Justin came out on Ugly Betty last night, and this is one of the sweetest, most subtle handlings I've seen on TV. If you want to catch up on the story line, check the four previous videos documenting the lead up to last night's episode by clicking this video and seeing the previous videos uploaded by this same user.
The writers, producers, ABC, and of course, Mark Indelicato all deserve a lot of credit for something so beautiful:
By Jeff Walsh
This past Saturday, Gavin Creel was in New York City, talking to me on the phone.
18 hours after this interview, a car picked him up early in the morning, and took him to the airport, where he boarded a jet to London. In a few weeks, he and the rest of the Broadway tribe of Hair will open the show in the West End. Creel was Tony nominated for his turn as Claude, the conflicted hippie who has to decide what's important for him as the summer of love overlaps with the Vietnam War.
I reviewed the show back in January, but didn't realize at the time that Creel was openly gay. Having figured that out at some later point, we had a few interview attempts, but our schedules weren't lining up.
With the clock ticking on how long Creel would be on American soil, before bringing his magical show of peace and love to London, we finally made it happen. Here's what we said:
By Jeff Walsh
I was surprised to find out that, despite watching the show for many years, I've never interviewed a Project Runway contestant for Oasis before. This year, I was interested to talk with Jay Nicholas Sario, who lives in San Francisco, works for The Gap, and as of this writing, is still going strong on the show. We set up the interview recently through the show's publicist, only to discover that we work within a block of one another. Jay jumped on the phone call just as my automated corporate teleconference voice announced that the call was being recorded. He immediately jumped in.
Oh no... I'm nervous!
But there's no video?! They video'd you on Project Runway. This is just audio and it's not even going to be broadcast.
Extended usage of parentheses is dangerous to one's health. It screams, "too much time spent in theoryland!"
I want to channel my favorite theorists today. Become... Kristeva, say, or Cixous, for a minute or two. Theory is a deliciously filling alternate universe. It's a place where the real things -- deadlines, feelings, and so on -- are turned away at the entrance. Theory is like ice cream. You want it, but damn it, it's not that good for you in large quantities.
Yes I know, it's been so very long. It's great to see the old gang as well as all the new people, so welcome to all of you.
Since it has been a long time since I've written, I think we need to catch up on my goings on, so here's my life, as it stands right now, in a nutshell....
I sit here and watch all these stupid love movies where its bliss, everything always works out, high school sweethearts get married and live happily ever after, guy breaks up bad marriage and gets the girl, or whatever...they all end the same...HAPPILY. I want that, I know itll never happen, but there has to be somethin out there better than what Ive got. I mean, how much bitching and whining and arguing can one person take in a 2 year relationship? Everyother day is a fukkin dramatic argument that usually ends in one of us dumping the other.
I found my old neopets account passwords. Now I have 5 accounts, but I've only tried to get into the first 4.
PEOPLE!!!! It feels so go to be back...
Hip-hop is in a state of 911, so...
Everyday is just like any other day, people being as they are. Ignorant, stuck up, gossip, and making rumors that never happened and yet they just love to make other people feel bad. Yet, here I am, stuck and feeling sorry for myself in my dank bedroom painted in dark purple and white ceiling. Laying comfortably on my double bed, on sky blue sheets with gold stars and moons floating on the spread. My tiger faux print pillows and blanket, three other pillows lies uncovered from its slip, double sized black blanket covering myself, with beautiful patterns of faded white flowers. Sometimes the room can be like a boiler, as my own mother would state
God, the way he said the word dyke, I just wanted to shrivel up and die.