Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Grinding to Gay Jihad and Crying about North Carolina

At last, after a too-long sojourn of laziness, inspiration-slackness and Vanderbilt-rednecks in North Carolina redefining marriage, I've hazily fallen back to my love, my safe place, faking everything with my words, here with this blog. I thought this, too, after a passionate affair with Mitt Romney's obviously and/or allegedly queer son Craig, my other secure sanctuary, the closeted, sometimes-bespectacled Republican with a security detail. Craig messaged me on Grindr several weeks ago (Grindr, for those not in the know, essentially geo-targets homos in one’s vicinity, displaying a picture and a brief profile, where said homos can chat, send cock shots or schedule a play date on 8th Avenue), which is not so odd given my popularity in the gay hook-up scene. The amount of forty-two year old men that shoot "Hey," "Hey sexy" or "Hey cutie, looking?" conversation starters to me astounds. Craig (not forty-two), with an angled, oily torso shot as his profile and a Republican elephant emblazoned above the right nipple, introduced himself to me in a similar capacity:

REPpedStud: Hey, what's up?
Me: Not much, you?
REPpedStud: Horny. Looking?
Me: Always, but I need to see your face and a doctor's note before I can commit to anything.
REPpedStud sends over two pictures of his face…I believe he looks familiar and douchey.

Me: Cute.
REPpedStud: Thx. What are you into?
Me: Depends, but right now I really want to get married and then have bareback sex.
REPpedStud: Oh wow.
Me: Right? This is the best place to look for both scenarios. Are you a Republican?
REPpedStud: Yes. I have a wife too.
Me: I'm practically wet. Where's your hotel?
I ponder the sacred institution of heterosexing matrimony quite often while on Grindr, constantly blocking app-ugly people and refreshing the screen to see if a new crop of studs has risen. Most of the bumping-and-grinding guys would say they want marriage legalized (I've physically polled 76% of them) while finessing the iPhone flash to properly highlight pictures of their taints to send to MuscTop4Bttm et al.

As I write, I've been reading Facebook posts, NYTimes articles and CNN blogs about the North Carolina amendment passing, denying gay marriage more succinctly and causing harm to domestic violence protections. Fuck the residents of that state that supported it. Fuck you all for breaking the heart of someone that rarely gets emotional or upset about these things. Fuck you for instigating me to eat an entire gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream while penning in this "safe haven" of mine. Fuck you for putting those hundreds and thousands of gay teens in your state at risk, burdening their already hunched shoulders with heavy disapproval and hatred. Fuck you.

Deep into the cookie dough, the vanilla coating my tongue and my eyes inflamed with hidden tears, I sit idle, at a loss as to what can be done to shift this paradigm in thinking. I've no clue. However, I do believe it will take generations for the "thinking" to change for these amendment-passing majorities, but in the interim, I propose homosexual warfare on a micro and macro scale. On a micro scale, you and I have to keep speaking about this fight, posting videos, statuses, blogs and tweets about us. Our humanity. Our hurt. Our second-class citizenry. Our voice. Our suicidal teenaged population.

On a macro level, I can only offer lofty/illogical/impossible suggestions:

President Obama should shove his testicles into descended order and make a stance against the blasphemy, bigotry and errant state amendments like North Carolina's. All un-closeted gay residents in NC should refuse to pay their state income taxes. An LGBT-friendly corporation, like Starbucks, should threaten to shut down all locations and services in the state until the amendment is revoked. The LGBT community and its supporters to never step foot in or deal with business in the state again. Everyone against the amendment moves to the state and infiltrates everything.

Ever in self-protection mode, I invariably believe the bottom line is all about money and power. If you damage economies and menace profit margins and shut down service providers, people will take heed and buckle to your demands. We have to get the power. Power will never change thinking, but it will change laws. Again, I'm pondering ridiculous suppositions, but I truly believe, amongst ourselves and our government and those we want to yell "fuck you," we need to stretch those lines of communication wider than a power bottom's anus after an all-black gang bang.

REPpedStud's hotel suite west of Times Square proffered tremendous views of the city, a city that can now house leather-themed gay weddings helmed by a man dressed as a Hasidic Jew and anti-gay Republican fundraisers officiated by Mitt Romney or Donald Trump. At both events, a ball gag sits somewhere. Laying in bed with Craig, I commented on how much I hate men, for they don't know what they want (on the micro level) and build walls of ignorant defense and distraction (on the macro level). They are singularly, gay and straight, responsible for my unhappiness, the United States' shitty welfare and Michael Jackson's still-decaying face. Men constantly let me down.

Me: You look very familiar. Are you a log-cabin Republican with a capriciously bigoted father?
REPpedStud: No, I'm Mitt Romney's son.
Me: So that's a yes? And let's talk a little bit about your use of Grindr…and my penis for that matter.
REPpedStud: Can you please sign this non-disclosure agreement?
It hits me. I'll probably never get married.