I've been out for nearly 50 years. Out, but cautious. Out but alienated. Out but who really cares that much anymore?
The fragmentation bombs of identity mean we act out our oppression cards to our fellow "victims". We sometimes embody the drama and anger in our daily lives except for most of the time when we don't. We're too busy doing other things. Still, once a year we gay-marry our victimhood to our pride and let their offspring cavort in vivid hues of remembered oppression. The next day, not nearly so much.
Remembered victimhood is a dubious pleasure but we play it zealously if only because we're aging so fast we can't recall their narrative threads any longer. We're growing old in a rapidly fragmenting world. But on this one holy day, let's remember our years of martrydom and deliverance. There's simply not that much else to valorize except, perhaps, a liberated world imploding around our gaily-painted faces. Who knows? We might miss it someday.
I was thinking today, while my beloved of almost 40 years was downtown participating with the like it or not, community standard. I drove her there and spent a blissful day in my greenhouse and garden and a couple nice happy fathers day wishes from my boys. A perfect day.
I've been out for nearly 50 years. Out, but cautious. Out but alienated. Out but who really cares that much anymore?
The fragmentation bombs of identity mean we act out our oppression cards to our fellow "victims". We sometimes embody the drama and anger in our daily lives except for most of the time when we don't. We're too busy doing other things. Still, once a year we gay-marry our victimhood to our pride and let their offspring cavort in vivid hues of remembered oppression. The next day, not nearly so much.
Remembered victimhood is a dubious pleasure but we play it zealously if only because we're aging so fast we can't recall their narrative threads any longer. We're growing old in a rapidly fragmenting world. But on this one holy day, let's remember our years of martrydom and deliverance. There's simply not that much else to valorize except, perhaps, a liberated world imploding around our gaily-painted faces. Who knows? We might miss it someday.
I was thinking today, while my beloved of almost 40 years was downtown participating with the like it or not, community standard. I drove her there and spent a blissful day in my greenhouse and garden and a couple nice happy fathers day wishes from my boys. A perfect day.
Relax, man. the CDC has this shit covered:
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-10923921/How-SEX-monkeypox-Bizarre-CDC-guide-revealed.html
His tweets got him attention on Libs of Tik Tok. In case you missed it:
https://townhall.com/tipsheet/mattvespa/2022/06/18/busted-teacher-arrested-for-having-sex-with-13yearolds-at-lunch-and-recorded-the-activity-n2608944
And, undoubtedly, this will show them
https://twitter.com/libsoftiktok/status/1538541145675837441?cxt=HHwWgsClxafB_9kqAAAA
And, finally:
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2022/05/monkeypox-outbreak-spread-gay-bisexual-men/643122/
https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/2022/06/12/monkeypox-warning-gay-men/
As James Manwaring, James M. Cain, or Frank Fenton had Robert Mitchum say, "Baby I Don't Care."
I have had gay friends since high school and wish no person ill, but I have lost interest.
Looks like they designed the straight flag after a striped prison uniform.