CAROLYN CASTIGLIA

To: NY Comedy Scene Re: Heckling Video

2012-04-04T18:40:00.002-04:00

Well, the "heckling video" has just been made private, so this post I was working on is essentially moot now, but to the 69,000 of you who saw it, here's what I have to say:

Yesterday, a video that had already started to go viral in the comedy community was shared on The Huffington Post, which brought it to an even wider audience. The video's title, "Heckler Gets DESTROYED!," implies that this would be yet another video of a comedian on stage handling a heckler in the audience. There are lots of those online, some now infamous, like this one where Bill Burr tears into a Philly crowd so incredibly that he, perhaps unfortunately, has inspired a whole generation of younger comics to jump at the chance to be confrontational with audience members.

But, instead, the video features a young girl named Emily getting her comeuppance, as some would have you believe, for being disruptive during the open mic where this was filmed.

Like Carol Hartsell at Huffington Post Comedy, my first reaction to this video was that it had to be an April Fool's prank, since it was filmed on April 1st. Hartsell says, "No crowd could possibly be that mean to one performer, we thought." Not to mention the fact that it seems virtually implausible that any female comedian, no matter how green, would start a set in the year 2012 with "birth control tampons." But in an interview with Hartsell, Adam Cozens, the comedian who filmed and uploaded the video, confirmed that the incident was not staged. Cozens told Hartsell, "Prior to this incident, she and her friends talked and heckled and yelled all throughout the host's opening time, being repeatedly told by the host, as well as comics sitting around her to be quiet (in not always those kind of words). Of the 15 or so comics that went on prior to her, she talked during each and every one of them."

It's important to note that Cozens said "she talked during each and every one of them," not that she heckled or made fun of every one of them. The implication in the title of the video is that she was making fun of each and every comedian who went up before her, but accounts by those who were there describe her as more of a general disruption than a mean-spirited heckler. I asked Cozens to give me an example of the sort of heckling she was doing, and he said, "Something about "Don't forget to tune in to watch 'Whitney,' Thursdays on NBC," which is harmless and kind of funny. Cozens joked, "Yea, she was NASTY!"

I wasn't there so I can't attest to her behavior, which is part of the problem with this video. The viewer isn't privy to any examples of this girl's prior misbehavior, only the "little mercy" she was shown from the comedians in the audience. Most importantly, this woman was not only taped without her permission, but then subsequently exploited on the web. (As of this writing the video has nearly 69,000 hits.) Many who've seen this video wonder why she wasn't simply asked to leave. Cozens told Hartsell, "Around the time that it was all coming to a head and it was make or break time in regards to giving her the boot, it was decided to just put her on stage and handle it the way we did." So taping her without her permission in order to punish her was a premeditated act.

Even if Emily were rudely heckling every single comedian who went up before her (and it doesn't seem like she was), one person heckling one other person seems a benign act compared to a room full of mostly men attacking a woman who was clearly so nervous to do comedy that she had to get drunk first. (Note to those who want to try comedy: never drink first.) The behavior of the comedians in the audience is at best childish (big surprise!) and at worst barbaric. This should be viewed as the hazing incident it is, meant to intimidate and harass a newbie female who dared disturb the balance of power. Some have argued that a male comedian who behaved in the same way would have been met with the same response, but that's doubtful. Female hecklers are notoriously reviled by male comedians, which is not to say that other female comedians there weren't bothered by her behavior, but rather to draw attention to the latent sexism behind the act of embarrassing this girl online. Putting her in her place, as it were. This is the first video of its kind as far as I know (of an open mic-er being attacked by an audience of fellow comedians) and it's no coincidence that the subject is female.

While some comedians - male and female alike - continue to suggest that gender has nothing to do with what happened, others are willing to analyze the incident more critically. Comedian Josh Homer told me, "Watching that video was like watching gang rape. It was premeditated and over the top. It was pure mob mentality." He continued, "If that was my sister up there being treated like that, I would have burned The PIT to the ground." Indeed, watching this video is like watching a stoning. Or, as comedian Mike Lawrence tweeted, "Viral videos are the new Scarlet Letter."

I'm particularly disturbed by the fact that many people who weren't there continue to maintain that "she got what she deserved!" The willingness of people who weren't there to accuse this girl of things they didn't see her do and then to thrill at her punishment is telling. Additionally, the way some people remain ignorant of the obvious abusive nature of this exchange says so much about how violent our culture at large has become, how volatile comedy rooms can be and how anger is often at the root of what makes comedians funny. This is what happens when that anger comes out without a punchline. (Though I will admit the line, "Your hair is shitty!" is hilarious.) I'd like to commend the host for intervening eventually, though I'm not sure if he was in on the premeditated act of asking her to go up so she could be ridiculed.

To those that would counter, "What do you expect? Comedy is hard! Be rude to comedians, this is what's gonna happen!" I will say this: I might not take umbrage with this act if it happened in an isolated room. It's the uploading of this footage for the world to see that seems like the particularly cruel and unusual punishment. What's worse is that as a result of the fact that this video was shared online, Emily felt compelled to attend another open mic last night and film an apology:

Thank God for the comic at the end of this apology video (who I'm told is Scott Chaplain) who says, "Anyone who actually wants an apology is ... an idiot. Seriously, don't ever apologize, have you watched their sets?" Not only does he prove himself funny, good-natured and insightful, he also makes an important point. While I think it's fair Emily felt compelled to apologize for interrupting other people (after all, that's 1st grade etiquette), what about the apology she's deserved for the way she was treated? I asked Cozens about that and he told me he'd rather not comment publicly, but that he does feel remorse for uploading the video. (Which is perhaps why it has been made private.)

When I contacted Cozens about this saga, I told him, "I hesitate to even mention the fact that by sharing this girl's abysmal material with the world you've set women in comedy back 50 years." That's perhaps the most unfair part of all of this. The comedians who supported sharing this girl's drunken open mic set with anyone willing to witness this train wreck would certainly not support filming a well-known comedian working out new material in a loose room. This material isn't ready for anyone's consumption, let alone the judgmental eyes of the entire Internet. These terrible jokes about tampons and menstrual cups play into every negative stereotype about women in comedy, which comedian Nathan Rand notes has given "some idiots ... an excuse to shit on all women who do comedy." He told me, "I'll say that one thing I do find really disturbing in the comments is the amount of misogyny displayed by the misinformed. She was a heckling jerk who then went on stage and got booed while telling an unfunny, hacky joke. There are more awful male comics than there are awful female comics because there are more men in comedy, period." Um, no pun intended, I imagine.

Spring Cleaning

2012-03-12T10:42:00.011-04:00

I was wearing that horrible nighty my mother bought me when I was pregnant. Or was I? I can't remember. You could hardly call it a "nighty," really. I mean, it wasn't some short sexy see-through thing you'd wear to be cheeky before sex. It was a nightgown. Like, prairie-style, all-the-way-to-the-floor, cotton with a ruffle at the bottom nightgown. It had those floral eyelets and was yellow. Light yellow, like sunshine. I guess that's the only reason I liked it, cuz like so many things in my life, even tho I hated it, I sorta kinda liked it, or at least I thought, "This works."

But I couldn't have been wearing that nighty, because this was before my daughter was born. Maybe it was while I was pregnant? But it couldn't have been while I was pregnant, because I never thought of leaving while I was pregnant. Okay, once. I did once. But that was when I was cowering on the floor in the kitchen because my ex (he was my husband then) had just glowered at me for not paying the cable bill. He glowered and scowled and was sullen a lot, over really insignificant things. But this anger was different. I hadn't really seen anger like this before. I felt like he was going to hit me over the head with a frying pan. I guess it's a good thing I don't really cook so there wasn't one readily available. He would have had to dig through the cabinets to find one and I would have had time to run.

So I guess I wasn't wearing that nighty, but maybe I was. It doesn't matter, really. But I associate that nighty with cleaning, because I wore it a lot to clean. And I cleaned a lot. That's what my mother taught me to do. Keep everything clean! Scrub away your sins. Dust out your frustrations. Sigh. Lots of heavy sighing. It's important. It's a release for you and it lets everyone around you know just how God damned put out you are for having to clean up after them. Fuckers. How dare you breathe?! Now I have to rearrange the dead skin particles you just unsettled! I am so unsettled! I AM UNSETTLED.

But anyway ... it was a bright sunny day. I remember because all of my memories were formed on bright sunny days. I don't pay attention to the other days. Or they make me feel dead inside. I'm not sure. But it was a bright, sunny day like so many Saturdays and I was cleaning the entertainment stand from Target. I loved that furniture. Dark brown wood and it matched the stand where I displayed the crystal bowls we got from our wedding. I was dusting the stand where I put the TV we got from my mom, actually *I* got from my mom, in college, the one my ex still uses today. He collects things from exes and lives off them, on them, fucking a 22-year-old on our marital bed the way I fucked him then on the marital bed he shared with his first wife. Funny. It's a pattern! It's discernible. If you're looking.

So where was I? Oh. The nighty. And the sunshine. Streaming through the front windows of the first house that ever felt like my home with the dark brown wood furniture from Target and the ugly crystal bowls that I didn't like but that I sort of liked because they worked. Dar Williams was playing. Spring Street, from The Green World. "Start over on Spring Street. I am welcome anytime."

I've always liked to listen to upbeat music while I clean. When I was a kid, it was the only thing that made me feel like I wasn't alone in my aloneness, having been left alone to scrub generations of demons out of the knick-knacks. I bought my mom all these bells. They were mostly ugly, but they worked. Some of them were really pretty, though. The glass ones, they were different colors, crystal, like the stupid useless bowls we got from our wedding. I'm not even friends anymore with the daughter of one of the women who bought us one of those bowls. I mean - WHO BUYS CRYSTAL BOWLS? You can't do anything with them. You can't use them. You just have to look at them and protect them but they don't give you anything. They don't help you. A crystal bowl will never be there when you need it to be. It's just stupid. But it works. If you like to just look at stuff that could break anytime.

So the glass bells were pretty. They were nice. They were red, orange, yellow, green and blue. I don't think there was a purple one cuz purple is the best and we couldn't afford it. My dad and I, when we went to get them at Argersinger's. We couldn't get them all cuz we couldn't afford it. But we got most of them. For my mom. It worked. As a gift. She never looked at them and just saw them as one more thing to dust. But they worked. She hates gifts. She hates birthdays. They make her sad. Because ever since her parents died they just haven't been the same. Her birthdays. After my grandparents shot themselves.

But anyway! Where was I? Oh! The bells were okay. I mean, let's face it. They were just okay. Everything we've ever owned has just been okay, but it works. Sort of. I mean, it's fine. SIGH. No, it's fine. Nothing's wrong. It's fine. Just. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE. IT'S FINE.

I'm fine.

Oh yeah. So, Spring Street. I was cleaning. In the nighty my mother bought me when I was pregnant or not cuz this was before that and I was thinner and wearing a cute t-shirt. Maybe a white one without a bra. I always thought that was kinda hot. I mean, cuz I have nice tits. I do! They work. They work really well. Except for feeding babies, and he glowered at me about that, too.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? he said. Because I couldn't breastfeed right. I had to switch to formula because my baby wasn't gaining enough weight. Because there was something wrong with me. So I had to switch to formula. Poison. It cost money. Breastfeeding was free. So I fucked up because I cost us money. MONEYYYYYYY. The only thing he ever sort of kind of loved. It worked. I mean, sort of. It could get you more shit that sort of kind of worked, anyway.

So, where was I? Oh! I was cleaning and the beautiful, melting sunlight was streaming in through the gorgeous tall windows of the only house I ever really felt like was a home because I made the walls purple and purple is the best color. We couldn't afford it - at least that's what he told me - but I went to the dollar store - El Mundo! - and I got the periwinkle curtains and I went to Target and I got the curtain rods with the periwinkle glass bulbs at the end because I love Target and the dark wood furniture they sell that you can put your crystal bowls on. The ones you give away after you get divorced. My friend Cecilia has one now in her entryway. It looks pretty there. It works.

I was dusting the entertainment stand because it was always very dusty. And I was dusting the stereo system because back then people had stereo systems and this one was even older because it was from his first marriage. So maybe it had her dead skin cells on it. I don't know. But I was rearranging her dead skin cells, mingling them with mine and the cat hair - they'd had a cat, too - it died and I know because that's the only email she ever sent after she left him - and I was listening to Dar Williams sing Spring Street.

Start over on Spring Street, I am welcome anytime.

The thing is, when you live in New York City, you are right there near Spring Street. I mean, we lived on 116th Street, but it was only a 30 minute ride to the East Village. And that's basically SoHo. And that's Spring Street. So I didn't have to leave. Just like Dar.

"And that's to say, yeah I'm leavin', but I don't have to go there. I don't have to go to Spring Street. Cuz it's Spring everywhere."

The sunshine was streaming in my windows in my house, the only house I'd ever really felt like was my home and I was cleaning it. I didn't have to go to Spring Street. I could stay right there. I knew I should go. But I wasn't ready. I needed to dust some more things. I needed to rub around a bit more in some dead skin cells belonging to someone else.

Me on Uinterview: Advice for Ashton and Demi

2011-11-16T12:50:00.005-05:00

Rumor had it that Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore were getting divorced after he cheated on her on the eve of their 6th wedding anniversary. Some say they're now trying to repair their marriage. I know how it is:

Mr. and Miss Matched

2011-11-09T11:36:00.005-05:00

My father was a man with many signature behaviors. He had an unmistakable laugh and gregarious nature that could penetrate even the hardest of hearts. He bore the brunt of his obsessive need to work, to do well at his work, to create work where there was none thanks to his unquenchable desire to groom and mold the physical world around him. But, perhaps most importantly, or at least most intimately, anyway - in the way that a daughter knows her father's intimate side - he had a habit of lallygagging around the house, on the few days he would allow himself to take a break from work, in the most ridiculous mismatched plaid pajama combos imaginable.

Even the couch cushions are plaid...

I'm not sure how it is that my dad acquired so many mismatched tops and bottoms, or why his loungewear collection consisted of nothing but plaid fleece, cotton stripes and bizarre prints (tractors, anyone?), all of which he liked to wear at the same time, if possible. But knowing my dad would be sitting at the head of the kitchen table reading the Sunday paper in one of these clown costumes on weekends when I came home to visit as an adult is one of the things I grew to rely on, to feel comforted by. It was a goofy tick of his that let me know that no matter how old I got, and even when I had my own child, I would always feel like a little girl around my dad.

Yes, the blanket is plaid. And I'm wearing my dad's bathrobe. It's plaid.

Adriana, trying to comprehend the perpetual, pervasive presence of plaid.

I lost my dad in 2008 to cancer, something I haven't really talked about excessively. I've mentioned it here and there, but not nearly to an extent representative of the gaping hole he left in my life. I'm not alone in feeling his absence, of course. My father was not only the head but also the heart of our family - and, given how much time he spent yelling, I suppose he was the lungs, too. I cry all the time when I think about my father, not just because I miss him, but because he was so great. Great, as in large, larger than life. In hindsight, I realize my father expended a lot of energy throughout his life compensating for his tiny stature with the size of his personality. He left such a giant mark on everyone he touched - even people who only met him once were changed by having interacted with him, and I'm really not exaggerating. If tiny women who pack a punch are referred to as firecrackers, my dad was a hand grenade, yelling hello at mailmen from across the street, waving and shouting friendly taunts at neighbors, tooting his horn at passersby. Every time a waitress walked up to him in a restaurant and asked, "What can I getcha?," he'd respond, "A million dollars and a day off to spend it." Inevitably, even if she was having a bad day, the server couldn't help but chuckle a bit, to feel relieved by my dad's easy presence.

And boy was he present, my dad, always living in the moment, always expressing exactly how he felt when he felt it. His capacity to feel empathy was enormous, which is probably why he took me in like I was his own child. Not only did my dad never make me feel like he was my step-dad (a term that wasn't even considered for use), he told me from day one that he was my Dad. With a capital D. I'll never forget that moment, right after my parents got married. My dad ran his carpentry business out of our house, and so the phone was always ringing, especially in the evening when people knew they might actually have a chance to talk to the elusive, charming, cantankerous Mike Castiglia, Builder. One night I answered a call - like I liked to do, since it made me feel important as a young child - and ran to the garage to tell my dad who was on the phone. I opened the door and called out, "Mike! It's for you!" My dad walked up the steps, slowly and deliberately, bent down to my eye level and said, "You can't call me Mike anymore, kid. You have to call me Dad now." Then he patted my head and I went back inside, transformed. I had a Dad, and I got to love him the way only little girls can love their fathers. I spent the rest of his life giving him unwanted kisses and hugs, never fully being able to say thank you for that.

My daughter is now about the same age I was when Mike became my dad, and though she hasn't seen her grandfather in almost four years, I hope she carries a vague memory of him with her. She must know his imprint on her DNA on some basic, spiritual level, because she certainly was channeling him through her sleepwear choices the other day, so much so that I had to take her picture. So here's to you, Dad, and your ridiculous pajamas. I miss you still and always will.

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episode 8: FINE and The Art of Brooklyn Film Festival

2011-08-05T16:37:00.005-04:00

Check out episodes 3, 5 and 8 of The Widow and the Divorcee at The Art of Brooklyn Film Festival this month! The festival runs from August 20-27 with a special preview and gallery show tonight at the St. Francis College Theatre starting at 6 pm. For the complete schedule and more details, visit The Art of Brooklyn site.

A brief glimpse inside the hate-filled mind of a con artist:

2011-08-04T16:00:00.007-04:00

My friend Kyria Lydia Abrahams, author of the very funny book, I'm Perfect, You're Doomed, just sent me a blog post she wrote titled, "Never have dinner with Susan Crain Bakos." Much to Susan Crain Bakos' dismay, I'm sure, I had never heard of Susan Crain Bakos, but a Google search tells me that she's the author of several books about sex, she's got a hard-on for black dudes (but it's not cuz she's ugly and white guys won't fuck her - which is not a racist assertion or anything) and that she hates to pay for lunch. Or dinner, so it seems.

Susan Crain Bakos is a con artist who has admitted to sticking several young women with the check after various meals meant to be networking meetings. (Bakos recently tried to make Kyria pay for a very expensive meal after a business meeting arranged at Bakos' request.) In a post on her Open Salon blog - which she has since tried to delete (as you can see in Google's cache) - Bakos writes, "I say I didn’t bring my wallet and hand [the check] over—usually to the woman who wants to “network” with me, i.e., she’s younger, full of herself, very ambitious in the sense of wanting to get somewhere fast and be somebody NOW but not in the old-fashioned sense of: Willing to work hard to get there." Bakos is a classic con, possibly a sociopath, who is filled with hatred toward the women she is taking advantage of, even as she admits that sometimes she needed money from these women when she found her "cash-flow constricted." (Here is a PDF of the post as it originally appeared. I will reference it throughout.)

Bakos' anger stems from the assumption that these women see her as a has-been, an "old achiever on way out," despite the fact that they "gush over her work" during dinner. I understand the tumultuous cycle of "self-loathing-turning-into-burning-hatred-for-anyone-who-loves-you-slash-all-humanity-on-a-base-level-catalyzing-more-self-loathing-which-in-turn-fuels-anger-against-every-asshole-out-there-who-thinks-they're-better-than-me" phenomenon very well, because I was in an intimate relationship with a man afflicted by it. The effect of a one-time con on a victim is very different than the effect of having a long-term relationship with a con artist, but either way, it's best to avoid these people altogether.

And that's what Kyria is suggesting young women do with Bakos - avoid her. "Beware, young up-and-coming female writers in New York! There is a raging 'Dine and Dasher' who is preying on women at some of the city's finest restaurants. She also happens to be a 60-year-old grandmother and a well-known sex columnist," Kyria writes. Bakos, like every other con artist, is hiding behind the public persona she has created. "But a well-known, accomplished and presumably financially solvent person has no reason to steal," we think. "Why would a grandmother take advantage of a young girl?," we are forced to ask ourselves. Simply for the thrill of it. That is all.

Bakos literally doesn't care about people, and views dealing with them - us - as a waste of time. We are pathetic, she is mighty. Bakos says of those who have accused her of victimizing them, "If I don’t care about people, I don’t care about what they think or write or say—even if I am the subject. Anonymous internet trolls and mean girls, snarky jealous people and the poor little marks who didn’t get all that free help they wanted? Time-wasters. Watching a syndicated episode of “Friends” is a better use of time than reading them." (One has to wonder who helped Bakos ascend from the bottom rung of the sex columnist ladder, but that's neither here nor there. Maybe she made it alone, masturbating the whole way.)

Bakos goes on in her post to examine her own sociopathic behavior, which proves to me that these people do have some level of self-awareness. She writes, "This check-dodging is relatively new behavior for me, a new category in a series of bad behaviors that is—at least I can say this much—declining in severity and intensity to the point where it is an errant stream, not a river sometimes overflowing its banks."

As Martha Stout revealed in The Sociopath Next Door, the lifestyle of a con artist is so taxing, eventually these people run out of steam. They just burn out. And this is where I have to say, in struggling for two years now with my own feelings about sociopathy and the people who are afflicted by it, despite everything I have been and continue to be subjected to as a result of the disease, I do have sympathy for these people. Not pity - pity is a sociopath's tool - but some level of compassion. I can only imagine how hard it is to live one's life in such a horribly burdensome way, to be filled with such sad rage and to feel a need to use whatever bit of power available to take others down. Frankly, that has to suck.

The worst part of sociopathy is that people are reticent to call it out and diagnose those who suffer from it, most especially mental health professionals. In fact, sociopathy isn't even listed in the DSM anymore, and is instead lumped in with Anti-Social Personality Disorder (euphemistic language, paging George Carlin!) along with psychopathy and a host of other afflictions. Some say the term sociopathy is being bandied about too much, that it is becoming part of the pop-psychology pantheon. That may be so, but as I see it, it's out of a need to recognize the many sociopaths and narcissists in our society, wreaking havoc in ways large and small.

In the Open Salon post about her recent cons, Bakos writes extensively about the different therapists she has seen and the various diagnoses and treatments she has received, pin-pointing just how important it is to research and diagnose these ASPDs and to get those that suffer from anti-social behavior - which is all of us in the end - the help they need. Bakos says:

For much of my life I have been struggling with psychological issues. Following a suicide attempt seven years ago that was very nearly successful, I began hearing a new diagnosis from a succession of therapists. Programs run out; new ones open up; everybody has their own diagnosis and treatment concept; nobody ever put me on drugs which should have been a clue to Borderline. When I was out of those options, I saw a semi-retired therapist who had a sliding fee scale fee. I paid her in lump sums when writing checks came in. Some therapists said Borderline Personality Disorder; others did not. My first therapist following the attempt labeled it “reactionary depression to a series of life setbacks.” My current therapist, an expert in the field of personality disorders, describes me as “on the borderline of Borderline,” not quite putting me in, not quite taking me out. (“BPD is an umbrella term, covering a range of symptoms and behaviors, manifested differently in each sufferer; and in the majority, the symptoms are treatable, the behaviors can be changed but it takes time which is why insurers go for the ‘untreatable’ label*.”) Her treatment plan includes dialectical talk therapy and Buddhist meditation. (Google the research, people. It works for many of us.) Brain scans prove that Buddhist monks have been able to change their brain patterns through meditation. And brain scans of Borderlines also show abnormalities in certain regions of the brain**.

*sociopathy is considered untreatable as well
**sociopaths and psychopaths show brain abnormalities, too

Miraculously, really, for those of us that have been involved with con artists, Bakos describes exactly what goes on in the mind of a con and details the aforementioned roller-coaster of self-loathing attached to conning someone.

Bakos on identifying a mark:

We are street hustlers, small players for petty cash or the equivalent. A hustler or a con artist works on the same basic knowledge of human nature: The greedy, the self-involved, the dreamer with a romantic vision of her future success that doesn’t include a trail of blood, sweat and tears—he and she can be conned and hustled. It takes but a tiny amount of leverage to use that greed or lust for fame against her.

Bakos on how it feels to pull a con:

Applying the leverage, pulling the hustle, feels good at the time—really a high—but awful afterward. I imagine binging/purging must feel like this in the mind and soul. Or shoplifting.

Bakos on the turmoil cons experience:

I am trying to understand and explain the behavior—and recognize the trigger points, usually major life events out of my control—to stop it because Jesus is not there for me (but Buddha is.) Looking back, I see that I risked months, years of stability and happiness on a big gamble (or, in this case, in little crimes) that let out some of the emotion, like blood-letting. The street hustle as pressure valve.

Bakos ends her post with an anecdote about a friend, a fellow con who "has done it for the same reasons I did: for the high and out of contempt for the mark." She adds, "There’s a lesson here for you too: If you go out looking for a free lunch, you will probably get a check, payable now in your case, or later with interest in mine."

That last part is revealing, to say the least. Bakos' cons have taken a toll on her, clearly. But what about those girls who didn't go out looking for a free lunch, like my friend Kyria? Kyria says that Bakos contacted her about meeting, not the other way around. Kyria writes, "You contacted me first and claimed that you had a business opportunity.... you lied and said that you needed me to take photos for an article you are writing for Playboy.... I told you I wasn't hungry (to be kind, I had eaten before the restaurant) but you INSISTED we order huge swathes of food, telling me multiple times 'It's on me.'"

It seems there is no way to rationalize that type of victimization, even through a lens of contempt for a ruthless up-and-comer unwilling to pay her dues. Bakos' con against Kyria doesn't fit that mold; Kyria wasn't trying to get anything from Bakos. In this instance, Bakos is just another sharky female looking for a free meal - exactly what she accuses others of being. Funny.

Since I'm not a psychologist, I can't diagnose Bakos or anyone else as a sociopath (and, thanks to the current DSM, neither can psychologists anymore, which is a problem), but I know the signs of a con artist - and so should you. Good luck out there, ladies. Don't forget your wallet.

Weiner's weiner!

2011-05-31T23:45:00.002-04:00

Originally posted on Babble:

In case you haven't heard, Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY) said this weekend that his Twitter account had been hacked Friday night. Whoever the prankster was that broke into his account, Weiner argued, sent a lewd photo to a 21-year-old college student in Seattle. (The photo isn't really that lewd if you ask me, since whoever took the photo was wearing underwear. The weiner in the pic - which is linked after the jump - is bigger than Jane Pratt's huge boobs, tho.)

The tweet and photo in question were deleted almost immediately, reportedly before the college student even saw them. The photo was allegedly sent in response to a tweet by the student, Gennette Cordova, which read, "I wonder what my boyfriend @RepWeiner is up to right now," the Washington Post reports. New York magazine adds, "Some right-wing bloggers are asserting that the photo might be evidence that Weiner is having an affair. Those bloggers note that, on Friday, Weiner tweeted about what time he'll appear on Rachel Maddow, saying, #That's5:45inSeattleIThink," implying that Weiner and the student may have been in close contact, a suggestion she vehemently denies.

Weiner got snippy with reporters today for questioning him about the so-called Weinergate, and he has hired a lawyer, a move which some see as an admission of guilt. It's hard to tell whether or not this incident was planned and executed by conservatives or was actually a misappropriation of fun on the part of Weiner. One thing's for sure, though: Anthony Weiner has a problem... flirting with high school and college girls.

Alexandra Petri of the Washington Post notes that "of the 200 people @RepWeiner follows on Twitter, a surprising number (well, more than zero, at any rate) do seem to be what might be termed nubile out-of-state houris." Conservative blogs are having a field day with the fact that "Weiner’s Twitter Friends Include Pages of Young Luscious Fans," posting photos of some of the women Weiner has followed on Twitter. (One of the girls is in high school.) The blog The Prudence Paine Papers has screenshots of tweets sent by a porn star indicating that Weiner had sent her a Direct Message. According to Paine, Weiner has also had contact with more than one high school girl on Twitter. She writes, "@Starchild111 was a high school girl who was trying to get Weiner to be her prom date. She was overjoyed when he followed her, upset when conservatives laughed that Weiner was trolling the school yard, and dismayed when he unfollowed her. Starchild has deleted her twitter account."

The bottom line is, as many bloggers have noted, it would be easy to see who posted the questionable photo - just look up the IP address of the computer it was sent from. If the photo really was sent by Weiner, clearly his career is over. Even if the photo wasn't sent by Weiner, all this scrutiny of his Twitter account is revealing an undesirable side of the Representative. We'll know soon enough how badly this has damaged his reputation. In the meantime, here's the photo for those of you who want to see it. Parents: let this be a two-fold lesson. First, remind your children to NEVER TAKE COMPROMISING PHOTOS OF THEMSELVES! Never, never, never! It always ends poorly. Second, be sure you're monitoring your children's online activity. You never know when one of them is going to fall in love with a member of Congress.

Please Pardon Our Dust

2011-05-05T13:58:00.001-04:00

I'm working on a new website, so in the meantime, why don't you try my YouTube channel?

XO,

The Management

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episodes 5, 6 and 7

2011-05-05T13:51:00.001-04:00

Say It

2011-03-07T23:28:00.003-05:00

I've listened to so many interviews and so much material done by the beautiful comedian Mike DeStefano, who died last night, and I have to say, I can't help but realize that though I sympathize with so much of what I'm hearing, so much of needing to share a part of myself, so much of being human, so much of what so many of these comics are saying... feeling like despite the fact that these men are speaking to my heart, I am on the outside of all of this praise and understanding because I'm female.

And that makes me really fucking sad.

Because I believe that the comedy that I have to share is rooted in the same pain that these men have felt. The depth of my experience as a human is the same as what Mike DeStefano/Greg Giraldo/Marc Maron have been through.

Here's a quote from Maron's WTF podcast with DeStefano that, perhaps ironically, speaks to exactly what I'm talking about:

Mike D: I wanna make people laugh, but I want people to know that they're not alone with suffering. That they can survive anything. I believe that I've been to the point where there is the worst part of life. At that moment when you're told you're gonna die.... I'm gonna die? Not only are you gonna die, you're gonna be shamed.... I know what it feels like to suffer. I love when a black dude or a gay comic says, "You don't know what it's like motherfucker." I do know what it's like. I know I'm not black, here's what my pain is, isn't it the same? Your pain is the same as mine. It's not like you can't relate to me because I'm talking about a certain type of disease. We all relate.

Maron: The menu of suffering is very small when it comes just down to the frequency of suffering. It's a frequency that runs all through human life because of our self-awareness.

And yet why do I feel excluded from this frequency, then? Why do I feel like, as these guys that so many comedians - myself included - look up to, aren't thinking of the suffering of women at all when they discuss their pain? Aren't thinking of women who do comedy at all when they think about the great communicators who "get this shit." Trust me, I get this shit, fellas. I get it.

I'm not trying to use Mike's death as a way to draw focus to any other issue, I'm just saying. We're here, too. And I think I speak on behalf of every fucking person with a vagina who tells jokes when I say: trust us, we fucking get it. We want to be part of this brotherhood, too.

Is It Retarded to Say Retarded?

2011-03-03T15:15:00.003-05:00

What's that? An article I wrote for the brilliant comedy blog Splitsider featured on their masthead? Oh, okay, cool. I thought so.

Click to read my piece, Should "Retarded" Be Retired from the Comedic Lexicon? It's even getting nice comments!

grovberg I really enjoyed this piece. Nicely written.

Why thank you, grovberg. I'll have to agree.

The Widow and The Divorcee, Episode 4: Rehab

2011-02-04T21:47:00.002-05:00

Charlie Sheen entered rehab for the umpteenth time this week after being hospitalized for stomach pains induced by a 36-hour bender/porno party. At that party, Sheen was photographed revealing a mouth full of busted up gold teeth, leaving everyone to assume Sheen's drug/drinking habits have destroyed his chompers. Everyone, that is, except my mother - the world's biggest Two and a Half Men fan - who was truly astonished at the announcement of Sheen's break from the show.

The Widow and The Divorcee - Episodes 2 and 3

2011-02-04T00:44:00.003-05:00

Greetings, friends! So far, my new daily video project, "The Widow and the Divorcee" is off to an amazing start. Each episode is under 3 minutes long, so check out episodes 2 and 3, below... plus my mom's reaction to my impression of her.

Also! I've joined the modern era and redesigned my YouTube channel. It looks pretty rad if I do say so myself. Go check it out, won't you! I've categorized all my work into 3 playlists: The Widow and The Divorcee, Hip-Hop Hooray (featuring all my music vidz, Key of Awesome stuff and live freestyle clips) and Carolyn Castiglia Stand-Up and Sketch. Feel free to watch away!

Remember: what a difference a day makes!

The Widow and The Divorcee - Episode 1: Caliphate

2011-02-01T22:53:00.004-05:00

Today, Glenn Beck told America that the rest of the world is on fire and that the Middle East will soon be one giant Islamic caliphate.

From Media Matters:

I believe that I can make a case in the end that there are three powers that you will see really emerge. One, a Muslim caliphate that controls the Mideast and parts of Europe. Two, China, that will control Asia, the southern half of Africa, part of the Middle East, Australia, maybe New Zealand, and God only knows what else. And Russia, which will control all of the old former Soviet Union bloc, plus maybe the Netherlands. I'm not really sure. But their strong arm is coming. That leaves us and South America. What happens to us?

Ha. I love that The Netherlands winds up as Russia's afterthought. If you haven't seen footage of his performance, go here to watch it. But before you do, watch the first episode of The Widow and The Divorcee, a new short video series starring me as myself and me as my mother, inspired by real conversations between the two of us, a widow and a divorcee.

Look for another episode tomorrow! Remember: what a difference a day makes.

Rape and Wikileaks: Strange Bedfellows

2010-12-20T14:26:00.009-05:00

I've been meaning to write a post about Julian Assange for a while, but #1 I haven't had the time, and #2, I wasn't sure I had enough information to speak about the whole situation without sounding like an idiot. I've come across a few articles and tweets and Twitter campaigns, even, in the last few days, though, that make me feel like it's finally time to join those that are writing/talking about what all has gone down in support of both the freedom of information and rape accusers. In other words, in support of the truth.

So here's the deal. When the news about Wikileaks first broke, I didn't understand the significance of the story. I mean, I understood that the story was significant, but I couldn't decipher - like most people, I think - whether or not what Wikileaks is doing by releasing government cables was harmful or helpful. I've come to understand that it's helpful, courtesy of Arianna Huffington's insightful post recapping the recent Symposium on WikiLeaks and Internet Freedom at which she spoke. In it she makes three key points:

1. "Too much of the coverage has been meta -- focusing on questions about whether the leaks were justified, while too little has dealt with the details of what has actually been revealed and what those revelations say about the wisdom of our ongoing effort in Afghanistan...."

2. "Nobody, including WikiLeaks, is promoting the idea that government should exist in total transparency, or that, for instance, all government meetings should be live-streamed and cameras placed around the White House like a DC-based spin-off of Big Brother...."

3. "A final aspect of the story is Julian Assange himself. Is he a visionary? Is he an anarchist? Is he a jerk? This is fun speculation, but why does it have an impact on the value of the WikiLeaks revelations?"

Taking into consideration points one and two (and reading the entire article) helped me see the value of Assange as a whistleblower. But to Huffington's third point, I have to say, "jerk" is putting it mildly.

Julian Assange has been accused of rape, something the title of Huffington's post tries to dismiss. "The Media Gets It Wrong on WikiLeaks: It's About Broken Trust, Not Broken Condoms" is her way of "disconflating" the identities of Assange as rapist and rogue. I understand the sentiment, but it's much better expressed by Twitter user FeministHulk:

AS SURVIVOR, HULK DISTURBED BY ASSANGE COVERAGE. HULK GLAD WIKILEAKS EXIST. HULK SMASH RAPE SHAME. AT SAME TIME. - via PopWatch

Granted, it was unclear based on initial media coverage of the incident what exactly Assange was being charged with in Sweden. On December 7, Jezebel published a great post about the generic "sex by surprise" concept, stating that if Assange had sex with a woman without using a condom when he was explicitly asked to use one, that qualifies as rape. (I agree.) That same day, The Guardian revealed that Assange had never been charged with "sex by surprise." His case was never about a broken or missing condom, but rather it was alleged, as Jezebel discussed on December 10, that he "held one woman down using his body weight to sexually assault her and that he raped another woman while she was sleeping."

Huffington wrote her post using the broken condom angle five days later, on December 15.

I expect better from the likes of Arianna Huffington, and feminist bloggers around the web are demanding respect for rape accusers from fellow media celebs Keith Olbermann and Michael Moore. Moore appeared on Olbermann's show on December 14, calling the rape charges against Assange "hooey" and reinforcing the erroneous idea that Assange faced the charge "that his condom broke during consensual sex." Again, it had been made clear a week prior that Assange was in fact being accused of rape, and as I just found out, apparently hasn't been officially charged with anything. The tag #mooreandme is being used on Twitter to urge Olbermann to correct Michael Moore's obfuscation of the truth. Sady Doyle, who started the online protest, has done an excellent job of pointing out that Moore is a professional truth-seeker, so his hypocrisy here is flabbergasting. Which is why I'm writing this post. Because I want to ask:

Why does the truth not matter when it comes to the victimization of women?

Why? Women suffer day in and day out at the hands of men who lie, cheat, manipulate and steal. I've seen it. I've experienced it. How is that okay? Why is it still acceptable? Asking these questions isn't about hating men - it's about loving women. I don't understand. I don't. All over Twitter you see statements like:

"Washing one's hands of the conflict between the powerful & powerless is to side w/the powerful, not to be neutral" - Paulo Friere

@KeithOlbermann You failed. By spreading lies and holding women up for public mockery, you contribute to the shaming of victims.

"DO NOT SMEAR PEOPLE WHO REPORT RAPE" is not "ZOMIGOD ASSANGE IS GUILTY!" Really not hard.

Here's the kicker: neither Michael Moore nor Keith Olbermann have come out to correct the misinformation that they both helped spread on December 14. Instead, Olbermann has continued to do harm to Assange's accusers by linking to an article that reveals their identities. Meanwhile, Moore proved this week that he does in fact read The Guardian, but only when it's convenient to him. He didn't read their article about the accusations against Assange, but he was emphatic that they correct a post about - guess what? - a cable published by Wikileaks that had to do with the popularity of his film Sicko in Cuba. (Moore's link to the original Guardian post brings up an error message, but the corrected post, which The Guardian took pains to Tweet at Moore, is here.)

So let me get this straight. What is important to Michael Moore is that people know his film was praised by the Cuban government and beloved by the Cuban people. What is not important to Michael Moore is the safety of two women who were possibly raped by a man who - I will come right out and say it - has the luxury of hiding behind his pseudo-righteousness as a "truth-seeker."

What is the truth here? These three men - Assange, Olbermann and Moore - these supposedly righteous men, speaking out against the abuses of the U.S. government, leaking cables, making documentaries about our shitty healthcare system, speaking truth to power. Let me give you a taste of your own medicine:

None of you give a fuck about women. Fuck all three of you. Fuck you.

That's real truth to power.

Live-Blogging the Great Present-Wrapping Marathon of 2010

2010-12-18T23:16:00.011-05:00

Wrapping some presents for early Christmas. Adriana is going to her Dad's for the day itself, so we're having a family celebration tomorrow. I've decided to give her some presents from me to open, then have Santa come Christmas Eve morning before we drop her off. That way, I can tell her ours is the first house he stopped at on his trip around the world. (Yes, we're that important. Or, rather, I want my kid to feel that special.)

Looking at the things I bought, I felt really compelled to write them down. There's something particular about the presents you get a kid each year of their life, and I feel like this year's crop really captures the essence of what being 5 is all about.

The first box I wrapped contains:

Snoopy t-shirt

Paul Frank 7 pack Days of the Week undies

Hello Kitty hair clips

Aces. I'm really good at buying gifts, probably because I really enjoy it. I'd so much rather watch Adriana open a present than get one myself.

I wrapped some ZhuZhu Pets for my mom, when suddenly Adriana had a night terror. I went into her room and stood over her bed, praying like I always do when that happens. "Dear God, make it stop. Let my daughter know she is loved. Let her stop crying, Lord." Thankfully, it was pretty short and not too intense. The last time she had one, a few months ago, I think, she called out for me and I was standing right next to her. "Mommy! Mommy!" It's much worse on the parent than the child, so I'm told. I sure hope so. There's nothing more heartbreaking than not being able to reassure a child who is literally reaching out for you in a blind stupor of sleep. Well, maybe one thing is worse: having to swallow the bitter pill that if you talk to them or touch them while they're in the midst of terror-ing, you'll only make it worse. Every parent learns that the hard way. If you've stumbled across this post while Googling "night terrors," don't worry. They are very common in pre-schoolers and wane over time. My professional advice? Take some deep breaths and have a drink. It won't make you feel better about the night terror, but it will at least change the subject.

Back to presents:

Folding Llama Llama Holiday Drama and a Curious George matching game up together. I'm so glad Adriana still likes George. As we watched Curious George: A Very Monkey Christmas last night, I felt so at peace being able to still enjoy a remnant of her babyhood. Parenting is such a paradox: we urge our children to grow up and be independent, then we don't understand why they put on adult airs at 10. I want my daughter to learn and grow, but I want her to keep her innocence as long as possible, and to shed it only gradually and when absolutely necessary. When she's 21.

Boxed up some amazing Nick and Nora designer PJs from Target. Flannel, rad owl design in purple/green/orange/gold 70s tones and an unbelievable army green pirate map/ship themed pair. So proud of the non-traditional gifts I picked this year. Just a few, but they make a statement, I think. She's got tons of pink and purple and I'll never stop buying her that stuff, but my kid loves pirates, and I can't wait to watch her go ape shit over these pajamas that are probably meant for boys but oh well.

Just got a nice email from a friend. How sweet. Glass is almost empty as I listen to Sarah McLachlan sing about exactly that. About to wrap some clothes: a purple and grey checked tunic, purple cable-knit hooded zipped cardigan and.... drum-roll please... a grey and hot pink fur-lined shrug. What?! I'm a cool mom, I get it. I may have lost all my own cool, trading it in for cool mom, but I don't think so, actually. I've gotten soooooo much better with age, and certainly with, um, experience (to put it kindly). What I mean is, I like being a single mother. It forces me to be the best version of myself, which is like a low-rent version of people who really know what they're doing.

Which brings me to a point I've been thinking of making here on this public diary to myself: my life is exactly where I want it to be for the first time ever. So enjoy that, me!

Shrug is too thick and needs its own box. Don't know what I'm gonna do cuz I don't have a box! Will wrap purple goods and think on it. Must have another egg nog...

Okay, it's not really egg nog. It's a vanilla Bailey's martini. Except it's not made with Bailey's, it's made with Brady's. Why? Because my family is bootleg, son, and this booze is leftover from Thanksgiving. I've never been the type to keep actual liquor in the house, but I have to say, this holiday treat is hittin' the spot, and has made present-wrapping a lot easier. When I sat down (19 hours ago) to wrap all of these gifts, I felt a little ornery. My iTunes wasn't working (because I've never used it before because I'm a neanderthal who drinks Brady's) and then Sarah McLachlan's calm voice just felt like it was taunting me. "Ooooh, look at me, I'm so relaxed. You have all these presents to wrap with shitty dollar store wrapping paper while I get to just sit here and barf all over the keys..."

Anyway - what about this shrug?! I think I'm gonna look downstairs for a box. Hang on...

HO-OOOOOH! GUESS WHO JUST FOUND A MUTHA FLUFFIN' BOX??????????? And it doesn't even need to be wrapped because it's the kind with a weird fake watercolor painting of Santa on it. What?!

OMG the ice in my drink just snapped in celebration and scared the shit out of me. Okay. Shrug in box. Moving on.

Sarah's singing What Child is This and River, two songs I sang to Adriana tonight at bedtime. Typically she sings with me and then says goodnight, still awake when I leave her room, but for the past two nights she's fallen asleep to the sound of my voice, which is such an honor as a mother. Feeling like you have the power to sing your kid to sleep is pretty amazing, as if it hearkens her back to hearing my voice in the womb or something.

I am such a sentimental idiot. I can't tell you how often I think, "That - among several other excellent reasons - is exactly why someone should be falling head over heels in love with me right now." And yet, and yet... I honestly don't know if I have any interest in love. My relationship with my daughter is the best one I've had so far on this Earth. I'm not so sure I should be looking to supplant it. Not that a boyfriend would do that, you know, I'm just sayin'. Maybe we can only experience one great love at a time. I mean, after all, most people aren't into polyamory for a reason. It's jealousy-inducing, and a man isn't gonna put up with being jealous of my kid, and I would never subject my kid to being jealous of a man in my life. My friend John (who sent me the aforementioned email) wrote a nice blog post about that on Strollerderby recently, about his step-daughter giving him permission to marry her mom. Aww.

Okay - bagged some boots, along with a hat and gloves, stockings, sort of a random bag for Adriana. And now it's stocking stuffing time! Adriana has shown a particular interest in stockings this year, so I decided to get some small things and fill the old stockings my Dad used to hang for us when we were kids. I just remembered that throughout my childhood some of the best presents I ever got were in my stocking - which is the perfect size for a jewelry box. I didn't get Adriana any jewelry this year - she has plenty, and all of it is probably toxic, anyway. Instead, my mother got her some lotion and lip gloss (formerly known as mip mop) and I bought her some gumballs for her gumball machine, some matchbox cars, a Christmas rubber duckie and a teeny bit of candy. The best part is, now my niece is getting a stocking, too!

Making ornaments now. Or, rather, adding photos to the ornaments Adriana and I already made.

Today we finished our Christmas crafting by decorating a Santa that allowed me to teach her an alternate meaning of the word fierce:

Do you see those gems? The glitter? Fierce! Hey Santa - feel free to ask and tell - you've earned it!

Okay, the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care - literally, and almost every gift is wrapped, except the one for my niece. The ornaments are made. Let me wrap this last present and set it in place!

After all that, it sort of looks like nothing in this photo. A few boxes underneath a Charlie Brown tree. But what they represent are joy, hope, self-reliance, love, resilience and a sacred bond that is irreplaceable, between mother and daughter, siblings, aunts and nieces, Grandmother and Granddaughter, cousins, family. You can't really package that.

Merry Christmas to you and yours from me and mines.

XO,
ckc

How the Gawker Christine O'Donnell Expose Hits Below the Belt

2010-10-29T21:32:00.001-04:00

In case you haven't heard, Gawker posted an anonymous account yesterday of a one-night-stand Senate candidate Christine O'Donnell had with a then 25-year-old Philadelphia boy. I say boy, because no self-respecting man would disgrace himself by sharing the (apparently) hairy details of one Ms. O'Donnell's baby-making region with the world, no matter his political convictions.

In his account, this ~~spineless~~ anonymous "journalist" describes O'Donnell as a "cougar" and "aggressive." He claims he "won't get into the nitty gritty details of what happened between the sheets that evening," and then - unbelievably, in less than two very short paragraphs - describes O'Donnell's unwaxed lady-parts as "a big turnoff."

And for what? Because he hopes she won't get elected on Tuesday? Sure, she doesn't know anything about the constitution. Do I agree with her political beliefs? Not at all. But I sure do believe in a woman's right to choose... to sleep with another consenting adult and expect the intimate details of that encounter to remain private.

This letter, published by Gawker, is conspiratorial, institutionalized bullying and should not be condoned by anyone, anywhere on the political spectrum. If we liberals expect that social and religious conservatives will stop perpetuating the kind of homophobia that is killing gay kids, we need to act in kind and not publicly mock a female political candidate for what she chooses to do behind closed doors. This is exactly the kind of insane violation of privacy that drove Tyler Clementi to kill himself, and don't kid yourself if you think it's not. I have no doubt O'Donnell will take this ego bruise in stride; one thing I'll say for Republicans - they're not cry-babies like most Dems.

According to a response to the post from the O'Donnell camp, "The National Organization for Women (NOW) on Thursday condemned the tabloid website Gawker for publishing an anonymous account: NOW issued a statement late Thursday stating that 'sexist, misogynist attacks against women have no place in the electoral process, regardless of a particular candidate's political ideology'." Exactly. What more is there to say?

This: the web was up in arms when Duke University student Karen Owen violated the privacy of several young men that she slept with during her tenure there by revealing what was going on in their underpants. I certainly hope that the "liberal media" and pinko blogosphere will show the same courtesy to Ms. O'Donnell, even if she is a hypocrite. I think it's time we all agree to play above the belt.

Who's That Chick Singing the Hook? Or, Why Are Women Still Second Class Citizens in Comedy?

2010-10-15T14:38:00.005-04:00

"I don't know what they want from me, it's like the less money we come across, the more problems we see."

That's a lyric I sing at the end of "Less Money Mo Problems," one of the many great tracks off the new TMC compilation album, "Get Rich or Move Back in With My Dad," recently reviewed by The Onion's A.V. Club.

The lyric mentioned above is clearly a spoof of the lyric, "I don't know what they want from me, it's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see," originally sung by Kelly Price in Notorious B.I.G.'s posthumously released hit, "Mo Money Mo Problems."

Chances are, even if you're not a fan of hip-hop, you've at least heard the name Notorious B.I.G. (right Mom?). But who, on the other hand, is Kelly Price? As it happens, Kelly Price has been nominated for three Grammy awards and one American Music Award, and yet I'd never heard her name until I looked her up. Understandably so, since Mo Money Mo Problems was by far the most popular recording she's been a part of - it stayed at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart for two weeks in '97 - but no where is Kelly Price mentioned in the track's byline. The official song title on the cover of the single reads, "Notorious B.I.G., Mo Money Mo Problems, Featuring Puff Daddy and Mase."

Today, I feel like Kelly Price - and not just because I stand-in for her on TMC's parody track. But because in the A.V. Club's review of the album, not only are the women who rap on the album not mentioned by name (and there are only two of us), I'm not even mentioned by name when a lyric that I wrote and performed is quoted and vaulted as a "clever... pertinent bit." Take a look:

Good hip-hop tracks need collaborators, and Get Rich Or Move Back In With My Dad features appearances by Snakes, Hannibal Buress, Joe DeRosa, Rob Cantrell, and Aisha Tyler, among many others. McCaffrey enlists them to help tackle worn comedy topics, creating songs about hack stand-up material, working as a headliner, and a lack of cash. McCaffrey is clever and well-versed in comedy, packing a track about joke-stealing with names and pertinent bits. (“I robbed Jim Gaffigan of his last Hot Pocket”; “Ripped the tattoos off Janeane Garofalo.”) He’s also managed to mock rap from the inside—Get Rich is rife with inflated grandeur and jokes about how sampling “Wonderwall” automatically makes a song a hit.

The "track about joke-stealing" is called "How to Rob Comics" - and my lyric is "ripped the tattoos off Janeane Garofalo." "How to Rob" is the first rap song McCaffrey ever recorded - and one that features just he and I. The song idea was Tom's, but we each wrote our own verses, Tom wrote the lyrics to the chorus that I sang in the original video, which you can see here, thanks to Andy Stuckey. (The original track was produced by Soce the Elemental Wizard.) I wrote and sang the lyrics to the chorus on the re-vamped track released on the disc (recorded by Andy Barlow).

Before I continue, let me first say that Tom deserves mad props for this album, given that he co-wrote and recorded 12 songs in less than 2 years, filming videos for many of them and originating lots of the song concepts. I'm extraordinarily proud of Tom as a friend, collaborator and fellow performer because not only has he shown immense dedication, creativity and tenacity in this process, he risked both mockery and his pocketbook to bring this album to life. I'm elated to be a part of what he lovingly refers to as his "mid-life crisis."

That said, I appear on six of the 12 tracks, two of which are heralded in this review, so I don't think it's at all unreasonable to hope (and frankly, expect) that my name be mentioned by the reviewer, especially when quoting my lyric. I don't think Steve Heisler's oversight in excluding me (or Mara Herron - who is pictured - or the other guys on the album, for that matter) was intentional or malicious. We've all been listed as the "and more!" on a comedy show bill from time to time. That's not the worst thing in the world. But not attaching my name to my lyric is like not crediting a joke or a photo, and that's just bad form. Accidental bad form, no doubt. But it reinforces the fact that funny women - even when we're right in front of you - remain largely invisible.

Which brings me to the broader problem of "women in comedy," a subject I both love and loathe to get into, for fairly obvious reasons. 1.) I'm a woman and I do comedy, so I enjoy talking about our place in comedy as a sex, both in the ways which we stand out as a group, the ways in which we're individuals with varying styles and aims and the ways in which the pursuit of this branch of the entertainment industry is more difficult for us to climb. 2.) For all the reasons I just mentioned, I hate talking about "women in comedy" because it's like talking about women/blacks/gays/etc. in anything - it can be precarious to lump an oppressed group of people together and keep everyone in that little boat of oppression happily afloat. Also, you shouldn't do it cuz boys might think you're annoying, right? (Tee-hee, hair twist, pathetic puppy look, tits out, rim shot.)

Much has been said and written about the inequities faced by women pursuing comedy careers, and I don't want to re-hash all of that here and now. What I do want to say is this:

Those of you who've seen me perform comedy regularly over the last nearly eight years know that what I do is more than stand-up. Which is not meant to imply that what I do is "greater" or "better" than stand-up, but literally that my entertainment package encompasses more than joke-telling. I love stand-up; I love doing it, I love watching it, I love continually trying to master the art form. All joke-tellers are junkies in that sense. But I also love telling stories, doing characters and being musical, which in my case, most of the time, means performing funny hip-hop, either on the tracks I've done with Tom and others or via a freestyle. It's what I'm known for - something that sets me apart. And if I can't get credited for doing precisely what is unique to me, despite having appeared on both ego trip hip-hop shows on VH1 and on Comedy Central specifically as my hip-hop persona Miss CKC, then how am I ever going to get a Live at Gotham or (eventually) a Presents?

I ran into the great Kristen Schaal not too long ago and I was telling her how I was psyched that two funny music videos I'm in had been played on Comedy Central's Atom TV, saying, "I feel like I got in through the back door." She replied, "That's the only way to get in."

If you haven't read New York Magazine's interview with Kristen, you should. In it, she talks about being a woman on The Daily Show, saying, "I talk about women’s issues. It’s a really difficult topic because women’s issues is not in the news very often. It’s sort of a male-dominated world, to put it delicately.... It’s a hard job, but it’s work I’m really proud of and I hope I get to continue doing it."

NYM's Mina Hochberg goes on to ask, "What do you feel is the most constructive way to address the disparity between the number of men and women in comedy?" Kristen's thoughtful response? "To keep talking about it, definitely. I think more support for the women that are in comedy would be good. Giving props to people that are doing it right now, getting behind what they’re doing. Keep bringing it up in different places and definitely do that fight, but don’t tear each other down while you’re doing it because then you’ve got nothing left."

I'm certainly not here to tear other women (or men, for that matter) down, but rather to build up myself and other women who seem to be overlooked. These are women I have known and worked with for about 5 years - longer in some cases, shorter in a few - and who are out night after night, week after week doing amazing work in comedy rooms and in the following online videos. Please enjoy them as much as I do.

First things first! I'm not the only woman who was unfortunately not named despite appearing in The Onion's monthly comedy column, Laugh Track. Though Steve Heisler was right on the money to shout-out my bros, Snakes, he made a boo-boo by neglecting to holler at our girl Chloe Wepper - who not only sings her face off on their track, "Top Dolla (My Dad's a Proctologist)," but is truly hilarious while doing it.

Other female New York comedians who might tickle your fancy? Let's start with Ann Carr, whose recent turn as Louis C.K.'s babysitter on his eponymous show, "Louie," was brilliant. Here she is in the third episode of her web-series, "The Actress," co-written by Warren Holstein and co-starring Christina Gausas (The Office) and Tom Shillue (Comedy Central Presents).

Next up, Livia Scott! Livia has been making web videos for the last year on absolutely no budget, but using tons of imagination. They're all remarkable, but this one is probably my absolute favorite. It's NSFW, but I guarantee it'll make you bust a gut.

How about a little Giulia Rozzi? Giulia's "Message Board" video series is always great, but this episode about the depression some brides feel after their wedding has passed is not only super funny, but also a scathing criticism of America's obsession with "holy" matrimony.

Shayna Ferm is one of my favorite comedic musicians and is certainly "under-the-radar," to quote The Onion. Not only does she have a voice to die for and impeccable timing, but she's an extraordinarily gifted writer. She co-wrote (with Katherine Bryant Flaherty - another amazing talent) and co-stars in "Grease 3: Threase," currently running at The PIT. Here's a song she and I performed together at Moonwork last Spring, called "Marriage is for Fags."

Did I mention that Shayna is also like 8 months pregnant - and was pregnant when we filmed this vid? And that I have a 5-year-old? Yeah.

But enough about me! On to Jessica Delfino, the Queen of Dirty Folk Rock and other genres. This animation by Nick Fox-Gieg to her song "I Wanna Be Famous" has over one million views on YouTube - and the lyrics speak for themselves.

And now, Mindy Raf, who you may know as Leibya Rogers. Mindy has made a slew of rad vidz as herself and as her uber-feminist alter ego, but I think it most fitting to post her O.G. Ani Difranco tribute, "Leibya Spells Freedom," performed live at last year's ECNY Awards. (After all, she's a full time changer of souls - you're welcome.)

Eliza Skinner, member of musical improv group Baby Wants Candy and host of comedic freestyle battle The BEATdown with my pal Shockwave at UCB, blows the roof off the joint with her Tyler Perry audition tape. Take a look:

Finally - because this list could go on for days but this is the Internet and I probably lost you already - we've come to Desiree Burch. Desiree is the brilliant mind behind the show 52 Man Pickup, in which she plays a clever card game with the audience as she reveals the salacious details of all of her sexual encounters. She's also a New York Neo-Futurist; you can see her every weekend in their show Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind at The Kraine Theatre. Here she is as Jill, roommate to Michael Cyril Creighton of Jack In a Box fame. (Jack in a Box just won Best Web Series at the New York Television Festival.)

I could go on, but I won't. I'll let the talent displayed in these videos speak for me. Here's to all of us walking in through the front door, ladies.

UPDATE: I just talked to Steve, who not only updated The Onion review, but provided an interesting perspective on how and why things get reviewed. He told me he agrees wholeheartedly that women are often overlooked, that it was (as I assumed) accidental and that he has complained in the past about a lack of parity in coverage of male and female comics. We talked about the problem of even having to make the distinction that, yes, women are funny, and we concurred that women haven't reached equal footing just because Tina Fey has her own show.

If you have a project you'd like Steve to be aware of, email him at steveheisler@gmail.com.

Now I have to run. Steve and I are booked on a plane leaving in an hour for the middle east. We'll call you tomorrow when Hamas signs our peace treaty.

New Album, Plus Shows This Week

2010-10-05T12:41:00.002-04:00

In case you haven't heard, I've officially added the title "recording artist" to my resume. The TMC compilation album, "Get Rich or Move Back in with My Dad" features a bunch of amazing New York comics including Ted Alexandro, Hannibal Buress, Rob Cantrell and more, rapping and singing and generally being pretty awesome.

Click the image below to buy the album on iTunes. I'm on 6 tracks, including How to Rob Comics and the Trizzle Threat hits Summer Jam, DAMN (You Wish) and How to Make a Hip-Hop Hit with Tom McCaffrey and Mara Herron.

Also, two of my videos, Less Money More Problems with Tom McCaffrey and Take You Home with Jen Kwok have recently aired on Comedy Central's Atom TV. You can check out the full episodes here if you like. I'm in episodes 305 and 307, hosted by Jay Larson and Natasha Leggero, respectively.

I've got some amazing shows this week and you know I'd love to see you!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010 at 8 pm
Sacapuntas at Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery (between 1st and 2nd)
$8 at the door, $5 with code "supermango" here.

Featuring:

Carolyn Castiglia
Christian Finnegan
Mike Lawrence
Joe Mande
...and a secret guest! Even I don't know who it is!

Hosted by Dan Allen and Ray Devito

Thursday, October 7, 2010 at 9:30 pm
Colin Kane: Unzipped at Comix
353 W. 14th Street
$20, 2 drink minimum

I'll be hosting this show and doing lots of time, so let me know if you can make it - use PROMO CODE CKVIP TO BUY TICKETS ONLINE here for $15. Or you can give my name at the door. This is a traditional host, feature, headliner show format starring me, Justin McClure and Colin Kane in a big, fancy club in New York City. It's a big deal kinda thing, so come if you can!

Friday, October 8, 2010 at 7:30
Doors at 7 - come early for snack and a seat!
SPLURGE! at Happy Ending
302 Broome (Forsyth/Eldridge)
FREE!

Featuring:

Katina Corrao (ECNY Nominee for Best Female Stand-Up)
Pat Dixon (Comedy Central Presents)
Billy Eichner (UCB, Forest Hills State of Mind)
Jared Logan (Live at Gotham)
Veronica Mosey (Headlined Caroline's on Broadway)

Musical Guest: Chaz Kangas & DJ Milkmoney

SPLURGE! at Happy Ending is a monthly comedy event featuring stand-up and musical comedy from New York's most exciting talent. Every month will bring the premiere of a new short comedic film, and each show will close with host Carolyn Castiglia's hilarious signature freestyle rap.

Two big shows Friday, 9/10!

2010-09-08T12:52:00.001-04:00

Friday, September 10 at 7:30, doors at 7
Come early for snacks and a seat!
Splurge! at Happy Ending
302 Broome Street (Forsyth/Eldridge)
Free!

Featuring:

Kurt Braunohler (Comedy Central Presents Kristen Schaal)

Photo by Anya Garrett

Wyatt Cenac (The Daily Show)

Photo by 92Y Tribeca

Ryan Hamilton (Last Comic Standing)

Erin Judge (Live at Gotham)

Julian McCullough (Comedy Central Presents)

Musical Guest: Ben Lerman (Keith and the Girl)

Photo by Amiessence Fine Arts

Hosted by: Carolyn Castiglia (Comedy Central's The Atom Show)

Photo by Anya Garrett

FOLLOWED BY:

Joke Life: A hip-hop comedy show
Friday, September 10th at midnight
UCB - 307 W. 26th Street
$5

Featuring:

CKC, TMC and Beena Steena, aka Trizzle Threat, aka Carolyn Castiglia (VH1), Tom McCaffrey (Premium Blend, TruTV), Mara Herron (Fly, Girl)
Rob Cantrell (Last Comic Standing, Marijuanalogues)
Dan Curry (Last Comic Standing)
Joe Derosa (Comedy Central Presents)
Hardcore Boris, aka Boris Khaykin (Chris Gethard Show)
Jen Kwok (NBC Stand-Up for Diversity, viral hit Date an Asian)
Soce the Elemental Wizard (Logo, Sirius Shade 45 gay hip hop competition winner)

Brought to you by Tom McCaffrey, whose comedic hip-hop CD "Get Rich Or Move Back in With My Dad" will be released this month. CD release party at Pianos, 158 Ludlow, September 26, 8 pm. $7. Featuring most everyone above plus Ted Alexandro (Comedy Central Presents) and more......

Teh Internets Be So Crazy, Y'allz

2010-07-23T12:42:00.005-04:00

Guys, remember the time a bunch of supremacist a-holes left me nearly 200 notes calling me everything from a misfit toy to a race traitor to a buck-toothed whore? Something similar recently happened to 11-year-old vlogger Jessi Slaughter, only on a much grander scale.

Slaughter talked about being cyberstalked by anonymous Internet users on Good Morning America yesterday, declaring that despite receiving death threats, she has no plans to stop engaging with the technology that recently brought her to tears.

If you're one to make light of situations like these, understanding this particular incident to be the case of a young girl who was made fun of by a few mean-spirited kids on YouTube, think again. The type of torment being propagated here goes well beyond poorly spelled comments reading "ur videoz suck."

Gawker's Adrian Chen has been covering Slaughter's drama since it began unfolding last week. He himself became the subject of a smear campaign after criticizing those who attacked her.

While there is reason for concern over the treatment Chen received, the protagonist in this story remains to be Slaughter. Some might call her an antagonist as well, given that her profane taunting of her "haters" is what got her into this mess. What is most worrisome is that Slaughter, the daughter of working-class parents who are clearly not tech-savvy (as of Monday Slaughter's mother had still not seen any of her daughter's videos), is dependent upon the relationship she has built with people she does not know online.

She says of her ordeal, "I just want it to kind of like turn positive," referring to all of the attention she's gotten, adding, "I kind of do like the attention but I don't like so much negative attention."

Poor, poor girl.

Slaughter told GMA, "I don't really get along with people from school that much. They don't like me because they see me and they think I'm weird." And there's the sad irony of it all. A young girl looking for refuge from the awkward glances she gets at school is singled-out in a much more disastrous way on the web.

GMA reports that "a detective will come by Slaughter's house next week to sit with her and explain how to use the Internet safely and responsibly." Marion County detectives are "investigating the entire situation to look for evidence of cyberbulling and cyber-stalking." Slaughter was sent to a mental health facility on a suicide watch, but insisted "she wouldn't kill herself," yet she "could understand how someone could be pushed over the edge."

"I think that's completely wrong that people would taunt people to some degree that they would actually kill themselves over it," she said. "And that's actually completely wrong and whoever is doing it should be locked away for a really long time." Slate’s Emily Bazelon recently suggested that the suicide of Phoebe Prince was not the fault of those that relentlessly teased her, but rather her troubled mental state.

I have only two words for you, Emily: Come. On.

Are we going to continue to let bullies off the hook for preying on the weak? I mean, God damn it for realz. What is wrong with people? I applaud Chen for being brave enough to report on this issue. If there's a child in your life and you're worried about their online safety, visit stopcyberbullying.org. And if you are a parent who hasn't yet educated themselves on Internet culture and has no idea what your kidz are doing on the web, figure that shit out now. Finally, everyone: hug someone today. Seriously. If you need a hug, go get one. Hugs, not Internet thugs, guys. Teddy bears and double rainbows for everyone - on the house.

An Open Letter to Abby Cadabby

2010-07-20T10:22:00.009-04:00

Dear Abby,

It's taken me a while to write to you, because I don't want to be a hater. I've tried to reserve judgment on you, even though I can't stand your "Flying Fairy School" segment on Sesame Street. I love Sesame Street, and I just don't think you belong there, Abby. I'm not the only one.

I don't know who you think you are, but I resent you teaching my daughter that she can "solve a problem with a single Twinkle Think." You cannot solve problems with Twinkle Thinks. Twinkle Thinks are not real. And don't even begin to tell me Muppets aren't real, Abby. You're gonna have to suspend your disbelief here for a second if we're gonna have this conversation.

If you're so proud of being able to solve problems in a single Twinkle Think, you annoying pink blunder, then why haven't you solved world hunger yet? Why are you so selfish, Abby Cadabby? Sure, you may have turned Blogg (Really? Your friend is named Blogg? Don't you think he has an Internet addiction? Why not solve that with a single Twinkle Think?)... anyway... you may have turned Blogg back into a whatever-he-is, but you haven't cured AIDS, now have you? Where were you when my Dad died of cancer, Abby? Huh? Maybe you should stop acting so god-damned high and mighty, with your little pink wings and your little glittery wand and your TWINKLE THINKS and DO something with your power! Stop being so oblivious to the world around you. I know you're only a baby fairy, but seriously - if you want to live long enough to grow up, you might want to (twinkle) think about global warming. Maybe fix the BP spill. Find me a boyfriend. Something!

Otherwise, I'm gonna have to change the channel during your segment, Abby. At this point, I'd rather listen to Dora's squeaky wail than your childish smoker's voice. Ya might wanna cut it down to a pack-a-day, kid. Or get yourself checked for nodes or something. You sound like a fairy who's been around the block, if you know what I mean. Were you gone again with Gonnigan? You know he has other girls, right? Oh sure - they love that whole moody, depressive thing he's got goin' for him. That he just suddenly disappears, then reappears. Chicks go nuts for that shit. (Literally - I heard he's dating one of the chickens who did backup dancing for Feist the day she was on the show.)

Chew on that, Abby. And hey - good luck.

Love,
Carolyn

The Woman I'm Afraid of Turning Into

2010-07-19T12:41:00.002-04:00

The Woman I'm Afraid of Turning Into
Originally uploaded by Anya Garrett

My portrait, as a part of Anya Garrett's brilliant gallery debut. See this and more gorgeous, hilarious, tragic photos of 12 young female comedians at HERE Arts Center, 145 Ave. of the Americas, NYC. Now through Sept. 17. http://www.here.org/shows/detail/352/

Cornell Doctor Practices FGM, Tests Sensation Level of Young Girls

2010-06-30T10:43:00.002-04:00

It's hard to find words to describe the upset and helpless feelings I have after reading Hannah Rosin's recent piece for Slate about Dr. Dix Poppas, the Cornell University pediatric urologist who has feminist and homo bloggers in an uproar over his questionable methods of genital reconstructive surgery and the subsequent testing methods he uses to check the stimulation level of the private parts of girls as young as 6 years old.

Rosin asserts, "The patients in question are girls with a condition known as CAH, or congenital adrenal hyperplasia, which affects about one in 5,000 girls." Girls with CAH have a large clitoris, and Rosin says, "for many years the standard treatment for this has been... cosmetic reduction of the size of the clitoris, usually done on infants before they turn 1." Note the use of the word cosmetic in that sentence. This surgery is not medically necessary, only asked for by parents who are uncomfortable with the idea of having a daughter with enlarged genitals.

Rosin tries to defend Poppas's actions by suggesting that what he practices is "nerve sparing" surgery, as opposed to the traditional removal of the organ. But as I've discussed, there really are no good reasons for altering a baby's genitals. I've come to the conclusion that if we hope to end the practice of FGM around the world, it's probably time to stop circumcising male babies, too. Yes, arguably male circumcision is a religious rite, but so is handling poisonous snakes. That doesn't mean it's a good idea. Plus, there are men all over the world doing just fine with foreskin who I imagine think circumcision is inhumane.

It's not just Poppas's genital cutting that has his critics on edge, but even more so the methods he uses in testing the effectiveness of his surgeries. Rosin reports that using a vibrator, "with a parent and a female nurse practitioner looking on, the doctor would measure the patient's sensitivity threshold by dialing up the stimulus until she could feel it and rate its intensity." According to reports, the doctor did not stimulate his patients to sexual arousal, but come on! I remember being 4 and knowing that it felt good to touch myself "down there." I'm sure his six-year-old patients were not writhing in ecstasy on their hospital beds, but the act is sure to be emotionally scarring nonetheless. Katy Kelleher at Jezebel says, "At the age of six, these girls are old enough to remember their visits to Poppas's office. They are old enough that the memory of a much older physician stimulating them with a vibrator will be easily accessible in later years. And Poppas wants to do this annually."

Not only are these girls now painfully aware that their pee-pees are "not normal," they're made to feel like Frankenstein. Just because you created a "perfect" genital area, doctor, does not give you unlimited control over the region. (Rosin reports that these testing methods were never approved by higher-ups at Cornell.)

Sex expert and Savage Love columnist Dan Savage is outraged over Pappas's methods, and maintains that "there's nothing wrong with these girls and their healthy, functional-if-larger-than-average clitorises; there's no need to operate on these girls; and surgically altering a girl's clitoris because it's "too big" has been found to do lasting physical and psychological harm." Rosin's true colors come out when she counters that by saying, "much as Savage might like it to be, the world is not yet a place where most little girls can have a clitoris that looks like a penis and feel entirely at ease. And few parents would want to use their daughter to test that proposition." Exactly, Ms. Rosin. If parents don't feel at ease with their children, how can these girls feel at ease with themselves? What's next, doing facial reconstruction surgery on children with Down Syndrome? One would never hear of such a thing, and most people show off their faces much more frequently than their private parts.

Poppas's work was brought to light by two bioethicists, Alice Dreger and Ellen Feder, who published an article in Bioethics Forum criticizing a 2007 paper Poppas and two colleagues wrote in the Journal of Urology. Dreger has written another critique of Poppas in Psychology Today, saying, "When I once asked a group of women with androgen insensitivity syndrome what they wanted me to work on primarily in my advocacy work, they said stopping the exams, particularly those in which med students, residents, and fellows parade through to check out the surgeon's handiwork."

Any woman who has given birth can probably relate to a small extent. I can't tell you how many strangers stuck their heads and fingers in my vagina during the over-24 hours I was in labor, and though of course I understood it was medically necessary, it is odd to be asked by a pretty, young nurse if you'd mind her shaving your pubes. One of the first hospital staff members I saw after getting my gown on was a young male intern who helped dilate my cervix. It makes me sick to think of the embarrassment young girls are going through, having their genitals poked and prodded and indeed nodded at with approval by men who are dictating what a woman should look like. As a chubby woman, I know what it feels like to be afraid that the world won't accept your naked body as is, but I'm an adult. I can handle those fears. I also contributed to my size and can do something about it, if I so choose. But I want to be accepted for who I am, to the extent that I am naturally curvy, in the same way that girls with enlarged genetalia have every right to consider themselves normal, too.

There is a petition at Change.org to "Tell Cornell University: Stop Genital Mutilation Now." It remains to be seen whether Poppas will be reprimanded by Cornell University for pursuing this methodology without permission. I certainly hope so.

Smiley Vagyrus

2010-06-18T12:36:00.008-04:00

Just came across this article while searching for news for my job, and I have to say, I think the idea of Perez Hilton being arrested for child porn for posting a scandalous picture of Miley Cyrus is the most ridonkulous thing I've ever heard.

So many questions:

1) Why was it okay to post an upskirt shot of a 25-year-old Britney Spears, but it's not okay to post an upskirt shot of a 17-year-old? What's the difference? Why should anybody's cooter be blog fodder?

2) Why do female celebrities continue to ride in limos wearing short skirts without underwear when they know they're going to be photographed while stepping out of their car? I wear underwear under Spanx for Christ's sake.

3) Why aren't there paparazzi laws that prohibit cameramen from shooting people while stepping out of their cars? Or at the grocery store. (I know why, because those photos sell, and the last living segment of the magazine industry is celebrity rags, but that doesn't make it right.)

4) Why is this image, according to Psychologist David Swanson (whoever he is) "normalizing the idea of sexualizing young adolescent girls." You know what else is normalizing the sexualization young adolescent girls? Every young adolescent girl who appears scantily clad in photos and videos. Their parents for allowing it, and in some cases encouraging it. Baby Gaga's mom (no matter what she says). Everyone in America. Shit.

I haven't seen the picture, but I've seen enough vag in my day that I can imagine it. (Yes, I can imagine the Cyrus Vagyrus and I'm sure it's covered in glittery stars.) All I'm saying is, if Miley Cyrus is making videos like Can't Be Tamed, she's trying to sexualize herself, and looking like an imitation in the process, I might add.

You can put smoky makeup and giant bird wings on the girl, but you can't hide her inner country bumpkin. (Take it from one who knows.) With Can't be Tamed, Cyrus is just doing her best Rihanna impression, both visually and musically. I'm shocked she even recorded the track, because she's been very open about the fact that she doesn't listen to pop music and only recorded her hit Party in the USA to support her clothing line.

Ironically, toward the end of Can't Be Tamed, Cyrus croons, "Don't change me." Odd, considering that with that song she changed her image completely. And all the publicity from the Hilton photo gaffe has only helped cement the idea that Miley is Hannah Montana no more.

Photo: AP/Armando Franca

Perez told Joy Behar last night, "I don't regret what I did and I would do the same thing again... Because it's not showing anything inappropriate. It's not actually doing anything worse than Miley herself has been doing." Exactly.

So is the argument that it's okay for Miley to be sexually charged in the context of a video, but not sexually exploited by the press? I hate to break it to you, Miley, but unlike Hannah Montana, you don't get to have the best of both worlds. In this world, you've got to choose.