Saturday, June 27, 2009
I am sure it is my age, but there is a lot of the public expression of gay culture that no longer appeals to me. Some of it never did, but it at least did not bother me and I would even stand up for it. I am less inclined to do so now. It is a younger man's world in many ways. Fine with me. And so much of it plays with gender-bending in a way that puts me off.
But I wrote to friend today:
I will forever be grateful to have been bornat a time where I could learn, at a deep level,that my passion for other men is not a crimeor an illness, but a gift. And I owe that toso many people who have formed and foughtfor the gay community. I did my share, too.
If I hear one more rant about gay marriage, I will start drinking heavy liquor.
The man who has become my magnetic north is far away this weekend. Last year, he was here for this weekend and we were together, doing what this is all about.
He just called me from Istanbul, across the street from Hagia Sophia. Joked that he could still read the Latin graffiti I carved into the door in 1973. Meant more to me than the speeches down the street.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
But if you watch LGBT media or read LGBT writing, you will see that it is perfectly ok, even bold and transgressive and edgy...ooooh.... to treat Christian religion and Christians with a snide, cartoonish attitude and often grossly inaccurate portrayals. But LGBTs are victims of intolerance and bigotry...so that relieves them of any obligation to treat fairly people who differ from them.
Monday, June 22, 2009
It's about romance between men, in a totally implausible little town in Montana where the whole sweet and quirky community conspires to bring them together. It's the way you wish the world could be sometimes. Not called Eden for nothing.
It's deeply sentimental and full of the traditional themes and tropes of romances. The guys in it are characters in a fictional romance, but they're not gay cartoons, and they are guys, guys in love.
And I sit here smiling and crying and being totally undignified.
Speaking of undignified, I am watching it on the LOGO channel, an LGBT TV channel on cable. Most of whose fare is, to this old dog, seriously offputting. Certainly not aimed at my age demographic. But then I never was a fan of nightmare drag queens and nelly teeners. For all its softheartedness, Big Eden is about humans with hearts and as its centerpiece, men with hearts.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The movie is slow moving, too long. The freezing cold of an Albany winter is one of the themes, and yet we see foliage and such which would not be around during those months. But what irked me most is the character of Timmy, the boyfriend. In the other films, he is played "sorta fey". In this one he is a dickless sissy, playing a clingy pseudo-wife. And you know how much I love that.
The low point is a scene where Don, the PI, is locked in mortal struggle with a bad guy who has a knife to his throat. Timmy shows up and finds a revolver and points it shakily at the assailant, commanding him to stop. The thug laughs at him and continues to fight. Timmy just trembles and cannot pull the trigger. Don kills the guy himself. When Timmy apologizes for being unable to kill --hardly sufficient atonement; dying of shame might approach it-- Don tells him that's why he loves him. WTF?
The Alpha-Beta dynamic in male-male relationships is pretty strong, but this particular story makes Timmy an Omega, a gutless girl. And in fact, one of the young girls in the porno harem shows more balls than he does. I hate this stuff.
Men often have a preference for different regions of the anatomy. I am an admirer of a good pair of shoulders. I work on mine and have done better than I thought. Was standing near a man in the gym today whose frame I admire and I thought it would be nice to be built like him. When I looked in the mirror and saw both of us together, I realized we were not that different in the shoulder department. I liked that. Although I am over 6 feet tall, weigh 200 lbs and am in pretty good shape, I sometimes forget that, and the "skinny-marink" I grew up being still inhabits my body.
There are different flavors of tiredness. I am tired after working out, but it feels good. I am tired in the muscles I work out, usually 48 hours later, and this is achy and unpleasant. I am tired to the point of wanting to fall right off to sleep; that is sweet. And I am tired from being too tired; that is not.
Interesting how the component parts of our "real self" get decided. Does it include our neuroses, our immaturities and our maladaptive attitudes, beliefs and behaviors? When I was a teenager, I slumped, dragged my feet and mumbled. My father would have none of it. Consequently, I stand up straight, walk like a man (though I pronate markedly) and speak clearly. What's my real self?
A gay man who colors his hair, has his teeth fixed and gets gel injections in his ass is simply considered to be improving himself, even if it is a little vain. If someone criticizes him because he moves and sounds like a teenage girl, THAT is defended as his real self and the one who criticizes is a homophobe.
What are homosexual men for? Why does nature keep making us? If you reject the notion that we are an ongoing mistake, like a hair lip or deafness, what purpose do we serve?
On a bad day, it seems to me that many of us are merely ornamental, decorative, a kind of accessory to a certain kind of civilization. In the words of Olympia Dukakis in Steel Magnolias, "What sets us apart from the lower animals is our ability to accessorize."
Although I am sitting in northern California, a part of me is floating on the other side of the globe, where it is morning along the Silk Road and a soul I care about is getting ready to board a train.
I'm watching Bogart play Marlowe with Lauren Bacall in the 1946 Big Sleep. Reminds me of one of my favorite films, Neil Simon's 1976 Murder by Death. Wiki describes it: "The plot combines a convoluted, highly improbable murder-mystery arc with plenty of farce, slapstick, witty banter, and self-referential humour." No wonder I like it.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Boyish charm, but definitely a man.
And talented. He can sing and dance
and has a gift for comedy. Has
class and can laugh at himself.
A while ago he announced himself
"a contented gay man". Been with his
partner David for five years.
Describes himself as "a jester, not an
advocate", and strives to be "an example
Thursday, June 11, 2009
As part of a discussion thread on casual sex and gay men, a man "of African descent" who styles himself "misterprofessor69", disgorges himself of a lot of grandiose and highblown pomo jargon, misused and misspelled, in order to secure himself the coveted victim spot so he can feel superior. I remain unmoved by his plight, if irritated by his vocabulary and syntax.
Have I lost my compassion, or do I not waste it on people who feed on it?
Sunday, June 07, 2009
"The liberal, and the group, nation or civilization infected by liberal doctrine and values, are morally disarmed before those whom the liberal regards as less well off than himself ...Liberalism is the ideology of Western suicide."
James Burnham, 1964
The suicidalism of the liberal West continues to horrify and amaze me.
Unless I am grossly unfamiliar with my own soul, I would not hesitate to fight to protect who and what I love, nor to kill in its defense. This most natural and necessary of human responses seems alien to so many of the people living in the richest and freest civilization in history, people who seem to lack the elementary instinct that they have a right to live.
Although James Burnham did not provoke my conversion to conservatism, his writing articulates it very well indeed. I sometimes think that he encapsulates best my attitude toward liberalism and the managerial state. A good summary of his views here.
A note on the gender game.
A woman journalist goes to Afghanistan
to interview the Taliban.
Proving that she is an idiot or worse.
The Taliban capture her, hold her for ransom
and serially rape her.
Utterly Stockholmed, she excuses her rapist
captor and attacks her own government.
When this astonishing behavior is pointed out,
the one who points it out is accused of
psychologically re-raping her.
Women can do anything a man can do
and must be allowed to do so.
BUT, when they suffer the unique vulnerability
that women have,
they must be treated like the helpless,
mindless and innocent creatures
that patriarchal oppression has always
held them to be.
And if you don't follow these rules,
you, not the Muslim pigs who raped here,
are the criminal.
And you wonder why I rant?
When young female American journalists
wind up in trouble in Iran or North Korea,
we react to them as young females in trouble.
Not not not the equal with males.
But God forbid that we point out the madness
of young women going to places like Axis of
Evil parts 2 and 3.
That would be sexist.
PS While I'm at it, male journalist Steve Centanni
appeared on Fox TV the other day. After being forced
at gunpoint to convert to Islam, he came home and
professed "the highest respect for Islam."
Why is this man still working as a journalist?
Friday, June 05, 2009
Particulars aside (and the howler about tolerance in Muslim Andalucia during the Inquisition), my beef about Barry Hussein's speech to the Ummah is that he did it at all. It's like the Mayor of LA going out to make a speech to the assembled gangs of the city. Just the fact that he showed up to talk to them tells them that they have the upper hand. He apologizes for the excesses of the police; the gangs apologize for nothing. Ever.
"America will never be at war with Islam!", says the Apostate in Chief. The lambs, in parliament, may declare the universal rule of vegetarianism, but somehow the wolves will not get the message.
I eat meat every day.
I move between macro and micro worlds. I am always trying to tweek The Theory of Everything (a compulsion of us Enneagram Fives) and yet I get carried away, often through feeling and sensation, with the particulars, especially particular people.
The combination of personal affection and sexual chemistry creates what feels like an alternate universe, with a mesmerizing combination of deep relaxation and seemingly inexhaustible excitement, of being familiarly at home and of being constantly surprised, of being utterly physical and free from the bonds of space, all at the same time.
Being a Five, and having an IQ in the top 2%, I have a natural tendency to think that I am smarter than most people. I am, in fact. Smart does not always cash out as right or helpful or even useful, --this I have learned through experience--but it definitely gives you a bead on dumb. Of which there is always more than enough to go around. Many people are, in fact, stupid. The comments sections of some of the sites I visit make me think that way too many people are being allowed to vote and procreate who really should do neither.
The Desmond Hatchett and his harem story provoked some very unPC thoughts in me. About 70% of Black children are now born out of wedlock and raised by unmarried women. That scenario now does far more damage to Black Americans than any phantom racism they are supposed to be still suffering from (though it has now "gone underground" and must be searched out more skillfully...) One of the worst features of slavery was the forcible break-up of families; now they do it themselves. What's the message to a young Black boy, especially, if neither his father nor most of his friends' fathers gave enough of a shit about him to hang around and take care of him?
On the gay marriage and homosexuality scene, some deepthinking gays have pointed out that Jesus said nothing about gay people in the Gospels, so he must have been fine with it. (See paragraph 3). Well, he said nothing about slavery, either. What do you do with that? Whatever you believe about the issue, it galls me that some self-important sloganeer assumes that he can outthink two-thousand years of engaged Christian grappling with Him and his meaning and sum it all up in a half a paragraph about Luv.
I always did and still hate Mr. Rogers.
The Queen of Norway visited a mosque for the first time recently, to promote "understanding between the two cultures." (That there should be two cultures in little Norway to begin with is its own disaster.) She wore a headscarf. And when she tried to shake the imam's hand, he refused to touch her. Is there any clearer image of what is happening there?
When Barry Hussein O said, "Let there be no doubt; Islam is a part of America", my stomach turned.
Places like Japan and Korea have cultures which make assimilation by immigrants almost impossible. And they are wise and humane and honest in resisting and restricting immigration. No one has a right to enter anyone else's country. And why should they take you in if they have no intention of ever accepting you or your children? And to throw a country with a strong ethnic identity --which means most countries--- into turmoil over some highminded and deeply destructive liberal compulsion about human rights and multiculturalism is, in my view, both stupid and evil.
Today is the anniversary of the invasion of Normandy. Proving, as we have been taught by our betters and their bumper stickers, that war is never the answer and that violence solves nothing.
I see so much of contemporary Western culture as riddled with guilt over its past successes because they inevitably came at the expense of loser groups. As if this were the first time in history that this inescapeable pattern took place. I do in fact sense a large section of the West committing suicide in atonement for this. And I wonder: has any other culture in history engineered its own destruction out of guilt like this?
And paradoxically, has any other culture in history done so much so fast to accomodate the grievances of loser groups and their descendants and wannabees fellow-victims?
One of the pleasures of abandoning liberalism, one that has been noted by other converts to the Dark Side, is that you don't have to lie to yourself all the time anymore. You get to see things and name them without the anxious fantasies of the Ministry of Truth directives in your head telling you that they are not there.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
and Megan Cooper
have in common?
Guest list on the Jerry Springer or Maury Povich shows?
Well, maybe someday.
At the moment, what they have in common is
PS. Turns out that Mr. Hatchett has a criminal record some 14 pages long. Also, the news reports keep referring to the "moms". Notice the lingo, the warmth and non-judgmentalism of that affectionate word. I have another couple of words to describe these pathetic and destructive women.
Two years later, my mother remarried the man whom I knew and think of as my father, the man who raised me and whose name I carry. And they had another six children together.
Had my birth-father's car been just a few seconds either side of the crash moment, he would not have died. I would have had not only a different name, but a different life, a different family. I would have been someone else. And the family that I know, my brothers and sisters, and now their families, would never have existed.
All because of a few seconds.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Can you imagine the response if he had described America as "one of the largest Christian countries in the world"?
I am beginning to be tempted to hate this man.