Eager prey

Against you,
what defense?

That any mere mortal
breathe in air
charged by your presence
not exhale it, now your slave
No

To keep muscles engaged
thighs,
calves,
back,
neck
not fall to knees
and hands
but stand to meet
your deserving gaze

This, perhaps.

But so, while the heart
having any human quality
beats faster
dizzying
squeezing
a seething, wounded thing
its rhythm, permanently altered
suffused
conquered

No, no defense
but the only one afforded:
physical denial
circumstance
cruel, mean truth.


(I promise, I really will work on that other topic today. You know how it is sometimes--Jake just suddenly demanded some adoration from me this morning. He can be very intense and...imperative. Best to do as he commands.)

Photo: Esquire, via IHJ.

The $20,000 man

Congratulations of a sort are in order for royandronnie, who last night committed to shell out twenty thousand dollars for the privilege of spending an afternoon with Jake Gyllenhaal. Things started heating up just before 3 pm yesterday, with the competing bids of rammzoo, who apparently couldn't quite swing ten grand. That's when jiblumen stepped in and gave royandronnie a real run for her money, literally. Bidding trickled over into the final ten minutes of the auction, pushing the close time back by ten minutes per bid, though when I refreshed the page it looked more like a total of fifteen to me.

There's some confusion in the fandom over the ultimate outcome of last year's auction, no one able to remember hearing any account of the actual "date" with Jake. I'll be keeping an eye out for different results this time around. Check out the bid history for yourself. Marvel at the deep pockets of fanfic writers. Contemplate a change of career. Prepare for the coming apocalypse.

That is, for me, a serious amount of money. As Jake's price climbed, I began to imagine what I could do if I had that much disposable cash to my name. Here's a brief list of

Things I could do with $20,000

• Pay off the balance on my auto loan, twice


• Pre-order 635 copies of the Zodiac 2-disc Director's Cut


• Buy 200 pairs of Nike sneakers


• Fly to New Mexico today for the Brothers open casting call, and stay through the end of the shoot

Believe me, I'm not saying that even one hour with Jake wouldn't be worth twenty grand. I'd give the ACLU a million dollars just to spend ten minutes with him, if I could afford it. And that's what it all comes down to: relative value. One's definition of afford, as well. The inherent evil of an auction like this is that it's so easy for someone who can't really afford it to justify going into debt to fund what will certainly be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Especially someone susceptible to fandom to begin with, and in particular the appreciation of a man whose appeal has surprisingly little to do with his outer beauty. We're even more presupposed to emotionally-driven choices, by our nature. While it's not up to the ACLU to stop someone from behaving irrationally or irresponsibly, it's ethically questionable at best to bait us with the promise of something we could never otherwise have.

By extension, I guess that means Jake should take some of the responsibility for what might happen. I don't have access to his bank balances, but I'm thinking $20,000 is not such a big deal to him. True, by offering his time instead of just handing that much over to the ACLU himself, he has given one or two fans the chance to fulfill a dream. He's probably not even aware of how insane he makes people; he's not an idiot but he doesn't really know how bad it is. Or maybe, maybe he figures that anyone foolish enough to go beyond their means for something like this deserves everything that comes with that choice, good and bad. We'll probably never know.

Photos: IHJ, and I don't know where.

Warm fuzzies

Happy birthday to Jake's big sister, Maggie Gyllenhaal! Maggie turns 30 today.


This makes me happy. Esquire calls Jake Gyllenhaal's performance in Rendition one of six Performances of the Year in their December issue.


Looks like Jeff Wells at Hollywood Elsewhere would have gone with option number three in my poll at right.

It's not that Gyllenhaal plays his Egypt-based CIA guy badly or ineffectively, but that Egypt-based CIA guy is written as such a revoltingly passive wuss....For me, Gyllenhaal's inactivity is infuriating. He's not just a guy doing nothing, but an emblem of do-nothing types the world over.

He sounds like he's blaming Jake for Douglas's actions, or inaction, as the case may be, which misses the point entirely. If you found him infuriating or revolting, Jeff, then he kicked ass, because you were supposed to feel all those things. And Wells's statement about what Douglas's character lacks expresses precisely why Jake's was an incredibly difficult role, and why his performance was that much more worthy of praise. I'm glad the editors of Esquire recognized that, even if Wells doesn't.

Something else that makes me happy: seeing Jake happy. IHJ has posted those photos from Jake and Reese's recent Napa Valley visit, and while the level of paparazzi interest in this relationship still bothers me, seeing Jake so obviously at ease and happy literally brought me to tears. Even Reese smiled at the camera this time. That's the way I like to see them.

Meanwhile, it looks like Jake's about to become the subject of a sniping showdown. Slash writer (it's amazing the things you can learn while browsing around Jake's fandom) royandronnie's opening bid remains the only one so far, and the auction ends at 6 pm EST. At least, I'm sorta hoping it will be sniped. Well, I mean, I totally will understand if no one can afford to bid $5,500, because I can't, but I guess I'd like to see the promise of his company bring in more than the bare minimum for the charity of his choice. Plus it would be fun to watch and see just how crazy Jake can make people.

Update: Well, here's another nice treat I hadn't seen before. This transcript, which the source claims to be from the Los Angeles Rendition press conference, has lots of priceless Jakeisms. I don't understand why I'm just now finding this. This stuff is gold and should have been all over the 'net by now. Some examples:

Reporter: You and Peter shaved your heads in Jarhead. Now, you both have beards.
Jake: Peter and I are dating (laughter). I can see the headlines now.
~~~
Reporter: What qualities do you admire in Reese, as a person and an actress?
Jake: She can grow a mean beard, that's for sure (laughter)! I don’t know if you’ve seen her beard--it's amazing!
~~~
Reporter: Will you comment on rumors that you are dating Reese?
Jake: No. Apparently, I am dating a lot of people, not only of the opposite sex (laughter)--it's very interesting and amusing.
Reporter: The first time we interviewed you, you talked about not having enough sex...
Jake: Are you offering or what? (Laughter)
Reporter: You talked freely during that interview. You have become a star since. So, has your sex life changed?
Jake: I've become an ascetic--I live in a cave now. That's why I am growing a beard. I have no sex, so I’m much more interesting!

Damn, Jake. Could you be any more lovable?

Photo of Maggie thumbnailed from The Internet Movie Database; all others from IHJ.

Comfort zone

Please prepare to sigh deeply and feel the overwhelming urge to drop everything in favor of watching one of Jake's movies, like, now, before you check out this Film Experience post by Nathaniel R.

Sigh.

New pics of Jake back in Beverly Hills showed up yesterday while I was completely removed from computer access, naturally. Sometimes it really does feel like he's heard our comments; for example, the recent references to the longevity of some items in his wardrobe. That shirt is at least three years old. The jeans go back at least two years, as do those goofy shoes. Together, the ensemble perfectly highlights his cuddly/sexy vibe. It would not work on anyone who isn't Jake Gyllenhaal.

Some things in life, I just don't want to know about, but they find me anyway, frequently by accident while following my Jake news routine. This morning I can add knowledge of the existence of House M.D. slash to that list. Hey, I love me some House (Hugh Laurie is one of those men who turns me on without my clearly understanding why), and I've always been a fan of Robert Sean Leonard, but, I don't care to go there. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since the whole slash thing started off with the exceptionally unsexy (to me) pairing of Kirk and Spock. At least House and Wilson don't make me want to recommend the writer of said fics receive electroconvulsive therapy. It's good that I have these lovely images of Jake to erase the mental ones conjured by my unfortunate discovery.

Yesterday I made a discovery of a different kind. I was attending a mandatory annual "meeting" for work, which is really more of a party designed to let all the staff in the district meet and give them a screwoff day to boost morale, and when I lined up for the buffet lunch, I was behind a gentleman from our marketing section with whom I've spoken many times over the course of my job. He turned to me and mentioned that the last time he was at my office, he'd noticed a photo of Jake Gyllenhaal on my desk. Was I a fan? He was immediately graced with my involuntary Gyllenhaalic blush and I grinned. "Are you?" I asked him, and after a second's hesitation, he said he was indeed. We shared an endless stream of barely coherent gushing about Jake that covered Donnie Darko, his visits to Ellen, Brokeback Mountain, Rendition and Zodiac. Before he left, he'd written down my recommendations for Jake movie rentals. It was a warm experience on an otherwise Jakeless afternoon.

All photos: IHJ.

Therapy and item number 8860

Days like today, when I'm sitting at work and completely uninterested in doing any aspect of my job, I find myself loading the same web pages over and over again, looking for news of Jake that doesn't consist solely of rehashings of paraphrasings of sightings posted only so that the author can get those keywords into the stream again for the day. I couldn't begin to tell you what I'm expecting to find, but it beats the hell out of updating attendance records and scheduling interviews. I did feel a perverse glee when I confirmed that Lions for Lambs currently has a 26% rating at Rotten Tomatoes, which makes Rendition's 45% seem positively glowing by comparison.

One of the things that happens when you pass out in the shower and then tearfully confess to your family that you have been severely depressed for a while is that the ER doctor tells you to see a therapist. This is different from seeing the psychiatrist who has been prescribing your antidepressants for about seventeen years, because the pill doctor's job is to fix your brain chemistry. The therapist's job is to make you think about stuff. I think about stuff too much already, so I was never helped by or interested in therapy. But considering how badly the latest depression scared me, it seemed like a good idea to comply, so I went yesterday.

When the doctor asked me what type of man I'm interested in, I laughed and plucked my Jake in '08 t-shirt away from my chest. "This guy, right here," I told him. He was amused and not overly concerned. He also didn't recognize Jake, which really didn't bother me, as he may not get out to the movies much. But when we talked about my complete lack of romantic interaction, he pointed at Jake on my chest and asked, "If he came up to you tomorrow and asked you out, would you accept?"

And the question was so apt, I gave the most honest answer I could: I don't know.

Because my problem is, and always has been, my perception of myself. If Jake Gyllenhaal wanted to be with me, could I let myself trust his judgment that I was, in fact, worthy of him? I wish I could just shout an emphatic yes, yes, YES! in reply, but I'm not there yet. It's something I have to continue to work on. The FedEx delivery guy that came in the office this morning seemed a little weak in the knees; he looked like I feel when I stumble upon someone who really attracts me. He wasn't bad, either. But who knows. Maybe he just ate a tainted Egg McMuffin this morning.

Of course, being approached by Jake for a date is quite a different issue from winning one in a charity auction, but it did make me wonder what it is I think I'd say to the man if given that chance. His ACLU of Southern California price is currently holding at $5,000. I don't blame Jake that the opening bid was far too high, because for all I know it was based on the results of last year's auction, and in either case I'm sure Jake had fuckall to do with setting the number. For that price, Jake ought to be cooking and serving the lunch.

I wonder if he's even seen the auction's headline. It appears to have been written by someone who scanned the fan sites and forums for ideas. Or, hell, maybe Jake's incredible appeal is just that universal and simple. Do other male celebrities get called beautiful by random observers? I mean, it's my word of choice for Jake, too, but I'm rather biased. Anyway, what would we talk about? He's already answered my cilantro question. Honestly, I love Donnie Darko, but I don't need Jake to explain it to me. Maybe I could explain it to him. Oh, and I could ask him what the story is with all those sneakers. But then he'd know just how creepily interested in his life I really am.

Auction photo thumbnailed from Charity Folks. Other photos found in assorted places on the web.

Impenetrable mysteries of the Gyllenverse, part III

We're all thinking it: how many pairs of sneakers does Jake have, and just what does he do with them all?

I have a theory about this one, but it has absolutely no basis in reality whatsoever. Just something that sounds good to me, so I'm sticking with it until he makes a statement disproving it. My theory later. First, let's talk about...

Jake Gyllenhaal's Nike Sneaker Addiction
According to this completely unscientific survey from Mister Poll, the average consumer's sneakers last between six months and two years before they need replacement. Sure, there are those who like to have a few different pairs around for different activities, I suppose. Maybe three, tops.

In my investigation, I went back to the beginning of September this year to learn just how many different Nike sneakers Jake has been seen in.

• September 4: Having started the day wearing what look to my amateur eyes to be a pair of Adidas, one of his rare departures from the Nike swoosh, Jake shows off these Nikes while out to dinner in Los Angeles.



• September 9: In New York for the start of the Rendition press tour, Jake takes in some U.S. Open tennis with his friend, wearing this pair. Wave to the scumbag pap, Jake!



• September 15: RE-TREAD--Jake takes a stroll in SoHo with director Noah Baumbach. Apparently, he has brought a single pair of Nikes to NY, and has not had the chance to shop for more.



• September 25: Back home in Los Angeles, Jake valet parks for coffee in a new pair of swooshes. He'll later be photographed in the bizarre big-necked blue sweatshirt two three five days in a row, but this particular pair of Nikes is never seen again.



• October 10: Once more leaving Joan's on Third in L.A., with one of the assorted lucky assistant types that alternate in his service, Jake wears what honestly could be something other than Nikes, but let's count them anyway since they don't have the obvious appearance of another brand. And they're different from the last pair.



• October 23: Still wearing his then-favorite tan t-shirt, Jake takes a walk in L.A. with Brothers director Jim Sheridan, introducing us to the longest-running pair of Nikes so far in the study.



• October 28: RE-TREAD #1--Jake wears them again when he attends a concert in the company of Robert Downey, Jr. at a club in West Hollywood. He has, however, switched off to the gray t-shirt.



• October 31: RE-TREAD #2--For an unprecedented third time, we see Jake wearing the pale Nikes with the red-outlined swoosh and the yellow heel insert in the sole as he approaches his ride in Beverly Hills. This was the day of the infamous "pap-slap," possibly inspired by sneaker ennui. (Later that night, Jake was photographed wearing these completely unidentifiable [by me] reflective sneakers, in addition to a gorilla suit).



• November 2: RE-TREAD #3 (!!)--Nevertheless, when Jake gets papped arriving at a basketball game at L.A.'s Staples Center, the gray-yellow-red Nikes are back for one last hurrah.



• November 6: I've never seen anyone so beautiful in all my life. Ahem! Sorry, on with it. Walking with Reese in an L.A. parking lot, Jake coordinates a new pair of Nikes with his oddly sexy sweat shorts. The orange shirt is...less sexy, but on Jake, does it really matter?



• November 9: Somewhere in a garage in Los Angeles, Jake Gyllenhaal debuts his SEVENTH pair of Nike sneakers in two months. He also dons the same layered shirts that I admired so from the Clippers game. Thanks, baby!

There you have it. Seven distinct pairs of Nike sneakers over the span of sixty-six days. And those are just the ones captured in photographs. Who knows how many different Nikes he wore on the days in between?

My theory is sort of developed around the observation that Jake has been known to re-wear several sets of non-sneaker foot attire (the battered black boots and the thong-sandals come to mind), but once we see him in a different pair of Nikes, the previous pairs never appear again. This new-sneaker addiction, an observable quirk, is all the more prominent because of Jake's well-documented penchant for wearing the same clothes over a span of a year or more. Also, every pair of sneakers we see him in looks brand new. He never seems to wear them out. Does Jake test shoes for Nike? One might reasonably make such a guess. I think, however, that Jake loves to buy new sneakers, loves to coordinate them with his clothes when possible, but then almost immediately sees something new that he wants.

Therefore, my official Jake Gyllenhaal Nike Sneaker Disposition Theory is that Jake wears the sneakers once or twice and then donates them somewhere. I know, it's a stretch, but it certainly fits the evidence. It's nicer to believe this than imagine a room in his house dedicated to forgotten Nikes, piled knee-deep, the door kept locked except when he comes home to discard the latest castoffs as he prepares to break in yet another new pair.

All photos: IHJ.

Worth a shot

Here's something I've been compiling in my head for a few days. I finally had a chance to start putting it down while I was in the doctor's office waiting room this morning. Please, settle back now and enjoy...


Attention Jake Gyllenhaal: Ten Reasons Why You Should Marry Me

1. You won't have to bend nearly double to kiss me. All it will take is a gentle dip of your head. In fact, all of our parts will line up perfectly. You could grab my ass without dislocating your shoulder. And while my self-esteem may not be exemplary, I do know that my ass is very much worth grabbing. Trust me.


2. There is no ex for you to be compared with in my past. In any department. No matter what you say or do, it's all new to me and not something to be submitted to my own subconscious grade scale.


3. I always carry my own damn purse, which is not suitcase-sized, and when I don't feel like carrying one, I leave it at home. Plus, I've been known to carry the wallet of my male companion in said purse upon request, so he wouldn't have to sit on a lump while driving or in a movie theater seat.


4. I don't find you the least bit boring. Going to clubs holds no appeal to me. My idea of a perfect evening is to spend it curled up on the couch with you, just talking, or watching a movie together. Walks on the beach are also highly ranked. Hell, walks anywhere would be great, and my legs are as long as yours, so you don't have to worry about adjusting your stride to accommodate mine.


5. Your work and mine will never cause scheduling conflicts. Actually, once I get to California I have no idea what work I'll be doing, unless I can get a writing grant. But I am free to travel with you when desired, or stay at home and water the plants. Either way, I'll take loving care of Atticus so you can concentrate on your job.


6. Speaking of dependents, I currently have none of the human variety. I am more than willing to change that, granted the appropriate partner (i.e. yourself). Our children are statistically assured to be tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed angels like their Daddy. Just do a Punnett square if you don't believe me. (I know that looks aren't everything, but this is a nice bonus.)


7. Should you, however, be in the mood for romping with children immediately, my nephew and your niece are close enough in age to make terrific playmates for each other. He's a good-natured, happy baby who loves male voices.


8. That need of yours, to have an audience, will always be satisfied with genuine interest, occasional eye rolling, frequent warm indulgence and hearty laughter. I'm already doing all of that, because there's no one and nothing I love to watch more than you.


9. You love to cook. I hate to cook. And we both hate the taste of cilantro. You can order me around the kitchen, or order me to get the hell out while you conjure whatever culinary magic your heart desires. I will eat anything you serve, willingly, eagerly, with lust in my eyes and appreciative noises issuing from my throat. Umm.


10. My absolute non-celebrity will make our couplehood spectacularly uninteresting to the tabloids and press. No one is going to ask you questions about me while you're trying to promote a movie, unless they happen to actually know and care about both of us, which is unlikely. Of course, paparazzi are still going to chase you, because you're so damn photogenic, but half of them will probably mistake me for your sister anyway.

All photos: IHJ.

Let me in

I tremble with the need to touch you.

This ache, long savored,
swells, filling my being
at the sight of your photographed image.

That you don't understand what your pictures bring
is part of the uncanny grace that makes you worth looking at.

So much of what you are is reflected
in glimpses, snapped
like this one
capturing a moment
of shyness
of sweetness
of subtle, tantalizing mischief
as the photographer no doubt has directed this half-naked stance.

So far beyond the mere aesthetic,
your profound beauty,
and it radiates through every still frame,
every candid exposure;
your expression says you think this photo will be pure beefcake, silly.

I see it with my heart.

Not a man without his shirt
but a man, full of humility, and humor, and a desire to please.

That is the genius of this photograph: it captures the essence of you.

And that is why I tremble.

My aching, yes, to caress the dark swirls on golden skin
and in doing, touch the man inside. You.


Photo by Mario Testino, as featured in Let Me in, by way of jakegyllenhaalfan.com.

Screwed

I'm trying to remain positive about this. (Being positive about anything at this hour when my mood has not yet risen to a completely functional elevation is daunting, so hopefully you'll understand if I fail to sound enthusiastic.) There's more news this morning, courtesy of the Hollywood Reporter, about that mysterious project Variety mentioned the other day. According to them, both Jake Gyllenhaal and Jessica Biel are "attached" to Nailed, a "risque political satire" to be directed by David O. Russell.

Risque political satire.

That sounds refreshing, actually. Except the political part. I love Jake's selectivity and principled choices, but he's already being pigeonholed by some critics as too political. Anyway, that's not the point. The point I was gonna make has to do with HR's description of the plot.

Biel would play Sammy Joyce, a socially awkward small-town receptionist who has a nail accidentally shot into her head by a clumsy workman, eliciting wild sexual urges.

The uninsured Joyce goes on a crusade to Washington to fight for the rights of the bizarrely injured. She meets an immoral congressman (Gyllenhaal) who takes advantage of her sex drive and capitalizes on her crusade as Joyce heads into her own career in politics.

Ugh.

For those who are wondering why I'm not on my knees thanking god or whatever powers responsible that Jake is guaranteed to have a sex scene if this movie happens, please allow me to explain. No, actually, I think this Cinema Blend post effectively demonstrates it well enough. I'm not saying I make the same assumption that Josh Tyler has, only that his take is completely reasonable and probably not unique.

But I said I was trying to be positive, so here goes. First, Jake's potential role sounds smarmy and somewhat villainous, which would be absolutely delicious. Second, yeah, the probable (I hate to jinx it by saying inevitable) sex scene(s). Yes, I really did mean to put that second. Because as much as I fantasize about Jake and would love to be helped along by some new material, the context does matter to me. And third, satire. That's even better than a romcom, if you ask me, as long as it's well-written and directed. So, my intrigue at the floated title has grown into guarded optimism that the project will not be dismissed by critics based on its synopsis and will actually become something keen and titillating at the same time.

That is, if it happens at all. I don't know what the rules are in Hollywood. What needs to transpire before someone can say an actor is "attached" to his or her project, anyway? A phone call to someone's agent to see if they're interested? A pie-in-the-sky wish? HR clearly states that no contracts exist, yet.

Meanwhile, there's confusion about whether Brothers has already begun filming, like, last week, or today, or when. IMDb still says principal photography begins on November 27, while posters to the site's message board say trailers for the actors are already setup onsite at the College of Santa Fe in New Mexico. That Jake suddenly shaved off the beard he's been telling everyone was grown specifically for this movie has certainly added to the confusion. My friends know I always thought the beard was premature anyway, probably half for some kind of Brothers pre-production and half for the orneriness of keeping it when everyone seemed to be complaining. Whether the beard was only needed for scenes that have already been filmed, will reappear soon, or was never meant for the movie to begin with (maybe he just said that to stop people from asking about it), it's nice to have something vitally important to debate again.

It's love

What you want and what is the truth are always two different things. -- Jake Gyllenhaal

Sweetheart, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Well, maybe I could have, but I wouldn't have looked nearly as good saying it.

Evidence that Rendition is still playing in at least one major metropolitan area: for whatever reason, this interview with Jake (the source of the quote above), which I'm guessing was taped in Toronto during the film festival, just appeared today on the Chicago CBS affiliate's website. Of course, they may have aired it earlier for all I know, since I do not live in Chicago.

Anyway, as you can see, I'm here, having not killed myself as promised. It's hard to estimate just how strangers reading my words have interpreted my depression; some would say I should not worry about what others think of me, but I'm suddenly feeling the need to express a very important fact about what's been happening to me. I want everyone to know, and understand, the truth: I was not made suicidal by the sudden revelation that Jake Gyllenhaal was romantically involved with someone.

I've been depressed for most of my life, clinically. On medication, which you may have noticed me joking about more than once. When the chemicals in your brain are imbalanced like mine, almost anything can trigger a deep trough, a black period in which life literally loses all meaning. In this case, the last in a series of mental health tripwires was my self-assessment in the wake of my reaction to the relationship "news." Unfortunately, knowing why you are depressed does not, contrary to what might seem logical, make the depression go away. My medication has been adjusted, and while the improvement so far can more likely be attributed to yet another mood swing than the meds, I feel better knowing I will feel better.

Positive signs:

1. I have not cried all day today. No, wait, that's not exactly true. I did weep a little after watching Mask on cable. Oh, and again at the end of Stranger Than Fiction. I was drawn into it by Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal (whose performance left me talking back to Jake's image on my computer monitor--Your sister fucking rocks, baby!). Is it just me, or is Will Ferrell the most utterly charmless film star ever? On the Charm Continuum, if Jake Gyllenhaal is at one extreme (given), Ferrell is definitely at the other, infinitely dissipating extreme. But I digress.
2. I'm starting to look forward to moving to California again.
3. Best of all, I found myself smiling uncontrollably while downloading all those images of Jake that I've been meaning to grab...including those featuring him with Reese Witherspoon.

To my great relief, in fact, I have been grinning, laughing and squeeing over Jake all day long. The concept that he might actually be as wonderful as he seems is no longer irrationally unsettling to me. I still love him, more than ever, and I'm grateful all over again for the pleasure he brings to my life. Wanting to be with him won't make it come true, but it fills the gaps with a perfect sweetness.

Photos: jakegyllenhaalfan.com, IHJ.