Last night I happened to be watching David Letterman, and John Malkovich was a guest. Malkovich was actually really funny, and he told several stories about his family, including his daughter inviting scads of her teenage friends to his house in France. Then he told a story about how his mom saw a picture of his nephew’s dog, and she said, “Is that Bob Dylan? No, it’s Sting.” Needless to say, I nearly fell over.

Oddly enough, this is pretty close to what originally started the whole idea of “Temple of Sting” many years ago: my friend kept randomly insisting everyone was Sting. I then suddenly began to see the actual Sting everywhere, and would point out, “Now, that is Sting!” Then I began to wonder why Sting seemed to be ubiquitous, then I became obsessed with bees, and you know the rest. Maybe Malkovich’s mom is actually a Temple of Sting reader?! That would be a logical explanation for her comment.

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Well, folks, apparently Sting and co. have gone ahead and retired the money making machine known as the Police. According to Stereogum, the Police reunion tour earned the aging rockers $358,825,665. Hey, Sting, have you considered donating some of that money to colony collapse disorder research? After all, without the bees, you wouldn’t have your famous nickname.

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Once again, Sting and his cohorts the Police announce that they are touring, and specifically playing New York City, and immediately bees go into action!

On Wednesday, a swarm of bees took over a newspaper box on the Upper East Side. Emergency Services were called but hung back, and somehow “bee whisperer” Jim Fischer, a volunteer at the Bronx Zoo, was called in (who knew there was a “bee whisperer?”)

He said he sprayed water on them so they wouldn’t fly.“This is a swarm,” he said. “This is how bees reproduce. The hive breaks in half and bees swarm around the old queen. Somewhere around here, there’s another hive of bees. We just don’t know where.”

This reminds me of the time bees swarmed onto a tree on my block in Brooklyn. While everyone else seemed surprised and alarmed, I was fascinated (”look, a bee tree!”), and knew exactly where the bees had come from (a man who keeps bees on his roof). A few days later, the bees were gone. My explanation was that they had saved up enough money (or perhaps honey?) to put down 20% on a co-op.

Tags: Brooklyn, Conspiracy theories, Sting, Bees by janine
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Brooklynvegan informs us that the Police (as in, the band fronted by Sting, not the NYPD) are meeting with Mayor Bloomberg today to “make a very special announcement in New York City’s Times Square.” (The most hilarious comment on that post, by the way, is “Maybe Bloomberg is going to pardon Sting for the entire output of his solo career.”)

A press release about the exact nature of this announcement should be up on the New York City website shortly, but as of now there’s merely an announcement about new ferry service to/from Manhattan and Far Rockaway - suitable for Mayor Bloomberg to meet with the Ramones, but not the Police.

Update:  From NYC.gov: 

MAYOR BLOOMBERG, STING AND THE POLICE ANNOUNCE CONTRIBUTION TO MILLIONTREESNYC AND REVEAL THAT THEIR LAST EVER CONCERT WILL TAKE PLACE IN NEW YORK CITY TO BENEFIT LOCAL PUBLIC TELEVISION STATIONS

$2 Million Contribution to MillionTreesNYC - $1 Million Pledged by The Police, an Amount Matched by the City - Will Plant 10,000 New Trees and Help Reforest 2,000 Acres

Final Concert Will Raise Funds for Thirteen / WNET and WLIW New York 

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 TMZ reports:

According to a police report filed by Roy Smith, Sting heard him singing at Molly’s Garden Restaurant back in 1977 (or 1978, Smith can’t quite remember), thought he was good, and asked him to hang out.

They stopped at a 7-Eleven for beer (Sting, at a 7-Eleven?) and hung out for hours in Sting’s basement. During that time, Smith told Sting about an ex-girlfriend of his named Roxanne, who was a prostitute. Smith also explained how after his father died, he wrote his mom messages, which he put in a bottle. Just like in the song! Oh, right …

Smith claims Sting agreed to give him royalties for the songs, but never did. Here is the best part — Smith claims Sting tried to contact him, through his mom, but she didn’t pass along the messages because she thought the real police were after her son!

Smith has contacted Sting’s lawyers, who deny all the allegations. He also filed a report with the Reno P.D. last month. The fuzz tells TMZ, “Initial review of the report indicates that the statute of limitations of any potential crime in this matter has expired. The alleged victim may have to pursue the matter through civil litigation.” Good luck.

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According to the NY Post,

STING now owns more than $50 million worth of apartments on Central Park West. Public records show the musician has just paid $26.5 million for a 16th-floor apartment at 15 CPW in his given name, Gordon Sumner, reports The Post’s Braden Keil. He and wife Trudie Styler already own a place at 88 CPW that had been for sale at $24 million but that was taken off the market after their broker, Linda Stein, was murdered. The pop rocker has expressed his reluctance to leave the 18-room duplex co-op that he bought from Billy Joel in the 1980s. “I’m not sure I’m ready to sell,” he previously told The Post. “I’ve had a lot of inspiration here.”

I already knew that Sting owned property on Central Park West - years ago, back when TOS was a print ‘zine, someone told me a story about attending a fundraiser at Sting’s NYC apartment and how he stole one of Sting’s toothbrushes at said party.

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Oh my my, this picture of Sting’s bedroom in his Manhattan apartment made my husband comment “It makes me want Italian food.” I love how Sting is always bragging about his skillz in the sack, visiting brothels and strip clubs… and now, we get a special peek at where the MAGIC HAPPENS, BABY!

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 The NY Post’s Page Six reports:

November 1, 2007 — STING unwound after his reunion gig with the Police at the Garden in the wee hours of yesterday morning with entertainment by the ecdysiasts at Scores East. The singer and two male buddies arrived at the mammary mecca after midnight and were quickly sequestered in the Champagne Lounge with six private dancers dressed festively in sexy little Halloween costumes. The group then moved to a private room to keep the party going.

 When is Sting not partying with strippers? This is news?!

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Well, Temple of Sting is in complete agreement on this one! Blender came up with a list of The 40 Worst Lyricists in Rock and decided that Sting was the worst of them all:

Mountainous pomposity, cloying spirituality, ham-handed metaphors: He can do it all.It didn’t have to turn out this way. In the Police, Sting wore ripped T-shirts and wrote catchy new-wave songs about hookers. Sure, he name-dropped Nabokov in “Don’t Stand So Close to Me,” but he balanced it with the awesomely post-lingual “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da.” But once publications labeled him “The Thinking Woman’s Sex Symbol,” a low-watt lightbulb popped on in his head, illuminating the way toward a self-serious future. Sting would go on to rip off Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, St. Augustine’s Confessions … even Shakespeare.After the Police split, Sting pursued a second career liberating soccer moms from their “soul cages.” Jazz musicians were involved. A lute was purchased. Volvo bumper stickers were quoted (“If you love someone, set them free”). Surveying the Cold War, he found the West “conditioned to respond to all the threats/In the rhetorical speeches of the Soviets.” His rage at Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet was so heated, he castigated the scoundrel in Spanish. Holy frijoles, was Sting mad!

These searing insights befit a sociopolitical seer “cursed with X-ray vision”—and capable of doing folkloric parables about seventh sons and mystical fisherman and taking us on journeys from the battlefields of World War I to the ancient kingdoms of “the high Sahara.” But does Sting care? He doth not. He’s the King of Pain, kids. And no pain, no gain.

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On October 2, 1951, a new evil arose in the world. Gordon Sumner, who you now know as Sting, was born. To this day, he rules the world with his invisible iron fist, causing the destruction of bees through colony collapse disorder and inflicting his terrible music upon the world.

 Oh, and apparently Trudie got Sting…. strippers for his birthday ? That’s totally klassy!

Tags: Conspiracy theories, Sting by janine
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