MEGA MEGA WHITE THING
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII wanna go and dance in a field to terrible bleepy 90s music with a head full of drugs. If you loved me you'd make it stop raining and find me a GODAWFUL RAVE to go to.
Apart from the aesthetic, you may have noticed a certain theme there. And I want to rant about it, because it's important to me, and because it's Saturday night and no one is looking at my soap box so I can say whatever I damn well please. Tonight, "whatever I damn well please" amounts to this:
I'm happy.
Channel 4 remind me every advert break that they're having a "season of programs" celebrating the fortieth anniversary of the legalisation of homosexuality in England. Say it with me: CE. LE. BRA. TING.
And I want to celebrate. I think we should celebrate, because even though there are countries in the world where you can still be put to death for it, even though there has been grinding resistance to same-sex partnership rights in the UK, even though half the EU can't seem to get their heads around being civilised and the Mayor of Moscow is a fucknut (plain and simple), even though people like John Howard and George Bush seem convinced that the world needs to move backwards and not forwards, even though Jody Dobrowski was beaten to death and the Admiral Duncan bomed, even though there are still murders and beatings and bullying and discrimination and hate and fear, we have made some progress.
It's possible not all of my friends will be onboard with the idea. What is there to celebrate when so much remains to be done? What is there to celebrate when the world is so imperfect?
And I kind of want to head butt people when they say things like that, because it's missing the bloody point. The world has been a much, much harsher place than it is now. All those struggles have NOT been in vain. You know I'm an idealist. You know I believe the entire fucking planet could and should be a place in which it is bearable to live for everyone; I also know how difficult it's going to be to make it so. And I don't believe there is anything to be gained in constantly looking up up the mountain face at the miles left to go, because that's dispiriting way to go about anything. Doing that means people lose faith, get despondent and give up. They become cynical about the chances of success, and stop fighting.
So hell yes, celebrate. Look at how many miles we've traveled in a few short centuries, in a few years, even. Look at what we've got on our miserable rainy unfashionable inbred stupid island - we've got businesses that worry about courting the Pink Pound. We've got civil unions. We've got out-and-proud celebrities, politicians, sportsmen and women, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers. We have our armed forced recruiting at Pride parades. It's not hunky-dory by any means, but we've had FORTY FUCKING YEARS of LEGAL HOMOSEXUALITY and that's surely something worth celebrating.
Apart from anything else, us dirty queerists know how to throw a fucking good party.
Apart from the aesthetic, you may have noticed a certain theme there. And I want to rant about it, because it's important to me, and because it's Saturday night and no one is looking at my soap box so I can say whatever I damn well please. Tonight, "whatever I damn well please" amounts to this:
I'm happy.
Channel 4 remind me every advert break that they're having a "season of programs" celebrating the fortieth anniversary of the legalisation of homosexuality in England. Say it with me: CE. LE. BRA. TING.
And I want to celebrate. I think we should celebrate, because even though there are countries in the world where you can still be put to death for it, even though there has been grinding resistance to same-sex partnership rights in the UK, even though half the EU can't seem to get their heads around being civilised and the Mayor of Moscow is a fucknut (plain and simple), even though people like John Howard and George Bush seem convinced that the world needs to move backwards and not forwards, even though Jody Dobrowski was beaten to death and the Admiral Duncan bomed, even though there are still murders and beatings and bullying and discrimination and hate and fear, we have made some progress.
It's possible not all of my friends will be onboard with the idea. What is there to celebrate when so much remains to be done? What is there to celebrate when the world is so imperfect?
And I kind of want to head butt people when they say things like that, because it's missing the bloody point. The world has been a much, much harsher place than it is now. All those struggles have NOT been in vain. You know I'm an idealist. You know I believe the entire fucking planet could and should be a place in which it is bearable to live for everyone; I also know how difficult it's going to be to make it so. And I don't believe there is anything to be gained in constantly looking up up the mountain face at the miles left to go, because that's dispiriting way to go about anything. Doing that means people lose faith, get despondent and give up. They become cynical about the chances of success, and stop fighting.
So hell yes, celebrate. Look at how many miles we've traveled in a few short centuries, in a few years, even. Look at what we've got on our miserable rainy unfashionable inbred stupid island - we've got businesses that worry about courting the Pink Pound. We've got civil unions. We've got out-and-proud celebrities, politicians, sportsmen and women, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers. We have our armed forced recruiting at Pride parades. It's not hunky-dory by any means, but we've had FORTY FUCKING YEARS of LEGAL HOMOSEXUALITY and that's surely something worth celebrating.
Apart from anything else, us dirty queerists know how to throw a fucking good party.