Linda Harvey, founder of the website and LGBT bullying primer Mission: America has a book out (that even Amazon won’t carry) which claims that gay people are closeted heterosexuals. Yes, her rather extreme form of GDS presents as the belief that gay people simply don’t exist. “The reality is, no one is a homosexual and everyone is a heterosexual.” I would like to state for the record that I personally am a card carrying, power bottoming, Pride marching, gym and body obsessing, one-time suicide contemplating, occasional body hair clipping, Beyoncé lip synching, overpriced underwear buying, obscure musical theatre referencing, Karen Walker quoting, interested in professional sports only if there’s a hot guy wearing tight pants watching, Barbra Streisand worshiping, man marrying, Oscar dress snarking, cock sucking homosexual queer queen [continue reading...]
Juan Pablo, “star” of ABC’s The Bachelor, was recently asked whether he thought a dating reality show featuring a gay or bisexual bachelor was a good idea.
“No…I respect [gay people]…” (You know there’s a but coming, right?) “…but…” (Uh-oh.) “…honestly, I don’t think it’s a good example for kids.” (As I pointed out in an earlier post, one of most common symptoms of GDS is the stripping of words from their meaning. JP respects gay people, he just doesn’t want children exposed to our filthy lives.) “Now there is fathers having kids and all that, and it is hard for me to understand…” (I feel that a lot of things are hard for JP [continue reading...]
Another person has been claimed by a powerful disease. Trestin Meacham has succumbed to Gay Derangement Syndrome. Sadly, he is not alone. Trestin is just one of many documented cases of people having been driven to absolute insanity by the idea that gay people exist. Indeed, he has lost his mind.
You may recall Trestin, if not by name then from the two week hunger strike he went on in the hopes of stopping gay Utah couples from marrying. When the Supreme Court ordered a stay on Utah’s same-sex marriages while the case was under appeal, he started eating again. Beginner. It is unclear at this time if he believes his efforts helped to bring about the stay. Frankly, I wasn’t all that impressed. What he called a hunger strike I used to call getting ready for Broadway Bares. [continue reading...]
There are a few things that have been going on over here in Jersey during the Christie years that have driven me absolutely insane. Actually, they’re not going on over here in Jersey, they’re going on in the media’s blind spot to my governor.
The other day I watched Governor Christie at his lengthy press conference. In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I didn’t make it through the entire thing. Nearly two hours of watching someone explain why they deserve to be first person on the Titanic’s dinghies is a long time. We got it. You didn’t know. You just heard. You were working out. (Not for nothin’, am I the only person who thought that remark was a particularly overworked piece of political theatre ~ wedged in there like a nun at [continue reading...]
Well, kind of. I mean it’s accurate, but incomplete. As the Christie administration recently discovered, there’s another adage that only the remarkably arrogant or unbearably stupid ever forget: Never put anything in writing! I’m guessing the people involved in the George Washington Bridge scandal ~ a bridge named, ironically, after a man who could not tell a lie ~ are both.
But I’m not one to judge. Listen, lying in the Posting Modern Age is hard. Harder, in fact, than it has ever been in the history of humankind. Harder than it’s been since man first stood erect. Harder than it’s been since man first got erect. And I think we can all agree that erections are the leading cause of lies.
Take a [continue reading...]
I agree with you on many of the points you made in your Washington Post piece about Aaron Schock and I applaud you for reaching out to anyone with actual information that could turn his history of pro-bigotry voting into a history of hypocrisy.
But can you do me a favor? Can you please not refer to coming out as “an intensely personal journey that involves stages of self-discovery and self-acceptance” as if it is an inherent part of being gay? It is not. The journey you refer to is about the shedding of shame. And we are not born with shame, we are taught it.
If we are going to talk about that journey, however, then we need to discuss its origins. It is rooted in anti-LGBT votes like the ones Rep. Aaron Shock has [continue reading...]
If it has, can someone please send me a copy so I can read it, study it, highlight it, earmark it, quote its über-inspirational passages and use my status updates to proselytize on Facebook? Please?
Because I am not good at this. Recovery requires a patience that I don’t naturally possess and I need a guide ~ or shaman ~ some form of spiritual presence to lead me to a hidden trough of patience and acceptance; balance and harmony. You see, my natural tendency is to scream and rage and pout. And left to my own devices I will begin each screaming, raging, pouting sentence with “But I WAAAAAAANT…..!!!!!!”
It’s not a good look on a 41 year old.
Three weeks after my surgery [continue reading...]
I’m being tortured by a piece of blue foam. I understand that it couldn’t possibly look any more innocuous ~ a blue foam wedge with four straps attached to it that must be kept between my legs at all times, including when I’m asleep ~ and when I was told that I would have to “wear” it constantly post-surgery, I nodded a nod of sweet, blind ignorance. I thoughtlessly smiled and blank-stared my understanding and acquiescence. I heard the words, but they had yet to be tethered to actual meanings; definitions. What I acknowledged and agreed to was just sound. Since then, those sounds have morphed into experience, and that once seemingly harmless blue foam wedge has become an instrument of torture powerful enough to reach down into the deepest layer of [continue reading...]
It is a big deal.
Rick & I are going into NYC today. To get married. For the fifth time. But today will be our first “marriage.”
It didn’t start out feeling special. This time around was solely to ensure that we are protected by a “we” bubble when I go into the hospital next week. The thought that someone might bar Rick from my room, ignore him or treat him as some kind of stranger should a decision need to be made on my behalf, was beyond hideous. I needed to know that all who come in contact with us know who he is and treat him accordingly.
This time around, the fifth time around, was not for love. It was for comfort; for protection.
No big deal. We’ve done [continue reading...]
Recently I was telling an acquaintance that Rick and I had gone in to NYC to get a marriage license and that next week we would be trekking back in to seal the deal. I explained that we’re doing it now because I want to be married before my surgery. Married. Not domestically partnered. Not civilly unioned. Not any of the lesser options we’ve been forced over the course of our relationship to accept because they were what was available to us at the time. Now that DOMA is dead, and since I’m having my surgery in New York (where marriage equality has been the law of the land for over two years and where, as far as I can tell, Western civilization has yet to crumble, at least not any more than it [continue reading...]