Gay is In

I was watching Bravo's latest, The Real Housewives of New York, the other night. To remark, it's okay...not as good as the Californian women, I guess, but still okay. Let's face it: if it's on Bravo, I watch it no matter how crappy it is. It's like Bravo exhumes some sort of gay perfume through the airwaves. None of us can resist! (This may be, in part, because of the inordinate amount of gay people that grace Bravo TV).

Something bothered me though. It actually bothered me a lot; sort of crawled under my skin and stayed there. Which is funny, because it's not like anything I haven't heard before. I don't remember which episode...I think it was the second...but Jill, one of the housewives they follow, is shopping for a dress. Cut to Jill's little taped monologue, and she says something along the lines of: "I need my gay, there." Then cue back to the room where her gay, some New York designer-obsessed monstrosity of a homosexual, starts ordering her around telling her what to wear and how to wear it.

What got under my skin was that phrase: "my gay". Like it was a possession. Now, I know to rich white women in New York pretty much everything is a possession, but I've heard this before in less high circles. "My gay". "My gay went shopping with me." "My gay picked out some great clothes." "My gay decorated my apartment, it looks fabulous!" You get the drift.

Are fashionable gay men the latest craze among heterosexual women. What's in this season? Gucci handbags, black and white dresses, and gay shopping buddies.

The notion was popularized by such TV shows as "Will & Grace" and "Sex & the City", where gay men were seen helping heterosexual women in their quests for material and sexual happiness. Which, to be fair, I don't recall the phrase "my gay" every really being used on the show. The gay men portrayed on those shows and the heterosexual women were just friends, and sure they may shop together but it was strictly because they were friends before.

I think what women want now is some Jack/Stan clone to follow them around and tell them how fabulous they look and how they can look even better. Which is derogatory. It's just plain derogatory. I don't care that the gay men don't seem bothered by it or that the women insist they're friends with their gay shoppers. It's derogatory to be spoken about in terms of possession.

What I think is going on here is a social exchange. In exchange for a gay, someone to shop with and pamper with, these heterosexual woman promote, in part, the homosexual lifestyle. They give security to men whose stability within social circles is often severely lacking, to say the least. They open doors to higher strata of a society that still, as a whole, has not considered the homosexual its friend.

In exchange, they get to use the phrase "my gay".

Whose more to blame? These women or the gays who let them do it? I'm here to tell you, if any of my friends referred to me as "my gay", I would correct them then and there. Not snap at them, or go off on a tangent of equal rights. Just calmly take them aside and explain that I don't appreciate that term, because it devalues my existence as a legitimate person. Yes, it sounds way too heavy. They'd probably say: "don't be so serious". But let's see what they say if I take them to a gay bar and introduce them as "my heterosexual" repeatedly.

Sorry for the vent, but I felt it needed to be said. Respect comes before acceptance.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Celebrity Candy: My Latest Obsession

Watch Skins if you can. You can usually find the latest episodes on YouTube before they have to take them down due to copyright infringements. It's just your classic teenage angst drama crap, and I love every minute of it. Plus, they're British. Which makes everything they say hilarious to my American ears.

Oh, and this guy. Mitch Hewer. A-mazing. I mean, just amazing. He plays the openly gay character Maxxie on the show. He is not. Oh, Mitchie...if wishes were gay men, then you'd be mine.

The Return of the Spy

So I definitely haven't posted in a while, and that should definitely change.

Recap:

Still in college, still in The Red Stick, still in the closet to my family, still out and about with my friends, still a anthropology/sociology double major, still working out the kinks on my grand "Gay Theory"...

The theme of this recap? 'Still'

However, I do have a few new things to report: I'm sorta dating a boy, I kinda like him but he's not my physical type, but let's see what happens! Been dressing snazzier, getting some looks from guys, feeling all around better :)

So, all in all, not too shabby for your spy. Right now, I may not feel like I'm on top of the world, but I definitely feel like I can take anything that comes my way. Bring it on. And by that, I mean: bring on the new posts!!!

Mehdi Kazemi's petition for asylum is being reconsidered by the UK, after a high court in the Netherlands denied him the same treatment. This is the second time the UK has considered his proposal; they have already denied him asylum once. What's all the fuss for? Mehdi Kazemi is from Iran and is a homosexual. Under Iranian law, if he returns to his country he will be executed. His lover has already been hanged for crimes of sodomy, and named names under interrogation (obviously, his).

Returning to Iran is not possible for Mehdi. He will be killed. There has been too much media attention for him to return and be 'discreet', as the UK's government suggests. Sending him back is equivocal to a death sentence.

Let's keep Mehdi in our thoughts and prayers.

The Closet Case

First off, sorry for the sporadic updates. I've made it one of my short-term goals to post more regularly...at the same time, I've also got a couple of ideas to spruce up the blog a bit and get some more people on that Google radar thing. But today, my topic of choice is something very near and dear to me: the closet case.

There's a boy in my student organization, who is so obviously gay it kills me. I know that we shouldn't stereotype, but the evidence against him is nigh insurmountable. He loves to dance to rap and "booty" music, he oils his hair back, he talks with a feminine-esque voice, and he hasn't had a relationship or hookup with any girl in the past three years (as long as I've known him). I just want to wrap him in a rainbow flag and throw him in the nearest gay bar.

At first, his closeted nature simply attracted my attention. At the time, though, I was still coming out of the closet myself; so, I was worrying about other matters than my fellow spies. After I came out, he became a running joke with my friends and I. Obviously, not the kindest path to take but, hey, who's perfect? Lately though, he makes me feel frustrated. Frustrated, because it's so obvious, and so many people joke about it, that it almost feels at times that he's making a fool of himself and maybe the gay population as a whole.

Undoubtedly, I should be more sympathetic, more understanding of his position (if he is indeed gay and in the closet). After all, for all I know he just might be in the utility room and I'm just not a close enough friend. He may very well be straight (ha, right). Regardless, the point I'm trying to make is that I should treat him better, maybe even approach him in some manner, as a fellow gay man. Offer him therapy.

Therapy? Yes, therapy. When we say the phrase "closest case", it's not a stretch to link it to psychology. Consider the phrase, "head case" or "basket case". Is being in the closet a detrimental, psychological disorder or fault? Is it something that needs to be corrected?

I would say, yes. And before you get your Calvin Klein underwear in a twist, think about the harm that can come from staying in the closet your entire life. You marry, have children, and begin experimenting with men. You realize, too late, that you made a mistake and as a result people's lives are ruined. Yes, the example is extreme, but it happens. It's not even that unheard of. It's important to say here that I don't think these people are wrong for coming out...they just could have saved a lot of heartache if they had come out sooner. The same way a clinically depressed person can save his or herself a lot of pain by seeing a therapist and taking medication regularly. Just think about all the inner turmoil that can be circumvented, by being honest with oneself. And if that takes a little therapeutic coaxing, so be it.

I don't know if one day the phrase "closet case" will make itself into the DMV, but for now, I'll try to do my part, and maybe ask Mr. Closet Case a couple of choice questions. Or, maybe I'll leave well enough alone, but at the very least stop making jokes at his expense. After all, you never leave a man behind.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Bet Your Bottom Dollar....

There's a stigma that men like me must overcome. And no, it's not being gay. In fact, this stigma comes, in part, from the gay community itself. It's the stigma of being a bottom.

I was with a group of my close friends talking about sex when the subject came up. Actually, it wasn't too long after I came out, so there seemed to be some general curiosity about my experience and preferences. "So Spy, you like to be in charge, right? Wink wink, nudge nudge." "Actually, I'm a bottom."

Then you get it: the reconsidering glances and outright stares. A bottom? No, couldn't be. It seems that to many in the Republic (and the Nation Of Queeria, I might add) being gay is just dandy. Having sex is great. Anal sex is OK, as long as you're giving it. But if you're on the receiving end, it becomes something of a no-no. The stigma here is that you're the bitch. Let's face it; I love being gay, but anal sex is pretty rough. I mean, it's our only option, true, but imagine taking something as thick as a beer can inside an opening smaller than your pinkie...it's tough.

So it follows that people wonder what kind of people would like being bottoms. In doing so, they draw up a kind of psychological model of the bottom, an attention-craving, subservient, feminine creature. Obviously, I'm going to the extreme end of the pool with my adjectives, but it still seems like people think along these lines.

I'm a bottom. I'm proud to say that. I like my man to pay attention to me, to want to be inside of me. But it isn't just about anal sex. I want someone to take care of me, to wrap their arms around me at night. Yes, I'm a bottom. But we can't all be tops. It's too much work.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

One Step Closer to My Vote

I admit, I'm not the biggest fan of Senator Obama. Maybe it's just the ears, but something puts me off about the guy. Still, ever since Giuliani dropped out he's gotten a little bit closer to getting my vote (I'm sure he's waiting on edge). This is the newest development on his stance with the GLBT population and he gets a big thumbs up from me. Read it after the jump.

I’m running for President to build an America that lives up to our founding promise of equality for all – a promise that extends to our gay brothers and sisters. It’s wrong to have millions of Americans living as second-class citizens in this nation. And I ask for your support in this election so that together we can bring about real change for all LGBT Americans. Equality is a moral imperative. That’s why throughout my career, I have fought to eliminate discrimination against LGBTAmericans. In Illinois, I co-sponsored a fully inclusive bill that prohibited discrimination on the basis of both sexual orientation and gender identity, extending protection to the workplace, housing, and places of public accommodation.

In the U.S. Senate, I have co-sponsored bills that would equalize tax treatment for same-sex couples and provide benefits to domestic partners of federal employees. And as president, I will place the weight of my administration behind the enactment of the Matthew Shepard Act to outlaw hate crimes and a fully inclusive Employment Non-Discrimination Act to outlaw workplace discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity. As your President, I will use the bully pulpit to urge states to treat same-sex couples with full equality in their family and adoption laws. I personally believe that civil unions represent the best way to secure that equal treatment. But I also believe that the federal government should not stand in the way of states that want to decide on their own how best to pursue equality for gay and lesbian couples — whether that means a domestic partnership, a civil union, or a civil marriage.

Unlike Senator Clinton, I support the complete repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) – a position I have held since before arriving in the U.S. Senate. While some say we should repeal only part of the law, I believe we should get rid of that statute altogether. Federal law should not discriminate in any way against gay and lesbian couples, which is precisely what DOMA does. I have also called for us to repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and I have worked to improve the Uniting American Families Act so we can afford same-sex couples the same rights and obligations as married couples in our immigration system. The next president must also address the HIV/AIDS epidemic. When it comes to prevention, we do not have to choose between values and science. While abstinence education should be part of any strategy, we also need to use common sense. We should have age-appropriate sex education that includes information about contraception. We should pass the JUSTICE Act to combat infection within our prison population. And we should lift the federal ban on needle exchange, which could dramatically reduce rates of infection among drug users. In addition, local governments can protect public health by distributing contraceptives.

We also need a president who’s willing to confront the stigma – too often tied to homophobia – that continues to surround HIV/AIDS. I confronted this stigma directly in a speech to evangelicals at Rick Warren’s Saddleback Church, and will continue to speak out as president. That is where I stand on the major issues of the day. But having the right positions on the issues is only half the battle. The other half is to win broad support for those positions. And winning broad support will require stepping outside our comfort zone. If we want to repeal DOMA, repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and implement fully inclusive laws outlawing hate crimes and discrimination in the workplace, we need to bring the message of LGBT equality to skeptical audiences as well as friendly ones – and that’s what I’ve done throughout my career. I brought this message of inclusiveness to all of America in my keynote address at the 2004 Democratic convention.

I talked about the need to fight homophobia when I announced my candidacy for President, and I have been talking about LGBT equality to a number of groups during this campaign – from local LGBT activists to rural farmers to parishioners at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, where Dr. Martin Luther King once preached. Just as important, I have been listening to what all Americans have to say. I will never compromise on my commitment to equal rights for all LGBTAmericans. But neither will I close my ears to the voices of those who still need to be convinced. That is the work we must do to move forward together. It is difficult. It is challenging. And it is necessary. Americans are yearning for leadership that can empower us to reach for what we know is possible. I believe that we can achieve the goal of full equality for the millions of LGBT people in this country. To do that, we need leadership that can appeal to the best parts of the human spirit. Join with me, and I will provide that leadership. Together, we will achieve real equality for all Americans, gay and straight alike.

Celebrity Candy: My Superhero

My favorite 'superhero' was ALWAYS Batman. Why? Because Batman was smart...he had to work for it. He was just an ordinary multi-billionaire with karate skills and a wise English butler, trying to make the world a better blace by wearing tights and using gadgets (if you got a bit of a dirty image out of that, you might see why I like him so much.

My favorite celebrity? Harder to pick, but this guy is definitely up there. Christian Bale. Hot. Hawt. HAWT. I think I just came a little, which is bad because I'm at work right now :P. But, anyway, he's also a great actor. With a great body. Great, great body. Perfect body, really.

Hmmmmmmmm.

And if that doesn't get you excited, this will. According IMDB.com, Bale is expected to perform in the movie Public Enemies, a film by Michael Mann (also directed Miami Vice) with...guess who? Johnny Depp and Channing Tatum. And, there I go again.....

Anyway, looking forward to that. It's also rumoured he's the lead role in the fourth Terminator movie. Not so sure about that, but if anyone can make me go to the theatre's to see that, he can.

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, What You Going to Do....

...what you going to do when the gay cops come for you?

This is the question that former television news anchor Alycia Lane faces. After downgrading her charge from felony to misdemeanor, a gay police officer organization has begun criticizing the judge and the court. The whole thing follows an alledged attack Lane made against an undercover cop (while uttering some choice homophobic remarks). You can read the article here, if you like.

My question is, what is this gay police officer organization and how do I sign up? I do love a man in uniform.

Fears in Fort Lauderdale

In Fort Lauderdale, police reported the beating of a gay man outside of an all-night diner last Saturday. The victim, Melbourne Brunner, was having a quick bite with his partner when a man verbally accosted the two. They tried to leave, but he followed them to the car and there phsyically assaulted Brunner. This only raises fears in Lauderdale, where barely a week ago 17-yr. old Simmie Williams, Jr. was killed in what is believed to be another hate crime.

The local gay organizations and activists are calling for increased police involvement and compassion in these crimes and is calling out the local mayor due to previous statements about the gay community. But here's my rub...these comments that Mayor Jim Naugle made (a YEAR ago, mind you) simply stated (according to this article) that he thought gays were promiscuous and unhappy. Well, I kind of have to agree with Mr. Naugle on the promiscuity note. As for unhappy, he has the right to his opinion. If that's all he said, I fail to see how that created a so-called atmosphere of gay hate. Also, remember that these coments were a year ago. I guess the perpetrators of these crimes needed twelve months to let the message sink in. I'm not trying attack the activists and concerned gay population, here. I guess I'm just saying: don't let the fear create more antagonism. Now is a time for the community to come together and stop these actions from continuing. Cooperate with the mayor instead of blaming him offhand, I suppose is what I'm trying to say.

And, of course, remember the young man whose life was lost, and the other whose life was forever changed. Mourn, and let their lives touch yours.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Support Gay Marriage....

...by signing the HRC's Million for Marriage petition, located here

Finding Mecca

This Saturday the Anthropology Department at my university is sponsoring a field trip to Houston, TX in order to see the Lucy exhibit at the museum. For those of you who don't know, Lucy is kind of a big deal to anthropologists. She's the skeleton of an early hominid, Australopithecus afarensis, one of the earliest ancestors of Homo sapiens. What's so remarkable about Lucy is that, while only about 40% of the skeleton was recovered, that 40% encompasses all of the primary body parts (i.e. there's an arm and a leg and a foot and a skull). So, Lucy is able to tell us an extraordinary amount, like the fact that she is about as tall as a kindergartener or the fact that she was bipedal (walked on two legs...VERY important to evolutionary biology).

Whether I'm going or not is still up in the air (although it unfortunately looks like I'm going to miss out), but what's so funny is nearly ALL the anthropology students are going. Seeing Lucy is a big deal to us; it's kind of like being able to talk to Adam Smith if you're an economist or smoke crack with Freud if you're a psychologist. Lucy is one of the cornerstones of our study of prehistory. For many of the students, she's a kind of Mecca.

The hardcore anthropologists have Lucy. The gay population has San Fransisco. Catholics have Vatican City, Jews have Israel, Muslims have...Mecca. But as I sit here, typing, it occurs to me that I don't really have a Mecca. I don't have some place that's so important to me that I have to see it before I die. I'm not too terribly concerned about seeing Lucy. I've been to San Fransisco and although admittedly I wasn't out yet I still the thought the city was ok. Just ok. It didn't inspire a religious-esque awakening or anything. Neither does Lucy. Or the Vatican City, New York, Israel, London, Cancun, or the People's Republic of China. I have nowehere that I want to go.

It feels to me like I'm still trying to find my Mecca, the place I want to go to, to be in. And maybe I even know what my Mecca is: a relationship with a guy that I can say "I love you" to, a man that I could fall asleep with every night with his arm wrapped around me. Cue the corny music, I know, but it is what it is. My Mecca is a happy, fruitful relationship, and I can't find it anywhere. How long do I have to journey before I reach my destination?

Thanks for listening.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

I've Heard of Earth-Shattering Sex.....

...but this is ridiculous. This guy, Shas MK Shlomo Benizri, says that recent earthquakes in Israel are the fault of the gay population. Since laws prohibiting homosexual behavior have been a little lax, God is punishing Israel by sending earthquakes. I dunno, it's a little flattering that God pays so much attention to us, if you ask me.

Read the article here.

P.S. He's a handsome devil, too, isn't he?

R.I.P., Lawrence King

If you haven't heard or read about this yet, Lawrence King was a student in a California high school who was killed by a fellow classmate, reportedly because of his sexual orientation. Lawrence was open about his sexuality and, according to some classmates, walked into school with makeup and feminie jewelry. His family,
especially, is in my prayers, as are all of his friends and loved ones. With all the inevitable media coverage of this tragedy, I think it's easy to lose sight of the person who's life ended so abruptly. Just remember, as you read news articles about gay community's involvement or the response from the political sector, you remember Lawrence King and honor his life by observing his death. May you rest in peace, Lawrence.

With love,
Your Spy

Senegalese Nightmare

I read this article off the Google Gayfeed last night. In the West African country of Senegal, there have been riots over the publication of photos from a gay wedding in a magazine. In this strongly Islamic country, homosexuality is illegal. The published photos have spurned arrests, riots by anti-homosexuals, and the sudden attention of the entire world. The article is pretty cut and dry, no different from accounts of civil disobediance and strife in our own country. But my fingers were trembling as I scrolled down the page, and my heart was beating faster as my instincts jump-started the old fight-or-flight response. It scared me. I can't even remember the last time I got that scared over something as plain as a newspaper article.

I think the fear really hit in when a man was quoted as saying: "Homosexuals are not welcome in our country. They're not tolerated in Senegal." Around him, the protesters chanted "Allahu Akbar" (God is Greatest). I can't explain, but as I read those words I could see this man in my mind's eye: a dark-skinned man, his face held in tension as he screamed at the police, and his eyes filled with such anger that the blood vessels had begun to stand out, giving him a red-eyed impression.

That night, I had a nightmare. See, I have some next-door neighbors in my apartment complex who are "Christian soldiers". This is a direct quote; this is what they call themselves. I once overheard them outside my front door, referring to themselves as such and talking about a brother who had strayed away. At the time, I thought it was funny, ironic even. But last night, I dreamed that one of them was knocking on my door, and when I answered he grabbed me by the shoulders roughly and called me a faggot, saying that I would not be tolerated in our apartment complex.

Just a dream, but it was strong enough to wake me up in the middle of the night with an aching feeling in my shoulders. I think this kind of fear, this fear that the majority will come one day in the night to take us away, sits at the emotional core of every minority member. Beneath all the derision of frat boy fashion, all the anger at George Bush's gay marriage ban, and all the suffering that those in the closet undergo is this very palpable fear, this realization of weakness. We see the vast majority of those against us and think to ourselves that any action is undeniably futile, that we will be overwhelmed.

I guess we just have to fight through it. Find someone to care for us, someone to take care of, and make the best of what life or God or, yes, even Allah has given us.
Accept the fear and try to rise above it. And hope that one day we'll wake up and the nightmare will be over.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Happy Valentine's Day

Everyone hates Valentine's Day so much. I'm kind of indifferent, but a holiday's a holiday. So I have a gift for all of ya'll.

If you're lonely this Valentine's Day, take a page from jd2004dc:\



If you're in a boring, lackluster relationship, try being like these guys:



And, finally, if you're in a relationship with TOO much drama, try laughing it out with everyone's favorite homosexual machine:



Wishing you a happy V-Day (for whatever it's worth),
Your Spy

Good News....

I'm off the Dave Drug. And the good news is, this time, it may very well be for real.

I won't deny that if I'd ever get the chance I'd sleep with him in a heartbeat. I mean, he's still attractive and, more importantly, he has that voice. But now I don't feel bad about feeling rejected by him. Now I don't feel uncomfortable being around him, talking to him, joking with him. I don't want to hold off on other relationships just in case something between us might work out. You may ask, how could this be so? I'll tell you.

Dave is an asshole.

Four lovely little words release me from my awkward obligation. Dave is an asshole. And this isn't me at all. This is a third-party. This is his friend telling me this. This is objectivity. Dave is an asshole. He has an older, richer man, out of college, from out of town who buys him things. Yes, Dave has a sugardaddy. Dave hooks up with random people on Bourbon Street. Dave is narcissistic. I am not the first that he's led along. All according to his roommate, his friend. I'm telling you, I should have gotten this guy's screenname sooner.

Wow. I mean, I didn't think it would be this easy. I get crushes like a prostitute gets STDs, and generally it's a tapering off of emotion that signifies the end. But this? Bam, I'm done. I admit that I'm a little suspicious of it, but then again, it's nice to have this feeling. Now that it's on the table, I'm actually talking with a new boy...let us all offer a quick prayer that it's not another Jason and not another Dave. I'm tired of all these emotional things. A spy just wants to have fun.

Thanks for listening. It's nice to give good news every once in a while.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Celebrity Candy: The Only Senior Citizen I'd Sleep With

Ian McKellen. Yes, I'd do him. I'd do him faster than you can say "liver spots". He's a legend, for Christ sakes. Plus, you know he has tons of experience. Old people still have so much to teach us.

What's In a Name?

GLBT. You see this acronym often; it stands for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual. It refers to the community of people that we homosexuals identify ourselves with. In short, it is the community of sexual "deviants", we who flow against the norm in our choice of sexual partner or sexual identification. But maybe you haven't seen this acroonym that often. Maybe you've seen LGBT. Or maybe LBGT. Or, my personally favorite, GLBTQ (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual, queer...just in case we left anything out).

What's in a name? Maybe not much, but it would be kinda nice if we could at least have a set name to start off with. You may ask: why the change in letter arrangement? Well, generally, if it's a gay man writing an article or piece, it's referred to as GLBT. If it's a lesbian, it's LGBT. Maybe someone who hasn't decided writes GLBTQ. Now you may ask: why does it matter? Sure, the chosen acronym reflects the writer and, maybe, his or her subconscious priority list, but big deal. Really, there are more important things to worry about than to raise a fuss over the proper name for the gay community.

The acronym's variability isn't a problem; it's a symptom of a much bigger problem. As a community, we all agree that it would be kind of nice to be given the same rights as our fellow straight countrymen and, in general, just be left to our own devices the same as any other red-blooded American. But our personal civil rights movements has had its up and downs, one reason because of a lack of support within our own community.

The Nation of Queeria has a weak collective conscience. What that means is, we all don't think the same way, share the same values, behave in the same pattern. We are a hodgepodge of different people, spanning multiple races and ethnicities and backgrounds. We share a common enemy, true, but our enemy really isn't so much an evil dictator as it is a parent that doesn't understand. We may be queer, and we may be here, but we're not all on board. We were raised in different ways, we are of different political parties (yes, as amazing as it sounds not all gay people are Democrats). We're not all for one, nor one for all. So it's no wonder that it seems like our movement takes two steps forward and one step back. It can't be easy with the inherent divisiveness of our community tugging at our backs.

So we stand, not necessarily divided, but not necessarily united either. As my good friend Delbert McClinton might stay, we're standing on shaky ground. So throw me a life preserver, 'cause I'm about to drown in my own tears.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Funnies

This is pretty hilarious...I have to hand it to Colbert. This is a two-part interview, the beginning of "Better Know A Lobbyist". He sits down with a prominent gay lobbyist for a chat. Let's watch.

Part One:



Part Two:

The Faggot FAQ

It's pretty much unavoidable: all homosexual people at one time either were confused about their sexual orientation or were forced to pretend to be heterosexual or both. The question that is generally asked is "why?"; however, it's a lot easier to answer the question "how?" first. Maybe we ("we" being society, the media, and the government as a whole) are jumping the gun when we debate whether homosexuality is a genetic trait or a cultural one, whether it is possible to not be gay or if it's a sealed fate. I'm a fan of the scientific method, myself, and it seems like the scientific thing to do here is to start with the basics and work your way to the "why". "Why", after all, is only a function of what, where, when, and how.

WHAT is a homosexual? A homosexual is any person who is attracted, physically AND mentally, to a person of the same gender. WHERE does homosexuality occur? Whether hormonal or genetic or cultural, homosexuality can logically be concluded to occur within the brain. Where in the brain is still up for debate. On the level of society as a whole, homosexuality occurs within about 6% of any given population, according to most statistics. This percentage occurs across race, ethinicites, and geography. WHEN does homosexuality occur? Once again, most studies have concluded that homosexuality is decided since the onset of birth; a five-year old boy is gay, even if he hasn't exhibited it yet.

Which leads us, oh so conventiently, to the HOW. HOW are we homosexual? We are homosexual by being attracted to the same gender and by having sexual intercourse with any person of the same gender. When you cut it dry, homosexuality is pretty dull. The WHY can simply be answered like this: homosexuality is a result of the variation across the human genome, inevitably resulting in a statistical portion of the population to be attracted to members of the same gender.

No political grassroots movement here. No discrimination. No repression. See, there's a difference between being homosexual and being gay. Homosexuality is biological, statistically inevitable. Gay is cultural. Gay is political. Gay, queer, GLBT, that's just another group, another subsection of society. So, tonight, before I go back to reading articles and studying for tests, I ask my fellow members of Queeria a question: are you gay? or are you just homosexual?

Sincerely,
Your Spy

The Gays Are Coming! The Gays Are Coming!

So this is pretty funny, in a dark humorish sort of way. The American Family Association (AFA), a conservative group based in Mississippi, are calling on residents of the town of Eureka, Arkansas, to recognize the invasion of the queer population into their community.

That's right, folks, we're invading. Robert Knight, an anti-gay researcher, hit the nail on the head: "I can't help but think they get a special delight in taking over a place that has been known for its Christianity." You got us. Actually, we had invasion plans ready so as to take Rome by storm, but I guess the jig is up. Actually it's a little known fact, but San Francisco was once the epicenter for the California Christian Association of Conservative Christians. Never heard of them? That's because we invaded their asses...literally. Ouch.

Quick aside here: what exactly is "anti-gay", anyway? If he's an anti-gay researcher, that means he's studying the opposite of homosexuality. Which must mean he's studying...heterosexuality. So, he researches straight people. So why is he quoted in the article? What's a straightologist have to do with anything?

Full article here. Special thanks to the Dallas Voice for reporting.

Could It Be?

This is kind of cute. Apparently, Colin Farrell is going to be the best man at his gay brother's big, fat gay wedding. He helped pick out the ring and everything! He's even paying for the wedding or the bar tab or something. Take this news with a healthy tablespoon of salt, though...the source is the National Enquirer. Who knows, though, maybe they've hit this one on the head. And maybe Cow Boy really is in Wisconsin trying to get restaurants to boycott cheese. You never know.

Celebrity Candy: Spunky Marky

Young Mark Wahlberg. Is there anything more...uplifting???

Oh, I'm just too much. But seriously, this guy is great, even though he's a bit older now...I have a feeling he's still hiding a little something something underneath those clothes. Plus, he was an underwear model, so you know he's confident with himself. Plus, he's producing ALL the good shows on HBO (Entourage and In Treatment, and two out of two ain't bad). Plus, he's hot. Plus, he's tough. I would think he would have the whole rough sex thing down pat....hmmmmmmmmm....

Here's a more recent pic. C'mon Mark. I can take all the spunk you got. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

Gay Function

Function is the key word of the week. Saturday I went on a bus trip to the fabulous New Orleans for the fabulous Mardi Gras. Sunday I rested (me and God got that in common). And, on Monday, I had to function again. Job interview, shopping for new clothes for new job, reading sociology articles on crime for a quiz this thursday, and reading the book Guilty by Reason of Insanity for my class on serial crime. Fun reading, let me tell you.

But functioning means a little more for me this week besides dragging my butt through the mall and arguing with the Express sales clerk. To sociologists, function represents an entire school of though. According to the funcionalist theories, every group or faction or social bond has a specific function to society. If it did not have a purpose, it would not exist. Even crime has a function; the deviant behavior of others serves to show us what is considered normal and proper and what isn't.

So, a functionalist believes that every social group has a purpose. Which leads me to think about the gay population. I've been reading a LOT of scholarly articles and not a one has mentioned the function of the gay population. But that's okay, that's what I'm here for.

There's one, admittedly bleak, way of looking at it. The gay population is considered a deviant population. Before you get your thongs in a twist, you should know that the word deviant just means against the norm; to a sociologist, it does not imply "good" or "bad" behavior, just contrary behavior. An estimated 6% of the population is gay, i.e. a minority. We go against the grain; we deviate from the norm. So, we're a deviant population. Which means that our deviance serves to show the community what's normal and what isn't.

I know...it isn't exactly a ray of sunshine. I mean, crime is considered in much of the same way. This explanation pretty much puts that femme fagale or butchy lesbian on the same level as a burgalar or car thief or, dare I say it, rapist or murderer. Not exactly a great category to be in. So, being force-fed this explanation like a baby being spooned mushed peas leads to the obsessive search for something with a bit better public appeal. What is our function in society? Besides the designer clothes, the ripped bodies, the Broadway shows, the exotic floral designs or that fabulous set of curtains that you just can't believe your gay friend got at the flea market, what do we have to offer?

I think the answer is in the word. Homosexual. Sexual. What makes us different from the other 94%, what makes us deviant, is how we live our sex lives. We pair up, make love, fuck with the same gender. But that's it. Other than that, we're pretty much the same. Of course, there's the typical stereotypical gay man or lesbian, but I've seen lots of straight folks dancing and exercising and arranging flowers over the years. You see those stereotypes because you've been taught to see that behavior or pattern as homosexual. You forget that there are spies among you. That the man in the tie and suit in the elevator with you on your way up to the office said goodbye to his boyfriend that morning. Or that the women in front of you at the grocery store is buying the ingredients to bake a cake for her life partner's birthday. We're only different from you in that one regard: who we love.

And what more deviant behavior is there than love?

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Chipped Off

Things are still moving sluggishly for me here in the Red Stick. No word from Dave, but, good news, no word from Jason either (thank God for the block feature on AIM). I've still been feeling a little depressed lately and still having some trouble sleeping, but the funny, or sad, part is that when it comes to depression I'm a seasoned pro. It's absurdly easy to identify depressed thoughts and objectively remove them. Still, though, cognitive therapy takes more work than you would believe, so I've been moving around like a zombie lately. It doesn't help that still in waiting in limbo for a job to come through and for a class to come in.

In apartment news, I chipped a plate of Ashley's. I didn't think much of it at first...Amanda and I made sure to superglue the chipped part so it wouldn't scratch anyone/thing, but then Ashley came home and noticed. I don't think I've ever seen the girl more disappointed or passive aggressive in my life. The guilt train left the station and I was on board. I've spent at least an hour or two (it seems) searching the Internet for her stupid plate. But it's nowhere to be found. To make up for it and for eating some of her special king cake (which I didn't know was special), I bought her a brand new king cake from Whole Foods. Which, she can't eat because she doesn't like icing on her king cake. Hence, the special ordered one that I had previously taken a bite or two out of.

So, with lingering feelings of guilt, depression, and loneliness, I boldly face the new day. Don't worry, reader, I'm fine. Actually, Mardi Gras is coming up which will give me the perfect emotional lift. Every year my friends and I take a trip on Saturday to walk Bourbon and see the parades and come back to Baton Rouge late Sunday morning. Then maybe I'll go home and be pampered for a while. Yes, things will be looking up soon, and if they don't...well, I have that king cake in the kitchen to eat and a chipped plate to eat it on.

By the way, if you know of or have a soft square/square round white plate with the word mainstays on the bottom, I'd be willing to negotiate. Thanks.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Bad Battery

Here in the Red Stick we've been having a typical Louisiana winter--a couple of warm days followed by a col streak. The only thing that's worse than the indecisive weather is what it does to my car. i use to think that col weather was bad for the car battery, period, but turns out that it's worse for the battery to be exposed to alternating warm and cold periods in quick succession. What does this mean? It means that at 8 o'clock this morning, my car wouldn't start.

It's actually been a real bad day for me anyway, not just because of the car. I got zero hours of sleep last night because of the incessant thoughts that went on in my head. It's Dave again. A single text message on Saturday night sent me back into the usual "does he? will he?" cycle. Hot, passionate scenarios followed by cold rationalization. That's what happened last night. Why won't he? Why does he? Is he just being friendly? Is he flirting? No, he's not flirting. Put that out of your head. You two hardly know each other. It's not like he's Anderson Cooper or something.

Hot, cold. Hot, cold. It wears down the battery in my car, and it wore down my mind until the world took on a monocolored hue. I lay in bed and stared at my ceiling for hours and arrived at the cold truth. Why was I obsessing about Dave? Why didn't I just be patient and wait for Mr. Right, as Amanda always suggests. See, the truth is, I'm lonely. I've never had a relationship...I've never even been to a restaurant for a date or anything like that. I lay in bed, feeling so lonely it almost hurt. And there wasn't an arm to comfort me...there wasn't even a response to a text message from Dave. Hot, cold, hot, cold. Jesus said the truth would set you free; he never said it would help you sleep.

Political Structures

Report:

The Republic of Heterosexuality is a true republic in the fact that its citizens choose representatives of their sexuality in order to lead their nation. For example, The Female Party's representatives range from Martha Stewart to Oprah to Audrey Hepburn and, yes, even Hillary Clinton. The representatives, in short, represent a certain aspect of their femininity, be it the motherly charm of Mrs. Cleaver or the savvy satire of Carrie Bradshaw. Likewise, the Male Party has its representatives: George Clooney, John Wayne, Bruce Lee, Ronald Reagan, Napoleon. In short, any man that represents the three ideals of men: the ability to attract women, the ability to kick ass, and the charisma needed to lead other ass-kicking, women-attracting men.

In contrast, the Nation of Queeria is a true democracy: a free-for-all where every voice clamors for attention. Perhaps it's because of our time spent in the closet, but the need to assert individuality leads to a general discordance and overall bitchiness in most dialogue. The people of Queeria don't like to follow; they've were once enslaved to the concepts and attitudes of the Republic and do not relinquish that freedom easily. Yes, the Nation of Queeria is an entire nation of immigrants...similar to the history of colonial America, ironically. Outcasts who survive using ingenuity and a certain fearlessness and each other. Perhaps that is the only thing that keeps our nation together: a need for our neighbors against the much larger, better resourced Republic against whom we constantly struggle.

So, you have a large nation of followers, a small nation of independent thinkers, and an ongoing separation between the two. Of course, our talk of politics will eventually lead to the idea of war between the two nations, but take heart. Their uprising is our revolution. Funny, to think how hard those in colonial America fought for our nation's freedom, and how hard we fight for ours. Whose nation is more patriotic: the one with all the Congress seats, or the underdog who doesn't quit struggling?

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Celebrity Candy: The Cause

My friends and I consider Queen Latifah our cause, since we weren't able to find anything else we all agreed upon. Think about it. She's black, a woman, heavyset (and damn proud of it!), and (allegedly!) a lesbian. She has EVERYTHING going against her, and yet she's FABULOUS!!! Queen, marry me. I'll be such a good beard, you'll need to shave twice a day.

Please support Queen by clicking here

The Five Gay Archetypes

An archetype, for those of you who don't know, is an idealized model of a person or object. The concept is of particular importance in Jungian psychology, where an archetype are innate, universal dispositions that are reflected from our collective conscience. Ouch, look at all those big words. Anyway, my short but colorful forays into Queeria have led me to believe that there are five archetypes for the gay man, a reflection of our collective conscience.

Femme Fagale
-you'll recognize this one from all the movies he's in...outlandish clothing, a voice as high-pitched as a dog whistle...if the overly expressive hand gestures weren't your first clue, then the overly gelled hair should indicate this archetype

The Savvy Sodomite
-looking for a database of irrelevant and little-known facts about the world of Broadway? Or the history of Russian ballet? How about a complete knowledge of fine wines? Look no further than this archetype, the skinny, fit, well-dressed (but not over the top), manicured specimen of a gay man. The consider themselves witty, and sometimes they are

The Happy Homosexual
-often overweight and without any male companion to speak of, these happy-go-lucky fellas are often blessed with the companionship of female friends a harem strong...while fashion is not their top priority, neither is it of no concern...these are the gay friends that married women will seek to help decorate their homes or try to hook them up with a fellow happy

The "I Can't Believe I'm Not Straight" Gay
-you can't believe, they can't believe it, their parents sure as hell can't...lacking many of the vitals of the gay stereotype, these former jocks and quiet intellectuals still wear polo shirts, don't know what America's Top Model is, and haven't a clue as to whose gay in Hollywood and who isn't...the only thing that makes them undeniably gay is the fact that they like to have sex with men

The Pappa Bear
-this ultra masculine gay man with the handlebar moustache and leather whip serves as the polar opposite to the Femme Fagale...unrestrained homosexuality is the name of his game, so gym goers beware...he can bench press 350 and yes, he's winking at you

Celebrity Candy: The Guy You Hate to Drool Over

C'mon, you KNOW you love to see pictures of this guy. Just jump on the bandwagon already.

The Lone Man on the Island

Oh, school. How best to describe it? It's like being a hamster, running in a wheel...no, scratch that. It's like being stuck under the hamster wheel, where the constant motion slowly peels the skin off your back one millimeter at a time. This year, the biggest wheel for me is English 2025: Fiction. Yuck. I thought I was done with English two years ago, when I still thought I was going to be an English major. I figured that I liked to read, so I would like to be an English major, right? Wrong.

So, this semester, I'm finishing up my English requirement with this fiction class. Our first book is Robinson Crusoe. Talk about a snooze fest. One British guy all alone on an island. He doesn't even masturbate. I mean, literally, nothing sexual at ALL. What's a horny little gay boy to do?

But I admit, something in the book actually inspired me. Scary, huh? Abridged version of Robinson Crusoe: man wants money and adventure, goes on ship, storm on the ocean, stranded on island alone, finds footprint, cannibals that scare him, gets rescued, yada yada. And it made me think about the kids who use to tease me in high school. One, in particular. He was a horrible classmate (my age, but got held back so he was one class below me); always calling me queer and gay or at the very least making references to my face and behind my back. I was never scared of him, I don't believe, but I do think I might have been scared of the truth he was presenting to me. Did he know I was gay before I did? No, but I wasn't ready to come out, and I wasn't ready to be confronted with my homosexuality. The sad, and ironic, part is that I'm pretty sure he was, is, gay (or at the very very least bisexual, whatever that means). This seems a pretty common pattern throughout a lot of gay men's lives: the tormentors are the tormented. Nowadays, I think I pity him, but I'll also be the first to say that I'm still a wee bit angry at him.

So, what does all this have to do with Robinson Crusoe? Crusoe was tossed around on the ocean, isolated on an island, and fearful of his his neighbors ("invaders"). The life of my tormentor is comparable. Let us say I'm correct, which I am. I'll call my high school tormentor, Tort, to make things simple. Tort is so deep in the closet he's finding old Christmas presents. Suddenly, he experiences thoughts and emotions that confuse him, thoughts of attraction to other men (the tumultuous sea). Tort denies himself further and ends up in a place where he can never be happy (isolated on the deserted island). He is confronted by evidence of other homosexuals and homosexual activity; confusion and fear becomes anger at the constant intrusions onto his otherwise well structured life (the cannibals on the island). If he's lucky, one day he'll encounter someone to take him off the island and back to the Port of Queeria, but most likely it will never be that way. So many men are destined to be the Crusoe on the island for the rest of their lives, alienated from the one place they could be comfortable.

Wow. Did I get all of that from an English class? I'm kind of impressed...maybe I won't skip the next class, after all.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

R.I.P., Heath Ledger

Rest in peace, Heath Ledger. I think Heath's death can yet serve a great purpose by opening the door to debating the availability and misuse of prescription drugs in today's makret and homes. Our thoughts go to his family, of course, but let us also keep all those children, men, and women who have lost their lives from overdose in our hearts and prayers.

With deep respect for those who have passed,
Your Spy

Where's Our MLK?

Today is Martin Luther King Day, a time designated to the American populace to reflect on our diversity and living together in peace. We are also meant to use this time to honor a great man who used nonviolence to achieve change within his community and the whole nation. Thanks in large part to Dr. King and his message, desegregation occurred and the African-America population has secured its civil rights.

If you watch the tube or read the paper, you've probably heard the phrase "the next great civil rights movement" in conjunction with the gay community and its issues, i.e. gay marriage, hate crimes, etc. It's true that as a minority we find ourselves with less right and privileges than others. But my question is: is there really a civil rights movement going on? Remember, I've spent way too much time in the Republic of Heterosexuality; I've noticed plenty of derogatory remarks, but only when a specific event or person is mentioned beforehand. They're not talking about what we're doing. They're not noticing our demands of recognition. We just aren't that much of a subject of interest. Sure, there are some sympathizers out there, but not nearly enough to accept us as fellow citizens, with the full rights thereof.

We don't have a Dr. King. We don't have the strength that the African-American community did. Why's that? First, the African-American community was segregated; every town or city had a certain section where black people lived and associated with one another on a daily basis. This gave them a strength of community that we do not have. Of course, many major cities have "gayborhoods". The Castro District in San Fransisco or the Greenwich Village in New York City are good examples. And in those cities there is a strong representation of the gay community. But elsewhere, not so much. Second, the black community couldn't help but be judged on first contact; they couldn't hide the color of their skin. Unfortunately, it's all too easy for people to hide their sexuality...even from themselves. Finally, they had someone like Dr. King; a strong, charismatic person who was well received by the entire populace and the judgement of history, especially because he advocated the practice of nonviolence. We don't have a Dr. King, a figurehead for our civil rights movement, and we sorely need one.

So is there a gay civil rights movement? I don't think so. Then again, maybe I've been in the Republic way too long. Maybe I'm not seeing what's there. I just hope there's something I'm missing.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Celebrity Candy: Mr. No-Shirt

I know this photo's been around for a while, but this is one of the best to me. We should just enjoy it while we can, because now that he has a baby on the way I have the bad feeling he's gonna go the Brad Pitt route...........

Obama Makes the GLBT Community Happy....

“If we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that none of our hands are entirely clean. If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll acknowledge that our own community has not always been true to King’s vision of a beloved community. We have scorned our gay brothers and sisters instead of embracing them."

-Barack Obama

So spoke the presidential candidate at a sermon at the Ebenezer Baptist Church. Is Senator Obama our community's best chance for greater equality on a national level? Survey says yes, since, right now, he seems like a safer bet than Hillary at getting the Democratic nod. However, this race is wild (and it hasn't even started yet!) so that could always change...stay tuned.

Rating Rating Porn

So I was cruising the usual blog suspects, reading news articles about Zac Efron and trying to find a high-def version of the Star Trek teaser trailer, when I spotted a little snippet from one of my fave blogs complaining about the latest video from a popular gay porn website. It's one of those sites that feature "straight men" biting the pillow and allowing other men to put penises in their bums for some sum of money. I have a little trouble believing that, but we'll get to that later.

Point is, he was complaining that the model who had bottomed in the video was a bad actor. I use the term actor; he didn't, but he was describing the poor facial expressions and lack of, shall we say, spirit in the same way the Roger Ebert does in his reviews of movies.

I suppose it isn't hard to appreciate the irony here: I'm ranting about another guy ranting about porn. But I've noticed a steady increase in the practice of rating and reviewing pornography. It isn't hard to see that this new trend comes from the Internet itself and the ability to blog to your heart's content about what matters to you. And what matters to a lot of men? Sex, of course. Masturbation. The freedom of a man's penis.

My only problem is, rating pornography seems a little over the top. I remember my theatre professor saying that watching and enjoying any kind of theatre (or for that matter, any kind of entertainment) requires the willing suspension of disbelief. Your penis does not willing suspend its disbelief. Why need suspension when the concept of belief doesn't even exist in that pretty little pink helmet it wears? I guess I see the penis as a ravenous dog that is never satisfied; it will take any boner, er, bone that is thrown at it. Does it care if it's a cut of USDA choice meat? No. Because, in the end, your penis will have its way. So download whatever is closest and feed the beast, because you may not get another chance in the next 24 hours. So What are you waiting for? Step to it!

Sincerely,
Your Spy

The AIM Game

Dave and I are at it again.

By "it", I mean the harmless chit-chat on America Online's Instant Messenger, more commonly known as AIM. Light banter, small jokes, a little smiley now and then. Nothing too serious. Which, of course, is the problem.

AIM is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it's the least intrusive way to communicate. A simple "hey" can be responded to at the other chatter's discretion. A screen name can even be blocked, if the instigator becomes annoying enough. It's pretty consequence-free, with small room for embarrassment. On the other hand, it's impersonal. Most importantly, you can't pick up inflection. Is he inviting me to watch movies with him and his friends of his own volition? Or does he feel pressured? Did he pick up a pity-me tone? Am I being paranoid? (the answer to that is always yes; but, in my defense, all spies are conditioned to be paranoid as a safety precaution).

So, nothing comes out of it. Unfortunately, I always end up telling myself that it's just harmless chit-chat. But now, writing this, I don't think it is. It just keeps giving me hope that one day he and I will hook-up. Which, in turn, makes me feel mildly to severely pathetic. Which starts a whole cycle of self-analysis and cross-examination that would make even the bravest psychologist twitch.

For now, I'll keep playing, hoping to come out a winner.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

There Are No Words.........

Rick Rollin it......the 80's should come back, just for a day or two.

Fun Things To Do

If you're stuck in the apartment with friends, if it's raining outside, and if you happen to have a copy of Hairspray (as any good gay man should), you may find this drinking game particularly fun. Here are the rules: you drink...

1) Every time someone says "Baltimore" (including the opening number)
2) Every time someone says "Corny Collins"
3) Every time someone says "Tracy Turnblat"
4) Whenever Zac Efron winks
5) To toast Queen Latifah after her number "Come So Far..."
6) When a particular word of your choice is mentioned in every song; for example, 'Mamma' in "Welcome to the '60s" or 'stop' in "You Can't Stop the Beat"

Like I said, if you find yourself stuck in the apartment, that's no excuse not to get schwasted and have fun, right? Right.

The Magician's Flourish

I read Perezhilton.com. I admit it. But the wonderful thing is, once I came out to my friends, that sort of behavior was acceptable. Critiquing my female friends' clothing? Not only acceptable, but desired. Watching romantic comedies? Dishing out gossip? Wearing tight pants? Putting gel in my hair? All acceptable for the gay man. Being gay gives you a great amount of freedom if you think about it. The full range of sexuality is available. For example, you can wear pink and talk with a lisp and know all the names of famous Russian ballerinas. Or, you can wear leather on a daily basis, ride motorcycles, and have enough chest hair to put a grizzly bear to shame. You can be whatever you want, because you're gay! Most of society rejects you, so why not do whatever the hell you want?

All it takes is the magic words: "I'm gay.". Then, with a swish of a cape and a puff of smoke: bam! Where once there stood a timid, awkward young man now stands an outlandish, in-your-face, we're-queer-and-we're-here gay man. The transition is something from a Las Vegas show. All you need to complete the picture is a chorus line and sequenced outfits. Which a lot of gay men have.

Would that everyone was so entertained by magic acts. But I've noticed that a lot of people don't like change. Is that why coming out is often met with such resistance? Do people resent the fact that where once stood a person they knew and loved, now there is someone different? And all within the space of two words. Most people like security and comfort; the fact that people can change so suddenly threatens their worldview. If a son or brother or friend can change so quickly, what else can go?

They want to know the secret behind the magic trick. But here's the thing: it's all smoke-and-mirrors. It's the same person on the stage, just with a little different lighting. Or maybe it's even deeper than that. Maybe what they resent is that the person before was the illusion, a trick, a deceit on their minds. This person now, he's the real deal. No more magic. Maybe it's not that people dislike the show. Maybe they just don't like it when the show ends.

Sincerely,

Your Spy

Update

So apparently the CDC reads my blog. They must have been the Big Number Twelve. Ha

Click http://http//www.cdc.gov/od/oc/media/pressrel/2008/t080116.htm to read their official statement.

P.S. I love how they have initials for us. MSM. Men who've had sex with men. Obviously, they have to to cover everybody, but still, it's a little too close to S&M for my taste. Guess I'm just weird like that.

Here We Go Again...

You may have seen this picture or something similar recently. This, as I understand it, is a photo of the new staph strain that appears to be completely drug-resistant. Many articles have been appearing on the net, but so far I haven't seen that much coverage on the national news nor the political arena.

According to an article on npr.org, the drug resistant restrain has been noticeably apparent among gay and bisexual men, due to the high numbers of sexual partners and questionable sexual practices. It's cropped up in San Fransisco, Los Angeles, New York, even Boston. Sporadic cases were noticed six years ago, but now the number seems to be on a sharp incline. Across the country, a few men have died. Does any of this sound familiar?

It should. The problem is, it doesn't seem to be hitting home. I suggest reading And The Band Played On by Randy Shilts. This pattern seems to, terrifyingly, correlate directly tot the early days of the HIV/AIDS plauge that afflicted America most noticeably in the '80's. Then, as now, early cases were underreported and doctors' cries went unheeded. Unsafe sexual practices continued to rage on. Taking the fact that this new strain appears to be concentrated among the gay population, appears to be spread through sexual contact, and carries with it a risk of death, we are faced in the seemingly same predicament as we were some thirty odd years ago. My how soon we forget.

However, it should be noted that it's not the same. There are several factors that we have going for us. The first is that simple soap and water may prove to be the best way to inhibit the spread. The second is that we, as a community AND a country, have gone through something like this before. Wiser heads may prevail. Finally, we have something that the 1980's didn't have: the Internet. Already, the information is spreading in a wonderfully efficient way. We already know about the infection, and interested parties are probably already taking heed. Medical personnel can spread information more quickly, providing more efficient treatments. In short, we know that we can survive. Hopefully, though, we do more than just survive...we help those, gay, straight, bi or asexual for all I care, to relieve the pain and find a cure, or at least a treatment.

Please take some time to read this article, it's very informative: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18086925

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Back in the Saddle

Time: 13:25
Location: The Red Stick

Well, it's back to the 'ole grind here in Baton Rouge. Classes have started up again, and while the majority of them seem interesting, you can rest assured that eventually I'll be up to my neck in assignments, papers, and student organization crap. No matter. For those of you who don't know, I'm a Anthropology/Sociology double major, so my classes aren't too hard. This also explains the general nature of my blog...I've read dozens upon dozens of accounts of culture or sociological theory, but when it comes to the Nation of Queeria the guidebook is hopelessly outdated (or it's never been written).

On that note, life is pretty dull. Dave, my crush, hasn't been talking to me as much lately, which I take to mean his roomates are back in the apartment and thus he has someone to talk to again. A former, how should I say this?......a former beau has been trying to hit me up again. For purposes of this blog, his name is Jason and I lost my virginity to him. This was a couple of months ago. Yes, I've been a virgin for 20 odd years, so sue me. I wished that things could have worked out between us, but the second time we did it I felt an emotion that could only be revulsion, and when you feel something that strongly it kind of takes the erection right out of you. I breathed a sigh of relief when he informed me that he now had a boyfriend (btw, total bitch move...he made sure to IM me all the time, "I'm with my boyfriend"), because it meant he could reject me and I could get away scott-free. Of course, they broke up after a month and now he's hounding me to come sleep with him. I've had to resort to blocking him on AIM.

So, to recap, I have a boy chasing after me that I don't want, a boy I'm chasing after who doesn't want me, a mouse infestation in the archaeology lab where I work, homework ALREADY, and student organization crap that's already got me in hot water. I think I'm getting saddle burn already.

P.S. Expect regular updates from now on. I'm also going to start pushing the advertising button, using a few tricks that I've got up my sleeve. A guy's gotta make a living.

The Truth About Fantasy

Time: 21:58
Location: The Sticks

When I was still in high school (aka when I was still WAY behind enemy lines), I would indulge my sexual appetite by playing out certain scenarios in my head. The boys of my high school would be repulsed, no doubt, to discover that they ALL a part of my twisted world where every boy was gay and indulged in sexual activites of varying degrees of homosexuality for my sheer amusement and pleasure. When I say all, I mean all: two grades above me and two grades below me. Keep in mind that there were less than a 100 people in my high school; that's the entire high school. The football jocks received their just desserts for any indiscretion towards me by playing out my tiniest fantasy. At the time, it wasn't about a sense of revenge. It was about survival.

Why are so many gay men creative? Is it some genetic, inherent trait, or do we, as a community, share this bond because of a share experience. Most, if not all, spend some portion of their life in the closet. I know of no one who popped out of the uterus belting out verses from Cher, but correct me if I'm wrong. Spending that time as a spy in the RoH taught me a valuable thing about my imagination: I needed it. There was no one sympathetic to Queeria's causes. No other gay boy to experiment with. Experimentation didn't come until college. To this day, I've only been out on two dates. I've never had a boyfriend. Why is this litany of woe important? It explains why I needed my imagination, my fantasies. It was the only way to express myself, even if it was only to myself. It was survival.

You read or hear stories about war veterans who were prisonsers of war, how they did what they had to in order to survive. They usually don't like to talk about it and are quick to change the subject unless pressed by a reporter or the blank page of a manuscript. You do what you have to do. I feel, in some small part, the same. And while I did what I had to do, I still retain a certain sense of embarassment and shame that I used the boys I knew the way I did. They may not realize it, but they led double lives. The life they lived in school and on the field and with friends and family, and the life that went on inside my head. Was I doing that on purpose? Bringing them to my "level", as it were? I don't think so...that sounds a little too Freudian to me, and if Ashley has taught me anything, it's that no psychologist takes much credit with Freud anymore.

I wonder, though. Did my exercises in imagination prove fruitful? Did I ever really hurt anyone? And, most importantly, didn't I deserve a little catharsis? The citizens of the Republic, especially those of the Male Party, may find no justice in my actions. But I think my fellows in Queeria would. I think, just maybe, it's a bond we share...maybe not the in depth sexual fantasies, but the use of our imaginations to survive for as long as we did amidst the enemy with no one to comfot us but ourselves.

After the BCS Bowl

Time: 14:24
Location: The Red Stick

I just returned from a two-day hiatus in New Orleans. Ashley was kind enough to open her home to us, so we drove in on Sunday night ot avoid the traffic and hung out on Monday until it was time to watch the game. After the Tigers won (and really, who thought they wouldn't?) we drifted on down to Bourbon Street.

It was about three or so hours into the night when Dave showed up. Confession: I am insanely attracted to Dave. Insanely. He has these great eyes and nice face and ok body...but what really drives me wild is the voice. It's deep and soft, and I just want to wrap myself in it like a comfy old blanket. The good news is, he's gay. The bad news is, he isn't attracted to me at all.

Is there anything worse? I look at Dave and I see potential boyfriend material, not just a quick hookup (although I wouldn't be opposed to that either!). But no matter how coy I play or how desperate I am, it doesn't matter. He is immune to my charms. And my drunken text messages. And my drunken AIM conversations. In a way, really, I almost feel bad for him. I've told him that I'm attracted to him. I've asked him out on a date. He knows this. But due to mutual friends, we still maintain contact with one another. The craziest thing is that at times it feels like we're ex-boyfriends and everybody is avoiding the pink elephant in the room.

The saddest part of this is that I feel to blame. I've tried. I've deleted his AIM screename from my buddy list, taken off his phone number from my cell, everything I could think. Then, shortly before the Bowl, he initiated contact again. And I was hooked.

Awkward feelings and a pounding headache don't do wonders for one's attitude, so Amanda and I left Bourbon around 3:30, which for, those of you who don't know, is early. Sometimes I think I should try to be straight; boys seem to be so much trouble. Then I listen to my girlfriends, and realize that women are crazy, as a species, and only a straight man would try to touch that with a ten foot pole.

The Cowardly Lion

I didn't come out to my parents as planned. A part was my own cowardice, another part was that it never felt like the right time. The right time. I should put that in quotations from now on. I have this fantasy running in my mind of a time when my parents and I are sitting at the dinner table, with the TV on in the other room, and we hear a news report about gays in the military or gays in the school systems or gays in Boy Scouts. My father and mother would comment, and before they could say anything too bad I would jump in and say: "Wait, Mom and Dad, before you say something you would later regret! I'm gay." They would stare flabbergasted, then both would burst into tears and hug me and offer me $1,000.00 in cash to spend at The Pub in New Orleans.

Right.

Enter the cowardice. There were several times throughout the alloted two days that I could have said, "Mom, Dad, can I talk to you two for a minute?" But I couldn't bring myself to do it. For one thing, it's hard to come out to your parents when they're watching an episode of Andy Griffith. It was Ashley who made me think of the Cowardly Lion, when she told me that I was making excuses. What gave the Cowardly Lion courage? It was when the Wizard gave him medals: evidence of his courage. It occurs to me that I have no evidence of courage. I have never done anything paticularly courageous. I wish they gave out medals for coming out, so I would know that I could get something out of it.

How materialistic is that? But, on some level, it's my reasoning. The result of the conversation is an unknown. What do I have after that's sure? The support of my friends? Hah. Will my friends help me pay my rent, my car note, my taxes, my groceries, my gas? I am being materialistic, but it's because I rely on my parents for all my materials. Taking stock, I've truly begun to realize just how extensive their support is, how much I gain to lose. I know that it's shallow, but it's a shallow world we live in. I'm a full-time college student trying to get into grad school.

There I go again, making excuses. I guess I'm just afraid to tell the truth. Jesus said the truth would set us free. But does it? I mean, look where it got him!

Maybe I've just gotten too comfortable behind enemy lines. It's not in the nature of a spy to reveal himself. Can diplomacy work? Can the enemy become the ally? I've never been good with words or social situations. Maybe my diplomacy isn't up to task.

For now, I'll just spend time with my friends. We're going to New Orleans for the BCS Bowl, and there's a boy. There always is. Until then....

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Coming Out Is The Hardest Part

When I came out to my friends, it was an ambush plotted by Drunk Me. He waited until I had had a half bottle of tequila in my system before unleashing the truth upon my friends. It was so bad, they didn't even know whether to mention it the day after for fear I wouldn't remember. But, Sober Me was happy, thankful even to Drunk Me. I had kept the secret inside me too long; secrets are like milk really, in that both have an expiring date. And I was way past due on mine.

I feel the same way today. I have the horrible and yet entirely too happpy that when my mom comes into the house today, I may quite literally give her a hug and say "I'm gay" before she even has time to put her purse down. I had planned to tell both my parents, sitting down at dinner, but I'm way too much of a coward for that. I've decided that it's going to be Drunk Me's way or the highway. Time to blurt out word-vomit. Maybe that's the only way. Just blurt out the truth and clean up after the word-vomit.

What is it that's so scary about coming out of the closet ot my parents, to parents in general? Of course part is the fear of rejection and of, for the first time, having to live on my own wihtou finanical help from my parents. But I think there's another side to it. I'm afriad that my parents won't react as parents. They will react as people. As people with opinions and prejudices. I've lived with my parents all my life. I haven't lived with two individual people. Kind of scary, to think about it that way.

Is telling them seperately the way to go? Probably not, but it's the only way a cowardly guy like me can do it. I've always found it easier to tell my mother something than my father. I have a deep respect for my father; if any of the pair will reject me, it's him. That's the hard truth. Which would kill me, of course. My mom will always love me and be on my side. I believe that. I suppose I also believe that mothers in general are more disposed to stick by their children's side. So, it may be cowardice, but it has to be done. If this is the way I'm going to do it, then it's the way I'm going to do it.

Wish me luck.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Is There Such a Thing As a Gay Banker?

Time: 16:19
Location: The Sticks

I'm still in exile in The Sticks. While here, I've been working at the local bank, answering the phones and stuffing envelopes. It's pretty boring stuff, really. But it's just a temp job. What's stranger to me is the fact that people do this kind of thing for a living. It just seems lke the women around me had to settle to do this job. Does anyone grow up wanting to be a banker?

Well, I don't know about growing up, but both my parents were Finance Majors. My sister was a finance major. My grandfather was CEO of a bank. Obviously, they chose these kinds of jobs. But I never could. I'm an Anthropology major myself; my greatest ambition, next to writing, is becoming a forensic anthropologist. A far cry from banking. But it wasn't until I was talking with Ashley that my sexuality even came up as a reason for my liberal art's degree.

"Sure, you hate it cause you're gay."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, have you ever heard of a gay banker?"

I haven't. Obviously, common sense says that out there, somewhere, there is a gay man who works in a bank. It's the same kind of sense that says there must be gay Republicans. It's just a matter of numbers. But you have to admit, gay men are often stereotyped as working in more liberal or creative settings. It's the natural assumption of the Broadway Theory. Basically, it goes like this: a lifetime of being repressed and anonymous and secretive (in the closet) results in an almost pathological need to assert your individuality and creativity in as much as a public space as possible (a Broadway stage).

The problem is, do we start to assume that we're better because we're in these kind of jobs? I think the answer is yes. Which doesn't make me very comfortable. Because when you start looking close enough, you see that isn't necessarily true. The ladies at the bank have to engage customers on an almost minute basis in a very social setting. The loan officers have to figure out creative ways to move their client's money or the bank's money to get the best deal possible. And none of them feel the need to assert their creativity...they let it come out naturally as part of their job.

Is there such a thing as a gay banker? I can only hope so.

Sincerely,
Your Spy

Out of the Closet, Into the Utility Room

Time: 21:26
Location: The Sticks

This is the week I come out to my parents. To be even more precise, this Thursday is the day I do it. I've been thinking a lot about my life as a gay man; it's funny, but I can't help but feel that I'm losing a part of me. I am losing the closeted gay man. What a lot of people don't get about closets is: they can be pretty comfortable. Many gay men live their lives in the kind of closets you see on MTV's Cribs. There is also an important disctinction to make between full disclosure, the closet, and the utility room. A person in the closet is in denial, even from himself or herself. A person who has fully disclosed their sexuality does not care who knows and does their best to make it public knowledge. The utility room is reserved for men like me. Men who share their sexuality with a close circle of friends or perhaps certain family members but doesn't wish to spread the knowledge to certain circles or peoples.

The utility room has been nice, but I suppose the time has come to explore the rest of the house. There's no denying that I'm nervous, maybe even scared. But this is the important thing to realize. I never, never, want to go back to being completelyh closeted. It seems like a waste to me, as though I have not been a whole person for most of my life. Maybe one day I will look back on this time and think the same thing. Ultimately, my line of thinking comes down to this: I am gay, it's not going to c hange, so I should alert my parents to this facet of my life. I can't lie or hold back the truth for ever. Part of loving someonse is being honest with them.

For now, I'll enjoy the quiet before the storm by sitting with my parents and watching the SEC show America why our football is different from your football....or so I'm told.

Sincerely,
Your Spy