As you can imagine, radical Christians are predisposed to dislike Folsom. Queer Folk? Sex-related paraphernalia? San Francisco? Fun???? “No way, man,” the evangelicals cried out to heaven, “that’s just too much.”
This time around, though, they were particularly peeved over the official poster for the event. It satirized Leonard da Vinci’s Last Supper, only with a cow-hide theme. Spokesmen for the Concerned Women of America expressed their outrage – OUTRAGE! In the end, almost nobody took notice of the radical Christians’ rambilings except (ironically) the queer folk (like myself).
So much of the controversy confused me. For instance, the spokesman for the Concerned Women of America was, well, a man. Actually, I don’t think that I have heard any concerned women speak for the organization. Maybe they are living out the ideal that the radical Christians really want for women. Women shouldn't actually be out in public in their own organizations. No, no! Radical Christian women should be locked away in their houses making Jell-O all day (in a concerned sort of way). And they say we are the kinky ones.
Then I was confused that radical Christians had decided that a fifteenth-century Italian painting had become biblical. The do know that Jesus didn’t actually pose for that drawing, right? When did they start considering it sacred? I can’t be sure, but somehow I think Dan Brown is to blame for this.
Perhaps the most baffling element in the whole story was that the radical Christians threatened to boycott Miller beer for sponsoring the Folsom Street Fair. Isn’t “not drinking” one of the deals about being a radical Christian? So, their boycotting a brewery is a little like Mary Cheney boycotting Trojan Condoms or George W. Bush threatening to boycott the local library. They don’t seem to understand that you have to actually buy the product in the first place for a boycott to be effective.
Whatever the case, radical Christians have been itching for a Culture War for decades now. I say that we give them one. If there is any type of war I condone, it’s a cultural one. It always conjures images of a battlefield strewn with oil paintings and garden fountains.
Well, if the Christians want to claim da Vinci’s Last Supper, I say we give it to them. We will keep our first-amendment right of free speech off of it. That means, however, that they have to agree to hand over several queer sacred objects to us as well. These are some of our most holy relics and they must no longer be profaned by the heathen and undeserving right-wing hetero Christians:
Gloria Gaynor's “I Will Survive”
Sure, other disco songs would have made more sense as an acknowledged queer anthem (“I’m Coming Out,” for instance). When one thinks about it, “I Will Survive” is basically a rant about how horrible relationships usually end up. The sacred queer apostles, however, decided that “I Will Survive” was the queer gospel. As a result, it must be played at least once per night at every queer club from Lubec, Maine to Ozette, Washington. It’s simply no use for us queer folk to like or dislike the song. We are required to acknowledge the ritual without question. Kind of like most religion.
From what I understand, radical Christians have brainwashed Gloria Gaynor with their message. We’re going to require that they hand her over to us queer boys. She will also need to convert to atheism. Radical Christians, though, are more than welcome to listen to Tobey Keith. He’s all yours.
Midcentury Lesbian Pulp Fiction
These novels first appeared as something marketed to titillate hetero men. Their miraculous nature was only discovered later when lots of lesbian women used them as a means to break free of their suburban closets. Now they are part of the lesbian exodus story.
As part of our queer purification of society, we are going to need all of these texts turned over to the holy Sisters of Cunnilingus for safe keeping. Actually, while we are the subject, all lesbian sex is strictly the intellectual property of actual lesbians (or the otherwise queer-identified). Take heed, hetero men: No more porn, jokes, or fantasies about lesbians having sex. They didn’t invent it for you.
Some claim that Mr. Clean is the Messiah. Others argue that he is just a prophet who brought forward an important message from the goddess. Whatever the case, we all worship at his feet. He is kinky like that.
Radical Christians must henceforth live in filth in recognition that they are not worthy enough to emulate Prophet Clean. They aren’t fit to lick his lemony-fresh boot.
Let’s be honest, it’s only the queer boys and the ‘roid heads who keep any gym financially afloat. Often times, those two groups are really the same people anyway.
Becoming addicted to the gym is one of the queer sacraments. Then we get over it and go soft and squishy again. In the meantime, though, I am sick and tired of homophobic straight men cluttering up my gym space. Yeah, I am speaking about the bizarre guy who showers at my gym wearing shorts. For him, it’s all about his fear of gay men checking him out. What he doesn’t realize, though, is that we are much more likely to be judgmental about his chest, arms, and legs before we would even consider his penis.
All of that unpleasantness could be avoided, though, if gyms became queer-only spaces. Let us worship in peace.
Mary Tyler Moore
Yes, the show centered on a heterosexual woman. We all know, though, that it is one of the most sanctified images for queer men (of a certain age). Mary lived the perfect gay man's life. She had a kickin' apartment, drove a hot Mustang, and dated lots of men. So, she didn't have a penis. Must gay men always be defined by their genitalia?
Gay men (of a certain age) hold Mary in high esteem indeed. Need evidence? I remember one incident from Torn's blog. Rummage through comments in one of his older posts and you will find a lively debate over the exact words to the theme song that transpired among queer male readers. It almost turned into a Thirty Years War when the literalists demanded perfect recitation.
For gay men (of a certain age), singing the Mary Tyler Moore theme song is like doing the stations of the cross. It's ours. Besides, I am pretty sure that a radical Christian never turned the world on with his or her smile.
The U.S. Navy
In the world of queer religion, the U.S. Navy is like our religious order. It’s killing me not to make a joke about “seamen,” but this cultural war stuff is serious business. I will restrain myself.
When I was in grad school, I went with a friend to her brother’s graduation from the Naval training camp outside of Chicago. From that ceremony, it seems that naval training involves learning to sing, dance, tie festive knots, and dazzle crowds with silk flags. Plus, the Navy has more costume changes than a Cher concert. It’s all very queer already. Let's make it official! Radical Christians can keep the guns, though.
Any Image of Naked Men Produced Ever, Ever
That’s right – From the first caveman’s scribble of his dangle on a wall, to Michelangelo's David, through beefcake mags from the fifties, all representations of naked men belong to us, the practicing queer men of the world.
Such images of male beauty should not be dishonored with radical Christians' unappreciative eyes. Who churned out all of those priceless works of art? The heteros? I.Don’t.Think.So. It was us queer men who devoted ourselves to lovingly studying every detail of men’s anatomy. The world of art owes us a debt for mapping men's bodies. Come to think of it, any man who looks at himself in the mirror should pay us a fee.
Radical Christians are more than welcome to keep Jesus. Why would we want to hang around that closet case and have to deal with his martyr complex? B - O - R - I - N - G.
Mary, though, is one of us! Let’s see – A young woman who never had sex with men and yet still gave birth? Then she took a tour of Egypt? I can only imagine that it was an Olivia Cruise that sailed her down the Nile.
From my perspective, it seems like Mary was the first lesbian to open a spermbank. Granted, it was a cosmic spermbank, but she knew what she wanted. Radical Christianity is just going to have to do without Jesus's mom.