This perfect timing is just one of the Video Music Awards’ many strengths. All in all, despite the lack of a Britney Spears python attack, the 2001 VMAs retained their position as the best-orchestrated tv event in Viacom’s arsenal (MTV, VH1, Nickelodeon, etc.), and perhaps the best in the world. The advertising blitz began midsummer, establishing this year’s format of colored silhouettes and strange "VMA" script that had the "A" looking like a "2." (Wired magazine deserves some credit here for pioneering the use of unreadable fonts in 1993.) Then those 2000 Britney Spears striptease clips greatly spiced up the highlights of past VMAs, which were shown incessantly on MTV. And finally, Jamie Foxx emerged as host, which was good since he’s actually, well, funny. Stir and what do you get? The front page of the New York Post, which gives the dirt on the VMAs and Oscars cover treatment every year.

But pssst. If you want the real dirt, you have to go to www.GroupieCentral.com, where no-holds-barred backstage awards show reports are one of many priceless features. "Someone please tell Creed that they’re the only rock band that makes boring Dick Clark look like a party animal. Creed is so boring that after the show they probably went went [sic] to sleep in time for their curfew, but not before praying and having cookies and milk," reads the site on the 2001 American Music Awards.

A feature on this year’s VMAs should be up soon at www.groupiecentral.com/newsawards.html. Until then, read about other shows, but enter at your own risk: this site will suck hours out of your life and you’ll learn things you never wanted to know about Billie Joe Armstrong.

...If the VMAs didn’t satisfy your jones for attractive bodies, look to photographer Douglas Davis, whose Moral Pornography show opens in the Courthouse Gallery of Anthology Film Archives this Thursday. "Moral Pornography" is one of those concepts that overstimulated artists have been pushing for years–23 years, to be exact, since British author Angela Carter called for "an artist who uses pornographic material as part of the acceptance of the logic of a world of absolute sexual license for all of the genders." Yeah. What "Moral Pornography" really means is that you can look at dirty photos in a gallery without shame because, you know, they’re shot from the point of view of the guy’s big toe and that never happens in real porn.

The genre does have two masterpieces: the art books Naked Pictures of My Ex-Girlfriends and Digital Diaries by Mark Helfrich and Natacha Merrit, respectively. These volumes purport to be real-life snapshots of promiscuity, with Helfrich photographing women he bedded between 1970 and 1980 and Merrit using a digital camera to document her 90s love life, but both reek of overscripting. Helfrich’s, in fact, is fake–he got models made up to look like they were from the 70s and fooled everyone from Amazon.com to Time. No matter. Both books are hot, entertaining and NC-17, but just arty enough to keep under your coffee table. Get them.

Douglas Davis’ work looks like it could have been excerpted from Digital Diaries. Models are shot from the ground up, strange parts (folds of legs, backs of knees) are sexualized, and the artist himself appears in some pictures (when will this 90s conceit die?). The angles are arresting, as is the use of discontinuous mirrors, and even if you get bored, a reception for new experimental films goes on at 7:30. This happens Thursday, when the Moral Pornography opening runs from 6-9 p.m. at Anthology Film Archives (32 2nd Ave. at 2nd St., 505-5181).

...Now, Coney Island might seem like a daunting and foolish destination this time of year, but it’s actually a good call for several reasons. First of all, the ocean is about as warm as it’s going to get. That’s because sea water absorbs and retains heat better than dirt or air, stupid–right now it’s sizzling with the reflected fervor of this August’s heatwave. Also, since Astroland Park is winding down, those carnival game operators are mercifully absent; they won’t be bugging you to win a prize for your "wife" or pushing darts in your palm. And the Q diamond train, which probably just confuses you in Manhattan, runs express to Brighton Beach, three stops from Coney, with travel time from Park Slope a mere 30 minutes.

The best reason to go to Coney Island right now, though, is an appearance by one Joe Ferdenzi, president of the Greater City Aquarium Society, at the New York Aquarium’s Education Hall. Ferdenzi is like the Emeril of fish. He’s coming down to auction off freshwater species to enthusiastic aquarists and present slides of his "Ultimate Fish Room," a personal near-museum that houses 80 tanks ranging in size from 20 to 125 gallons.

Free parking, raffles and fish food samples will be yours once you get to the New York Aquarium (Surf Ave. & W. 8th St., Coney Island, 718-837-4455). Do watch out for the free samples–in addition to being the start of the Aquarium’s speaking season, it’s Food Safety Education Month. Joe Ferdenzi’s fish talk is Friday in the Education Hall at 7:30. There’s a $5 donation.

...Meanwhile, Charlie Hunter, the jazz guitarist who curses himself with the tag "innovative," comes to the B B King Blues Club (237 W. 42nd St., betw. 7th & 8th Aves., 997-4144) on Sunday. Hunter ought to bill himself as "the most amazing frickin’ thing you will ever see," because that’s what he is–the Berkeley native plays bass and guitar at the same time with a special instrument of his own design. Hunter’s Frankenstein ax has five guitar strings on the bottom and three bass strings on top, which he plucks in time while he noodles; give the man a drummer and he’ll knock out jazz standards all night while the bassist drinks in the corner.

Hunter comes to B B King’s with a side project called Garage-A-Trois featuring Galactic drummer Stanton Moore and keyboardist Sherik (no, not Shrek). They put out an amazing, all-live EP called MysteryFunk in 1999 that sounds like Jimi Hendrix playing over Massive Attack, so it’s good to see them cashing in a little. (They probably didn’t expect it; this is a side, side project with song titles like "Chupacadabra" and Hunter listed in the liner notes as "El Balzac.")

B B King’s, by the way, is rumored to be on its last legs. Luckily Hunter has enough clout to play Bowery Ballroom later this month with his regular three-piece band and a guest vocalist in support of his forthcoming record, Songs from the Analog Playground. The show starts at 8 and it’s standing room only, $20. And man, Charlie Hunter doesn’t need a python.