on the conversations at the Port, the laughter, the feeling of true Middle America at the Harley store. Take it in, it’s your state, your country, your world. Experience it, don’t just talk about it, bustle through it or legislate about it.

Then it’s off to the twists and turns of Sunset Blvd. The Mana and Gladius do well, and it becomes clear the only way to get around in an urban environment is a mix of bikes, public transport and other vehicles. Cars just don’t make sense in many settings. We fly past UCLA, a college struggling to turn out America’s next generation of great thinkers. I reflect (you do that a lot on a bike) about the woman I met on a plane back from San Francisco who taught gender studies. She told me of how so much of their time, at their level, at that school, is still spent just teaching kids how to do the basics, like study skills, writing skills, and well, basics. The education system is failing, but the people inside of it are trying so hard, especially the educators.

We pass the first building I did radio in with my late husband Andrew Howard and I cry for a moment. Lucky for me I wear a full face helmet. Donna Summer sings “Sunset People” on my iPod and I laugh, never imagining my life like this. We got to the Abbey in West Hollywood, a long running gay bar in L.A.’s gay Mecca, or Gecca I guess.. Yup, Niall and me and the Abbey on a Sunday. It’s packed. There’s a fabulous gay anthem playing, the obligatory disco diva singing her guts out. Cocktails are flowing. People are chatting. People who survived the bullying everyone hears about. People who “don’t tell” or whom you would never have to ask. People who are legally married, some waiting, some just looking for a connection for the night or a lifetime. It’s people, partying, having fun, fellowship, friends. Niall and I get a juice beverage (pansies, I know but motorcycles are unforgiving in that respect) and we mingle. We see Celebrity X behind the Velvet Rope (below an incredible painting of Liz Taylor that made us laugh out loud!), we see the gay boys and their fag hags, the West Hollywood queers who wear more products in their hair or faces than the women they’re with, each and every one fabulous in their own respect.

I turn to Niall and say, you know, being gay is so fabulous. I love it. I love the music. I love the men. I love that women love us. I love how we get to sing and dance and do whatever we want whenever we want, why, Because we’re Gay! I turn to him, and ask, is being straight just as much a blast?

“Hell f–ing ya!” he exclaims. And we both decide if being gay is a blast, if being straight is a blast, it really must be that just being yourself is a blast, no matter what the package. Here we are, an unlikely pair (and I wish with Jerry, Meg, Barack, Nancy Pelosi, someone in tow) having a great day, experiencing so much of our own area that so many never even take the time any more (including the people). It’s a blast. And yes, I’m a big old homo all the while, and he’s a little fabulous nonhomo and it’s all great.

Being gay is a blast. Bullies are idiots. Politicians who say we shouldn’t marry, or serve, or Gubernatorial Candidates who think gay is not OK (in NY) should all just stow it. Or, better yet, come for a ride with me. Get to know a few. You’ll be amazed. We’re the same.

Then it was sunset at the top of Los Angeles, at the newly reopened and 75 year old Griffith Park Observatory. Downtown Los Angeles to the left, the mid-Wilshire, Santa Monica and beaches to the right, Long Beach off in the distance, mountains behind us and Hollywood sign almost reachable. We drove up to the building (cars were prohibited, motorcycles OK) and parked. And looked. Niall had never been there. All these years in Los Angeles. We’re surrounded by people from all over the world who have come here to see this, this view, of this city. I explain to a young girl as she is literally gob smacked by the Hollywood sign (a little starlet, I could feel it), telling her mom “I don’t even care if you get me in the foreground, just get the sign…” Anyway, I explain to her how it was all about real estate, Hollywoodland, but the “land” fell off and this became an icon. Realtor went broke basically. So an icon of dreams built around a “for sale” sign of sorts. Irony is everywhere.

We look at the sprawl of L.A. and say to each other, since we’re at an observatory, that if we do find life on a new planet, we should tell it to not let us on. We don’t do well with planets. Just look out there.

As we move around the roof, we look at lives so different. Near the observatory, houses are millions of dollars. But just down the hill, look, you can see it there, poverty. From up top the lines between rich and poor, easy and not, the distance between the two is…nothing. Nothing at all. So why such disparity? How can less than 10,000 feet away from such poverty there be such wealth?

The sun sets and neither of us can believe all the things we’ve seen, we’ve thought, we’ve learned or laughed about along the way. As a gay man, I think this is what male bonding must be, Because at that moment, Niall and I were best friends at the top of the world. We agreed that taking the view, the people, the lives we had, no matter how challenging, for granted, was just not a given.

And we realized, before getting on the bikes again that America, including our little portion of it, is still such a great place with such great potential. Anyone riding with us would have seen that, too.

We hit Sunset again, wanting to go beginning to end, and rode in to downtown Los Angeles as the sky turned Orange. The Walt Disney Center, with it’s fabulous architecture, across from the Catholic Taj Mahal, Our Lady of the Angels $300 million … thing…(they even have a gift shop and their own wine, no lie)…amongst the towering corporate logos could not have felt any more Metropolis or world class if it tried. We turned left on 6th Street to go across the very famous and very filmed 6th Street Bridge (S.W.A.T. with Colin Farrell landed a plane on it, so many movies have been filmed on it over the years).

On the way, we drove through skid row, San Pedro streets, Los Angeles streets. Again, just five blocks away there’s lofts, and nightlife and Los Angeles Live. The Biltmore Hotel, where I went at 21 for my first Grammy party, a stone’s throw. Cardboard boxes line the streets, the smell of urine overwhelming in the helmet. An hour ago I was in Bel Aire, driving by the $300k a month home where Michael Jackson died, now, I’m seeing cardboard boxes and urine smell. We drive by the hotel where Andrew(my late partner) and I stayed for a day on air on radio on skid row. I remembered the dead junkie in the room next door, the crack pipe on the heater in our hotel room. We had security. We had people. We weren’t alone on these streets.

I have been. Homeless, Both with my parents and then in my 20′s. I have slept in my car, and eaten food out of a McDonald’s dumspter (every 10 mins they throw away any packaged food not sold, can’t donate it for insurance reasons, dumb, I know. At least they used to).

I can’t help wonder as Niall and I pass these people, how? Why? The numbers have increased since my last drive through here (the Dish Factory is near skid row, cheap dishes). More boxes. More urine. There’s kids, kids out on the street. Kids! I want to stop. The Nikko Hotel, I can see it’s emblem from here. Take them in. A basement, something! Kids! My heart aches. We turn on to the 5 Fwy south.

It’s down the 710, newly paved with a sign saying “your stimulus money at work.” Well, yes, we need it, but what about money for those people over there?

Niall takes the Gladius home once we zoom back to Long Beach. We bid goodbye at a stoplight and I bring Manny back (my Mana). I take off my gear and hug my dogs.

What a day. What a fabulous, wonderful, conflicted, thoughtful day, Great friend, great food, great people. A day of joy, beauty, some of the greatest beauty that tourists still spend good money to come see, in the entire world. And a day of such hardship, Middle class angst, frustration, growing fear. The best the world has to offer, and the worst, all in one day, and all in 107.1 miles.

Everyone should take a 107.1 mile journey around their world on a motorcycle. Or car or bike or bus. Take time to talk, to listen, to really see.

In that 107.1 miles you’ll see the world, And yourself in it. And how it’s all so very connected and the solutions are so very simple.

Meg, Jerry, Barack, Nancy, Dianne Feinstein, Barbara Boxer, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, insert name here, I’ve got a seat waiting on the back of my bike or we can get your trained in under a week and riding your own. Either way, get out of your bubbles. Travel that 107.1 miles and see that we’re not talking an economy or race or policy. We’re talking people connected by 107.1 miles of life.

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Listen to the Karel Show Daily in multiple markets or online at www.thekarelshow.com 3pm to 6pm PST.

Sep

Enough is Enough! The Noise from Florida Is Deafening.

Enough is Enough is Enough
Stop the Media Blitz about the Nut
By Charles Karel Bouley

OK, now this has gone too far.

Enough of all this fake protest over the nut-bag in Florida with less followers than I had guests at my last dinner party; the one that wants to burn the Muslim holy book. All this global outrage, including a comment from the United States President, at this media created hysteria has now got to end before it hurts someone.

Because no matter what anyone will ever tell me, burning a few books does not endanger our troops, outrage any more or cause any worse ripple effect then launching two illegal occupations of Muslim homelands, sustaining those occupations for seven and nine years (and counting) respectively and a refusal to acknowledge the Islamaphobia created by George W. Bush as he terrorized a nation and world for eight years—unstopped by Congress (including the Democratic led Congress since 2006)—with his NeoCon Right Wing Evangelical propaganda. That President told people he was preparing the Middle East for the return of Biblical angels; a statement by a Christian President with occupying forces in Muslim land, a statement backed up with things like “shock and awe.”

And as horrible as the nut-bag’s actions in Florida are, due simply to the disrespect of it all, I still believe blowing up neighborhoods with collateral damage called children, women, innocents whose only crime was living in a region deemed a danger by Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld and all the other unprosecuted war criminals is far worse. Killing people at a birthday party on camera and enjoying it is far worse. Asking our troops to go door to door in foreign lands with no clear goal is far worse.

We have destroyed the country of Iraq, period, end of story. It does not exist. There is a shell where a country once was with no real working government, inadequate defenses, infrastructure and the vast resources benefitting a small few and not the nation (please don’t say it sounds like here, or was that the plan?). It will be three countries one day, perhaps, or the starting place of a bigger conflict with Iran. Whatever it will be, it’s broken now, and is no way a unified, democratic peaceful ally or nation.

Afghanistan has been exploited by regimes that come in, and then realize, usually after bankrupting the nation, that the commitment is far beyond what any nation can actually commit to and afford, because the nation needs a complete and total revamp, rebuild, and needs a revolution (internal) to solve its problems. But the fact is, it’s broken, too, and our presence isn’t helping because our mission is still unclear. So, another broken country, broken before we found it, and it will be worse after we leave it.

These actions, and our foreign policy endangers our troops. Deeply ingrained hatred and misconceptions endangers our troops (on both sides). Allowing your President to deploy troops where there should be none, and attack strangers who are not our enemy endangers our troops and our security. Running a black ops torture chamber known an Guantanamo endangers our troops. Waterboarding with impunity endangers our troops. Not impeaching that President endangered our troops. Not forcing this one to completely withdraw (out means out) endangers our troops. And yes, Bashing Muslims in this country, be it stabbing a cabbie or protesting a Mosque, say it with me, endangers our troops (oh ya, and burning their Holy book).

But stop all the denouncing. Every major Christian leader should fly to Florida, form a human chain between this nut and the burn pile, and tell him No! We Christians know this is wrong and hateful and we stop you in the name of our Lord! Let them police their own crazies. But stop condemning and get up and do something. Go there, stop him. Put yourself in between. Show the Muslim world good Christians will stand up for them even to one of their own. But No. They’ll condemn and moan and groan but say “we have to let him, it’s his right in America…” Yup, it’s his right, but nope, you don’t have to let him. It’s your right to go there, and stop him. Show up, join arms, block the burn pile.

Or, in a show of solidarity, burn the Bible on Saturday as well to show that any God can withstand a good bon fire. Make smores, because only God can make a Smore, from the heat and be joyous that your God is more powerful than a small bonfire and that His Word has withstood much worse than a crazy guy in Florida. Burn your bibles to show the Muslims that it’s all just books being burned, not Gods or faiths (or religious leaders as the Catholics once did) but just pulp returning to ash. Show them your book and theirs are equal and that you both mourn the stupidity that day.

Or shut the hell up; Because the NOISE about it all is what is dangerous, not the act itself. I talk to thousands a day, my columns read by more than 50 people. If I burned a Bible on Saturday would it start world wide condemnation and protest? Would Obama comment about Karel. I doubt it. It would be seen as a radio stunt, like Beck’s rally, an entertainer doing a PR move.

So why isn’t this? This guy wanted Press, that’s all, and he’s clearly crazy. With Snooki and Lindsay and others we have enough Crazy in the news. We don’t need Christian Crazy, any more than we have it already.

There are insane people like this guy in Florida all over America with agendas as bigoted, as phobic, as ridiculous as him. Media does not cover them because it leads to no productive end, and bigotry and racism isn’t new or newsworthy.

He’s a miscreant. Don’t focus on him.

Our actions as a nation have been far more offensive to the Muslim world than this. Bush’s illegal occupation of Iraq and our failed mission in Afghanistan (wasn’t it to get Osama Bin Laden, then, we failed) have only harmed us more. Guys like the one in Florida and things like the Mosque in NYC will end as soon as we get our troops out of harms way all together when it is not necessary.

The Muslim world, and most Americans agree, neither Iraq or Afghanistan are necessary. Start with that, and forget the preacher. Wars endangers troops more than bonfires.

Sep

Truth

Written by me in 2005 to sum up how I felt at a deposition in my case against L.B Memorial Hospital and Dr. Kooshian:

The truth.
Where is the truth?
How does one find it?
People sit and swear to tell it.
They affirm to deities to defend it.
They profess their love of it.
And then evade it…
coat it…
dodge it…
colour it…
Lawyers jockey to be in control of it.
Judges sit in awe of their ability to discern it.
And yet the only thing sure about the truth
Is that everyone sees it differently.
And swears their version is absolute.
And once the truth is finally revealed
It is just as quickly lost to versions of it

Aug

It’s A Radio / TV Stunt, Nothing More, Nothing Less

By Charles Karel Bouley

Beck’s Event Was a Great PR Stunt but the gathering of a movement?

The industry of Glen Beck is happy: those that own him in radio and TV. He had an absolutely great weekend when it comes to the media. His stunt worked. But what amazes me is why America sees it as anything more than that: a stunt.

I’m in radio. For 20 years I’ve had Program Directors, General Manager, Promotion Managers and yes, myself, coming up with ideas to get attention, ways to to get the show out in the community and get it noticed. In Los Angeles, two relatively obnoxious shock jocks are always holding rallies, and sometimes, thousands show up. But they’re not covered in our news as political rallies; they’re covered for what they are, radio station stunts.

So let’s get this straight America: the rally in Washington, D.C. this weekend was a radio station stunt, a TV station prank, not a political movement of any kind. Those of you that showed were there to see your favorite celebrities, Beck, Palin, just like those that lined the red carpet at the other big event this weekend, the Emmy Awards. And the people leading the rally, Beck, Palin, Fox, they are opportunists saying what you want to hear to get attention to their cause: self promotion.

Because that’s what this is about — self promotion —Not reclaiming America, returning it to any values, and certainly not about any kind of God. It was a successful act of self-promotion on the part of all involved, one that got to generate even more publicity by spitting in the face of those who remember a real movement, a real speaker and a real event that happened in that very spot 47 years ago that very weekend.

I’m not surprised it was all over the news. It’s the end of August, a typically slow news time, where networks are looking for stories. And, the event was created by the media, so the media, of course, responds in kind. Many times my radio stunts get or got coverage, but we always had to compete with any breaking news. We’d never do a stunt in the middle of a huge news cycle unless the stunt had to do with that event. Never compete. Beck and his xenophobes don’t have King, civil rights or any such nuisances on their radar, so to them, there was no competing event.

I am surprised of how the media treated the event. Again, it’s a TV station or radio station stunt; like a Man Cow stunt, an Opie and Anthony stunt, a Karel stunt, a stunt by any other name. What it’s not is a symbol of what’s happening in America. Because if it is, thinking, educated people should consider leaving.

Part evangelical speech, big chunk theatrical display, the stunt did everything it should for the participants: their names are all over the news, Becks’s show will have big cume (viewers and listeners) today which generates in to ratings and all is well in the corporate world of radio and TV.

Our Constitution gives Beck and his ilk the ability to have a stunt on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. And like a Pied Piper he led those who are strangely susceptible to his warped and bizarre tune. But it is just that, a tune, one he would change at a moment’s notice if there were more in it for him, or the others involved. But just because someone has the right to such a stunt doesn’t mean we have to play in to it or pay attention to it.

Am I impressed that 10,000 or more gathered to see their favorite host and a few other of their conservative stars? Nope, just Friday night I was at the Greek where thousands gathered to see Cyndi Lauper, and I’ve been in arenas where 15,000 people have gathered to see a Pop Princess named GaGa. People will show up to see things they like. Let’s see Beck and his kind get those numbers on tour, like a GaGa or another performer. Gathering thousands is great, but don’t pretend you speak for millions any more than Oprah, who gathered twice as many in Chicago to kick off one season of her show in an outside plaza.

Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin are TV and radio personalities who pulled off a great stunt. The people that attended are dupes who actually believed the event stood for something and that there was a motive behind it other than profit. And the media that covered it as anything other than a radio or TV stunt have lost perspective on what, and who, in America qualify as a real movement versus flash mobs setup by multi-billion dollar corporations.

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