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The Public Blogging of Pomosexuality, Homotextuality, Homophobiaphilia, and Drear Theory (aka Career Theory) [aka Gay4Pay]. We also read the Corner and OpJournal so the right buttock will be punished as well. All comments subject to publication. Or dismissal. Or Both.


Your Disciplinarians: Glenda Benda (Philapa), Amber Waves (Kansaster), Polly Morpheus (Dreamsville), Tess Tosterone (D'Urbervilles)



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Agenda Bender
Friday, August 16, 2002  
Andrew Sullivan has gotten so tangled in that hammock that La Paglia has taken over.

Andrew does make a mistake in his intro by calling Camille "inimitable". Like anyone with a singular voice and a distinctive style Camille is HIGHLY imitable. Less faltteringly, she makes parody a little too easy by so often quoting herself and by recycling certain key phrases in piece after piece.

But as a literary politician no doubt she's following the timeless wisdom of political consultants. Pick 4 or 5 issues, come up with two sentences on each, AND KEEP SAYING THEM. And only them if you can get away with it.

Of course Camille doesn't limit herself to a handful of prefab tags. She just inserts them in her pieces probably making the reasonable assumption that new people are always entering the room so recaps are a matter of politeness as well (though such courtesy has to balance with the interests of the ones already in the room). She's a teacher too, a profession that requires a tolerance for saying the same things to new faces.

I do think Camille falls into the Ayn Rand trap of weaving all her preferences, from whims to deathbed convictions, into her philosophy. With these two, liking somebody is always an act of moral or aesthetic courage. But sometimes a crush is just a crush. Just as bad moods and bad moons can breed bete noires that you will continue hating, all the while passionately rationalizing the hate, even after the bad moon sets.

5:21 PM

Wednesday, August 14, 2002
They take Visa, Mastercard and Paypal. But not Diner's Club. Yet.

So be a pal and buy a pair for something you love.

Bonus joke: Why are tight jeans like St Patrick's Cathedral? (The answer is somewhere in "Gravity's Rainbow" )

And here: No ballroom.

5:25 AM

We received an email from Kansas City which made one of us (Amber Waves if you must know) quite excited. Until it was explained that it was from Kansas City, Missouri not Max's Kansas City from which Amber sprung . It included a link to this page which has all the info on the next big Focus on Family "Love Won Out" conference. It's an ex-gay thing. Which got me thinking how much more embarassing it would be if your ma or pa was an out and proud ex-gay than if they were the more predictable boring gay parents.

Imagine you are a teenager and 4 weekends a year you have the house cause mom and dad are facilitating at the "Love Won Out" seminar in South Bend or Galveston. (Maybe thay don't use "seminar", that word could make a dude lose focus.) Wouldn't it be easier to explain if they were just at the gay pride parade once a year in Sydney or something? Especially since ex-gays do seem to marry each other. I mean if dad switches sides when you are 15 it's gotta be rough but imagine being 15 and explaining to your friends "well dad was a fag and mom was a dagger, but they got over it and had me".

MTV had a great "True Life" episode a few weeks ago about embarassing parents. One kid's folks ran a Palm Springs nudist retreat, another dad was an almost-was-somebody-musician who couldn't get out of the spotlight, and the last kid's dad was a 40 year old Jedi Knight who did the Star Wars costume pageant circuit. I think there might be a fate worse than theirs though.

Oh, and check out this comment from a happy non-camper who attended a previous "Love Won Out" confab (hmmmm fab might bring back bad memories too):

"My husband and I are both public school teachers and will use this information to confront homosexuality within our school."

Go vouchers!

4:13 AM

Monday, August 12, 2002
Over at The Closet Rod Dreher (rhymes with gayer--I hope anyway) continues to post every anti-gay tidbit his eagle eyes espy.

Today we learn of "a devastating story about how O'Donnell has turned Rosie magazine into her own personal playground. For example, she has promoted her gay lover's family in several major features (her "sister-in-law's" wedding, her "mother-in-law's" home decorating), and tried to impose her journalistically questionable will on the magazine (e.g., trying to put transvestite has-been Boy George on the cover of a publication intended for middle America)."

That "devastating" is too gay even for me. How could any story about Rosie O.D. anytime, anywhere be devastating to any but the most besotted straggler in the Rosie Posse?

And funny how the "devastating" details make "Rosie" the mag sound like the National Review in its golden age. Bill Buckley's friends and relations were all over the rag. As writers, editors and as the subjects of fawning profiles. Maybe Rosie's been studying the back numbers of NR for inspiration.

As for the meddlesome dyke's taste in cover birls/goys, Garcon George might be something of a has been on the charts but even in his decline he can get more people into an arena to watch him sing his hits of 15 years ago than the collected starpower of the Corner could get into a hall for a tagteam lecture. Naked. And these would be arenas in "middle America" a place where he sold many millions of records. Records that had his grinning kabuki drag mug all over them.

Not sure that George's face would move many mags today but once upon a time in America it did. Most Americans can appreciate a funny, honest guy in a hassidic hat and a dowager's housecoat made up to look like a corpse in a Tokyo cat house. It's what makes them Americans. And what makes Rod the eternal hall monitor clucking in The Corner enforcing the dress code. George earns their amused respect and Rod their patriotic mocking.

6:52 PM

There's some amusing followup to the post I wrote on August 2 about the blogger who despised the airport security bureaucracy but seemed even more offended by the queenie luggage clerk.

Turns out it never even crossed his mind that the sissy might be gay! His comments again:

"Here's a quote from the effete little man who took our bags: he didn't say "I apologize for the confusion," or "sorry we didn't separate people who are on the earlier flight," but instead, "I have to put up with this every day." How difficult for you, Emile, or Jamey, or whatever girly little name you go by. Tell the other girls at the hair salon about it."

Speaking of hair salons how's this for blow drying?

"Others of you took issue with my characterization of the snippy little ticket counter clerk. Specifically, you thought I was making fun of him for being gay. I find this curious, because until I read your comments, it hadn't occurred to me that he might be gay. He acted like a girl, he had poofy hair, and he needed a good hard slap. But I don't equate these traits with homosexuality. Do you? It amuses me when the self-appointed apostles of sensitivity get snared in their narrow-minded conceptualizations of people. For the record, when I ridicule men who behave like sissies, it's because I don't like men who behave like sissies. The fact that you've equated girly with gay would appear to be your problem, not mine.
But thanks for reading. Kisses."

Denial? You're a stuffed pharaoh on a royal barge sinking in the middle of it.

There's some interesting response to his retort. I liked this one best:

"It's a noble lie to believe a poofy haired sissy at an airport could easily be straight. The gay men you know must all be soldiers. You are just feeling a twinge of regret. You knew he was gay and you cussed his girly manners."

"Homophobia doesn't make you a bad person. Like every other phobia it is an uncontrollable feeling of disgust or fear. Sissy boys, or the sight of two guys kissing, give you the willies. Fine, I don't like spiders - I have to leave the room when I see one. My reaction doesn’t offend spiders. Gay men do get offended when they notice your fear/disgust. You have to make an effort to hide your contempt for unmanly males (who probably aren't aware of how girly they are). You don't have the option of squishing them with your foot."

Of course then some keen intellect blasted the comment above as implying that lying was noble. But still I think this readers reply forum gives a pretty good sample of the battle between the sexprefs. Only one person really showed any open hatred. The rest either joined in the noble lie (I've met many gay lumberjacks and some of my best friends are homosexual football coaches so it never would have crossed my mind that the little, high-haired, lisping airline employee was gay), and/or transfered their animus to the WORD "homophobia".

A word which, by the way, wasn't used by me or the any of other people who originally criticized the description of the effete, girly, hairdresser wannabe.

Straighter conservatives may not be very well tuned in to anti-gay prejudice but they are like nuclear powered bionic bats in their ability to hear the word "homophobia" whispered behind closed doors in a building far across town.

11:51 AM