The Boys With The Thorns In Their Sides

"Rejected...incapable...anonymous...displaced....an outsider."

Those are some of the words Mike Wallace uses to summarize the place of gay people at the end of his 1967 CBS program, "The Homosexuals". This old footage has been making the blog rounds today. I just now watched/listened to it, and boy is it painful. At nearly 44 minutes, it's long, but it's worth playing all the way through.



The hopelessness of same-sex love - both in the sense that it is impossible to find, and in the sense that the world will never accord same-sex love any dignity and respect - is a theme repeated throughout this documentary, and as I was watching, it was impossible not to think of The Smiths' song, "The Boy With the Thorn in His Side".



And specifically, it was impossible not to think of these lyrics, which have always haunted me:

How can they see the love in our eyes
And still they don't believe us
And after all this time
They don't want to believe us
And if they don't believe us now
Will they ever believe us?
And when you want to live
How do you start
Where do you go
Who do you need to know?

For me, those lyrics have always been about the struggle to find one's gay identity, and the struggle to find gay love. Those struggles can feel like odysseys. So to watch that Mike Wallace program, a mainstream news program that's only about 40 years old, so casually and "objectively" play into every awful, defamatory stereotype there is about gay people was sobering, to say the least. But it was also a reminder that, purely by virtue of being born when and where I was, what seemed like odysseys to me - those journeys to find my gay self - were not nearly so epic as the journeys that all the queer boys who came before me had to endure. And for that I cannot help but be grateful, even though there's so far yet to go.

Kelly Rowland - When Love Takes Over

A brand new song and video from K-Row. I agree with Joe: she clearly made this song for the gays. It's a little throwback-y to late 1990s gay house, I'd say: a fun, cheerful little summertime track.

Keep Calm and Carry On

A little over a month ago my dad called to say that my grandmother would be going to the hospital in the morning to get the first round of chemotherapy for a cancerous spot in one of her lungs. My grandmother is not a smoker - she certainly has never smoked during my lifetime - so it's not that. She's just getting old, I guess. Her 80th birthday is in September.

At any rate, learning about my grandmother's condition was the third bad thing in a trinity of bad things that had been going on in my life at the time, the other two being Joey's death and breaking up with Brian. To make shitty news shittier still, it happened that the night my dad called to tell me about my grandmother was the night before an exam. So it wasn't until about two weeks later, when exams were done, that I was finally able to sit down with a semi-clear head and write my grandmother a proper letter to check in and see how she was doing.

It will help to know a little about her. Ginny is a New Englander of Irish/Welsh/Scottish derivation, if memory serves. She is and always has been a stoic, stiff-upper-lip, no-drama kind of gal. But she's warm and energetic, and frankly, Ginny has the most amazing skin I've seen on any woman her age who hasn't gone under the knife or the needle.

I have never felt like Ginny and I really understand each other, but I do know we are very fond of each other, and there is a lot of love between us. We find each other amusing, I think. So it took me a bit to find the right tack to take with this letter. I decided to just be honest. I referred in passing to the fact that I'd had a fairly awful few weeks but didn't give any specifics. (The letter was about Ginny, not me.) I told her a phrase that had gotten me through exams:


My constitutional law professor wore a t-shirt bearing that phrase on our last day of class. The phrase comes from a British propaganda campaign that ran during World War II, when the Germans were bombing London and other places nearby. Apparently, very few of these posters actually were posted, but the slogan has been kept alive.

So I told Ginny how I learned about it from my professor's t-shirt, and how it got me through an emotionally exhausting and extremely stressful few weeks: I wrote the slogan on whatever materials I was allowed to take in with me to each exam, and inevitably at some point in the middle of the test I'd look up and notice it on the desk in front of me, smile, and carry on. I told Ginny all she really could do, all anyone in her shoes could do, was just that - keep calm and carry on - and know that we were all thinking of her and sending her love. On Monday of this week, I got a note in the mail in reply:

John,
I'm sending a check because I feel you might need a little extra cash. That's it.
Now, I'm writing to thank you for one of the most beautiful letters I have ever received.
I am taking one day at a time. On Monday I start my 2nd phase of chemo (they say there might be 3 or 4).
You didn't say what was going on in your own life. I hope things have all worked out.
So thanks again.
"KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON"
Love
Grandma

I cried, of course. That exchange of letters is probably the most meaningful communication that's ever occurred between us - certainly the most meaninful exchange I can remember. But what really got me was the check inside. Ginny is not the type to send money "just because" - she's never been profligate with money. A birthdays and Christmases only kind of person, when it comes to gifts. And my birthday was still about three weeks away from the date of the note. While Ginny is always on top of birthdays, she never sends cards or gifts that early.

Then I remembered a conversation I'd had with my sister a few nights prior, in which she mentioned that Ginny had sent her husband and her a check as a "second half of their anniversary present," or something along those lines. The check I got confirmed what my sister and I suspected: Ginny's giving her money away because she thinks she's dying.

What to make of that? I do need the money, but I haven't been able to bring myself to deposit the check yet. It feels a bit wrong to run off to the bank with it right away; it feels like that would be reveling in Ginny's cancer. And we don't even know yet how the chemo is working. It all just feels premature and anticipatory in the worst way, and I know that Ginny will not speak of this check again.

It's tucked away in a desk drawer, waiting until the fresh sting of realizing the impetus behind it wears off a bit.

Image used under a limited Creative Commons license from flickr user cromacom

Róisin Works Hard For The Money

Róisin Murphy makes a quick quid on the street in London. How darling is she? Album version of the song and video below.

For Joey.

About six weeks ago, I lost one of my best friends, suddenly. Joey was my heart; he was my brother; he was my sister. He was my partner in crime. He was my confidant. We were co-pilots on what now seems like too few trips to the beach, and spent what now seem like too few hours generally being fabulous together.

Joey was like licorice: you either loved him, or you detested him. He was brash, he was rude, and he was often an asshole. He judged the hell out of people. But he never – and this is where I feel I have so much to learn from him – he never wrote people off. Joey’s friends, as I learned when we all pulled together to grieve as a family, are an eclectic group of freaks, geeks, fuck-ups, Type-As, creative types, destructive types – often all in the same person. In spite of being one of the most appearance-focused people I’ve ever met, Joey had an incredible, beautiful knack for seeing past all that external shit in other people and celebrating them for their substance. Luckier still for those of us who knew him, Joey also excelled at connecting friends and acquaintances of his who shared similar interests and likely never would have met without him. The interesting side-effect of all this was that we each got a different slice of Joey. Not a one of us can safely say we knew Joey completely. His personality was too broad, our individual personalities too narrow, for any one of us to get the whole picture.

Joey gave what for most people would be a superhuman amount of energy to the causes he loved. He’d walk into a woefully underprepared space where a fundraiser or arts event was to begin in a just few short hours, and he could single-handedly whip it and everyone nearby into showtime form. Joey cared deeply about animals, especially dogs (and most especially his Chihuahua, Tank). He also gave a great deal of time to LGBT causes and events, including Blue Ball and the Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. As someone who grew up in a small town in the Poconos, he appreciated the importance of an urban gay community not just for himself but for urban queers in general. No doubt Joey had even more amazing contributions to the community still ahead of him.

At a Memorial Day barbeque, I ended up chatting for a while with my friend Patrick, whom Joey had dated for a while. While we talked, I looked around the room and realized that Joey was the reason all of us were there, at the same party – not because we were expressly celebrating him in any way, but just because he was the only common thread among us all. A lot of us simply wouldn’t have met without him. Finally I understood that this was how we’ll keep Joey in our lives for the years and decades to come: by getting together, crazily cobbled-together urban family that we are, to celebrate holidays, birthdays, any-ol’-days. And I think that’s exactly how he’d want it.

I love you more’n my luggage, Joey. Muah.

Yes. We. Did.

Holy fucking shit. More later, but that's about all I can say right now.

Photo of Philadelphians celebrating Obama's victory last night from HuffPo

Lady Miss Kier And I Need To Have A Word With You.

Three words, actually.



Sorry for the lack of updates lately, people. Between school- and Phillies- and election-related mayhem, a bitch has been busy. But not too busy to bring you an important public service message: VOTE BABY VOTE!

LET'S DO THIS, PHILADELPHIA!

COME ON, PHILS, AND RIDE THE SOUL TRAIN TO VICTORY TONIGHT!!!





k thx 4 foto philly.com

Why Fundamentalism Is Dangerous

Fundamentalism in any form is terrifying and dangerous. Sure, it makes your life easier; you don't have to worry about what the answer is because it's always Jesus or God or Allah or Whoever. But it makes you stop thinking. And it gives people the false notion that a return to theocratic monarchy would magically heal the world. News flash, Tracys of the world: it'll be the death of us all.

And the menacing "I'LL PRAY FOR HIM"? Creepy.

"Jeepers Crumpets, Who Could That Be?"

I present to you the first minute or so of the Sarah Palin-themed porn, Nailin' Palin. And yes, it's safe for work.

Puck Falin Update

So since my last post on the matter, Governor Palin has come to Philly and gone. But there's two fun new things to share. First, of course, is the video of Governor Palin dropping the puck and clearly getting booed - before the deafening music over the PA system drowns out the crowd.



Second is an excellent t-shirt for sale on Etsy that a classmate tipped me off to:

God, what will we do when this woman disappears from the national stage?

Puck Falin

The other day on Philebrity, there was a post about how incredibly stupid it was for Ed Snider to arrange for Sarah Palin to throw out the first puck at the Flyers' opener tonight. In the comments, people were gettin' riled up, and reminded them not to do anything stupid or violent, as it would only make Palin into a sympathetic figure. "Still," I concluded, "puck Falin."

When I next checked in on Philebrity, my heart was moved to see this post and the following graphic.My fellow Philadelphians, I am honored to have inspired this. For God and Benny Franklin, I remain,

Faithfully yours,
sweet jawnny

I Also Want To Marry Donna Brazile

At the New Yorker breakfast this past weekend, Donna Brazile launched into an amazing ad-libbed speech about race and the election. It's passionate but not angry, stirring but not cheesy. Like Anderson Cooper, I would love to be her boo.

I Want To Marry Betty White

In this clip, she refers to Sarah Palin as a "crazy bitch" and says she'd love, really love to give Barack Obama more "experience."

All The Fat Stupid Racist People

The crowd in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, filing into a recent McCain-Palin rally.



Terrorist, Muslim, Communist. All these words are red herrings. What these people so clearly want to say is "nigger." I'd be able to deal with videos like this better if these people just called Obama a nigger because at least then they'd be honest. They believe what they need to believe so that they can go to bed at night thinking they're not racist. Fucking assholes. I'm embarrassed to share a skin color and a state with these slimebags. This is your base, Republicans? In 2008?

No Palin Press Conference Before Election Day

Unsurprising. But terrifying and unprecedented. Can you imagine what she'd be like if McCain kicked the bucket and she became president? She'd out-Dubya Dubya.

On a slightly less serious note, it's not just the McCain campaign's undermining of the role of the press in a democratic society that bothers me here. It's also the fact that were being deprived of the certain-to-be-hilarious answers Palin would give if she did ever hold a press conference. Yesterday, one lucky reporter on the trail actually got to ask her a question(!): did she think Obama was dishonest? And this is what the Governor, wordsmith of the Last Frontier, said:

I’m not saying he’s dishonest, but in terms of judgment, in terms of being able to answer a question forthrightly, it has two different parts to this. The judgment and the truthfulness and just being able to answer very candidly a simple question about when did you know him, how did you know him, is there still — has there been an association continued since ’02 or ’05, I know I’ve read a couple different stories. I think it’s relevant.

Umm, what? "In terms of being able to answer a question forthrightly," indeed. If we elect this inarticulate, incurious, flash-card-governing fool and her running mate to the two highest offices in the land, we are a sorry lot indeed. Or we're geniuses for getting ourselves at least four years of Tina Fey impressions on SNL.

The Joy of Sox

The Red Sox won the American League Division Series last night in dramatic fashion and advance to the AL Championship Series where they'll face AL East rival Tampa Bay. But that's boring. What's not boring is a Gchat conversation I had with my friend (and devoted fan of this blog) Maureen during Game 3 of this series, which was Sunday night. I know there are a few Red Sox fans who read this, but I think the ladies and gays out there who generally like sports, even if they're not Sox fans, will appreciate it too.

me: are you watching the sox?

Maureen: yeah dude rough game
end this shit

me: srsly

Maureen: Figgins
hahaha awful name

me: i wanted my boys to fucking homer in the bottom of the 9th but they weren't listening to me screaming at the TV
chone figgins. yeah. terrible name, all around.

Maureen: i know, i cant believe pedroia didnt listen

me: pedroia is my little snugglebear

Maureen: mine too

me: i would house him in a sec. [NOTE: The proper pronunciation of "house" in this context is "haüs".]

Maureen: me too

me: lolz this is why i love talking sports with gays or ladies

Maureen: totally
i was just telling struwe that i wish big ben would shave off his goatee
oh there he is!

me: ben who? roethlisberger?

Maureen: yeah
steelers just won

me: ugh
hate them
and yeah, big ben would be cute without the peach fuzz chin pubes

Maureen: yeah, because when you combine that with his white trash southern accent, its not a good combo

me: meanwhile, on the other end of the spectrum, kevin youkilis has the most ridiculous facial hair...to ever turn me on.
big ben doesn't have a good chin, really

Maureen: jahahhaha really

me: yeah dude
i'm all about the epic youk-goat

Maureen: i dont like youks, it grosses me out
lol
damn pedroia

me: i just screamed DAMN IT DUSTIN at the TV
why don't they ever hear me?

Maureen: papi looks like his beard was painted on tonight

me: lol
i just said that out loud to myself
this conversation is totally going on my blog, btw

Maureen: lol
610-[redacted]
thats my #, since this is going on your blog
There must be at least a handful of cute straight guys who read your blog

me: hahahaha
well, there's at least some cute gays who read it
and we're good drinking buddies

Maureen: yeah, good enough
men are men

me: spoken like a true maneater

Maureen: just call me nelly
sweeeeeeeeet

me: YES
see? never doubt the power of the youk-goat.

Maureen: he looks like a country sociopath

me: some of us have fantasies...

Maureen: lol

Photo from The Boston Globe

Harpy Hasselbeck Auditions For Fox News

The Huffington Post has great video of Elisabeth Hasselbeck of The View claiming that while any mention of John McCain's involvement in the Keating Five scandal is off-limits, mentions of Barack Obama's tenuous connections to former Weatherman William Ayers are fair game. Needless to say, the other women of The View tear her a new one. And that was without Joy Behar, who was out today. It's not surprising Hasselbeck was pushing GOP talking points today, as it's rumored she may be considering a move to Fox "News" Channel.

Lady In Cow Costume Arrested

In non-Sarah-Palin-related (but equally amusing) news, a woman in Ohio was recently arrested while wearing a cow costume. And yes, she was wearin' it for the mugshots!

According to WKRC in Cincinnati, Michelle Allen was arrested for disorderly conduct for allegedly chasing children, blocking traffic, even peeing on a neighbor's porch - all while wearing the cow suit. Police say she smelled of booze when they arrested her. There's a shocker!

Image from WKRC-TV

Palin B-I-N-G-O

Have fun during the debate tonight with Palin Bingo! This square is my personal favorite:

Get it? Her head is Air Space! lolzorz!!!1! I'm gonna hafta get good and drunk to watch this fiasco between her and Gaffebot5000 tonight. On the upside, they both have fake Twitter accounts now.