Saturday, July 2, 2011

Chasing shadows in the sun

One day, a link I followed led to an “article” on who was out and proud in Hollywood. The only surprise was Jonathan Knight, formerly of NKOTB. The only other vaguely interesting thing was that it included Johnny Weir.

Who cares? The verdict was moot for anyone who’s ever seen or heard him. One of his nicknames is apparently “Tinkerbelle”, and I doubt it’s because he loves Peter Pan so much.

It’d be a waste of time coming up with superlatives superb enough to describe this adorable little fellow; I have never described any fellow as “adorable” in my extensive career as a dude-watcher. Moreover, 5’8” is hardly “little”.

Adorable” is the first word that came to mind the first time I saw him. It will also probably come to mind whatever he wears, some of which can only be kindly described as “ill-advised”.

How compelling is he? Anyone I’ve strong-armed into watching his now world-famous* Pokoface will look for more Johnny Weir, or figure skating in general.

Of course, Princess isn’t always sunshine, laughter, and an ass to die for; he certainly looks evil and not unlike a certain Tom Hiddleston in this video, where Evan Lysacek sounds like a Valley Girl:

However, I believe the Epic Bitchface was borne of his burning desire to win, although that currently appears to have been supplanted by the quest to be the prettiest figure skater in the world (MAC certainly thinks so).

Despite being the 2010 Olympic figure skating champion, Evan Lysacek looks like a mere spinning top in contrast.

Consider these programs at the 2010 US Championships:

Johnny Weir: I Love You, I Hate You (DiBlasio) (the minxy look at around minute 4:00 is a bit much, even for me)

Evan Lysacek: Firebird (Stravinsky)

Creating a program based on “what happened in Munich 2006” (he didn’t win; everyone expected him to) for the 2010 Olympics is also quite possibly the absolute height of narcissism and self-reference.

In my opinion, Fallen Angel would’ve been a better fit at the Mariinskiy Theatre in St. Petersburg; not that I didn’t like it, although there were too many “imploring the heavens” moments and not enough force-of-despair emoting. Loved the outfit though. I think.

On the other hand, my impression of Lysacek is:

*flail flail flail long legs flail long arms flail triple toe loop successful landing NOT flail flail flail flail*

Johnny Weir might have displayed “too” much artistry but insufficient technical flash to impress the judges (placed sixth), but how Lysacek’s performance deserved the gold is beyond me (this opinion is possibly biased).

If the Olympics used the Idol-type voting system, you can bet that every female of childbearing age (standard deviations and deviants included) would have ensured that Weir’s gold medal was accented with glitter.

Self-aware being that I am, I realise it is, to an extent, a fa├žade. I know he doesn’t look as cute without makeup, and that he’s probably incredibly insecure and just wants everyone to love him, which could be the entire driving force behind the things he does. Even though he said he could marry a woman tomorrow if it struck him, I know it doesn’t mean he would.

I like looking at pretty fellows, and this one radiates such irrepressible joie de vivre** that he is as irresistible as peanut butter fudge slathered in caramel butterscotch sauce and topped with rainbow sprinkles.

Why rainbow sprinkles? Because it wouldn’t be Johnny Weir without some damn rainbow sprinkles.

Happy birthday, Johnny!

Image from

* Completely made up true fact 
** Very different from actually feeling it

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