Only in Dystopia
Bullies must be faced down; they must get their asses kicked and taught humility, in order that their reign of terror may cease.
I have little to say about the Supreme Court gaying out on marriage last week, as we all knew that they would sooner or later.
Like Jack Donovan, I find the entire issue a farce, little worth additional commentary. I hold it to be self-evident that the very notion of homo-nuptials is a silly, counterfeit innovation, whose very existence mocks the sanctity of a millennia-old institution; however, like Greg Johnson, I also acknowledge that the conspicuous decline of the family and of traditional sexual morality has occurred due exclusively to the degeneration of modern heterosexuality. The grotesquely ridiculous idea of a man marrying another man could only take form within the already repugnantly absurd, patently obscene landscape of the post-sexual revolution Western world, where all that used to be unspeakable has become unspeakably commonplace.
Viewed from the perspective of our relentlessly Manichean contemporary culture of discourse, opposition to gay marriage automatically confers upon one an aura of reflexive rigidity. Yet when I examine the course of my life’s experiences, I am struck by how my own attitude towards gaydom has remained remarkably consistent. Society has changed, but I haven’t– I am still as liberal as I ever was on this issue before I left the Left, and I am no more conservative now on this matter as a far-rightist than I was as a trendy lefty back in the 1980s.
At that time, during the decade of the Gipper, when queer-aversion was so mainstream that the most popular comedians of the age commonly ripped on sodomites mercilessly with complete impunity (see here, here, and here), I formed a sympathetic outlook towards the gay population. It just didn’t seem right to me that so many people treated this unfortunate minority with snickering contempt, simply for displaying a proclivity over which they had no control.
I recall a scene in the 80s flick Crocodile Dundee 2 in which the titular hero steps onto the ledge on the high floor of a skyscraper in order to talk a heartbroken man out of suicide; when the man cries in Dundee’s arms of his romantic misfortune—“I loved that bitch, and he betrayed me!”—our hero is so taken aback by this unexpected twist that he stumbles backwards on the ledge and nearly falls to his death, having to grab precarious hold of the balcony railing to save himself; the miserable sod he saved, meanwhile, harrumphs bitchily at the plight of the man who’d been hugging him seconds earlier and departs from the ledge without doing a thing to help him.
Although this was a minor scene from an unremarkable movie, it seemed representative of a mindset that was distressingly common at the time. Once the guy on the ledge was revealed to be a homosexual, he ceased to be sympathetic or deserving of compassion in any way; instead, we were encouraged to see him as a callous, narcissistic jerk, to be dismissed out of hand, since he was a sick, fudgepacking pervert, after all. Ew, gross!
I also remember the scene in Teen Wolf when Micheal J. Fox is struggling to tell his friend that he’s a werewolf, and his friend momentarily gets the wrong impression. “Please, don’t tell me you’re a fag!” he begs. “I just don’t think I could handle that…” Unlike today, when such a character would get dressed down and forced to repent for hatespeech and thoughtcrime, at the time he was only expressing an understandable sentiment: who’d want a gay best friend, after all? Yuck!
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Moments like these are frequently found in 80s films (just watch a few sometime and you’ll recognize this to be true), and back then I found them deplorable for the casual cruelty they displayed. Today, of course, the lightly-fitting loafer is firmly affixed on the other foot. Homophilia, rather than homophobia, is now the de jure ideology of the popular culture. Comedy routines– like the abovementioned ones performed by Eddie Murphy and Sam Kinison, as well as numerous others—would be declared “unacceptable” (God, how I hate that word, and the prissy tone which inevitably accompanies its delivery!) by the effete aesthetic Stalinists whose thoroughgoing takeover of Western culture goes largely unchallenged.
Today, no one can be cruelly mocked, derided, and scapegoated in the popular media except white heterosexual men (a phenomenon well-catalogued by this particular sassy Youtube wag). Meanwhile, anything other than blandly positive portrayals of our dear fag and dyke brothers and sisters is so quickly tagged as “offensive” and targeted for censorship that everyone is on edge, wound so tight that they might snap, fearing as they do the awful retribution that accompanies the commission of thoughtcrime violations.
The Big Homo lobby wields a massive stick with an enormously wide shaft, and they are not afraid to use it against their opposition, no matter how many innocents get savagely buggered in the process. The power pendulum has swung so far to the side of the homophilic enforcers of conformity and restless fetishizers of supposed queer-virtue (“Gays make better parents!”, etc.) that its sharp end now penetrates our collective rectum, causing us all to tread gingerly, with pained expressions on our faces, fearful of giving offense to our masters. If the scene from Dundee referenced above were reshot today, the man outside the window ledge would have to be reconfigured as a farcically religious “fundie” Tea Party-going Glenn Beck listener, instead of a farcical faggot. (Of course, I’m not at all opposed to the use of caricature, provided that everyone—fundies and faggots alike– is fair game, but if such equal opportunity jokesterism wasn’t the common in the 80s, it’s even less so now.)
Power tends to transform people into assholes. In the 80s, when homophobia was cool, gays were often dumped on needlessly; today, with the Lavender Mafia calling the shots, anyone with the slightest aesthetic aversion to guy-on-guy action is castigated as a hater, and everyone with a religious objection to gay so-called “marriage” is reviled as a bigot. But bullying is still bullying, whether its victims are the leather bar-dwellers and bathhouse-goers of the San Francisco Castro district or the churchgoers and home-schoolers of Middle America.
Bullies must be faced down; they must get their asses kicked and taught humility, in order that their reign of terror may cease. But in working to defeat the bullies, we must be careful not to become the very thing that we despise. Stare into the asshole, and the asshole stares back.
Original with links, here….