Saturday, 14 July 2012

Proud of What? The Shame Season

It is that time of year again, the Pride Season.

Every city & borough must have a Gay Pride March or risk being consigned to the second rate & terminally provincial. In a world of near absolute individual freedom where being gay, far from being a a black mark on one's social copy book is instead a passport to cool, it is hard to see what point or purpose these marches hold.

I have been uninterested in these public displays. A distrust of over-exhibitionist displays made me question why precisely participants needed the marches. A happy Saturday spent with a prince (who, afterwards turned into a particularly noxious frog) at the Dublin Pride at least surrounded the parades with a certain romantic glow.  
No amount of freedom can stop young people struggling with identity, working out who they are & what their path is. What effect on young men, struggling with identity, a parade of gyrating near naked males herded by drag queens has is not measurable. That it is no help and may even may be damaging is fairly obvious, but this will not stop the professional queers.

For the professionally gay, sexuality is the ultimate achievement. Gay is what they are, the entire circumference of their persona. Sexual identity is all. Gay makes them interesting & justifies their lives. That we are more than our sexual identity was the reason for liberation from vicious legal prejudice: now we seek imprisonment within that single dimensional id.

The epitome of that thinking was the appointment as Grand Marshall of the Dublin Pride March a man without any obvious achievement to his name except that he dresses as a women, or rather as a gay man's version of a woman. Drag has always seemed to me to be a cry for help, a public display that exhibits rather than masks the pain beneath, an evidence of personal problems rather than reason to celebrate.

If the march is about pride it must be possible to find a gay person for which there might be reason to be proud, a person who has achieved beyond the ordinary. Peter Thiel is neither Irish nor available but how many of the organisers of these nonsensical parades even know who he is? Unfortunately, for the victim culture steeped professional gays, Miss Panti Bliss is a high achiever: professionally gay to the utter extreme.

I can no longer be uninterested in Pride Marches. These parades are a source of shame, an embarrassment to any gay person who thinks himself, as I do, fully equal. They reek of ghetto, victim culture & rank intellectual laziness. It is time not just to re-evaluate but to stop in the name of real equality.

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