Capris, Part Deux

This photo was placed anonymously in my box at work today. This clearly indicates a vendetta.

Capris. Gay? Unfashionable?

Today it's expected to reach 85 degrees in Minneapolis, which means I'm breaking out the capris!

Are they faggy? I don't care! I love them! I love the fresh air tickling my calves, which are so much sexier than my thighs. My thighs look like sows sleeping in the field. My calves are tight cheetahs. Capris make me think of Greece. Walking to the bus, it's like I'm in sandals sipping a mai thai. It's summer in Minneapolis, folks.

Question of the day. Capris. Gay? Unfashionable?

Bamboo Floral Capris at Marshall Fields!

When you take to the field this summer with your gay softball team, make sure you are fashionable first. Consult Outsports.

Be a slag! Capris make you more attractive to Essex boys.

Homosexuality, religion, and state definitions of marriage

[Editor's note: I submitted this editorial to the MN Daily a few weeks ago, when the state senate was debating the anti-gay marriage amendment. The Daily chose not to publish it, so I thought I'd post it on here instead.]

The proposal to amend the state’s constitution to forbid gay people the right to marry is a vitriolic piece of legislation that imposes the rational of a minority upon the will of the majority. A just society allows space for all citizens, whatever their stripe, to co-exist equally. The amendment is an assault upon this expectation of equality that serves as a foundation of Minnesota’s society.

I ask the people of Minnesota when contemplating the issue to separate within their minds the legal definition of marriage (a collection of rules, benefits, and responsibilities the state confers upon two people), and marriage defined by a specific religion. The two definitions are not the same.

They are similar. But while the first laws of the United States and Minnesota have been influenced by religion, those opposed to gay marriage for religious reasons need to realize that not everyone believes the Bible is the word of God today. I for one don’t. I believe the Bible is a book written by humans several thousand years ago that contains some good ideas, but I don’t believe the Bible is infallible, and I don’t think its influence should unduly cast a shadow over the legislative process today.

Fundamentalists fail to recognize a fact of American society—a good number of upstanding Americans don’t recognize the Bible as the word of God, do not seek a personal relationship with Jesus, and do not seek forgiveness from God for being gay, having sex before marriage, or having an abortion. Fundamentalists nonetheless see it as their obligation to impose their beliefs on a populace that doesn’t always share them. Such convictions are better turned inward. The belief that the Bible rules how one should live his or her life might be appropriate for structuring a congregation, but it has no place in a secular society made up of Christians, non-Christians, and atheists, where church is separate from state.

Opponents of gay marriage see the issue in Minnesota as a homosexual minority imposing their definition of marriage on the majority of Minnesotans. The truth is actually that fundamentalists are imposing their definitions of marriage on everyone. Gay people want the right to marry in order to receive the full range of benefits (and responsibilities) accorded to marriage by the law. They are seeking to redefine how they are viewed by the state, which does not infringe upon a religious definition of marriage.

Changing the laws regarding marriage is nothing new. Marriage in the legal sense has constantly been redefined. Laws permitting interracial marriage (those opposed to whites marrying blacks consistently cited the Bible in their arguments), laws that protect women from being treated as property within a marriage, and laws that legalize divorce have all changed the legalities of marriage, and have often happened despite vociferous religious opposition. Allowing gay people to marry will not change heterosexual marriages. It won’t damage families, it won’t harm children, it won’t encroach upon religions’ rights to define marriages their way, and unfortunately it won’t do anything to curb the spectacularly high rate of divorce among heterosexuals.

The root of the argument against gay marriage is the false assumption that the legal definition of marriage and a Christian definition of marriage are one and the same. Though Christian ideals might have influenced the formation of marriage rules (as they influenced laws against interracial marriage), it is a mistake to occlude the two. There is a plurality of religions in Minnesota; some marry gays, some do not, and the differences do not end there. Conferring marriage rights on homosexuals does not encroach upon these religious definitions of marriage, whose borders remain patrolled by clergy, congregation, and Biblical interpretation.

The amendment to the state constitution to ban gay marriage is an attempt by a religious minority to impose Biblical platitudes on a system that is there to serve everyone equally—Christian, non-Christian, and atheist; gay and straight. The issue is about civil rights for gays and lesbians. Since it doesn’t infringe upon a religious definition of marriage, the issue shouldn’t be mired down by Christian morality, either.

Good advice for ex-gays

Ah...a new week begins. Let's forget all the bitterness of the past few days by taking heed of some sage advice from the venerable Aunt Ida. It's almost like she's speaking directly to Wallen and all the other ex-gays, isn't it?

Have you met any nice boys in the salon? I mean any nice queer boys. Do you fool with any of them? All those beauticians and you don’t have any boy dates? Oh honey, I’d be so happy if you turned nelly…queers are just better. I’d be so proud if you was a fag and had a nice beautician boyfriend. I’d never have to worry! I worry that you’ll work in an office! Have children! Celebrate wedding anniversaries! The world of heterosexuals is a sick and boring life! Ah, let me bleach your hair…

[Aunt Ida on the dangers of heterosexuality]

Wallen responds

[Editor's note: after writing my response to Wallen's MN Daily testimonial, "I was gay until Christ set me straight", I sent my post to several friends, fellow bloggers, and Wallen himself. Wallen wrote back. Apparently he didn't actually read what I had to say. What the heck is a bondservant?]

Hey Jason,

Thank you for your encouragement, support, and uplifting. It's all for Christ and for His glory to be manifest on this campus. I will continue to speak truth and the way Christ has taught me to speak the truth is through my testimony and through the way He alone satisfies and brings that long lost love. I pray that my testimony touches the hearts of the lost and draws them closer to Jesus and for those who already know the Lord, that it inspires them to share in love through grace and faith their testimonies with all that don't know Christ.

Thank you again and may God bless you in all you do.

Take Care & God Bless,
With Love in Christ,
Your Bondservant & Brother in Christ,
Michael David Wallen

'I was gay until Christ set me [kinda] straight'

The editorial page of the University of Minnesota's campus newspaper, The Minnesota Daily, has lately had to fall back on meaningless platitudes in order to better 'represent' the many 'voices' on campus and create 'controversy' and 'dialogue' among the university 'community'. From articles advocating wiping Fallujah off the map to sermons that use Bible passages as the rational for hating the hell-bent, the editorial page has become the funniest read in town.

Today, for example, we have a little personal essay by Michael David Wallen: "I was gay until Christ set me straight". Kinda straight, Michael. You say so yourself: "I have struggled. I've slipped up." But hey, it's tough. I guess not even God's love is infallible.

Wallen, who works for the University’s athletics department [ahh-huhhhh…], has found refuge from his damaging homosexual lifestyle in religion. His testimonial is similar to most of the other 'ex-gay' testimonials I've read from those who supplant rabid evangelical faith in place of sexuality. These testimonials often cite the poor lives these men and women lived as gays as essential components of homosexuality itself. Wallen messed around with other guys while young, and hints at a life of promiscuity. "I gave myself away in the hopes that I would find the love I was missing in my life. I never did find that love." Wallen indicates he was picked on by his peers, beaten up. It's a difficult situation many gays and lesbians find themselves in -- it's not easy being gay, because it makes you a target for the ire of certain parts of society.

But whose fault is this? Wallen thinks it's his own -- or not his own exactly, but the fault of his homosexuality. That's what made him unhappy. His homosexuality is to blame for the beatings and ostracism. Absent from Wallen's testimonial (and from all the other testimonials I've read from 'ex-gays') is any sort of social critique. Wallen never interrogates the actions of his peers. Were they wrong to tease him for being gay? Were they at fault for beating him up? Did Wallen deserve to be beaten? If Wallen was promiscuous, and if that promiscuity created a void in his life, is that the fault of his orientation? Maybe he shouldn't have given himself away so readily and/or so often. There's nothing inherently promiscuous about being gay or lesbian; I know many gay people who aren't promiscuous, and I know many straight people who are promiscuous. Every gay person I know believes that gay relationships have meaning, and many straight people I know admit that promiscuous heterosexual relationships can be void of meaning. To say that Wallen failed to find love in these relationships because of the genders and sexuality of the people involved is ridiculous, and actually assumes an essentialism to gender and sexuality that Wallen denies by claiming he can go 'straight.' It's a contradiction Wallen fails to resolve. But that's the great thing about fundamentalist arguments that rely on the Bible and mutable definitions of love and identity -- you never have to resolve your contradictions.

Wallen could have accepted his homosexuality as a unique and integral part of himself, as immutable as his eye color and as important and beautiful as the many gifts I'm sure he possesses. When that part of him butts up against an unaccepting and cruel society, a critique would reveal that often the fault does not lie in him. That Wallen instead chose to attack a benign part of himself -- his sexuality -- reveals instead the anxieties, confusion, and self-loathing that can boil away inside someone when they discover an aspect about themselves that bothers them. Focusing on the speck in his own eye instead of the plank in society’s is a mistake Wallen shouldn’t have made.

Life hasn't been easy for me, either. As a gay man I've faced the confusion and ignorance of family and friends. I've found myself deeply unsatisfied with the dominant gay culture of bars and consumerism. I've had homophobic comments lobbed at me from the street. I suppose it was easier for me to pin the blame where it rightfully belongs. I was able to crawl out from under the ideological rock of fundamentalist religion that assumes the individual is selfish and inherently sinful and destructive, and thus needs God to be complete or good or worthy. Eventually, I came to realize the fault was not in myself. My homosexuality is not the cause of society's ills.

I wish Wallen had made a different choice – instead of recognizing that the faults lie in society rather than himself, he’s tried to scour away a benign part of his identity that will always be there. The fix hasn’t been perfect, by his own admission. Wallen's essay ends with the tired old platitude you hear over and over from the ex-gays: Homosexuality is a choice. Not exactly. Homosexuality is an integral part of who we are. We choose how we interpret that. Every one of us, gay and straight, find aspects of ourselves contradicting with the 'ideals' of family or society. How we resolve those contradictions is the choice that we have.

Elijah Wood: Gay

Every time I run into another poor sap who doesn't think that Elijah Wood is a fag, I'm utterly astonished. How could anyone think anything else with the evidence at hand. Okay. So. Here we go. For those of you who haven't been paying attention ... Elijah wood = gay. Where's my evidence? Well...okay, it's scant at best. But a multitude of whispers begets a chorus, I always say. When there's megabytes of posts about the subject on Data Lounge, you know something's up. Elijah Wood is the Chernobyl of gaydars--anyone with even a rudimentary sense of the aesthetics of queerdom can't help but find their geiger counters going off the mark when that diminutive little hobbit struts on to the Tonight Show or grapples with his cast mates on the red carpet like some junior high kid on the jungle gym. Seriously, the boy is gayer than dad's old hat band. The evidence is out there; the only questions are what did we know and when did we know it?

I understand that my charge is a harsh one. There are a lot of fangurlz on ritalin out there who attack with lacquered claws anyone who dares to question their love-object. An infamous website, Elijah Wood is Very, Very Gay, became such not because it has evidence of Elijah's homosexuality, but because it drew the ire of Tiger Beat's target market. The website offers little in the way of evidence--Elijah's gay because he wears a messenger bag and allows himself to be photographed juxtaposed with feathers. The funniest parts of the site are the flame letters, presumably from adorably anorexic pre-teen chix incensed that someone has trampled on their late-night Elijah Wood make-out fantasies. Here's one from "Megan":

Your site is a bunch of BS! The "conclusions" you make are absolutely, completely ridiculous and full of it. There is no way that Elijah Wood is gay. Numerous times Elijah has talked about and been seen with girlfriends. I don't care if your site is a "parody" and is just a way to make fun of how people jump to stupid conclusions. People are stupid and will believe any crap they see or read. I don't think it's fair that you have this site, because people will actually believe it when it isn't true! How would you like it if you were straight and someone spread stupid rumors about how they concluded you were gay? It's like those stupid high school websites where people spread mean rumors about each other. It's cruel, shallow, immature, and in my opinion not humorous at all. Oh, and I hope you appreciate my correct spelling of words and correctness of grammar.

I actually feel sorry for these gurlz. Throughout history, iconic heartthrobs always end up bent. From James Dean and Tab Hunter, to Elijah Wood, Clay Aiken, and Ricky Martin, somehow, being adored by so many gurlz makes you gay. Perhaps such star-worship releases psychic rays, that, in the massive quantities that heartthrobs attract, somehow alter the chemical make-up of their brains. Or, maybe it's just the fact that you have to suck so much cock in order to get anywhere in the 'biz' [or so I've heard!].

Let's face it, Elijah's a fag. In 2003, the Data Lounge threads were parsing every single shred of evidence, and indeed, through the twisted bifocals of this bitter koffee klatch, the evidence seemed insurmountable. The general consensus among these venerable gossip queens who have nothing better to do all day was that Elijah and Dominic Monaghan [who played Merry in Lord of the Rings] were a couple. It began with an apparent incident at a gay bar in West Hollywood. According to Star Magazine, a fan had snapped a photo of Elijah and a male pal [unidentified] at the unnamed gay watering hole...

A source said: "Elijah ran after the guy. He was screaming. When he finally caught him, Elijah insisted that the picture be destroyed. The fan looked scared. He didn`t realize it would be such a big deal to snap Elijah Wood in a gay bar."

Soon it would be rumored that Elijah and Dom had moved in to a house together somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. In a 2003 article, Metafilter attempted to sum up the evidence by linking to a particular page on the highly-regarded hobbit fan page, The Bag End Inn [my particular source for juicy hobbit gossip and wank photos]. However, that dossier has mysteriously been removed. Google's cache didn't have the page, but luckily, the trusty Internet Archive came to my rescue. So what does the mysterious page tell us about Elijah's sexuality? Oh, that Dom wears Elijah's ties out in public, Elijah wears a certain ring to certain public engagements, and Elijah talks as though he has had intimate relations but also admits he's never brought a girl home. Summing up the evidence thusly, Data Lounge poster MsA concludes:

*Dom and Elijah wear blue and grey at the NY premiere, and at other premieres are also in coordinated colors:
Paris: Silver and Gold
LA: Brown and White (coffee and cream)
NZ: Black and White, plus Dom's wearing the tie Elijah wore on Leno
*Elijah wears a spanking new gold ring all over the press tour and flashes it everywhere.
*Elijah does an MSN chat where he talks about how lovely it is to be tactile and wake up next to someone. Yet, curiously, in several interviews he also says he's never brought a girl home.
*At the New York premiere, we're treated to a lovely, closed-eyes hug between them.
*On the tail end of the Starz special, we're treated to a lovely shot of Dom kissing Elijah's hand, and then warmly embracing the giggling little maniac.
*At the LA premiere, Dom tickles Elijah's sides and then they have another warm, juicy hug.
*On his MTV2 gig, Elijah dedicates the song "No One Knows" to Dom. He doesn't dedicate any songs to anyone else.
*On Leno, Elijah says he spent all of his time in his hotel room. When asked if "she" was hot, he smirked and agreed that "she" was. He then went on to comment approvingly on humping monkeys.
*Elijah says he's a fruit on Caroline Rhea before having an "oh shit" moment and backtracking. The two then go on to have hysterical giggles about teen mags trumpeting his supposed single status
*Elijah talks about sleeping in Dom's trailer
*And Elijah says the hobbits make sweet love together.

Recently, Elijah's been appearing the New York press [I believe he's just bought a condo there with his sister?!?!]. The blind items appearing in the daily rags suggest that Elijah and Dom might be 'just friends' right now. According to Gawker He's making out with men in elevators and hitting on journalists.

Oh geez. Listen to me. I sound like one of those dishy queens who used to sit outside Cafe Zev in Loring Park and make fun of my hair when I walked past. Can you imagine me sitting here at my computer, breathlessly gushing over blind items and rumors, fanning myself, searching the desk of my drawer for my handy vial of vapors? I am doing just that! Is there a part of me that wants Elijah Wood to be gay [and can I have it removed?]?. No, that can't be. It's Brian whose fantasies of Elijah-sex border on disturbing, who dreams Elijah is Lord of his Ring. I'm above base star-worship!

Perhaps gossip about Elijah's homosexuality is just another aspect of star-worship, a constellation of behaviors that translate and express the fantasies of the anonymous fan. Perhaps Data Lounge gossip threads about Elijah and Dom aren't that different form the erotic slash fiction written on the web with summaries such as, "Dom and Elijah watch a movie. And do other hot, sexy, homoerotic things." One in particular imagines them falling into bed together after an uproarious fancy dress party:

Dom had moved his attention to the baggy pants, loosing the belt and pulling the offending trousers down over Elijah's buttocks and thighs. He paused to savour, as he always had to, the smooth skin revealed. Elijah reached up pitifully to catch Dom for more kissing, but Dom had moved on. He unceremoniously flipped him over onto his stomach and peeled down Elijah's boxers.

Whether or not Dom is rough with Elijah in bed, and whether or not Elijah likes to be roughed up, I have a feeling Elijah will eventually come out, disappointing another generation of gurlz to move to 1) another twinky star or 2) real life. But until he does, we'll just have to speculate ... But in the meantime, is he really fooling anyone by dancing like this???

........................
See also:

Gawker: Lord of the Rumors I
Gawker: Lord of the Rumors II
The Bag End Inn
City Pages: The Secret Lives of Hobbits

Easter Weekend in Duluth

Friday, 4:00 pm Get picked up distant childhood friend and her son for two and a half hour drive north to French River.

5:30-6:30 pm Spend an hour with cute 6-year-old son constructing a race track in the backseat for little micromachine cars to race around on. Also, count PT Cruisers and VW Bugs.

8:00 pm Arrive home. Within ten minutes of walking in the door, am informed by mom again that my hair is falling out and that I am too skinny. Too, too skinny. I must be anorexic. Pet dog. Talk to sister, tease sister. Eat sugar cookies. Discover that my sister has bought Playstation and Grand Theft Auto III. Discover new appreciation for sister.

10:30 pm Fall asleep to the sounds of explosions as my sister spreads virutal mayhem.

.....

Saturday, 9:30 am Wake up, drink weak coffee, read pathetic local newspaper with frightening Letters to the Editor section filled with rants against the homosexual agenda, abortionists, and Democrats. Try to convince dad that Rush Limbaugh is not The Leader.

10:30 am Head to the Mall with mom and sister. On the way, talk about the deer out and about and how dangerous it is to drive. Listen to mom debate with herself the possibility that a corpse on the highway is a dog or a wolf.

11:00 am Arrive at the old duplex at 16 N 16th Ave. E. [Note: When I was growing up, this house was a very special place for me. My Aunt Julie and her daughter Elizabeth lived downstairs, and my Aunt June lived upstairs. Referred to collectively as The Sisters, they provided a magical escape for young country bumpkin Jason bored off his ass in the middle of nowhere each summer. I'd stay with Aunt June who had cable(!) and do fun things with my Aunt Julie like ride the bus downtown and go sit in on court cases. We'd visit the library, eat at Old Country Buffet, drive out to Park Point for picnics, rollerblade on the Lakewalk, and play in the sprinklers in the backyard. She always wears mis-matched purple. She is wonderful. Last winter my cousin Elizabeth passed away, and Aunt Julie, who's in her late 70s, decided she wanted to go to a nursing home. In early december, Aunt June was living there by myself, and my sister and mom had converted the upstairs into an apartment for them to escape to when they sick of the country. Then my Aunt June fell ill. She had cancer, and it took her quickly. She passed away in January. My mom is settling the estate, which means clearing out the house and selling everything.] Look around at all the stuff that mom's selling on the weekends by putting up signs on Superior Street and having impromptu rummage sales. Pick up a couple of wooden bowls. See nothing that reminds me of Aunt June. Feel sad that all the chairs they used to sit in now have price tags on them.

12:00 Go to Walmart, which is packed with large Midwesterners going crazy over cheap Easter candy. Fall ill with a headache somewhere between the $1.50 African violets and the $9.99 DVDs. Am told by my mom that for this price, she can just toss out the violets when they stop blooming. Promise myself again that I will never buy something from Walmart. Reluctantly accept a giant bundle of toilet paper though from mom.

2:00 pm Head home from Mall. Stop at Coffee Cabin, per mom's request, a new quaint little coffee shack by the Sunset Lounge off the Rice Lake Road. "Marcy goes there to read," am informed by mom. When asked what she'll order, mom replies, "I really enjoy Chia teas. I think I am going to have a raspberry Chia tea. Laff heartily at quaint proclivities of the provincial.

3:00 pm Play Grand Theft Auto III. Joined by mom. Rather than objecting to the gratuitous gore and violence, laughs when I mow down a sidewalk full of pedestrians while driving a smashed-up bus.

4:00 pm Color easter eggs. Try some Martha Stewart recipe mom cut out of a magazine that involves olive oil. Mom posits the following question: "Do you think Martha is coloring eggs in jail right now?" Create giant mess and stinky eggs. Unanimously decide that Martha deserves to be in jail for as long as possible.

5:00 pm Drive mom and dad to Red Lobster for dinner. Listen to them debate whether carcass on the highway is a dog or a wolf.

7:00 pm On way home from Red Lobster, determine that carcass is indeed a wolf.

8:00 - 10:00 pm Play Grand Theft Auto III because everyone's gone to bed before the evening news. Attempt reading a book of poetry. Throw it down in disgust. Continue playing violent video games.

...

Sunday, 9:30 am Wake up, drink weak coffee, listen to mom yell at Vicky, our poor lab, for being fat and having stinky breath, and letting out stinky farts from the dog treats I've been feeding her.

11:00 am Ryan arrives. Distant, guarded hello's all around. Mom and Kristy play double solitaire, Ryan and Dad do the crossword puzzle. I walk around nervously, sugared up from the ten pounds of cookies, candies, and ting-a-lings consumed in the past 36 hours. Before dinner, taken aside by mom, who wants to show me something. Am lead into the spare bedroom. "Look what I keep right beside your old yearbooks!" mom says, hauling out a plain white box. Putting the box in my hands she says, "It's your Aunt June!" The box is heavy. "Your Uncle Chuck is trying to contact her to find out what she wants us to do with them. We haven't heard anything from her yet. But he'll keep trying." Both agree that what I am holding is not Aunt June.

12:00 Dinner is served: ham, [note: no water added, I'll have you know!] mashed potatoes, homemade coleslaw, relish tray, warm buns, 2% milk. General consensus that Aunt June's "orange jello dessert" is missed.

12:30 Dinner is finished. Wait around for ride home while mom packs up bag after bag of leftovers, toilet paper, croutons, laundry detergent, a bottle of Fleishman's whiskey found in Aunt June's apartment, furniture polish, pillows, cookies, candy, loaves of bread, and green peppers. Despite my protestations, bags continue to materialize beside the front door.

4:45 pm Arrive in Uptown. Unpack. Brew up a pot of strong coffee.