Celebrities are getting their chance to mouth-off in Huffington Post blogs more and more these days: Jamie Lee Curtis (a diatribe about Paris Hilton’s mother’s lack of parenting), Alec Baldwin (an angry rant on fathers’ rights and direct hit at his ex-wife). The HuffPo perpetuates the idea that celebrities have something important to say solely due to their celebrity status.

In her very own Huffington Post blog, blah-ly entitled “The Choice is Ours Now,” Melissa Etheridge, as our gay high priestess, begs us to make the right choice: convince straight people that we are nice and socially acceptable. In a series of clichés, Etheridge talks about that “mountain” us gays have been climbing to freedom of identity. Speaking solely for myself, I have been busy spelunking in a cave of societal shame, not climbing any mountains. As gay spokeswoman, Melissa pens so eloquently the hurt we felt after the high of Obama’s win when Prop 8 was passed. “Still sore and angry we felt another slap in the face as the man we helped get elected seemingly invited a gay-hater to address the world at his inauguration.” Seemingly? Not seemingly. He did invite a known gay-hater, Melissa, it’s a fact. Think of it this way–you are seemingly a spokeswoman for gay people. (more…)

While perusing a friend’s Facebook page a few months ago, I noticed a comment left by a man with my exact first and last name–almost. His last name had a few letters switched but otherwise it was a funny coincidence. Since he was a mutual acquaintance I sent him a message (re: Look at our names!):

Matt Siegel
August 6 at 12:29pm

you are the reason people misspell my name

The Other Matt Siegel*
August 6 at 12:45pm

OH – I’ve heard of you! You live in LA also, which makes this even more strange. We should probably be in the same room at some point, just to confuse people.

“Siegel” is more common than mine, so I argue that you cause my misspelling?

Matt Siegel
August 6 at 1:51pm

If we were in the same room I would address you as Matthew See-glee. 

*I am referring to him as “The Other Matt Siegel” in an effort to protect his identity as much as possible without losing the point of the story.

It also turned out that he was attending graduate school with an artist friend of mine. We had a nice exchange–seven emails back and forth. From the way he was engaging me I suspected he was gay.

It is a common notion that artists have as many social graces as someone with Asperger’s. With that said, my dearest friends all happen to be visual artists. On a recent Saturday night, said artist friend took me to a holiday party at one of his classmate’s homes. The first seemingly-gay-but-straight art student hipster I met with his oversized, attention-seeking, red, Sally Jesse Raphael eyeglasses, looked down at the floor and away upon introduction. Charmed! My friend informed me that the other Matt Siegel was at the party so I told Sally Jesse that I would catch him on the flip-side, that I was going to meet the other Matt Siegel, and perhaps he would look me in the eye. (To his credit, Sally Jesse apologized to me later. And to his parents’ credit, he was hot.) (more…)

I have pondered whether or not I should put my two cents in regarding Gus Van Sant’s Milk considering how much press it’s getting. Who cares about my two cents? Then I thought, “Matt Siegel, you have a unique perspective. Spill it.”

I was nervous about seeing the film. I have spent many a year feeling sad and angry, so why spend money to feel that way? I’m such a jew-ess. Give it to me for free and I’ll see it immediately. I made a date to see Milk with my friend, actress, Jill Clayburgh. I mention her by name because, to me, she is the ultimate mother and nurturer, on-screen and off, and I wanted someone safe to go with me.

On our way into The Grove, I mentioned how I wished an out gay man could have played the title role in Milk and Jill got pissed, calling me pigheaded and asking me if I would prefer that the movie not have been made at all. Mama, why are you being so firm with me? I understood her point, it was a big Hollywood film and needed a major name attached to it. My feeling about the casting had more to do with the fact that in such a gay industry, many, many, many actors are in the closet for fear of not getting jobs as a result. Where has Rupert Everett been since he came out years ago? One shitty movie with his faghag, Madonna, is where he’s been. It is common knowledge that once you come out, casting people and executives believe it is too difficult for audiences to see you as anything but gay. I began running through out gay actors in my head as alternatives to Sean Penn but the prospect of Doogie Howser playing Harvey Milk made me want to go back in the closet. With that said, I liken the casting of Sean Penn in Milk to Anthony Hopkins playing a light-skinned black man in The Human Stain. (more…)

Every time this commercial from the mysterious Foundation For A Better Life airs, I brace myself for someone in the crowd to yell “retard!” or for a bucket of pig’s blood to fall on her from above. If I was this down syndrome girl’s mother, I would snatch her off that stage so fast her tiara would spin. She is not some mongoloid martyr there to make this group of kids feel P.C. And you know there is some bitch posse in the corner talking shit on her: “I can’t believe that retard won. Fuck her, I’m gonna kick her ass on Monday.”