Get off my gay white ass!
All this talk of the homollennium (what else would you
call it?) has given my nads a severe case of the egads.
Yes, of course I adore TV's faux fags, and I just can't
get enough of bare-butted boy bands filling the glossy pages
of my favorite fashion magazines.
But now that my very own queer culture is considered a
full-blown marketing trend, I don't want anything to do
with it.
It's become so bad that I'm thinking of doing something
drastic. It's time I tell everyone that (drum roll, please!)
I am a closet heterosexual.
Although I have never been with a woman (and no matter
how much titty you shove in my face, I never will be), the
whole idea of suggesting that I have magically become "straight"
sounds almost shocking in these days of transgendered teens
and cock-sucking congressmen. I mean, it was almost 20 years
ago that I came out to the tune of Laura Branigan's "Gloria."
Those were the (relatively) STD-free days of fan dancers,
handlebar mustaches and being gay 24-7. It wasn't a trend,
it was just who we were and who we happened to be doing.
But don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about our acceptance
into the mainstream. I actually relish the fact that in
most cities we can walk down the street holding hands and
giggle out loud at straight people kissing. What bugs me
is the notion that we have been reduced to sound bites on
Entertainment Tonight and have become the latest
background noise in the buzzy world of pop culture.
The backs of homos should be the last playground for middle
America.
Take, for example, weddings. Every time I have to raise
my arms to form a "Y," "M," "C" and a you-know-what at one
of these things I can't help but snicker--and not in a good
way. In the old days, that song celebrated anonymous sex
between dudes in the bowels of a men-only gym, not the undying
love of a man and woman.
And what about queer dance clubs?
It's been a very long time since gay men came together
on a Portland dance floor without the prying eyes of straight-looking
lookey-loo's giving them their nod of approval.
Sure, we've come a long way.
But where the hell did we think we were going?
Did we spend all this time working on our God-given right
to find ourselves only to end up just like straight people?
I don't think so.
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