We have a problem in the modern debate on – well, basically everything. In a world where we’ve given everyone a multitude of platforms to express every random opinion on any and every event, issue and discussion, we’ve become enamored with extremists.
Extremists are more exciting than ever before because they provide the greatest opportunity for the greatest response. In the ever increasing attempt to not only have an opinion, but to express it and have it received, reinforced and spread to the largest audience we can reach, we embrace the extreme because we can express our strongest support or strongest aversion to the most extreme – and that is most likely to garner the most attention for our own expression.
Extremists have the strongest advocates and the strongest foes. Extremist statements receive the greatest support or opposition from normally centrist individuals. Commentary about extremists in turn receives the greatest reaction. The most comments on the Huffington Post or Facebook, the most retweets, the most likes, the most shares, the most everything. We’ve fallen in love with extremists we support and extremists we oppose because they in turn lead to the most reaction and attention for ourselves.
And it is ruining debates of every kind in the public forum. Even normally level-headed compromise-oriented individuals, myself included, feel the need to comment or weigh in the current extreme controversy in order to remain engaged in the day-to-day zeitgeist debate.
The result is that real discussion of real issues that could lead to honest debate and practical and applicable results is traded in for the feel-good reactionary attention to the most offensive and controversial moment of the day.
Blackface. Ted Cruz. Ann Coulter. Sex scandals. The N word. The Westboro Baptist Church. Obama’s a Muslim. And an endless parade of others fill the priority place headlines, Twitter trending topics and articles shared entirely too many times across the Facebook feed on a daily basis.
The problem with engaging when extremists provide some insane opportunity to react to them and collectively dividing down the middle in support of or against them is that it almost never moves to the “and what are we going to do about it?” phase anymore. We express our feelings on it, we rail at those who disagree and cheer those who support our opinion and then we move on to the next one and start all over again.
Our obsession with the most extreme thing of the day keeps us from actually creating progress and it turns the vast majority of compromise-oriented individuals into reaction extremists in order to be heard. It leads to a collective lack of patience and inability to hear those who would say, “I disagree with some, but not all of this,” or “the delivery is bad, but there is something here we should genuinely be talking about,” or even more simply “does this matter?”
Because so often it doesn’t. And the originator of the controversy should not be given the amount of airtime, attention and reaction they are given because they are ridiculous. And we all know that. But we jump on the bandwagon making whatever the particular variety of lunatic for the day is newsworthy by our very reaction.
For example, should the Westboro Baptist Church ever be news again? No. No half-decently intelligent person thinks there is anything credible in their actions, they don’t represent anyone else in the country with their methods, and yet the Huffington Post or another outlet puts up the photos, we share them and collectively shake our heads and talk about how terrible they are, and pull the discussion of the day to a subject that does not, and should not, matter.
Complicated issues evoke complicated responses and require lengthy debate and analysis of viable options. And what’s fun about that? Education reform. Immigration reform. Tax reform. Campaign finance reform. The minimum wage. Banking regulation. Healthcare reform. These are ugly, challenging, exhausting subjects because the reality is, there is no simple answer. To any of them. It’s much easier to scream about a ridiculous statement that someone made on one of these issues than it is to discuss the actual substance of the issue. We obsess over an incident of “blackface” rather than continuing to have a complicated discussion of race relations in our country. Then a day later we forget the blackface story for some new insanity, and race relations are still a problem not being addressed.
Healthcare reform is the issue of the moment. The news and politicians are obsessed over the website. Every story, every headline and even the testimony before Congress is about the implementation and the failure of the website. The website is the perfect launching point for an extremist discussion. It’s easy to talk about it, it’s a simple focal point and it completely misses any intelligent discussion of the nature of healthcare in our country.
The website is a huge problem, but the real issue is the legislation and the website is merely the implementation of part of the legislation. But it’s easy to point to and say “Obamacare sucks” because a website is failing, rather than get back into the specific issues in the Affordable Care Act that people on all sides support or take issue with. The ACA should by no means be the end of the healthcare discussion or the end of legislation related to healthcare. It will need monitoring, continued debate over the aspects that succeed or fail and adjustments made accordingly. But that’s not sexy and it’s hard to scream about monitoring and moderation. So we don’t talk about that, we scream about a website – and accomplish nothing.
We stop at the extreme moment, have our reaction and it’s over. For our society to grow and move forward, if we are going to react to extremists, it has to be to move to the teachable moment and the reasonable discussion and debate, or the reaction serves no purpose. Announcing “I think that’s awful” and listening to like-minded individuals say “me too” ad finitum feels good and does nothing but clog the public forum with mindless responses.
Extremists are important because they help everyone in the middle realize where the limits are. They help us see where the cliffs are at both edges of any debate and that’s an important element of progress and compromise. Pointing to them as examples to encourage levelheadedness is beneficial; gawking at them hoping they will do or say something even more ridiculous that we can respond to in lieu of having a discussion is not. No matter how many likes or shares it gets.
Of course, if I could say all of this in one tweet, I’d probably get more response to this too.
I produced and acted in a film at the beginning of this year called Southern Baptist Sissies, we completed the film in June and had the world premiere to a sold out crowd at the Outfest film festival in Los Angeles in July. As part of sharing the film with wider audiences, we submitted the film to a number of film festivals. My producer partner and our writer/director Del Shores and I have endeavored to make ourselves available to any festival that has the funds to get us there in order to promote the film and engage with the audience about the themes we’ve explored in it. These are the adventures that accompany attending those festivals.
First stop. Philadelphia for Philadelphia Q Fest.
We opened Sissies in Los Angeles on a Monday night, and that weekend Del and I flew to Philly for the east coast premiere. We awoke early Saturday morning – the kind of early where you only see trash collectors and glitzy outfits haphazardly thrown back on for a walk of shame (or pride depending on your perspective.) I am not a morning person. I think morning people are from the devil – and not the “drugs and endless orgies” devil, no, the “listen to Ann Coulter read her books out loud for all eternity” devil. Del is quite a morning person, and this was an early start even for him. However, we were extremely excited about our first road trip with the film, so we sped down the empty streets of Los Angeles to the airport flyaway parking and jumped on our plane to Philly. Where I promptly slept the entire way.
Arriving in Philly, we were met at baggage claim by Dave, our driver for the weekend. Apparently as a volunteer for the festival (nearly all film festivals succeed because of the countless hours donated by volunteers who make it possible for the festivals to exist), Dave had also volunteered specifically for us (well, realistically, for Del, and I was the plus one in the package deal.) We were joined in our ride into town by another filmmaker attending the festival.
Dave gave us an overview of Philly as we passed through it, and I nonchalantly offered, “I’m so excited to finally find out of this whole ‘brotherly love’ thing is about incest or black men. Either way I hope these brothers are hot.” Now, Del was busy on his phone (email, social media, the man runs his empire solo) so he missed it completely. The other filmmaker looked over his shoulder at me and I found great amusement watching my statement play across his face while tried to decide if what my ridiculous comment was racist or not. I should mention at this point that he was African-American. In the end, he decided not to comment either way. Whatever. I thought it was hilarious.
We arrived at the hotel in the late Philly afternoon. Del had friends in town so he headed out to meet them for dinner, leaving me free to roam downtown Philly on my own. I’m a travel dork. I love going new places. At age sixteen, my family moved from suburban Houston half way around the world to Singapore, and the amount of traveling I was able to do because of that has left an itch I just cannot scratch enough.
Thus, I strolled out of the hotel, checked the GPS map on my phone so I could make it back and sauntered the blocks around our hotel. After a bit of people watching and window-gazing, I decided dinner was in order. I realize it may come as a shock to some, but I do occasionally eat. Like once a month usually does it.
I used Foursquare (yes, seriously) and read some reviews of places nearby and found a highly recommended burger joint. It was just a burger joint, but I eat kind of like a five-year-old, so the fact that it was not Subway was a huge win in the “trying new things” column. I devoured a half pound burger with a fried egg and a side of truffle fries and hurried back to dress for the evening.
Our screening was at 9:15pm and on the way to the Ritz East Theater, Driver Dave gave us the history of Philly regarding the blocks, building and parks as we passed. (Dave, I still appreciate your indulgence as I peppered you with questions continuously along the ride.)
We arrived at the Ritz East Theater for the screening to discover a nice little art house theater. Apparently in Philly the independent art theater do not show any mainstream films – you have to head out to a mall with a megaplex to find those – and that is truly awesome. The lobby was filled with people waiting the late night batch of screenings. It turns out that we were screening head-to-head with a film called “RoadStrip” having its world premiere starring to porn stars on a road trip across the country. Given the choice between that and our angsty drama about gays and the church, we were thrilled with the massive turnout for our screening.
The screening was fantastic. We were thrilled and relieved that both the drama and the comedy and the unusual concept behind our film played extremely well in front of a discerning east coast audience. The Q&A after was humbling as audience members shared their reactions and stories with us and it was a great encouragement that the film is truly touching people – whether they relate to the story or not. (Side note – in case you were wondering, RoadStrip next door was a huge success as well.)
After the screening, Del had guests in town and we decided to venture out and hit the afterparty for RoadStrip and see a bit of the nightlife. The massive club where the party was being held was still nearly empty when we arrived at nearly 1AM; we were informed that it was the truly late night club where everyone headed once the other bars closed. Since we got velvet-roped at the VIP area for the Cockyboys party, we decided to venture further on.
Approaching club number two just down the street, we witnessed a large bouncer unceremoniously toss one youngish gentleman of the obviously homosexual persuasion into the street. He turned and yelled back, “you can’t treat people like that!” and as we drew closer we realized he was bleeding from the head. Concerned, I ran up and inquired if he was okay. He said he was, but I held his head still to look at the wound. It seemed it wasn’t still bleeding strongly and looked worse than it was. I’ll be honest, at discovering that he seemed unlikely to bleed out in front of me, I was reticent to actually touch him further, but told him where he should wipe up. So, good Samaritan-ish.
We entered Woody’s. It was loud and vibrant, and much more the jubilant environment we wanted for celebrating. We people watched from the patio until it started to rain. Re-entering the bar we concluded that checking out the upstairs dance floor might be fun, however, upon arriving and seeing the massive wave of people, my compatriots clearly were not so interested in pressing the flesh with the unwashed masses for the after 2AM adventure.
Exiting the establishment, we decided to call it a night. Del and I bid his friends farewell and strolled back toward our hotel. I like walking in cities late at night, there’s such a different character to be explored. And, how else will you get to hear “Oh no, he’s on crack” expressed by three different individuals in basically the same wording in a ten minute walk? Apparently Philly has a tiny crack problem late at night, but I don’t have the statistics right in front of me. Del and I found a great tiny late night dinner and dug into some greasy fare and then called it a night.
Sunday morning began bright and early with a much needed trip to the Starbucks I had located in my previous afternoon exploration (okay, fine, it was half the reason I went exploring – I have a problem. I’m not proud of it.) Dave arrived promptly to get us back to the theater for our second screening at noon.
Both of our Philly screenings were sponsored by an incredible organization called The IDentity Kit Project that works to promote conversations in the areas of sexuality and religious identity. It was a perfect fit for the conversation of Sissies and we were thrilled to have Crystal Cheatham speak about their work. You can find out more about The IDentity Kit Project here.
The screening ended and during the Q&A we heard an incredible story from a man named Juan Carlos Cruz Chellow. He saw a stage production of Sissies in Chicago years ago, and he explained that the experience of the play caused him to decide to come forward as a victim of sexual abuse by an extremely well-known Catholic priest in his home country of Chile.
Fun travel stories and film festival adventures aside, it’s the stories we are told about the impact of Southern Baptist Sissies that is the reason we are doing all of this. Now back to your regularly scheduled random anecdotes.
After the second screening was the only real bit of free time we had during this whirlwind thirty-six hour trip to Philly, and I was absolutely determined to see some of the history sights. I’m enough of a nerd about it that I made a reservation in advance for a tour of Independence Hall. So, I bailed from the screening and headed for the central historic district. Once there, I hit as many of the sights and buildings as I could, combining the information from the plaques at each sight and the wikipedia entries I pulled up on my phone while standing in front of them to get a sense of exactly what I was seeing. Hey, my time was limited, so I did the best I could do!
I struggled with the Liberty Bell. Well, I struggled with what to do with it after I made four hundred dumb jokes about the crack in it anyway (at least one was related to the late night crack comments I overheard, obviously.) I did not have time to see the Bell because of the glacial pace of the line for it and still make my tour. However, the Bell is housed in a big building with a glass front, so I looked at it from a distance and ran on.
The tour of Independence Hall was epic for two reasons. The first obviously being the history. It’s a small room really, smaller than most productions of the musical 1776 use to portray the events there – with the added benefit of bursting into song – something that might have been beneficial to the founders to ease tensions if they had thought of it. It was a little overwhelming considering the enormous decisions made it that room and the direct influence they still have on our political conversation today. They were still just men trying to do the best for themselves and the people they represented and they arrived at documents we aspire to live up to today. There views were just as polarized as our current politicians, and yet they still managed to arrive at a workable compromise. I wasn’t quite sure whether to see that as hopeful for our current climate or depressing because we seem so far from being able to do the same.
The second awesome aspect of the tour was the guide. With his long hair pulled tightly back into a salt-and-pepper ponytail, he had the kind of piercing baritone voice that must have characterized many of the great orators who succeeded before electronic amplification became possible. He did not, however, seem to have volume control. His first explanation started in a small room, and he was so loud that I watched three small children cover their ears and nearly everyone in the room snicker slightly as it seemed his intent was not to tell us the history highlights, but to scream them directly into our brain cells.
I did not sing any of the songs from 1776 during the tour. That was very difficult for me.
I finished my tour and needed to speed walk back to the hotel to clean myself up from the effects of the 91,000 damn degrees heat and head for a filmmaker gathering before the closing film and party. I stopped at a Mister Softee truck parked in front of the tourist district and had a vanilla milkshake with extra vanilla. One of my very good friends extols the virtues of Mister Softee as one of the best food substances on the face of the earth, so I tried it for his sake and took a photo to prove I had. However, when I told him it was “fine” it created a rift in our friendship that we are still working to prepare. I’m kidding. Mostly.
We had a great time with some of the other filmmakers and headed for the closing night film. During the introductions, the very person who was unsure about my possibly racist/incesty brotherly love joke made this comment to the waiting crowd, “I’m excited to be in Philly and see about all of that brotherly love…” (crickets from the audience…) “because…you know, brothers…” (crickets continue) “yeah…someone tried that on me and it didn’t work either.” I did not jump up and say, “of course it didn’t, because you tried to steal my dumb joke and didn’t even deliver it correctly after kind of being judgy when I delivered it in the first place!” But I didn’t.
After the final film, we all headed en masse to the after party, Driver Dave still dutifully and kindly getting us around town and enjoyed food, drag performances and then the awards in a cool underground multi-purpose art venue. All cement, all enclosed, but great light setup and music with a jazz ensemble in the next room. The same filmmaker that didn’t like my joke, then tried to use it and failed came by and spoke to Del as the festivities wrapped up. He did something that happens often when Del and I are together and ignored the fact that I was standing right there. It does not bother me when it happens, Del has had a hugely successful career in many mediums for thirty years and he certainly deserves the recognition and attention he gets, more than he gets sometimes frankly. However, often standing together, I get a great insight into the kind of people that speak to him. It’s kind of like that theory that if you want to understand how so many treats people, don’t watch how they treat the other guests at the table, watch how the treat the waiter. And I’m the waiter in our scenario. It provides me great amusement in the world of my favorite sport – people watching.
During my time in Philly, I had posted on Facebook that I was there and discovered that a friend from the Baylor theatre department was living and working in Philly. We connected late in the evening and it turns out she was closing a huge production of Grease at a downtown theatre and was heading out with the cast to the gayborhood to celebrate. I bailed on the afterparty and walked for 20 mins through the sweltering heat to meet her at an awesome gay wine bar. We caught up and chatted about our shared Baylor experiences and how they’ve impacted our coming out journeys. She’s African-American and lesbian, and at one point in college the joke was made more than once that she filled two friend quotas at the same time! She’s awesome and talented and I had a blast catching up and then moving onto a piano karaoke bar (yes, seriously, open mic piano) with her and her cast to bring my long Philly day to an end.
So, in the end, Philadelphia Q Fest was a truly amazing weekend. The festival treated us well, the staff were kind and gracious, Driver Dave was our personal hero and the audiences at both screenings were enthusiastically receptive during the film and thoughtful and appreciative in the Q&As. We couldn’t have asked for better treatment from Philly and it was a great kickoff to our traveling festival adventures.
You can check out the video I made of parts of the Philly weekend here:
Ambivalently on board, I continued my attempt at creating fun social adventures by attending a Tony Bennett concert at the Hollywood Bowl last night. I would say that I enjoy Tony Bennett, I certainly have an affinity for some of his classic songs, though some of my familiarity with them is through the interpretations of other singers, but I do not get in the car and think “wow, I really just want to listen to Tony Bennett right now.” I am by no means a super fan; I went mostly for the company and something to go out and do that did not involve a bar.
That said, the evening was mesmerizing. On every level. First, I will say that I am a great fan of standards, although that label means something and nothing to me at the same time since it really means popular music from a previous era. So it’s not pop, it’s not oldies – it just means great songs that have withstood the test of time, but it is still a rather generic catch all category.
Second, Tony Bennett is 87 years old, there was actually a cake and a chorus of Happy Birthday from the audience at the end, and he owned that stage with a guitarist, a pianist, a bassist and a drummer – and nothing else. No crazy sets, mild light shifts as the songs changed and a microphone. A showman and entertainer who commanded attention with an understated performance quality both spontaneous and polished. His vocal quality is wonderful, for any age. His ability to perform songs he has been singing for decades with a feeling of freshness while building anticipation, leading the audience to wonder how exactly the next lyric, known by nearly everyone in attendance, would be performed, was inspiring and electrifying. The songs are wonderful, and he clearly trusts the music and then simply stands there and tells the story of a song. That’s it. And it was exquisite.
There is a deceptive simplicity in performing “standards” well. They are songs so perfectly crafted – in melody and lyrics – that they don’t need anything “done” to them to make them compelling and interesting. However, to make them soar requires a deep understanding of the story of the song and how the melody progresses to make it impactful in a way that reminds everyone why the song is a standard in the first place. Tony’s daughter sang before him, and honestly, gave a master class in demonstrating the difference between getting all the notes and words out (what she did) and truly singing the song (what he did).
So the concert was phenomenal. My two favorite moments, of many, were his take on “Maybe This Time” from Cabaret and “Smile”.
Finally, the evening was fantastic for an entirely different set of reasons as well. It was an amazing concert experience. There were entire numbers where you could have heard a pin drop across the entire audience. No rustling, no coughing, no muttering to the person in the next seat – just rapt attention. In an outdoor space the size of the Bowl it was rather astonishing to experience. It was as though everyone collectively understood and respected that we were all going to love this, and no one was going to inhibit anyone else’s enjoyment. Now, I have to believe there were others there like me who are not super fans, but still everyone seemed to respect the greater sense of community. Certainly it’s a testament to the compelling nature of Tony’s performance, but it’s also reassuring that the ability for large crowds of people to still behave considerately still exists – something that seems to be growing rare at artistic events and even more so in generic public gatherings.
Now, I’m not suggesting that a Katy Perry concert needs to have the same kind of decorum, but in an age where people are answering their phones in movie theaters and texting their way through live theatre – it made me feel a little bit better about the future of public interaction. It’s likely that age and maturity were a factor, we were on the younger end of the audience, but even so – it is jaded Los Angeles where everyone works incredibly hard to appear unimpressed by anything.
Additionally, with the exception of Tony’s first entrance and encore moments, there were very few cellphones on display. In fact at one point, from our nosebleed seats, I counted the illuminated screens across the entire audience in front of me, and came up with twelve. That was it. Nearly the entire audience sat and just enjoyed the live experience. You could feel the collective intake of anticipation as “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” started. There are so many events these days where it seems the vast majority of people are watching something live through the screen of their cellphone as they attempt to document it. It’s sad to me. And it was refreshing to find that almost completely absent.
So what’s the point? Well, Tony Bennett is a phenomenal performer. A kind of singer and entertainer that is growing scarce. However, they are not gone and it turns out neither are the kind of audiences that can and will respect the communal nature of experiencing live art. So thanks to Tony, and thanks to everyone else in the audience – because it took everyone there to create such a truly memorable evening.
Now excuse me while I go post my photos on Instagram.
With Blake McIver, Scott Nevins and the incomparable Susie Ewing
There is an awesome amount of attention being drawn to the horrific events that are resulting from Russia’s most recent anti-LGBT legislation. Publicized as protecting children, it is providing cover and government approval for persecution of gays of all ages. The government has gone so far as to make clear that international travelers are not above prosecution under the new draconian legislation.
Fortunately, in our modern world, unique and interesting methods are being used to keep the discussion in the forefront of western news. Dan Savage and others called for a boycott of Russian vodka. The nitty gritty details of Stoli’s non-Russian current existence is less important than the fact that bars dumping Russian vodka creates images that are newsworthy which is the point of a boycott. It’s clear to all that this kind of action isn’t going to cause change in Russia directly, but the more high profile our outrage, the more likely our politicians will be forced to engage in the discussion – boycotts are about attention – and the more we have, the longer we have it, the more likely concrete results will happen in as much as we can exert outside pressure on Russia as a member of the world community.
The Sochi Olympics are causing a great deal of back and forth with some calling for a boycott and others defending the athletes who have spent a lifetime preparing and will be caught in the crossfire. The Olympics have been boycotted before, to no avail, because they are not, and are not meant to be, political events. The entire point in the modern era of the Olympics is that they exist outside of political issues and bring an enormous amount of the world together to cheer individual achievement. I understand the reasoning that Russia will make enormous amounts of money off of the event, but I believe there are better and smarter ways to handle the Olympics problem that allow for continuing to create newsworthy moments without dampening the competitive opportunity for athletes from all over the world. Not to mention, we did not boycott the Chinese Olympics – and they have been committing genocide against Tibetans, treating women like pack mules and property and generally violating all aspects of individual freedom since, you know, forever – so as upset as we are, the Olympics are meant to be outside of all of those things.
The Russian government appeared to give essentially a free pass to LGBT travelers for the Olympics (gee, thanks so much) and then immediately other government speakers said they did not have the authority to do that. So the theoretical consequences for those who seem to violate the new laws while in attendance for the games are still up in the air.
This is where there is opportunity. Rather than running from the Olympics and boycotting, the LGBT community and its allies from all over the world should run gaily forward at the Olympics. Outside of the horrifying videos coming out of Russia, one of the most impactful images is that of Tilda Swinton standing with the rainbow flag in Moscow. With travelers, team members and athletes from all over the world converging and billions of home viewers, the opportunities for similar displays will be endless. Brave individuals willing to make similar or stronger stands are a far more impactful way to protest. Then we must all hold NBC accountable to ensure that this aspect of the events surrounding Sochi is covered and broadcast around the world. Gays willing to hold hands and walk through the Olympic Village. Men kissing men and women kissing women at the entrance to every Olympic event venue. Despite what they may say now, Russia will have a hard time punishing international attendees with the whole world watching. And if they do? Imagine the outrage from many countries and their delegates and representatives if two American or Norwegian or French men were jailed for holding hands or kissing in Sochi?
Now, what will this do for Russian LGBT individuals following the games? We can’t know that. However, as we work to support them, the louder we scream and the more we create news opportunities with Russia as the focus, the easier it will be to call on our politicians to address these issues with the Russian government. It’s not an easy road to saving the LGBT youth who are the most in danger from the Russian government’s actions, but doing everything we can do to keep it in the news is a step to ensuring they are not alone in defending themselves and changing their country as we continue to work to change ours.
So let’s head to Sochi and make a big enough scene that the Russian LGBT communities that risk their lives to have unapproved pride parades know that we are standing with them in any way we can think of. Bedecked in rainbows and bedazzled to within an inch of our lives, let’s ensure that no matter how hard they try, they will not be able to pretend that we are not there.
As I walked to get coffee this morning, the strangest thing happened – my eyes started leaking. Like they were broken or something. I worried for a moment I needed to head for the doctor, because it didn’t really make sense. This morning’s announcement by the Supreme Court overturning DOMA and returning equality to marriage in California was the expected result articulated by most experts. So why this strange tear-related phenomenon?
Because we are getting there. This decision is a definitive line in the sand. It is a new baseline that it will be impossible for hatemongers and bigots and fear-based religious groups and figures to scream and shout our nation back from. It means change. Permanent change. It means that the tidal wave of progress for the LGBT community in being legally treated as individuals equal to all others in this great nation has set a new benchmark, thanks to the greatest bench in the land.
It also means we are one massive step closer to no longer needing approval. To no longer needing to justify or rationalize or explain our behavior and our lifestyle and the way we love and express that love to whomever we love. It is an enormous amount of energy we as individuals and as a community continue to expend in attempting to change the hearts and minds of those who oppose LGBT equality. And it is exhausting.
There is an element of approval-seeking in working to convince a majority of citizens and voters in jurisdictions across the country to cast their vote in favor of our rights. It creates rifts in the community about how we should behave and how we should fight and what our arguments should sound like and what we should walk like and talk like and dress like to make the best case to our opponents and those on the fence.
And we should not have to do that. We should not have to have conversations about what the dress and manner of Pride parades and events project about our community when they are shown on the news. It shouldn’t matter what we wear, what we look like, how monogamous we are or are not and how we each deal with the God we do or do not believe in as we live our life.
For me, what really stands out about today, beyond the importance of equality, is what that equality truly means for each of us as individuals and as an LGBT community. It means we are ever so much closer to the day when we can truly and completely stop caring what anyone else thinks of each of us and all of us. We can stop trying to convince family members and acquaintances and politicians and hate-spewing bigots that we are worthy and deserving of equal treatment.
Because on the day, and it is day frustratingly far for some and entirely too near for those who do not understand what equality should truly mean under the law, that equality for all members of the LGBT exists nationwide – we get to just be. Whoever we want to be. With no need to justify, rationalize or explain to anyone else, ever or for any reason. Each of us will finally be equal. What today really makes clear is that THAT day is truly inevitable. And today, inevitability is barreling toward our nation – and it sounds like a great big freak-flag-waving, jazz-hand-musical-theatre-singing, diva anthem belting its way permanently into history.
Not since Kim Kardashian married that guy she’s not married to anymore has the internet exploded so strongly over a wedding as it did Sunday night to the events that took place at the nuptials of Edmure Tully and the only attractive Frey daughter on Game of Thrones.
There are no spoilers here, if you are a real fan, you’ve watched it by now. The Red Wedding. That horribly graphic and terribly tragic event that has caused many across the television-viewing audience to shake their heads in disgust and wonder that they ever invested in this crazy show in the first place. There has been screaming. And crying. And gnashing of teeth of nearly biblical proportions.
And that – is AWESOME.
I will admit, that because I read the books six years ago, I am in the group that had foreknowledge of this coming tragedy as I have watched the threads of Martin’s vast story woven together by the incredibly deft hands of David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. I am continuously impressed by the way they have made accessible the world of the seven kingdoms and beyond to new audiences, balancing the enormous cast of characters against ensuring that most viewers are able to keep up with the most important story threads. It was an ambitious undertaking and they have been massively successful – and the explosive and emotional reaction to the Red Wedding is proof positive of that.
I understand how betrayed many people feel. I had the same reaction when I reached this moment in the book six years ago. I threw the book across the room and walked out destroyed and convinced that I would not be able to read on. I was done. This was absolutely insane and I wanted no part of it. Even knowing it was coming, it was heart-wrenching to watch, and it was executed offensively perfectly. Not since Lindelof and company killed Charlie on Lost have a I felt so strongly about a writer’s decision and wondered if I could even continue on the journey with them.
Why did it hurt so bad? Why was it so shocking? Why are the legions vowing never to watch again? Because you just don’t do that. You don’t kill the hero. That’s the heart of the issue, right? In the world of fantasy, sure, peripheral characters die all the time, a few secondary level ones that you are fond of fall occasionally for the emotional jolt. But the hero? Never. And that’s what Rob Stark was. Catelyn dying, would be tragic, just as Ned Stark’s death was. Rob’s wife and unborn child dying would be horrific, but a rite of passage giving the hero renewed passion for his quest. In the world of coming of age and fantasy storytelling, the old guard inevitably pass from importance as the young generation survive their rights of passage to head for the important battles. They cut their teeth, they make mistakes, they lose loved ones and then after significant danger and sacrifice – they triumph. That’s the way it works. We know this and we still love to watch it happen.
In the world of Westeros and beyond, at the moment before the Red Wedding we had three genuine heroes – Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow and Rob Stark. The Dragon Queen off in her own world to factor into the Westeros story at some point and the two half-brothers, sons of the great fallen leader, beginning the long journey down two very different paths to being men their father would be proud to call sons. Sure there are other heroic characters, and others who may grow to be heroes, but in the nature of “correct” storytelling – these are our three heroes. At the end of their journeys they will lead the forces, or join together, or one may turn to the other side and they will meet on the battlefield as enemies, but we know they will be there. We KNOW it.
And then George R.R. Martin brought the mountain down upon us. He betrayed us, our faith in storytelling and in doing so left us floundering in his world unsure of everything we hold true and dear. This, my friends and fellow mourners, is truly great storytelling.
I know, many will resist this idea for some time, the grieving process is complicated. However, it is this ability to genuinely and honestly reflect an incredibly real world that made the story so engaging from the beginning. In life, the good guys don’t always win, not every crime is punished and sometimes the hero does not get the chance to do the great things he was meant to do. It’s harsh and it’s real and it’s wonderful to see. Ned Stark was only just the beginning.
Martin is no Tolkien, or even Robert Jordan, where nearly every major hero and villain makes it to and through the final battle with one extremely important death right at the end so we all remember that the victory of good always comes through a Christ-like sacrifice. We should have known when Ned lost his head, but we viewed this as a necessary moment to show who is truly evil and make room for the new generation of good to grow. We should have known when the Kingslayer lost his hand. Martin took the perfect swordsman/villain/masculine villain and figuratively emasculated him by removing the most important representation of his masculine identity.
We should have known all bets were off, no one is safe – but we didn’t. We were fools, comfortable in our belief that no matter how surprising the twist might be, some things are certain the world of telling a great story. It is precisely because our smug foolishness as viewers has been pointed out to us that we are so angry. No matter how many ways we may have pictured the story playing out, this was not among any of the potential futures. We don’t know as much as we thought we knew.
In our world of overexposure and movie trailers that tell the entire story and formulaic procedurals, we have become accustomed to knowing what will happen and then just watching it play out. We’re smarter than the show. Or the film. Or the reality show. We’re always right, and with the ability of social media to express outrage in reaction, sometimes we even get to impact the results. This time, there’s no going back. Rob Stark is dead. Game of Thrones is not what we thought it was, and no each of us must decide for ourselves if we can live with that.
Because Martin has cracked the foundation beneath us, he has proved he is willing to do anything to anyone at any time. Once the rage, shock and anger dissipate – we will all be at the edge of our seats watching with renewed interest and expectation. Because apparently, there are no rules – and that is a truly exciting story to watch unfold.
Batten down the hatches, because Martin is not done with us yet and no one is every truly safe.
Straight-Acting. It’s a shorthand phrase used by many gay men to describe either themselves or the general character and behavior of the kind of guy they are interested in. It also sends many a homo into a tizzy of sputtering irritation. I get it. Sort of.
I am not straight-acting. I’m more than willing to acknowledge that I am tall and thin with a haircut that is just possibly Bieber-referential, compliments in my direction tend more toward “pretty” than “handsome,” I talk quickly, enthusiastically and with my hands when excited and the timbre of my voice does not resonant with overt masculinity. Thus, if one is looking for boxes to check in the stereotypical “is he/isn’t he?” game, I likely check off more than enough boxes to make the gay assumption not unreasonable. And thus, by straight-acting standards, I do not qualify.
Don’t get me wrong, on a scale from one to RuPaul’s Drag Race contestant, I’m probably squarely in the middle. Fifty yards of chiffon do not fly out of my mouth when I talk and my S’s do not last longer than necessary. Still, you can tell, and the ability to identify me as gay has grown stronger, not weaker. It does not take long in a conversation for many-a-somewhat unsophisticated individual to state, rather than really ask, “So, you’re gay, right?” or with the occasional addition of a particularly irksome adverb to become, “So, you’re obviously gay, right?”
And it’s true. The answer to the question is yes. So, I am not straight-acting. I have dealt with the aspects of my upbringing that caused me to feel the need to appear straight-acting at all times. I’m from Texas (cue eyeroll) where a particular brand of athleticism and masculinity is exalted and embodied in the cowboy/frat boy/football player straight-acting persona. It is a cultural aspiration taught to young men as the most desirable of male personalities. I am not, and was not ever close to being, that. I also have an unexplainable tendency to drop my voice two octaves when standing with a group of straight men discussing a particular sportsball match. Still, I’m not fooling anyone.
It’s taken a long time to get here, but I’m truly happy with who I am and with not being straight-acting anymore. Because that’s what it was – an act. My attempt to live up to a historical perception of what it means to be a man, so that on some subconscious level, being gay would not take away from my masculinity.
The secret is, it still doesn’t. I’m not more or less masculine for being gay, I’m more or less masculine by the way I choose to behave. Having feminine traits and allowing them to be present in my personality does not make me less of a man; it makes me a different kind of man. It is so very freeing to be okay with that. I allow myself to queen out on occasion, or anytime a Katy Perry song is playing, because I no longer care whether I am perceived as the historically and stereotypically gender-confirming definition and appearance of masculinity.
Because that’s really what we’re talking about here. Masculinity. “Straight-acting” is internet profile and dating shorthand for “one that could pass under the stereotypical definition of what it means to be masculine and a man.” As in, “one who could pass” as straight.
This is where I have a problem with it, because it does a disservice to both gay men and straight men. “Straight-acting” reinforces the idea that there is “gay-acting” behavior, which reinforces stereotypes once (okay, fine, often still) presumed to be negative. In times not long ago, the only easily-identified homosexuals were the ones who could not “pass” as a straight. The light-in-the-loafers, or swishy, men. Feminine behaviors, limp wrists, smooth walks, soft voices. They were also the first to be loudly and proudly gay because they could not hide. They were often the bravest, along with the drag queens, who made the choice to be proudly out in front while those who could pass stayed in the shadows or the closet waiting for safer times to stand up and come out.
We live in a time that is far more welcoming to both the “straight-acting” and those who are not or do not care to be, and the tent has grown to include out and proud gays of all shapes, types and sizes, and yet “straight-acting” continues to carry an element of self-loathing, or at least judgment of those who are not, as though to not be straight-acting is somehow lesser.
The other side of this coin is the message we as community send to straight men by continuing to use this phrase as some kind of ideal to be achieved or desired. There’s an implication that in order to continue to be perceived as straight, they must be even more straight-acting than the most straight-acting homosexual, or else be perceived as gay. With the suggestion that this would be a negative thing.
In being gay, and releasing any need to project a straight-acting persona, I’m allowed to cry watching The Vampire Diaries, sing like I’m Effie in Dreamgirls telling you I’m not going or catwalk down the sidewalk like it’s the Top Model runway if I so choose. (And I do all of these things.) By suggesting as individuals, or as a community, that “straight-acting” is something that is more attractive or more desirable, it propagates the idea that “not straight-acting” is less than. To other gays, and to straight men who may be sensitive, or artistic, or emotional or who just do not live their day-to-day lives as some kind of overgrown Abercrombie lumberjack, it sends the message that those may be okay things to be, but straight-acting and uber-masculine is still better.
And let’s be honest here, no homosexual is “straight-acting” unless they are having sex with women. That’s acting straight. It’s actually the only thing in a modern world where every individual should be free to be exactly who they are or want to be that should be considered straight-acting. Any of the other aspects of the definition have better and more accurate words to describe behavior traits that are personally preferable that do not somehow imply that some 1950’s definition of masculinity is the best and highest brass ring.
Call yourself athletic or, in the most clinically accurate description, “aligning with historical gender norms of masculinity.” Yes, straight-acting is shorter, but it’s insulting to both straight men and gay men, and the work the gay community has done to be seen as more than just the kind of sex we have. If you are traditionally masculine, with interests that align with some general concept of stereotypical straight men – good for you, you represent one aspect of the gay community that helps the general straight population understand that the only thing all homosexuals have in common is the attraction to other men. There is nothing wrong with having a preference for a particular kind of man, but how about you find a way in this amazing English language of ours, that has so many adjectives with particular and specific meanings, to describe your preferred partner that does not reinforce archaic stereotypes and suggest some kind of backhanded insult that the rest of us are somehow less than, or less desirable for not choosing to act straight. Thanks, gurrrrrrl!
I’m not straight-acting. And no matter how you look at it, if you’re having sex with men – neither are you.
A lesbian relationship between two high school students is making national headlines as Kaitlyn Hunt, now eighteen, has been charged with two counts of lewd and lascivious battery of a child age 12 to 16. The younger girl’s parents notified authorities after Kaitlyn turned eighteen. Kaitlyn was also expelled from her high school. You can read the story here.
The outcry is a result of the obvious bigotry on the part of the younger girl’s parents who plainly do not approve of their daughter’s lesbian relationship and blame Kaitlyn for it. The bigotry of the younger girl’s parents is tragic, and they are undoubtedly doing enormous damage to their daughter through this process. That is an injustice and a reminder that as the LGBT community gains ground, there are still many LGBT and questioning youth who face enormous challenges in the journey to discovering who they are.
However, in the emotional response to the anti-LGiBT sentiments expressed in reporting the relationship to the police, many seem to want to ignore the reality of the law. That the young girl’s parents are bigots does not change the letter of the law. It is illegal in the state of Florida for anyone over the age of 18 to engage in a sexual relationship with a child age 12-16. The law doesn’t address sexuality, even though sexual bigotry was involved in the reason for the reporting. Regardless of public sentiment over why the charges were brought, it doesn’t change the validity of the charges or the state attorney prosecuting them. Now, if there is precedent for the state attorney not proceeding with charges in similar situations involving heterosexual high school couples, then the allegations of bigotry in the criminal process are valid. If not, it’s their job to prosecute crimes under state and local laws when violations are brought to their attention.
Obviously the issues of teenagers dating, maturity, development and sex has a long and difficult history. Parental approval, legislation designed to prevent developing teenagers from being taken advantage, sexual pressure, sexual predators and exploring sexuality make for a difficult world for teens, parents and the law to navigate.
We also have a somewhat intrinsic, and likely sexist, application in our public perception of adolescent/adult relationships. A relationship between an eighteen-year-old male and a fifteen-year-old female is likely to meet with more disapproval than an eighteen-year-old female with a fifteen-year-old male. I can’t help but picture Matthew McConaughey rattling off his infamous Dazed and Confused quote and creepily ending it with ” they stay the same age,” when discussing older guys dating younger girls. The perceived inequality has a visual element that enhances it as typically the male is larger than the female.
We collectively seem to view teacher/student relationships similarly. Female teachers sleeping with students have a vaguely Mrs. Robinson quality whereas male teachers sleeping with students are unequivocally viewed as child molester/rapists.
There is a commonly held belief, though I have no basis for the science of it, that girls mature faster in high school than boys. The empirical evidence of my personal experience suggests this to be true in mental maturity, if not in sexual maturity. It is the lack of equality in sexual maturity, as opposed to sexual development, that is part of the reason laws like this one in Florida are enforced across significant parts of the country regardless of the consent involved in the relationship. Adolescents are not fully formed adults, and in many cases their bodies arrive there before there mental processes and emotional development do. As a result, adults have created legislation to protect them from themselves, over their objection if need be.
The murky nature of this specific incident is that there are fewer examples and considerations for the inequity in age development in same-sex relationships. Many of the issues the legal statutes are designed to address are the result of gender development differences. Thus, part of the issue here, beyond the bigotry, is what are the differences between heterosexual relationships with adolescents of different ages and homosexual relationships with the same age differences. In reality, there are likely differences that should be considered, just as there are differences between adult heterosexual and homosexual relationships.
That being the case, then the issue here is really about what the laws are. Because the law is still very clear in its application to this situation. Yes, there are some ludicrous aspects to consider that any relationship, heterosexual or homosexual, could become a crime overnight because one party has a birthday. There should be allowance for mitigating circumstances, and they should be applied to both heterosexual and homosexual scenarios. A year-long relationship should not become a crime from one day to the next. There is likely an argument to be made for an “older than eighteen and/or graduated from high school” qualification that would ensure that students don’t encounter being in a relationship that is suddenly illegal three months before graduation. However, we do also have to continue to vigilantly protect adolescents from situations where they can be taken advantage of, even if they don’t see it that way.
The first tragedy here is the way exemplary student Kaitlyn has been treated. The second is the horrifying way the younger girl’s parents chose to end a relationship they did not approve of and the deep homophobia they are directing at their own daughter in the process. The third is our willingness to be righteously indignant and ignorant of the law and its application. If we would apply it to an eighteen-year-old boy, it has to be applied to an eighteen-year-old girl – lesbian or not. If the law is the issue, which behind the anger at the bigoted parents, it is, then working to craft better and more accurate legislation to allow for the variety of scenarios that can occur in a high school is an important part of this social media outcry – to ensure that another student like Kaitlyn – gay, straight, male or female – isn’t able to be called a criminal without due consideration of the surrounding circumstances.
The recent uproar over Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries comments about the brand’s target market is kind of fascinating. His comments are from an interview he did in 2006, and yet the entire social media universe is acting as though these were incendiary statements made last week. You can read the entire original piece on Salon here.
It’s hard to tell whether the explosive reaction is to the blunt honesty of the statements or to the irony of a man who looks like a bizarro-Picasso perversion of the Abercrombie ideal. Let’s be honest, the statements Jeffries made are extremely offense in a society where we are working to combat bullying among adolescents, celebrate diversity in beauty and promote healthy self-perception. For Jeffries to state openly and unashamedly that his brand is only interested in the “cool kids” and specifically thin girls is insulting. The fact that he had no qualms about stating those facts is likely the most galling element of the story.
But let’s be real. Why is this shocking? This is a company and brand that has made a name for itself marketing a very specific ideal. Ad campaigns featuring scantily clad models, that seem to imply that you can actually buy a barely legal model in the stores rather than clothes, have long been the norm. The boy in low-slung jeans with a washboard 8-pack is a fixture at the entrance to their stores at malls across America. There has never been any doubt who Abercrombie wants to buy their clothes – and that target audience continues to do so.
Jeffries may be in the hot seat for saying it out loud, but Abercrombie is far from the only brand to set an exclusive vision of a customer as a part of creating an aspirational brand. It starts with the great fashion houses of Europe and trickles most of the way down. At nearly every fashion price point there is a brand targeting a particular ideal customer. Yes, some of them sell clothes in sizes that would allow customers that don’t fit their brand ideal, but that’s not about being inclusive, it’s about maximizing profit. Target sells clothes from size “zero” to “tent” because they want to make as much money as possible, not because they care about ensuring all shapes and sizes feel comfortable being associated with their brand and in their clothes. Is it any better to sell the image of the perfect model with the perfect body and the seemingly-perfect existence, knowing a customer will be drawn in because they associate the clothing with attaining that lifestyle – even though they have nothing in common with it? Victoria’s Secret anyone?
Marketing teams for every brand across the country sit in meetings crafting idealized ad campaigns to target the trend setters that are their ideal customers where they say the exact same thing Jeffries said, specific to their audience, and then craft campaigns and strategies to support it. They just don’t say it outright. They are all looking for the “cool kids” – the only difference is the demographic. The cool young professionals. The cool African-Americans. The cool young parents. The cool athletes. The cool gays. Every demographic has its version of the high school “cool kids” because after all, the only difference between high school and adult life is one happens before graduation, the other after. There are still cliques, there are still mean girls and there are still the kids that the rest of the kids want to be.
Fashion and marketing are simply a reflection of how we view ourselves and each other and the things we choose to idealize. If we taught our children that the All-American frat boy and sorority girl look were not, in fact, the ideal, then Abercrombie’s influence would be far less profound.
The basis for this uproar is coming from adults and those outside of Abercrombie’s demographic anyway, it’s highly unlikely the target market teens who can afford to shop there, and fit into their clothes, care one way or another about how the rest of us feel about the situation. The cool kids like being the cool kids. It’s the rest of us that give them that power. If we stopped doing that, and taught our kids to stop doing that, they wouldn’t be the cool kids anymore. That’s the greatest damage we could do to sad people like Mike Jeffries. Though giving his clothes to the homeless is rather genius as well. Well done, Greg Karber.
With the incredibly rapid advancement of marriage equality with three new states this month, a new battleground is emerging in the wedding industry with prominent skirmishes revealing clashes that are likely to grow in number as the weighty topics of equality, discrimination and religious freedom collide amidst the tulle and tulips of the world of weddings.
It provides a new kind of conflict worthy of discussion. I understand that it should be simple because refusing services based on sexuality is discrimination. The resolution of many of these conflicts will be determined by the desire of the offended party to seek punitive redress through anti-discrimination statutes. Not all anti-discrimination statutes are crafted alike; some states, like Oregon, have sexuality clearly included related to commerce and services, while some do not.
The opposing stance relies on the idea that if an individual creates a business they should have the right to run it the way they choose and not be asked to violate their first amendment right to exercise their religion while operating their business because of the request of a customer.
Let’s not pretend that the lines between freedom of religion, freedom of association, business and discrimination are evenly or even consistently drawn. This scenario is not as life-and-death as doctors and hospitals refusing to provide abortions in situations where the mother’s life is in danger, but the impact of how these kinds of conflicts are resolved deserves some level-headed discussion.
The wedding industry is somewhat unique because so many fields come together to create a wedding. They may be specifically focused on weddings where this will be a significant issue, or providing for weddings may only be a part of a business. As a result, marriage equality is having an impact on everything from florists and printers to bakers and caterers.
The simple correlation is to say that enforcing anti-discrimination laws is important with the throwback example of an independent restaurant owner refusing service to black people. Obviously common knowledge understands that this is illegal, and anti-discrimination legislation (and basic human decency) ensures it does not happen. Refusing to provide a cake or flowers to a gay couple for the wedding is the same under many laws. Even if the legal status is quite clear, it is creating a murkier social discussion placing one party’s civil liberties and another party’s desire to operate their business in accordance with their religious beliefs at opposite ends of a fight that is going to grow more heated.
Marriage equality is about civil recognition under the law of the land. For many, and the grounds for the continued strong opposition, marriage is a religious institution and the ceremony surrounding it a reflection of that religious institution. After all, for the civil recognition, a trip to city hall for the license and a few minutes with a justice of the peace takes care of all of the legal benefits granted to marriage. This new battleground is about the ceremony and its accoutrements. It’s about the social impact of the civil recognition.
To understand these conscientious objections (and ignoring for the moment the basic hole in the argument presented by the extreme probability that none of these religious objectors ask their customers or clients if they have been divorced, or committed adultery, or co-habitated before the wedding, or engaged in pre-marital sex and deny services based on those violations of the religious doctrine associated with marriage), I’ve attempted to consider a scenario where I might feel similarly.
Let’s say I run a catering company. I would absolutely refuse to cater any kind of sportsball event. I don’t like them. It’s my business and I do what I want with it. This scenario is not likely to ruffle any feathers, even though it would be a consistent and permanent form of discrimination on my part. Fortunately, hating sporstball doesn’t run me afoul (Foul! Sportsball reference!) of anti-discrimination laws.
Let’s now consider one based on my own moral principles. If the KKK wanted me to cater an event, I would absolutely refuse my services with any excuse I could come up with. I’m booked, I’m busy, my truck caught on fire, all my employees have ebola, I hate everything you stand for – something along those lines. Now the KKK doesn’t really fall under anti-discrimination statutes either, but it helps me wrap my mind around the supposed moral ground for refusing to allow one’s business to provide services to activities one sees as immoral.
The obvious solution for religious objectors to avoid anti-discrimination charges while still refusing to provide their services would be to offer a less inflammatory excuse along these lines. (Okay, maybe the ebola one is a little far-fetched.) However, many of these individuals seem intent on explaining the “why” behind their refusal, so they put their bigotry on full display and place it behind the wall of their religious freedom.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, whether you are a bigot for your own worldview or because the tenets of your religion require you to be so – you are still a bigot. “It’s what I believe” leads to the same conclusion either way. Stop using other words to say “I’m a bigot” so proudly.
This issue is going to continue to generate press and conflict, and I think the most important element will be how the conversation is handled. On both sides. Any of the links I listed above show extremist responses in the comments sections from each end of the opinion spectrum, religious extremists proclaiming the right of the business owner to not be involved with the work of the devil and extremist gay supporters suggesting or advocating harm to the business owner or property. Neither of these responses is acceptable.
Marriage and weddings are extremely emotional events already, and these examples demonstrate that we are likely in for a long journey between even a permanent national legal victory and truly commonplace acceptance across the board. Let’s remember that sharing experiences of discrimination is a great way to recommend or discourage the patronage of a particular business, and doing so is the greatest way to show the economic impact bigoted beliefs will have.
At the same time, let’s also remember that it is the legal recognition that truly matters and is worth complete attention and our time and energy. Suing Betty’s Flower Phantasmagoria because they won’t provide the perfect arrangements for the big show that accompanies the civil rights? There might be a better use of all of our time. So absolutely, tell your friends and the public about your experience – on Facebook, on Yelp, even as a tip on Foursquare. Announce this business is anti-LGBT and allow other customers to decide whether to give them business or not. I don’t want to get married in a church that doesn’t support my marriage, and I don’t want flowers, a cake, my Gucci tuxedo or the show pony I plan to ride into the reception from a company that doesn’t support the celebration of my big day either, so I’ll take my business elsewhere.
Besides, when the myriad businesses that support the wedding-industrial complex truly grasp the absolutely insane amount of money that homosexuals will be willing to spend in order to create the most perfect ceremony and the reception that people will be talking about for years to come – the economic punishment to the profits of bigots will be the ultimate victory.
It Seems To Me... 