Thumbing through my LA Gay and Lezzie Film festival guide, I was forlorn to see a too-attractive wasp sitting at a typewriter wearing a white tee and Buddy Holly glasses with the word “HOWL” next to it and, moreover, the name “James Franco” under that. I say Goddamn! Put a hot guy in anything and gays will eat it up. Shit. Ginsberg wasn’t a hot Aryan, he was a handsome Jew. James Franco is a mere showpiece, a tart. Where’s Jeff Goldblum when you need him?
It's fun to be a gay beat poet!
He resembles Ginsberg anyway. Ginsberg was cute, after all.
The first thing I notice about Franco is that he’s hot. Dressed as Ginsberg he’s still hot. When I see photos of the real Ginsberg, I see a regular, handsome guy.
Franco was a great James Dean, a man who flourished due to his sex appeal, but in this case his outstanding appearance detracts and distracts from the real genius of Ginsberg which, of course, was wholly internal.
James Franco is Jewish (his mother is). You oughtta look such things up before you talk.
Excuse me James Franco or James Franco’s manager: you can lick my taint. He don’t look like a jew and Ginsberg did–I want a Jew’s Jew!
Uh… ok. I forgot that if you don’t look like the Nazi’s caricature of what a Jew is supposed to look like, you’re not really Jewish. My bad. Won’t happen again.