You might not get to hear Hotel California, but at least the show will put you out 100 bucks. Because, really, that's what it is all about. Demand for Marilyn Manson's impish dabbling in bisexuality is not what pushed the price of a ticket to over one hundred dollars. The demand is to spend money and Marilyn Manson is merely a convenient vessel. We have a tough time keeping up with whichever of Manson's advertised multiple personalities is behind this tour, but the music will probably have the same pop undercurrent whether it tries to appropriate Glam, Goth or Industrial this time. But even if Manson is a horrible beast created by record companies to undermine any real attempts at an underground culture, at least his lyrics strike a cord with pre-teen angst and help convince youngsters everywhere to slice themselves up with razors. Manson will act as a bridge leading them to a bountiful life filled with dirty needles, rape and crack babies. That alone tells us that he is one of those good gays.

    This butt muncher is so queer that he got his face bashed in to give better head! No hate crime twisted his mouth into the deformed, sagging foreskin that it is. He actually paid some thugs to kick his teeth in! How gay is that? It doesn't stop there, either. He designed his name to elicit a lisp. Thhhura. The evidence is insurmountable. Obviously it's what the masses want, though, and Shura regularly gets gigs at all the most krutoi clubs in town. Last time we saw him, the crowd was full of guys who were drunk, gay and rich enough to flaunt it. Impromptu striptease by male escorts was a common enough sight. It was all vaguely reminiscent of a flaming version of the Duck. The bouncers seemed to enjoy the scene as much as anyone. They didn't even kick out the drunken gay who repeatedly taunted working girls that weren't getting much business that night. Whether Metelitsa's steroid pumped clones will do the same will be a PH test as to how deep the gay conspiracy actually goes. Anyone who digs grinding with coked-up sweaty Union of Right Wingers is guaranteed a good time.

    You might think that at least within the autonomous regions of Russia not all men are flamers. Khuun-Khurtu, a group of throat singers from Buryat, will make you reconsider. These guys are confined to the ghetto of World Music. No amount of money or success will ever allow them to move beyond the fire exit in a deserted corner on the third floor of an HMV, where their albums have been gathering dust between Sounds of an Aboriginal Pig Slaughter and Brian Eno. Instead of wearing normal people clothes, mama dresses them and they parade around in some silly ethnic costume that is nothing but a perverted and libelous bastardization created by some unscrupulous Moscow image-maker. In spite of it all, they continue the dehumanizing gurgling and one stringed instrument twanging daily, traveling around the world with their hour and a half set, winning praise but never getting to see da money. Even if Frank Zappa said he was amazed by Buryat throat sings, what of it? Zappa's dead, baby, and he ain't coming back. Now ask yourself - are these sorry fucks gay?

    It is a sign of hard times ahead for the Dorkadent industry when somewhere like Gertsen announces something like the Ex-pat After Party. The party's concept is simple - after three even ex-holes can enter in sneakers. Could this mean fascist face and foot control is going the way of the Bobby Brown and the Dodo? Management is tightlipped. Officially, this transparent bid to get more customers with hard currency means a 'democratic' (read American) dress code every Friday after three. They also promise to lower prices for those bargain conscience consumers. Even renting the sauna only costs 800R/hour! But the question remains - what will happen when sneakers enter a haven of Euro-trash? Certain experts believe that the repercussions of allowing Nikes into Gertsen could exceed even the worst fallout witnessed during the Y2K crisis.