Reporter Brandon K. Thorp explains how his investigation into the "lavender mob" running the Catholic Archdiocese of Miami —published here earlier today—came to be, and why the existence of a lively and hidden gay subculture within an institution devoted in part to demonizing homosexuals is an untenable and corrosive hypocrisy.
John C. Favalora is a sallow old man who looks like the corpse of Dom DeLuise. He likes attractive young men to sit on his lap and allegedly treats them to trips in the Florida Keys. He was, until recently, part owner of a company that makes "all natural" boner-inducing beverages. He's also the Archbishop Emeritus of Miami.
Here, published for the first time, are excerpts from "Miami Vice: A Preliminary Report on the Financial, Spiritual, and Sexual Improprieties of the Clergy of the Miami Archdiocese." The report, which lays out in clinical investigative detail the extent to which the Archdiocese of Miami had become a hotbed of gay sex and corruption under the administration of Archbishop John C. Favalora, was produced by a group of frustrated conservative Miami Catholics who call themselves Christifidelis. The full report numbers more than 400 pages; we have published a 109-page selection from its nine chapters and four appendices. In cases where we could not substantiate its claims about particular individuals, we have redacted information to render them unidentifiable.
Enjoy the box office numbers, the comforting bottle of tequila riding shotgun on your drunken, high-speed, anti-Semitic thrill ride through Malibu:
A Defamer operative sends us a party report from the Miami Vice premiere, where Brett Ratner held court in the men's room as a hammered Michelle Rodriguez unsuccessfully tried to talk her way inside, and the secret language of Shaq's handshake rituals was finally revealed.
The canned, corny tedium of The Tonight Show was interrupted last night when a female audience member walked on stage and approached Colin Farrell, who was there to promote Miami Vice. While the confrontation never made it to air, a witness recalled, "She said something to Colin Farrell that no one heard, then he took her by the elbow, led her off stage, asked the cameramen to turn off their cameras and asked for security." Access Hollywood.com is now reporting that the woman in question is Dessarae Bradford, author of the classic of the celebrity-stalking-fruitcake canon, My S/M Romp With Alec Baldwin, and singer of "Colin Farrell is My Bitch (I Fucked Alec Baldwin in His Ass)," streaming as we speak on her MySpace page.
Over at Slate, NPR's Kim Masters offers a fairly lengthy recounting of the many problems that plagued the set of Michael Mann's Miami Vice, such as a) its crazy, exacting director, b) disastrous weather events that threatened production (who could have seen that coming while filming in Miami during hurricane season?), and c) a shooting while on location in the Dominican Republic. The article's money shot is the revelation that the aforementioned gunplay convinced Jamie Foxx, the film's egomaniac, award-winning star, that his new Oscar-derived superpowers did not include the ability to deflect bullets with his bare abs—a realization that sent him fleeing for the safety of the United States and forced Mann to shoot an ending that could accommodate Foxx's diva-like refusal to be assassinated on foreign soil. Reports Masters:
Early this morning, Universal Pictures issued this press release involving an incident near the Miami Vice location shoot in the Dominican Republic:
