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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in Gay Pride

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 FIREWORKS in North East - North East Chamber of Commerce

A Pride Moment

 

There was once a woman who had three sons, each more handsome than the next.

It sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale, doesn't it? In fact, it's a true story, and one of my favorite Pride moments: up there, in fact, with my first dorm-room kiss from my first boyfriend.

 

Scene: The community Beltane Pancake Breakfast.

(I live in Paganistan; things like that happen here.)

I'm sitting at a table, talking with the woman with three beautiful sons. Across the table from us, her youngest sits in his boyfriend's lap. They're kissing.

The room is filled with festive pagans. No one even notices the passionate same-sex lip-lock.

A bubble of happiness expands to fill my chest. “I've worked my entire life to get us to a place where two boys can make out in a crowded room, and no one so much as blinks an eye,” I think. “And here we finally are.”

Of course, in the gold of the human heart, there are no unalloyed emotions.

Oh, that lucky, lucky boyfriend.

 

Out of the blue one night I get a call from my first boyfriend. We haven't spoken since our explosive break-up decades before.

(A convert to Catholicism, who would eventually enter the priesthood, he told me once, “I love you more than I love God,” and then promptly freaked, because it was true. Poor benighted Christian, it never occurred to him that one best does the one precisely by doing the other.)

As we reminisce about our times together, he confirms something that I had long thought I remembered about that very first wine-fueled kiss.

There really were fireworks going off in that room that night.

He saw them too.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 

 Fire Island (2022) - IMDb

Not a Review of Kim Joel Booster's Fire Island

 

I am pagan. Therefore, I support the right to discriminate

As pagans, we understand the importance—not just the importance, but the value and, in fact, the cultural necessity—of any given self-selected group's right to exclude non-members while associating freely within itself: with the necessary proviso, of course, that such a right cannot be universal, but always (by necessity) time- and place-bound.

If this is so, then Kim Joel Booster's Fire Island may well be the most pagan movie of the summer.

 

Can't stand feel-good movies. Don't like rom-coms, especially gay ones. No big fan of Jane Austen, whom I really can't help but suspect would, if she weren't a woman, be read today only by English Lit grad students.

Here's what I really liked about this summer's gay feel-good rom-com, the newest iteration of the Pride and Prejudice franchise, though: with the exception of one nightmarish flashback scene, there are no straight people in the film. None.

A group of gay friends go to Gay Island for one last dizzying swirl of what passes for gay male “culture”, in all its shallow, abs-obsessed dysfunctionality.

Gods: how incredibly refreshing.

One lesbian. (Margaret Cho's character, though, is anything but token.) No straight characters. No (current media darlings that they are) trans characters. Not even any bisexuals. Just men for men telling our own story, for a change, with lots of gratuitous nudity, sex, and good-looking guys.

The Horned One be praised.

Not that I have nothing against trans folk, straight folk, or lesbians, mind you. Those stories, too, I value. It's just that everyone deserves a chance to talk about themselves every now and then. Enough about you: let's (finally) talk about me for a change, OK?

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 Sexual Content

 

The Marinos Poems

Three Lost Epigrams from Book Twelve of the Greek Anthology


I

You turned down Marinos?

Marinos the Golden, heart-throb of Athens,

muse to ten thousand epigrams, this one included?

Well, Daphne fled from Apollo, they say,

gayest of gods, for whom boys dance naked.

More the fool her.

 

II

"Bet you a blow job," said Marinos.

Now that's what I call unfair.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 

 

Convenience is no excuse.

Goodbye, LGBTQIA+.

I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you.

 

The ugly, unpronounceable, ever-expanding, increasingly-meaningless-in-its-generality ("Allies"? Seriously?) alphabet monster deserves to die with a stake through its heart.

I hate that it 'disappears' gay men, reducing us to one letter in an impenetrable line-up.

I hate that it makes it easy to generalize about a population of sexual and gender minorities who—quite frankly—often have very little in common with one another except for the fact that other people hate us.

I hate that it gives everyone else credit for the triumphs, tragedies, and accomplishments of gay men.

 

Back at the beginning of covid, a screamer walked onto a subway car in New York, and started, at the top of his lungs, blaming—as the radio interviewer euphemistically put it—'the LGBTQ community' for the pandemic.

But we all know that that wasn't what the screamer really said, of course. We also know that he wasn't blaming lesbians, or transsexuals, or the intersex, for covid.

He was blaming fags.

As gay men, we bear a outsized burden of cultural hatred. Reducing us to one letter among many negates our story.

I'm all for solidarity, but not at the expense of identity.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Mr. Posch, Yeah, I was aiming for hyperbole. It popped into my head that in the Epic of Gilgamesh, five different Sumerian deitie
  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch says #
    Five?!
  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Mr. Posch, Thanks for your insight. My personal favorite Scrabble combination for those letters is, "QUILTBAG". I 100% support th

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Daughter of Two Fathers

It must be the oldest gay joke in the world.

Q: Is it possible for two men to have a baby together?

A: Theoretically no, but they sure do keep trying!

But for gods, now: well, that's another matter.

***

Earth's two Husbands, Sun and Thunder, have been together (so far as we know) nearly forever. You could say they're an unlikely couple. You could say they're well matched. Whichever it be, they're very different from one another.

Sun is hot and dry. He comes from the east, and he's always going west. Steady, predictable, he's all about the rational.

Thunder, now? Cool, wet, comes from the west, always going east. Volatile, unpredictable: with him, it's all about emotion.

Theirs is an explosive relationship: with all their differences, how could it not be? Oh, the fights. But, in the end, they always make it up.

They have a daughter together, born of their love: Rainbow, gentlest of goddesses. To see her is to love her, she's that beautiful.

In these latter days, they've named her the patron of same-sex love. Well, how could she not be?

After all, she has two fathers.

***

These days, Twin Cities Pride is a matter of corporate sponsorship and hundreds of thousands, but back then it was just a few hundred of us, marching down Hennepin Avenue.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Dreaming Little Stevie

In the dream, I'm in a roadside museum, looking at exhibits. At first, I'm the only one there.

Then the door opens, and a couple comes in with their way-gay teen son, waving hands and all.

“Gods, kid,” I think. “Tone it down.”

I listen—I can't help but listen—as he enthuses rapturously over the exhibits. I start to watch. He's no great beauty, but he's got that freshness of young things. He's smart and funny, rather appealing, really.

Suddenly he's there beside me, standing a little too close, and we're leaning together over the same case. He comments perceptively on what we're looking at. We talk. Our talk never turns personal, but I have a realization.

“I really like this kid,” I think.

From the door his parents call.

“Come on, Stevie, time to go.”

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Die Now

“Die now!” chanted the crowd as Diagóras of Rhodes circled the stadium. They meant it as a compliment.

Olympia, 448 BCE. Two of Diagóras' sons had just received Olympic crowns. "Die now!" chanted the crowd as his sons raised him to their shoulders and bore him aloft.

Meaning: you might as well die now; you're never going to get any happier than this.

 

In my long and rich life, I've been fortunate enough to have several “Die now!” moments.

Here's one.

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Recent comment in this post - Show all comments
  • Haley
    Haley says #
    This is a beautiful thing.

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