Give Praise and Thanks

I could continue this blog focusing on Texas’s problems indefinitely. November 22, for instance, marks the 43 anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s bloody death in Dallas, Texas. Now I am not saying that was the entire state of Texas’s fault. I just point out that New Mexico never had a president blown away on our grounds. Maybe a few governors here and there had to go, but never did New Mexico take out a commander in chief. I am just sayin'.

Still, I know even something that feels so right, like bashing Texas, can get old. Instead, I want to show my shared spirit with my fellow country men and women this week. No, I am not talking about participating in Friday’s skull-crushing violence to get one of those creepy animatronic Elmos. No, no. I am thinking about U.S. Thanksgiving on Thursday.

Even though I smugly like to think of me as being a bit different, there’s no escaping that I am a total American. Sometimes that makes me feel dirty and want to spend hours in the shower trying to wash the stink of imperialism off of my body. This week, though, it makes me want to pause and give thanks for the things that I appreciate in my life. Of course, being an American, I also know that no matter how good something is, I can always complain about it not being as good as possible. To really be an American, I would probably figure out a way to sue somebody as well.

Here are the things that make me thankful and my ideas about how each could be even better:

What Makes Me Thankful: Nancy Pelosi, a Democrat, will soon be the first woman Speaker of House.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Bush and Cheney suddenly resigning and disappearing from the public eye forever, thus making Pelosi the first woman U.S. President.

What Makes Me Thankful: Living in the Greater Boston Area this year.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Not Returning to Texas in the Fall.

What Makes Me Thankful: Vodka
What Could Make Me More Thankful: More Vodka

What Makes Me Thankful: Xanax
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If Xanax came packaged with a vodka mini.

What Makes Me Thankful: TaB
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If TaB didn’t cause cancer – or hurt my kidneys when I drank it.

What Makes Me Thankful: New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment, don’t you know?
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If New Mexico opened its borders to unlimited migration from Mexico, but sealed itself from any additional incursions from Texas – Or Oklahoma – Or Colorado – Or Utah – Or Northern Arizona.

What Makes Me Thankful: Meeting all sorts of great people through my little bloggy.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If all those great people would consistently refer to me as “The Most Desirable Man on the Blogosphere.” Or, in lieu of that, they could just send vodka.

What Makes Me Thankful: Battlestar Galactica’s smart writing and storylines.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: A new storyline that required all Galactica’s male crew members to do their jobs without shirts. Well, all male crew members except Edward James Olmos. Nobody wants to see that pocked-faced mess without a top.

What Makes Me Thankful: Cat, my feline companion.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If Cat learned how to operate the vacuum or scrub the bathtub. He could really contribute more to the apartment’s daily operation.

What Makes Me Thankful: A giant turkey dinner at the end of November.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Serving that dinner with a side of vodka.

What Makes Me Thankful: Being gay. If I wasn’t gay, I wouldn’t be able to date men. That just seems sad to me.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Religious zealots receiving a divine revelation that queer people are neither better nor worse than everybody else. We just dress better than everybody else.

What Makes Me Thankful: Dishwasher technology.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If, while scrubbing my plates, my dishwasher also distilled vodka.

What Makes Me Thankful: Being free of Liar Ex (Who Told Many Lies) in my day-to-day life. I wouldn’t have predicted it a year ago when he cowardly and thoughtlessly tore my heart out, but my life has vastly improved without him around – Seriously. Who knew?
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Finally getting rid of that God-forsaken Texas house that we still own jointly. Yes, God actually forsook it.

What Makes Me Thankful: Living in a city with a mostly-functional public transportation system.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Living closer to a T station – or closer to a liquor store that sold a variety of vodka -- whichever. Why be greedy?

What Makes Me Thankful: James Dean’s iconic status.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If Giant wasn’t so god-damn long.


What Makes Me Thankful: Gay porn.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If the porn industry didn’t seem so exploitative and riddled with drug dependency -- uh, in the bad way.

What Makes Me Thankful: Three years of Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If the new Wonder Woman comic would finally dump the disastrous and horrific idea of making Donna Troy Wonder Woman. Yuck! Nobody likes Donna Troy. We only care about Diana, DC. Shouldn’t Donna be watching an orb of power or something on a remote planet where nobody ever goes?

What Makes Me Thankful: All Natural Fibers
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If I could afford a higher thread-count sheet set -- or sleep in some guy's bed who has a higher thread count.

What Makes Me Thankful: Cranberries (the New England produce, not the Irish Band (although...))
What Could Make Me More Thankful: Cranberry juice + vodka

What Makes Me Thankful: Access to Harvard’s astounding Library
What Could Make Me More Thankful: The absence of Harvard’s entitled students.

What Makes Me Thankful: Lube
What Could Make Me More Thankful: If mainstream television ads for lube stopped pretending that heteros are lube’s biggest consumers.

What's the Matter with Texas -- Part Three

By now it should be clear that I have little desire to return to Texas. My experiences with that state suggest that hate, greed, and fear are cherished much more than a basic commitment to human or civil rights. Yet, I think more is at play than just my reluctance to move back to Texas. Well, okay, these posts are mostly about my reluctance to move back to Texas. I also see Texas, though, as making visible the problems faced by the entire U.S. Texas might appear extreme on the surface, but I am not convinced that it is really that anomalous. Rather than dismissing it as a backwater hickville, Texas shows the direction the rest of the U.S. will take if white conservative Evangelical Christians are permitted to reign unchecked.

Take, for example, events that have transpired since the first post of this series. One might have hoped that the revelation of a blackface-video produced at Texas A&M University would challenge all students on campus to reconsider race and racism. Certainly concerned faculty and some students have held many discussions about the campus climate. Robert Gates, the university’s president (and Bush’s current nominee for Secretary for Defense), vigorously condemned the video’s blatant racism. Only a few days later, though, Latino students in Hobby Hall, one of A&M’s residence dorms, awoke to find that their fellow students marked swastikas on their doors.

Obviously, given the size of the state, I don’t mean to imply that every single person in Texas has an allegiance to Karl Rove and/or the Ku Klux Klan. Pockets exist of reasonable people. They, though, are far, far, far outnumbered by those who seek, at best, self-satisfaction and, at worst, the misery of others.

Don’t bother bringing up Austin, either. That pitiful city’s reputation wrongly benefits because it is surrounded by fanatical conservative muck. Austin simply wouldn’t qualify as a “liberal” city in a global competition. In reality, Austin is merely “less conservative” than the rest of Texas. Residents of Austin are also shockingly provincial and often refuse to interrogate their complicity with the status quo in Texas. Yes, I might have anti-Austin agenda. That aside, the last news incident that caught my attention suggests not only Texas’s serious problems, but also the Left’s inability to develop effective strategies to grapple with such a state.

Even The New York Times picked up the story of the Houston-landscaping company Garden Guy and its refusal to work with a gay male couple. Like many Americans, Garden Guy’s husband-and-wife owners, Sabrina and Todd Farber, follow a branch of Christianity that fosters a hatred of gays and lesbians. The owner of the business drew on these beliefs when responding to a gay couple’s request for Garden Guy to bid on a landscaping contract for their new house. “I need to tell you,” Sabrina Farber wrote in an e-mail, “that we cannot meet with you because we choose not to work for homosexuals."

After receiving that note, the gay couple sent it to two hundred of their e-mail friends. Those initial two hundred, in turn, sent it thousands of others. The story, as a result, got some “legs.” Soon, the news media picked up the story. Farber was shocked – SHOCKED! – that queer people would be offended by her refusal to work with them.

This story, though, left me with some ambivalent feelings. Obviously the main issue centers on whether businesses like Garden Guy have the right to discriminate against queers. Sabrina Farber’s lack of shame about announcing that queers are less deserving of respect than heterosexuals warrants attention. It also reminds us that one goal in reforming the public sector is to ensure that any business open to the public can’t pick and choose who they want to serve.



Still, I am not confident that this particular incident warranted the attention it received. Before the news story hit big, I received an e-mail about it. My reaction then still holds today: The inability of a middle-class gay couple to get some crazy Christian to plant their Azaleas just doesn’t rank as the critical civil rights issue of our times. Queers facing violent persecution, lack of medical care, and an inability to maintain employment strike me as slightly more important than roses and daffodils.

Don’t get me wrong, some good changes came from this incident. For one, the media took some time to point out that discrimination against queer people still exists. Queer folk in Texas hardly found this “news,” but many heteros reacted with surprise. Anything that can get queer folk onto the majority’s radar has value.

Moreover, the incident also prompted the Association of Professional Landscapers to adopt a non-discrimination clause that included sexual orientation. In the future, members of that organization will be expected to abide by this provision.

Still, the incident revealed a Left that largely lacked leadership or even a certainty of our basic goals. The gay couple initially involved in the incident has shunned speaking with the press. They have not articulated clear motives nor an active agenda. Other queer leaders have yet to materialize.

Given that the Farbers already refused to work with queer people, an economic boycott would be largely ineffective. If somebody refuses to take your money in the first place, it’s hard to strike at their pocketbook by refusing to give them any money. The Farbers had also long-ago given up their membership in the Association of Professional Landscapers, so changes in that organization were moot.

Moreover, a few people hurt our cause by threatening the Farbers through their web-page or via e-mail. Nothing will turn sympathy against queer folk more than telling a hetero Christian family that they “should be sodomized” and/or put to death. Some even threatened violence against the Farbers’ children. What the fuck, people? That’s not at all helpful.

Within Houston, the Left’s lack of direction and threats to the Farbers created an image of them as the victims. Reportedly, the Garden Guy only lost $500 worth of business because of their homophobic stance. Yet, they have picked up another $40,000 worth of business from other hateful Texan bigots.

To have made this incident more effective, queer leaders needed to move the discussion away from the Farbers as individuals. Instead, we need to focus the blame for this type of hate on the state and federal governments. The Farbers discriminated against gays and lesbians as customers because the current legal structure in Texas permits them to do so (with the exception of some weak city ordinances in Dallas and Austin). Indeed, Texas actually provides incentives to discriminate against gays and lesbians. The Farbers have reaped real economic and social benefits from special privileges granted to married heterosexuals who have children.

If we allow the discussion of these types of battles to become merely about individuals like the Farbers, we will lose. It took little time for some media sources to present the Farbers as a hapless religious couple being trashed by "radical queer activists."

Fighting for Social Justice is not about seeking revenge on mean-spirited people like the Farbers. Rather, our battles are about reforming the government and laws. Texas and the federal government tacitly accepts, if not actually promotes, a notion of queer people as less deserving of respect basic civil protection. The Farbers are an example of that problem, but not the cause.

What's the Matter With Texas -- Part Two

Texas offers few incentives to return. Don’t get me wrong, there are good people there. Some close friends live in Texas. Indeed, I might have no choice but to return next year if I cannot secure another academic post.

The second news story that captured my attention last week, however, reminded me that Texas can be both vindictive and exploitative. You get two for the price of one.

The Associated Press posted a story last week about a new push by the Dallas Convention and Visitors Bureau to attract gay visitors. “Wow,” I thought, “Dallas sure has some chutzpah given the state’s unforgivable treatment of queers.” Don't worry, though, the creators of the campaign are clear that it will not actually bring about equality in Texas.

Last year, 76 percent of Texas voters approved an amendment that guaranteed heterosexuals’ special privileges to marry. Every corner of Texas jumped on the anti-gay bandwagon during that campaign. A month before the vote, the Ku Klux Klan rallied in favor of depriving queer folk of their rights in the allegedly “liberal” capital, Austin.

This past election day, Texan voters returned Rick Perry to the governor’s mansion for another four years. Perry had been vocally and vehemently anti-gay throughout his first term. He also stepped forward as the most influential supporter of the anti-gay amendment in 2005. When asked directly about the consequences that the amendment would have on real-life queer Texans, Perry responded, “Texans made a decision about marriage and if there's a state that has more lenient views than Texas, then maybe that's a better place for them to live.” Yep, in short, the Texas Governor told gay people to get out of the state.

Trust me, I personally took Perry’s statement to heart. You don’t have to tell me twice. I know when I am not wanted. That’s why I moved to Massachusetts, even if it is only for a year. Consider me a Perry Refugee. Let’s just hope that I am not repatriated.

So, you can imagine my surprise that the Dallas convention bureau would tell gay people that the city will “power up your pride like no other destination.” Really? No other destination? More than San Francisco? More than New York? More than Boston? More than Chicago? More than Santa Fe? Really?

Just what does Dallas have to infuse us queer folk with a new sense of empowerment? Well, I mean beyond its giant glass erection.



Apparently Dallas’ tourism board can cater to all the really best gay stereotypes. The queer section of the web-site promises “majestic architecture, hip fashion, culinary marvels and arts venues galore.” Ah, gee, no plugs for fabulous opportunities to style other people’s hair or arrange their flowers?

Texan-conservatives already voiced their disapproval of the Visitor’s Bureau. Cathie Adams, president of the right-wing Dallas-based Texas Eagle Forum, suggested that attracting queers to the city would scare the horses. "To promote same-sex activities that would be offensive to the majority of families is not profitable, economically or socially," she said. "If you are wanting families to move into the city of Dallas, are you going to show them such a promotion? I doubt it. Those families would go to Collin County."

How did the mastermind of the queer-focused travel campaign respond to such a critique? What marvelous insight did he have that would “power up” our queer pride in the face of Adams’ homophobia?

“It is unlikely that most people will ever view their targeted appeals,” he said, “unless they are members of the gay community.” No need to fret. Those good majority of homophobic Texan families won’t even notice the campaign. Doesn’t that make you feel good, queer folk? When did Dallas become that person who pretended to like us in adolescence, but really just mistreated us? “Oh, hey queers," Dallas tells us, “Don’t worry, we are so best friends! Totally, I mean it! Just, like, we are going to be ‘secret friends.’ We won’t tell anybody at school that we are friends. Also, if I run into you in public, I am gong to pretend like I don’t know you at all. It will be, like, a fun game that only the secret friends know that we are playing, because we are secret friends. [pause] Can I borrow ten bucks?”



Make no mistake, the director of the visitor’s bureau launched this campaign with nothing but dollar signs in his eyes. "It's not about being politically correct,” he said, “It's about being economically correct." He gloried in the fact that gay travelers spend an average of $100 more per day than hetero travelers. In other words, the Dallas Convention and Visitors Bureau is more than happy to give us whatever message we want to get our money. Fighting for our rights, though, or ensuring queers’ safety within the city or state just doesn’t pay. We are free to leave our cash on the counter, but not to be treated like full humans deserving of actual respect.

What leaves me even more frustrated is that at least one queer organization has fallen for this transparently self-serving pitch. The Washington-based Family Pride Coalition hosted their annual conference in Dallas within the past few months. Apparently they fell for a dazzling presentation by the visitor’s bureau. Yeah, that makes a great deal of sense. Need a place to focus on queer families? Let’s go to a state where three-quarters of the voters felt they should not exist at all. Yet, 250 queer folk (and presumably many with their families in tow) brought their cash to Dallas for this conference. That is the same as giving a school-yard bully a candy bar to show him that he is wrong for slugging you. This entry could have just as easily been titled, “What’s the Matter with Queer Rights Groups.”

Well over half of the U.S. states have passed hateful measures against queer folk. Yet, they rarely suffer any consequences for these actions. Indeed, we queer folk don’t even discuss the possibilities of economic boycotts or staged protests. Most of the major queer rights organizations are much too busy cultivating sympathy for Lance Bass’ recent hangnail.

In the meantime, Texas gets to have their pink Barbie cake and eat it too. Campaigns, like the Dallas effort, takes the language of queer rights and twists it to serve the status quo. The gay liberation movement demanded that we be treated as equals and recognized as equal citizens in our cities, states, and nations. Advertisers have decided that they can tell us that we are equal in jargon and make their sales pitch feel like we are striking a blow for sexual liberation by staying at the local Hilton. The state treats queers as a cross between Beelzebub and an ATM machine.

Many of us have limitations about how much we can move away from evil states like Texas. We, though, have total control over where we vacation. What would happen if every queer person decided that they will not give one extra dollar to any city or state that refused to guarantee queer equality? Campaigns that promise to “empower” us by giving us the chance to spend our money do nothing to advance our cause. Texas disfigures our real goals to make a buck while also keeping us in a subservient position to the majority.

What's the Matter with Texas -- Part One

Several news stories from Texas brought my gravitas back in full force this past week. Each one raised serious issues about the current battles for Social Justice not only in the Lone Star State, but the larger nation. This is the first of three entries about these news stories. Taken together, these stories confirm that I would really, really, really prefer not to return to Texas next Fall. That, though, might be inevitable. Beyond my personal circumstances, though, these stories also indicate the struggles that face those of us interested in Social Justice.

As I have mentioned previously, people often ask me if “Texas really is that bad.” I consider it worse than many people think possible for 2006. Yet, presuming that Texas is an anomalous “backward” or “regressive” state might not be accurate. I often wonder if Texas actually serves as a harbinger of what will come for the rest of the nation. The first of these three blog entries focuses on race the latter two will focus on queer issues.

Perhaps the most disturbing of these three stories involved several students at Texas A&M University (one of the state’s two flagship universities) making a video entitled “The Adventures of Jaraboem.” A white, male student portrayed the title character in shoe-polish blackface. Within the video, the white student in blackface pretended to be enslaved, prayed to an idol asking to be made a white man, ate a banana, and then cowered as his “white master “ whipped and raped him. The students considered this film “comedy.” Youtube distributed the video until Texas A&M asked it to be removed.

When such events occur, it’s tempting for us to dismiss them as a “few bad apples.” I am here to tell you the U.S. has a whole orchard of these folk. Others simply want to toss up their hands in frustration, saying “That’s just the way some people are in Texas.” I am not convinced, however, by these suggestions. Indeed, this is not even the first time that CoG has addressed issues of blackface minstrelsy. A year ago, I had fears about the return of blackface minstrelsy.







Texas A&M’s video is just the most graphic demonstration of the anxieties or hatred that exists within many white, heterosexual men in this country. All across the nation, college students have been sponsoring “ghetto parties” for the past several years. These events involve students dressing in a combination of blackface or stereotypical costumes with “bling” and “pimp” styles. Both the University of Texas (the allegedly “liberal” alternative to A&M) and Texas A&M witnessed such events. Before you cluck-cluck at Texas, though, similar events appeared at state and private universities in the Midwest and the east coast.

The most recent “ghetto party” occurred on October 28 at Johns Hopkins University. In that case, Sigma Chi Fraternity called the event “Halloween in the Hood” and asked its mostly white invitees to dress as ““macks,” or “hustlas,” or “hoochies.” During the party, the fraternity also hanged the figure of a black man in effigy.

Given the frequency and geographic diversity of these events, we can't just shrug them off as isolated incidents. Blackface performances first appeared in the U.S. shortly before the Civil War. White slaveholders, contrary to popular expectation, did not originate this form of entertainment. Rather, urban northerners both developed and attended blackface minstrelsy in the nineteenth-century. The white, working-class became the most devout audience members of this form of entertainment.

At best, we might conclude that these students are simply ignorant of the long and complicated history of blackface. This lack of awareness of stereotypes as stereotypes, however, suggests that racism persists without check. A more sinister interpretation of these events could suggest that the students intentionally mock people of color to enforce their own sense of racial and class superiority.

In either instance, the students had an underlying presumption about African Americans as ragged and marginal figures on the far-outside of U.S. society. These students drew from the most prolific images of African Americans that circulate in the larger media. The blackface video and the “ghetto parties” shows the continued intersection of race and economic class in the United States.

Obviously, I can’t say that I have specific solutions that will solve racism. If I did, you wouldn’t find me writing a blog. Still, I would suggest that many of us genuinely interested in Social Justice might be asleep or not entirely aware of the depth of hatred and racial animosity that still exists in this country. The fact that these events emerged on university campuses should trouble us all the more. We often imagine universities to be sites far removed from such unthinking racism. Yet, this particular generation of students seems more inclined to these performances than we have seen in decades.

Explanations from students who organize the ghetto parties or make the videos often are not heard. Yet, I think we need to understand what motivates this type of thinking. They might claim that they intended only “to be funny,” but why did they think this particular brand of racial mocking would be so hilarious? What did they imagine to be at stake here? How did they come to the point where they could so callously dehumanize another group of people? We have to understand their thinking if we are ever going to address racism effectively.

Answering these questions requires all of us to once again interrogate the real ways that race and economic class informs our daily lives. At times uncomfortable, we will need to break the fear of discussing the meanings ascribed to racial difference.

We can also eschew well-meaning efforts to claim that racial difference is “meaningless” or “irrelevant” in the modern nation. Ghetto parties and other blackface entertainments highlight that race still has tremendous currency in the United States. Racist stereotypes from a century ago prove durable as white college-students currently reformulate them for their own amusement. Wishing for a color-blind society only makes us blind to racism, not racial difference.

A Break from the Gravitas -- Sort Of...

We are all a little dizzy with some good electoral news for a change. My gravitas might be a bit lighter. Okay, that’s a lie. My gravitas never gets lighter. We will have plenty of time, though, to talk about the problems in the nation as imagined by GayProf. As lefty folk, let's all take a moment and savior our victories.

I don’t have much new to add that hasn’t been said by other blog folk. Let’s recount (no pun intended) the good events of yesterday and today, shall we?

Rick “Frothy Mixture of Cum, Lube and Fecal Matter” Santorum lost his Senate seat. A man driven by hate, he often became the poster boy for young Republicans. Now, though, he will have more time to fulfill his goal of fathering his own army. How man kids does this guy have? Jesus, Rick, wear a condom, would you?

Nancy “San-Francisco Liberal” Pelosi will become the first woman Speaker of the House in the history of the United States. Of course, only around 70 women currently serve in the House out of 435 (representing about 16 percent of the total). This is shocking given that women are roughly 50 percent of the total U.S. population. Ooops – See? I do have trouble keeping the gravitas in check.



Donald “Talking-Tree-From-Wizard-of-Oz” Rumsfeld loses his job. Hopefully Rumsfeld will see this as a chance to spend some quality time whittling.

Arizona “The State that Gave Us Crazy-Ass Barry Goldwater” voted against a proposed ban on gay marriage. It infuriates me that the rights of a minority would be left to the decisions and whims of the majority. Still, the good people of the Grand Canyon State reject bigotry and fear. Go on with your bad self, Arizona. Have a Cosmo on me.

Deval “I Once Worked for Bill Clinton” Patrick became the first African-American governor of Massachusetts. Much to my chagrin, though, Massachusetts voters mysteriously rejected a proposal that would have allowed grocery stores to sell liquor. Damn you, Massachusetts.

Robert “President of that Bonfire University” Gates will likely become the next Secretary of Defense. While his politics often leave me cold and his tenure at the CIA made me nervous, I will say that Gates always struck me as a reasonable guy, at least as a university president. He is not rash nor filled with ego. Perhaps he can bring a touch of sanity to an impossible situation in Iraq.



Electronic “I Eat Ballots” Voting Machines showed themselves to be so unreliable that even Republicans complained about them. We might actually get momentum to return to actual paper records. Canada does it, why can't we?

New “Land of Enchantment” Mexico retained its Democratic Governor and Senator. Sadly, the House District One race is still too close to call. **Sigh** Don’t disappoint me, New Mexico. Think of our way of life!

Dennis “The Hutt” Hastert will no longer have a prominent position in the House. After his reign as Speaker, I think we should start imposing weight-limits on political figures. If you weigh more than a baby Steinway, no leadership role for you. How could he get any work done when at least 60 percent of his day must have gone to eating?



The Democratic “We are the Actual Compassionate Conservatives” Party now controls the House and might control the Senate. Under the U.S. Constitution (which, I recognize, we rarely bother to look at any more), the Congress should be the most powerful arm of the government. If the Democrats in Congress really wanted to do so, they could actually govern the nation. I am not saying that we will see an Andrew-Johnson era of Congressional power flexing, but it would be nice.

Georgie “The Most Hated President in History” Bush got a pimp-slap from the American People. We did it with our ring-hand, too. When Bushie claimed to be a “uniter,” who knew that his tactics would involve getting a combination of left and right forces together in their mutual contempt for him?

Karl “Why Aren’t I in Jail?” Rove will no longer be given the title of political genius. Indeed, his usual tactics of using hate, especially of queer folk, failed horribly to deliver the GOP a win.

South “Do People Actually Live in This State?” Dakota rejected a sleazy attempt to restrict a woman’s right to choose. They also saw through right-wing attempts to highjack and manipulate the left’s language about women’s self-determination and access to healthcare.

All of this makes GayProf a bit more content. Well, at least until I am declared Queer Guardian of the Nation.

Apropos of Nothing

This weekend, I welcomed Chad from Drowned in Ink to the Greater Boston Area. He is a nice guy who can give me a run for random pop-culture references in everyday conversations. Because I love my adopted city, putting the best face on Boston is always a priority for me with visitors.

Speaking of priorities, why is Boston having such a hard time with the upgrades to the T? The transition from tokens to paper cards (which strikes me as an environmental disaster given the number of discarded paper tickets that I have seen flying around the city already) has to be one of slowest and most poorly executed public projects I have seen in years.

Speaking of malfunctioning trains, Amtrak seems just as slow and unpredictable as ever. Don’t Americans feel shame when they meet European or Japanese tourists? They probably get off their planes and expect to find the most powerful nation in the world with super 190 m.p.h. bullet trains and elaborate public transportation systems. You know, like the stuff they have in their own countries. Instead they find a crumbling Amtrak huffing and puffing at 80 m.p.h trying to get out of the way of a CP freight train on its ass. What do we say to these tourists? “Gee, We could have had a functioning train system, but we decided to put all of our money into highways instead. Of course, now the highways have become hopelessly overcrowded. We Americans, though, like to spend two hours to travel ten miles on I-5.”

Speaking of crumbling infrastructure, after having just told Chad about how reliable the T’s Red Line usually is, we were forced to exit and take a bus to downtown that added an extra half-hour to our journey. The T authority claimed that they were repairing track and building a station, but, whatever.

Speaking of downtown, I still get consistently lost on Boston streets. At some point, I should really work on getting a map when visitors are in town.

Speaking of showing visitors around, many of my suggestions for Chad seemed oddly geared to death. There’s nothing like visiting cemeteries to think, “Hey, my host borders on the peculiarly macabre.”

Speaking of cemeteries, I find it impossible not to try to scare, or at least startle, people while walking amongst the graves. Yes, I am ten.

Speaking of the dead, Mt. Auburn cemetery really is pretty, especially for a town of the decomposing. Alas, we couldn’t locate Mary Baker Eddy’s grave. Little did I know, either, that Isabella Stewart Gardner resided in this cemetery.

Speaking of Isabella Stewart Gardner, that woman had too much money. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that she left behind her nifty little museum for the people of Boston. Still, how much cash did that woman have?

Speaking of museums, Chad’s visit finally got me to the Fogg Museum at Harvard. While at the Fogg we saw a painting of John the Baptist. How did we know it was John the Baptist? Oh, that would be the severed head with the blood pouring onto the floor. Christianity has such cheery iconography.

Speaking of art, I am a total adolescent when it comes to viewing paintings or statuary. Many of the paintings were total masterpieces. If they involved a naked man, however, I instantly focused in on the dangling bits.

Speaking of dangling bits, why are men buying the Wonderjock^©? Well, okay, I understand the desire for things to look bigger. The Wonderjock’s claim of having a “ball/extension support technology” looks overly optimistic. The Wonderjock also promises to "lift and separate," which suggests that they don't know men's bodies at all. Is it me, or does that sound really, really uncomfortable?



Speaking of being uncomfortable, as the temperatures steadily drop in Boston I am starting to think my time in Texas really has left me unprepared for chilly winters after all. Don’t get me wrong, I am much happier to be spending winter in Boston than the dreaded Texas. Still, it’s darn cold out there. At least liquor keeps me warm.

Speaking of drinking, if I keep up drinking at this rate, am I going to end up looking like Colonel Tigh?



Speaking of Battlestar Galactica, how happy am I that Jamie Bamber finally ditched the fat prosthetics and showed off his amazing body again?



Speaking of my obsessions, Chad merely suggesting that he was considering getting a Ph.D. lead me to strongly advocate for such a pursuit. I think completing a dissertation results in the same mindset as joining a cult. We all seem to go out and evangelize others to do the same as we did, despite our own suffering in the process.

Speaking of creepy cult behavior, I wonder if Chad realized that visiting me would result in learning an ungodly amount about Wonder Woman.

Speaking of visiting me, when are the rest of you folk coming to Boston?

One GayProf, One Vote

Because I am only in Massachusetts for the year, I stay a voter in Texas. It took me some time and a couple of phone calls to figure that out, too. Or maybe I just would have preferred to be a Massachusetts voter. In the end, though, I am still technically a resident of Texas. Yuck! After filling out what seemed like an unusually complicated set of web and paper forms, Texas finally allowed me to send off my absentee ballot this morning.

I am astounded by the number of people around me who have declared that they are “sitting out this election.” How do you sit out an election? Did your voting finger get tendinitis? Are you drunk with giddiness because you voted for the winning contestant from American Idol? After that, other elections, like for the leadership of the nation, just seem too shallow?

Of course, the media doesn’t help matters. Over the past week I have seen too many news stories that told Americans that voting would be useless. Either they said the two political parties are interchangeable, the elections were already decided by polling, or that voting machines would simply discard their votes anyway.

CNN came up with one of the more bizarre voting conspiracies that I have seen to date. They showed that a Venezuela corporation manufactured a few voting machines. Of course, the next logical jump is to assume that Hugo Chávez will be deciding the composition of the U.S. Senate. Yeah, that's how the historical relationship between the U.S. and Latin America has worked. The U.S. is just a puppet of leftist Latin American dictators.

Trust me, I can understand how people get turned off of voting. Voting in Texas elections depresses me. For over a century and a half, Texas has worked to keep people like me from expressing my voice in elections. Today, voting Left in Texas is a lot like running around the Hindenburg with a seltzer bottle. No matter how hard you try to put out the fire, the Nazis still controlled both burning piles of wreckage. Oh, the humanity!



Disappointment can be found even deeper. The Democratic Party has become so useless that many of the local Texas elections don’t even have a Democratic candidate. I mean, they couldn’t find anybody who wanted to run as a Democrat for the state legislature from my district? Anybody? Somebody's Aunt Sally? Anybody?

The Democrats should be fielding candidates in every single election. Maybe the party does think it's an uphill battle. I don’t care. On principle, they should put out a candidate. It doesn’t matter to me if the Democratic candidate is a twenty-six year-old-stripper. Heck, there are many reasons why I would trust a twenty-six-year-old stripper over 95 percent of Republicans, and 99 percent of Texas Republicans.

Since I have arrived in Boston, here is the question I get asked most often: “Is Texas really as scary and hateful as it seems?” The question presumes the answer. What can I say? “No, man, Texas is just fine. When Governor Rick Perry told all gay people to leave the state, it was just his way of encouraging tourism for the other forty-nine states. He wants to spread our queer Texas dollars around a bit. Why be greedy?”

To be honest, I also don’t really care about the future of Texas. I hope not to return, if I can help it. In the last major Texas election, 76 percent of Texan voters favored a constitutional ban on gay marriage. Though good people live in Texas, for the most part, Texan voters are riddled with hate and malice for people like me.

I think we should treat Texas like an Etch-a-Sketch^©. Let’s put the whole state over our head and shake it until it’s clear again. Start over from scratch, is what I say. Either that or we need to start learning from the deceptive practices of the Christian Evangelicals to fight back a bit.



Some states have warped the notion of “informed consent” for women trying to obtain her legal right to an abortion. In these instances, women have to sit through a lecture about the alleged consequences of having an abortion. Often times, these present unconfirmed or disputed information about abortions as “facts.” We can flip the tables and start applying “informed consent” laws when people register to vote.

A voter who registers as a Republican would immediately be referred to a voting “counselor.” The voting counselor would ask some basic questions:

Counselor:

I see you marked “Republican.” Is your annual income over $200,000 per year?

Are you white?

Are you male?

Are you hetero?

If the answer to all these questions is "yes" and you are white, straight, and male, off you go. Good luck.

If not, the Counselor responds with a predetermined set of warnings:

“I am obligated by law to inform you that voting Republican will adversely affect your standard of living. Under Republican administrations, real wages have either stayed static or actually decreased while inflation has risen.

Those who want a small federal government should know that Republican administrations since Ronald Reagan have actually increased the scope and size of the U.S. federal government by many fold.

Voting Republican will decrease your child’s chances for an adequate education.

Voting Republican might mean the end of certain civil and/or human rights in the U.S.

Women who are pregnant, or thinking of getting pregnant, should not vote Republican.

Voting Republican has been linked to signs of depression and, in extreme cases, psychopathic behavior.

Republicans want to eliminate people who desire same-sex sex. If you currently, or have in the past, had sex with somebody of your same sex, you should not vote Republican.

Side effects of voting Republican can include poverty, anxiety or nervousness, abnormal sweating (particularly if your last name is Nixon), change in appetite, constipation, diarrhea, headache, nausea, sedation, seizure, skin rash, homlessness, stomach cramps, trouble sleeping, and dry mouth.

Voting Republican does not protect against STD’s. In some cases, it might increase your chances of contracting a STD by reducing your access to condoms.

Voting Republican is habit forming. You can become physically and psychologically dependent on the party and lose the ability for independent thought.

If you experience any of the above serious side effects, stop voting Republican immediately and seek emergency medical attention or contact your doctor immediately.

After they hear all of that and sign a release, they can register as a Republican. I am tired of poor folk voting against their own economic interest just because they hate gays, or people of Islamic faith, or because they think George Bush watches NASCAR.

So, yeah, I know that voting can seem like a losing battle sometimes. All the same, I ain’t giving up what I think of as my basic right and obligation. Too many people fought and died for my right to punch a hole, mark an x, blow out a candle, or whatever to register my voice in the government. Even if my ballot ends up in the shredder, at least somebody will know my disapproval of the status quo.

Love Inaction

On Saturday night, I attended a Halloween party hosted by the glamorous Joe and Whit. Without doubt, Whit won the prize for best costume in my book. Who can cobble together an authentic eighteenth-century nobleman’s costume from things mostly found in his closet? That’s not just about planning and being clever – That’s an entire lifestyle choice. That’s deep, Holmes, and Whit deserves some props.

Despite my costume debating, I went with my old reliable. By “reliable,” I really mean, “the shit that I already own.” For me that’s the U.S. Sailor work uniform. Once you have the dixie-cup hat, you are pretty much good to go. Like so many things in life, it all comes down to what you want to say with your hat.





While at the party, one of my conversations turned to the current state of queer youth. The presumption in the nation today is that young queer folk have an easier time and are coming “out” much earlier in life. Without doubt, some of this is true. Clearly there is a different national perception and visibility of queer people than when I started coming out a short fifteen years ago. We have also already discussed the queer generation gap here at CoG.

Still, I wonder sometimes if we are becoming blinded to the struggles that continue to exist for most young people coming to terms with their sexuality. My party conversationialist suggested that those who are in strictly religious households are not being permitted to express their sexualities. They are still as likely as anybody from forty years ago to be trapped in the closet by social pressure and fear. I think that he was probably right. Given that Evanglical Christians are rapidly becoming a major population in states like Texas, it’s hard to believe that everything is sunshine and roses for queer young people.

While most of the media and much of queer activism has focused on the issue of marriage, another set of sinister stories have sporadically made it to the surface. Over the weekend, a group known as Love in Action International (LIAI) settled its lawsuit against the state of Tennessee. Last year, LIAI briefly caught the national media’s attention when a sixteen-year old blogger wrote of his despair over being sent to the LIAI camp. His parents sent him, against his will, in an effort to rid him of his homosexual desires. Sometimes I worry that we queer folk have become distracted by the marriage issue to the point that we miss other serious crap like this story.

Tennessee investigated the LIAI camp after the blogging story broke. Allegations arose that the LIAI employees kept young patients from doctor prescribed medication. In the end, the state of Tennessee also stated that the camp needed a state issued mental health license. Probably because the LIAI’s methods would never withstand the scrutiny of trained psychologists and psychiatrists, LIAI balked at the proposition. Instead, they filed a lawsuit against Tennessee, claiming that they had been discriminated against because of their religious affiliation. Tennessee backed down and decided not to require the camp to have an actual medical license.

Here’s the deal with my view of the “ex-gay folk.” Hey, if you’re an adult and you want to subject yourself to that type of nuttiness, I say go forth. If you think listening to some minister tell you over and over again that you are going to hell is more pleasurable than wrapping your tongue around another man’s wang, that’s your decision. That sounds sad and pitiful to me, but I really don’t care. It’s your life. Sexual liberation means that you should have the right to make that choice.

The “ex-gays,” however, have no authority to speak for other queer folk nor have they ever demonstrated any tangible ability to “change” their innate sexual interest. As far as the debate about queer civil rights, they have nothing to contribute and we need not consider them worth discussing. They are a non-entity, kind of like the EPA under the Bush adminstration.

Where my major concern comes in, though, is the attempts to control and damage queer youth. A screwed-up adult checking himself or herself into one these “camps” make his or her own choices. A teenager, however, sent to one of these camps has no choice and no legal recourse. He or she is at the mercy of the parents.

Won’t somebody think of the children? I mean, somebody other than Mark Foley.

Young queer people have faced different levels of medical experimentation in the quest for a "cure" through the twentieth century. It’s not that hard to find historical examples. Even as I looked through sixties-era newspapers for the previous post on Jenkins, I found such a case from right here in Boston. In December 1964, The New York Times reported on an experimental psychological program conducted on “delinquents” in good ol’ Cambridge, Massachusetts. One aspect of this program involved Dr. Ralph Schwitzgebel (if that was his real name) applying “behavior modification” treatements to queer men.

Schwitzgebel spoke of a particular 13-month program conducted on a young gay man. During this period, Schwitzgebel required the man to take an ipecac syrup concoction “whenever homosexual feelings were particularly frequent.” In other words, the good doctor literally made the man vomit every time he thought of hot man-on-man action. Schwitzgebel claimed success, pointing to the youth’s [heterosexual] marriage. My guess is the man was willing to do anything to stop vomiting. Hell, I have only had a cold for two weeks, but would gladly marry somebody if it meant I could get rid of it.

Of course, Schwitzgebel also acknowledged, “Not all of his homosexual impulses have been eliminated, but the youth, in his words, considers them ‘nostalgic reminders of the past.’” Um – Okay. In other words, despite vomiting constantly and having sex with women, this particular youth still wistfully remembered the days of yore when he yearned for the man flesh. I also can't help but wonder if it actually just made the man have a new Roman Shower fetish.

Keep in mind that Schwitzgebel’s study was one of the most mild and least invasive of the medical experiments performed on queer folk. We like to think of this 1964 study as “ancient history.” With all the queer visibility and alleged ease of high school students coming out today, we are told such events are part of an archaic past.

Yet, it’s not hard to imagine that Love in Action International using almost identical practices, or worse, on young people today. The vague references to “ex-gay” treatments all seem to revolve around the same type of coded language of “behavior modification.”

Before we go congratulating this nation about how easy young queer folk have it, I think we should make sure that all teenagers are being allowed to make their own choices about their sexuality. If we are committed to ideas of sexual liberation, then we might need to start digging into the murky and unpopular realm of parental authority. As long as parents are permitted almost total authority over teenagers’ lives, they will always be at risk of being subjugated to dangerous and damaging programs like Love in Action International. For sexual freedom to take hold, we might need to demand that the current laws be changed concerning teenagers and sex. They should not be subjected to the arebitary beliefs of their parents when it comes to decisions about their own sexuality.

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What to Wear, What to Wear -- Parte Dos

Now is the time of year when young queers’ hearts and minds are consumed by that special holiday that unites us all. Yes – the fourth week of October has the distinction of being National Radon Detection Week. It’s the silent killer, people. We all mark these special few days by installing devices to detect invisible, tasteless, carcinogenic gases in our homes.

Once that’s over, we begin to think about Halloween. Of course, the end of the month also signals yet another four weeks in which my Texas house did not sell. How much longer will I be saddled with a link to Liar Ex (Who Told Many Lies)? No horror story could be more scary. Halloween offers a nice distraction from that grim reality.

Like last year, though, I have the dilemma of trying to figure out what to wear as a costume. Like last year, my aspirations for particular costumes never quite turn out right.

Here’s more of what I aim for when I build a costume and the disappointing results:

***
What I Aim For: President Laura Roslin



Laura Roslin makes the tough moral choices, inspires confidence, and can really rock a power suit. Once a humble school teacher, Roslin shows what keen intelligence and dedication can do for the leadership of a people.

What I End Up With: First Lady Laura Bush


Laura Bush makes almost no moral choices, inspires nothing, and really needs a new tailor. If anybody ever questioned whether the position of First Lady was useless, Laura proved that it was. Once a humble school teacher, Laura Bush shows how making really bad marriage choices can ruin your life. Tell me about it, Laura.

***

What I Aim For: Zorro



Don Diego de la Vega had a powerful sense of justice and remarkable fighting skills. During the day, he had an unassuming persona as the son of a wealthy nobleman. At night, Diego went to his secret cave, dressed all in black and a long flowing cape, and fought to save the weak. Though he had many weapons, like pistols and a whip, he favored the rapier and fought with elegance. Plus, Guy Williams' could really fill-out his trousers. Get my meaning? Nudge-nudge. His costume really bulged with his manly attributes, if you know what I mean. Nudge-nudge. He had a big penis. Not subtle?

What I End Up With: Batman



Batman is just a cheap knock-off of Zorro. Don’t believe me? During the day, Bruce Wayne is unassuming son of a wealthy business man. At night, Burce goes to his secret cave, dresses all in black and a long flowing cape, and fights to save the weak. Need more proof? Bob Kane frequently depicted young Bruce Wane watching the film The Mark of Zorro the night of his parents’ murder.

Regardless, Batman is so over exposed at this point. Batman also always seems to get underfoot as Wonder Woman tries to do important heroic type stuff.

Yeah, don’t tell my nephew, though, who totally adores Batman at the moment.


What I Aim For: Hawk from Spenser: For Hire



When I was a wee queer lad, I thought Hawk to be one of the coolest figures on television. As an adult, he now seems like a bizarre pastiche of racist stereotypes. Still, he was one sexy mother-fucker. What? The Center of Gravitas ain't a site for kids.

Hawk exuded strength and dominated every scene. Never speaking that often, he still intimidated everybody around. Plus, he really knew how to dress!

What I End Up With: Captain Sisko



The least likeable Star Trek show, Deep Space Nine depended on character development rather than, you know, actual adventure to drive the series. Sisko didn’t help matters. Often indecisive, directionless, and stodgy, Sisko lacked cool. To make matters worse, his whiny son made Wesley Crusher seem down-right pleasant.

***

What I Aim For: Lisa Simpson



Precocious Lisa serves as the moral center of nation’s favorite cartoon family. Having converted to Buddhism somewhere in the show’s twenty-ninth season, Lisa remains at peace in a world of chaos. She values learning and remains calm in desperate circumstances.

What I End Up: Meg Griffin



Nobody likes Meg – not even her parents. Sales clerks have been known to immolate themselves rather than view Meg in a new pair of jeans. Few people even know the purpose of her character.

***

What I Aim For: Macbeth



Sure Macbeth had some bloodthirsty tendencies and a lust for power. He might also have murdered the rightful king, Duncan, thus overturning the natural order of things to the point that horses started eating each other. I call Macbeth a self-starter, myself. Clearly, he is one of the sexiest of all of Shakespeare’s tragic historical characters.

What I End Up With: Hamlet



Did Shakespeare have a more whiny character? Ninety percent of this play is all about Hamlet debating. He debates whether or not to kill the usurper king. He debates whether or not to get it on with Ophelia. He debates whether or not to commit suicide. He debates whether he should use jam or butter on his toast. Geez – We could be spared a dozen soliloquies if he just had the balls to stab, poison, or bludgeon himself to death in the first act. Hamlet is just a whiny brat at the end of the day.

***

What I Aim For: Betty la Fea (Mexico's Ugly Betty)



In Colombia's smart reinventing of the telenovela, Betty became the unlikely hero. The Mexican version perfected the story. Instead of the usual dramatics, histrionics, and sex of traditional telenovelas, Betty la Fea offered an unusual amount of humor (coupled with dramatics, histrionics, and sex). Though I never saw that many episodes, Betty la Fea seemed smart and sassy.

What I End Up With: Ugly Betty



While I still have enjoyed the U.S. version, and I think Selma Hayek can walk on water, elements of the new version still bother me. As I have mentioned before, the fact that Betty and her family are the only Latino figures in the show makes the title a bit more problematic. Likewise, the fey assistant caters to some horrific homophobic stereotypes (though he did redeem himself a bit when he shared a moment with Betty’s nephew). Maybe I am just predisposed to distrust U.S. remakes. Or perhaps my therapist was right -- Maybe I should really just relax sometimes. Eh.

***
What I Aim For: Jake Shears from Scissor Sisters



Though Del Marquis has my heart from the Scissor Sisters, one can’t deny Shears’ electric personality. He has a tight little body that he generously shows off as he prances about the stage in revealing costumes.

What I End Up With: Carol Channing



Carol also shows offer her tight little body as she prances about the stage. In this case, though, it’s just too much camp, even for GayProf.

***
What I Aim For: The Grim Reaper




Empowered with the icy touch of death, the Grim Reaper strikes fear in all who have seen him. He has a cold dark presence, no soul of his own, and thrives on decay.

What I End Up With: Donald Rumsfeld



Empowered with the icy touch of death, Donald Rumsfeld strikes fear in all who have seen him. He has a cold dark presence, no soul of his own, and thrives on decay – Huh – maybe that’s why I keep ending up with him when I aim for death personified.

Americans are Foolish

No, I am not talking about Americans' refusal to endorse and fund universal heath care. Nor am I talking about Americans' complete apathy when it comes to voting. I am talking about something really, really important. Why don’t Americans clue into just how great the Scissor Sisters are as a musical act?

Last night, Atari and I saw the Scissor Sisters perform at Boston’s Orpheum Theater. Atari, obviously, is a good amount of fun with whom to go and see such an event.

Having never been to the Orpheum myself, I liked it as a theater. I liked the fact that the Orpheum served liquor even more. Given that Atari is more than willing to be an ennabler codependent a drinking buddy, things worked out just fine. Who needs to listen to the opening band when red wine is around?

Right – Back to the Scissor Sisters. True, the Orpheum’s dreadful sound system made them almost unintelligible. Our seats were, shall we say, a bit distant. All the same, the band exuded coolness. Come on, Americans, hundreds of thousands of Europeans can’t be wrong about this band. The Scissor Sisters self-titled album ranked as the highest selling CD in Britain for 2004. Right now, the new album's first single, “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’,” floats around number one in the UK charts.

Yeah, we aren’t going to mention that David Hasselhoff is number four on the UK charts right now. Discussing that hurts my cause. I mean, we expect that lunacy from Germans. Brits, though? Nah, man, that’s just not right.

Scissor Sisters, though, deserve more consideration. Let’s take a look at some of their genius lyrics from a few of their songs:

If lies were cats, you would be a litter.

I don't need another tube of that dime store lipstick
Well I think I'm gonna buy me a brand new shade of man

If Jesus had the power than so do I
To rise up from the dead and take up to the sky

I feel so much better
When I read your dirty letters

So, why do the Scissor Sisters rate so low in the U.S. charts? For the most part, the Scissor Sisters don’t make the play lists of the mega-radio chains. Instead, the airwaves reverberate with the unending rotation of Justin Timberlake and Beyoncé.

Critics and a few snotty queer folk have also disdained the Scissor Sisters. They call them a novelty act or just plain silly. They see no point to their feather boas, high-waisted pants, and sequin suits.

With the second album, though, I think it’s hasty to dismiss the Scissor Sisters flat out. The audience clearly adored the band during last night’s performance. Composed mostly of gay boys and seemingly straight women, the audience took every song as if an individual anthem. They enthusiastically played along with the band. This included one zealous fan close to us who enacted each song through a stunning form of dancing pantomime.

Behind all the glam rock and cheery songs about death, the Scissor Sisters offer an appealing message. They call on their audience to reject expected gender standards or heteronormative ways of viewing the world. The over-the-top costumes suggest that violating gender norms can be playful, fun, and even revolutionary. Jake Shears’ falsetto singing alone connotes a vocal form of drag.

Three of the four men in the band are openly gay. At a time when the most visible gay men are Mark Foley and James McGreevey, the Scissor Sisters offer a refreshing counter point. The band has three gay men who are, well, happy being gay and having gay sex. In fact, they even sing about it! Their bouncy tunes remind us that we can escape the shackles of mediocrity and enjoy moments of fabulousness even in the most mundane of settings.

Their songs often focus on specifically queer notions, like taking your mother to gay dance clubs or dressing in drag. They talk of being united as queer folk, demanding space, sexual freedom, and dumping losers who don’t treat us right.

Most of the band’s videos make little narrative sense. Instead, they are usually visual splurges with dazzling costume changes and Shears in various states of undress. Scissor Sisters both figuratively, and sometimes literally, call on their fans to break free, have fun, and not take any shit for doing so.



Sure, we have heard from other queer performers before the Scissor Sisters. Indeed, they pay homage to the David Bowie and Queen era of glam rock. What makes them different, though, is that their sexualities are not as obscured or veiled. Unlike Bowie or Queen, who often played with sexuality with tongue-in-cheek gestures, the Scissor Sisters put it all out there.

Nor are they like Elton John, their current producer. Despite his long-known queer sexuality, John still insists on releasing songs with opposite-sex pronouns. John’s recent music speaks more about social complacency or commercialism than a liberating message for queer folk. His songs for the past twenty years have never called on queers to enjoy being queer in the same way as Scissor Sisters. Heck, even “All the Girls Love Alice,” one of John’s early ditties about a dead lesbian, seems more queer positive than anything he has released lately.



Scissor Sisters speaks to all of our desires to try on different personas and rebel. The satin cocktail dresses and half-naked Shears just make such rebellion look fun and even sexy. Who doesn’t want to toss on the platform boots and sparkly jacket to break out of our humdrum lives? Heck, if we can also make such dressing up about fighting sexual repression, all the better.

Out, Out Damn Spot

Within the past day or so the ubiquitous Joe. My. God. posed a series of scenarios to his readers. Each involved a male political figure who sought same-sex sex, but with differing levels of public hostility to the queer community. Joe asked if any or all of these different public figures should be “outed.” The wide range of responses and their levels of emotional intensity suggests that, as a group, we queer folk hardly have consensus. We saw suggestions ranging from “nothing about one’s personal life should be revealed without consent” on one side to “outing them is the only way to combat their hypocrisy" on the other side. Each camp felt certain in their position and some became a bit snippy. I am a tad concerned about how quickly we queers turn on each other when there we disagree.

That aside, what struck me is that this discussion brought to the forefront two fundamental issues that never actually found articulation. At the center of this debate is 1) the value of “outness” or how “outness” came about as a historical strategy for queers in the United States; and 2) the obligations or rights of an individual queer verses the larger community of queers. As Mr. Spock might ask, "Do the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one?"

Notions of “outness” as a political strategy are relatively new to the U.S. Only for the last thirty years or so have such ideas been circulating. Being out, early queer activists argued, took away the potential of being blackmailed for one’s sexuality. Moreover, if all queer folk came out, the sheer numbers and visibility would make it impossible for queers to lose their jobs over their sexuality.

Being out was not just about acknowledging to yourself an interest in same-sex sex. After all, men and women had been doing that for a long, long, long time. Rather, being out meant acknowledging your sexual interests and taking a firm political position for sexual freedom within our social context. One had to claim a public sexual identity.

Ironically (and it is technically ironic – not a fake Alanis Morissette irony), the strategy for being “out” developed as a means to combat the problems now faced by Congress men being threatened with exposure by queer activists. If one was up-front with their lives and interests, after all, then there would be no fear of losing your job or being booted out of office because you lied about it.

We don’t have to turn the clock back far to find instances when queer men and women’s exposure meant an end to their careers. Let’s take a look at 1964. In October 1964, a scandal erupted around the White House just a few weeks before the presidential election that pitted Lyndon Johnson against Barry Goldwater. Police arrested Johnson’s top aide, Walter Jenkins, for having sex in a YMCA men’s room. The press seized on the story and Jenkins became a household name for “homosexual,” at least for a few weeks (Out magazine, incidentally, ran a story on Jenkins in 1999).

As soon as the story broke, Jenkins checked himself into a psychiatric hospital, claiming exhaustion, and could not be reached for comment. He would later explain that he never had sex with men except on those “extremely rare occasions he must have been under the influence of alcohol.” We’ve come a short way, baby!

I decided to take a look at some of the news coverage that surrounded Jenkins in 1964. Originally I even intended to compare news coverage of Jenkins verses coverage of Foley, but that became too much work. What? I have a job other than blogging – allegedly.

In 1964, having been found in the middle of a sex act with another man ended Jenkins’ political career (Jenkins is on the right in the picture). At no point did anybody with real power suggest that Jenkins could continue in his job. Instead, they used Jenkins' case as evidence that gay men and women (who were suspect anyway because of their gender) should never work in the government because they lie. Even the most sympathetic coverage, including a statement from LadyBird, called for charity based on Jenkins’ “illness.” The most severe called it a "Communist Plot."

To be honest, Jenkins certainly would not win any queer-heart awards. A week before his arrest, The Federal Aviation Agency gave a 32-year-old man his job back. He had been dismissed after he admitted to having sex with other men at the age of 18. The FAA only reinstated the employee after he “proved” that he had a “normal sex life and that the homosexual incidents had been youthful indiscretions.”

Just days before his own arrest, Jenkins issued a memorandum directing Federal departments to tighten their screening policies to avoid hiring, horrors!, another man with such a shaky sexual history as the FAA agent. Jenkins had a lot of chutzpah to so hypocritically issue such a memo when he found his good times at the local YMCA glory hole.

As soon as the Jenkins arrest became public, LBJ quickly and publicly washed his hands of Jenkins, despite their 25-year personal friendship. Without any sense of disconnect, Johnson prefaced a speech on social justice with a brief comment on Jenkins. Though his actual speech called for “a utopian society in which poverty and prejudice would be abolished,” his opening remarks made it clear that queers would never make it to this promised land. “In a government of three million men,” he stated, “some of them make mistakes.” Working for the government and having same-sex sex was illegal in 1964, by the way. “The only thing to do,” the newspaper paraphrased Johnson, “was to take their jobs away from them and ‘ask for their resignation’ and order impartial investigations.”

The only support for Jenkins that didn’t call him a traitor or a nut job came from the American Mental Health Foundation. In a letter to the New York Times, the director of that foundation stated, “The private life and inclinations of a citizen, Government employee or not, does not necessarily have any bearing on his capacities, usefulness and sense of responsibility in his occupation. . . The fact that an individual is homosexual, as has been strongly implied in the case of Mr. Jenkins, does not per se make him more unstable and more a security risk than any heterosexual person.” Jenkins probably appreciated the sentiment. Well, he might have appreciated it if he wasn't strapped to a bed being pumped full of sedatives at George Washington University Hospital at the time.

The notion of being “out” as a political strategy existed only at the fringe of society in 1964. Yet, many had started to push back against the oppressive and unfair apparatuses that regulated sexual behavior. On May 29, 1965, nine men and three women picketed in front of the White House to protest “Government discrimination against homosexuals.” Unlike Jenkins, these queer folk wanted to fight and did so openly.

After these many decades, being out is still the best and easiest strategy that we can take as individuals to fight for sexual freedom. In the U.S., people are no longer imprisoned for their sexuality. There are many places in the world where one faces state-sponsored execution for same-sex sex. I have little sympathy, therefore, for Americans who refuse to come out of the closet in their daily lives. Is it scary? Yes. Is it often hard? Yes. Does it mean risking your employment? Sometimes, yes.

If we accept that being out is a necessary political strategy, the question then becomes does the community have the right to decide to out an individual? To me, saying “no” implies that the individual has no responsibility or obligation to the larger population of queers. It ignores the real ways that the individual benefits from the committed struggles of all the queer folk who came before him or her.

I would suggest, though, that outing can only be done uniformly for it to be effective. Outing should not be reserved just for punitive actions or for revenge against individuals who have opposed or oppressed us. Doing so only reenforces the notion that being out is dangerous and costly. It puts new braces on the structures of the closet by making being “out” the same as being “harassed.” We lose that battle by making those same enemies appear like victims and our sexualities seem like curses.

Outing, if it is to be effective, must be done for all. I expect the same level of outness from evil Republican Senators as I do from dreamy news anchors. No distinction should be made between the Republican staffer or the Democratic Congressman. To suggest that it is okay for one person to hide, but not another, is to validate the notion that our sexualities are something to be kept out of view unless useful politically. It endorses the ideas that hiding and lying are natural and necessary parts of being queer. Staying in the closet only serves the needs of the individual, but being out and visible will serve all who want the freedom to express their erotic side.

This need not devolve into a “witch-hunt.” I am not suggesting that we go on a campaign to dig up evidence on every closeted queer person out there. Frankly, there are more important fights than outing campaigns.

We should not, however, be expected to endorse or support their silence or their lies. Our sexualities are never merely private matters. They have important implications and consequences for how we are able to navigate our lives, earn a living, and find security. Until we demand total honesty from within the community, we will constantly be threatened with exposure.

Holy Crap!

This past weekend, I enjoyed meeting (or re-meeting some of) the Queer Boston Blogger group. They all seemed like nifty gents – and I particularly appreciate Chris and Steve for the ride.

For whatever reason, the news media opted not to cover this momentous event. Instead, they talked, talked, talked about earthquakes in Hawai’i or the unending bad news from Iraq. Clearly their priorities remain skewed.

One item that caught my attention in the news feed, though, was Emperor Palpatine’s Pope Benedict XVI’s naming of new saints. His list included some folk gaining media attention, including a Mexican Bishop who defended a greedy and corrupt Church during the Mexican Revolution -- now being remade as a Bishop who “tended to the wounded” during the conflict.



Being raised Catholic, I learned to call upon the saints. Indeed, I am still asking Guadalupe to assist me (and, boy, do I need the help!). Yet, I also came about as a child of Vatican II. You remember Vatican II – When the Church briefly tried to curb some of its excesses. Yeah, that didn’t last long.

In 1969 the Catholic Church actually announced a decision to reduce the number of saints by hundreds because they could not be “historically verified.” Among this list of de-canonized included the quite popular Saint Christopher and Saint Jude (Of course, the truly faithful might see the fact that the patron saint of lost causes losing his status as apropos). In my childhood, therefore, becoming a saint seemed near impossible (though I still had aspirations) and no new saints seemed on the horizon.

The Catholic Church sort of forgot about all of that, though. Since Pope John Paul II, the Church just can’t canonize people fast enough. Benedict XVI continues this trend, but just makes it feel even more evil somehow (being a pope who also happens to have been a member of the Hitler Youth and all). Being a saint these days seems as easy as getting supersized at McDonald’s. Shoot –- I volunteered once at a youth counseling office – Be sure to put me up for canonization after I am dead.

It does make me wonder, though, why should the pope be the one to make these decisions? Who died and elected him pope? Oh – Right – John Paul II and the evil-ass College of Cardinals. Well, fuck the Cardinals – There’s only 190 of them anyway.

I think it’s time that we queer folk start canonizing our own saints. Don’t we deserve figures who we can call on for supernatural intercession during moments of crisis? I think so.

Here are my suggestions for getting us started. Just like the Catholic Church, we need evidence of at least two miracles or martyrdom to qualify for queer sainthood. I am not, however, digging up their corpses to check for decay. That’s just nasty.

Saint Paul of Lynde, Patron Saint of Queenie Bitchdom



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Have you seen Bewitched? He could fly, disappear, and make things out of thin air!

He also made Hollywood Squares watchable, a miracle if ever there was one. I mean, it was tic-tac-toe, people.

Veneration: To call for Paul Lynde’s intercession, the faithful must make five bitchy, but insightful, comments to their guests within a one hour period.

For serious assistance, some of the truly devout have used their face as an ashtray – much as Lynde did with annoying fan-boys who bugged him on the dance floor.

***

Saint Judith Butler, Patron Saint of Gender



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Destabilized biological concepts of gender; defended queer studies to the point of martyrdom; many suggest that her dense theoretical writings are similar to speaking in tongues.

Veneration: Renounce biological determinism, but recognize that you are a product of cultural power and discourses beyond your control. Dress in drag in order to call attention to how gender is all a culturally-defined performance. Or just wear sensible shoes.

***


Saint Andy Warhol, Patron Saint of the Avant-Garde



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Prompted Americans to reconsider their cultural values -- for two seconds (MIRACLE!); Survived gun-shot wound to the chest inflicted by S.C.U.M. leader; managed to get laid looking like Andy Warhol.

Veneration: Fill your cabinets with Campbell’s Tomato Soup, but do so with irony. Paint all of your rooms in primary colors. Hang four photos of yourself in sequence.

***

Saint Liberace, Patron Saint of Closet Cases



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Miraculously, Judy Garland’s purse fell out of his mouth every time he spoke, but nobody seemed to know that he was gay. In a wind storm, his hair would never move an inch.

Veneration: Attach glitter and rhinestones to every item that you own – Seriously, devotees own a Bedazzler ^©. Wear many pastels. Buy a candelabra.

***
Saint Kelly of Charlie’s Angels, Patron Saint of Clothes and Hair



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: She single handedly could flip full grown men over her head without ever having a hair out of place or makeup smudged; she could run at a full sprint in six-inch heels; and she survived two separate gun-shot wounds – to her head!

Martyred by staying on Charlie’s Angels longer than Farah Fawcett, Kate Jackson, Cheryl Ladd, Shelley Hack, or Tayna Roberts

Veneration: Learn judo; drive a Mustang; shop consistently; wear very tight shoes.

***

Saint Tennessee of Williams, Patron Saint of Mixology



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Wrote award-winning plays about men tortured by their queer sexuality, yet he seemed to enjoy his own queer life and sexuality with abandon. Indeed, proper iconography of Saint Tennessee should always include a martini glass and cigarette – Optional iconography can show him attached ass-to-penis to Frank Merlo.

Martyrdom: Victim of gay-bashing in 1979.

Veneration: Wear lots of tweed and herringbone sport jackets. Grow a moustache. Drink to excess.

Prepare a small altar and provide a well mixed cocktail for the saint. Be aware, though, that Saint Tennessee will only respond to prayers if his cocktail has top-shelf liquor. This queer saint don’t drink no turpitine.

***

Saint Montgomery, Patron Saint of Male Beauty



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: His stunning male beauty could stop traffic (literally!). He was physically perfect and exuded beauty. Made being an army guy, priest, and southerner sexy!

Oh, and I guess he could act or something. Whatever.

Martyred by driving his car off a cliff while venerating Saint Tennessee. Losing his astounding beauty, he somehow kept on living – I was never really sure what the point of that was.

Veneration: Post pictures of him everywhere; Contemplate if the left side of his face or the right side of his face is more perfect; ignore rumors of his unfortunate moniker.

***

Saint GayProf, Queen of Heaven and Earth



Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Could deflect bullets with his bracelets; force a liar to tell the truth, make a hawk a dove. Oh, wait, that’s Wonder Woman. Damn! Let me try again.

Miracles Performed or Martyrdom: Can suck the joy out of any situation with his astounding gravitas; GayProf is the last person left on earth who still honors UFW boycotts.

Martyred by being banished to Texas, the land of the accursed.

Veneration: Just send cash, checks, or money orders. Make checks payable to GayProf’s Bahama Fund.