Whose Gender Is It, Anyway?

I see gay people, and they're everywhere.

Once upon a time, the only gay people on TV were patently unfunny semi-butch comediennes and old Rock Hudson movies on the late-late-late show. Well, as the old saying goes, "Pioneers get arrows in the back, settlers get land." Meanwhile, up North the judges have essentially ruled-in gay marriage, while meanwhile in Massachusetts, unbeknownst to nearly everyoen I know, the Supreme Judicial Court is about to issue a ruling on gay marriage which may very well force the issue down here. And in an ironic twist on some age-old schisms, those wild Anglicans are close to electing a gay Bishop, at least now that he's been cleared of charges of acting like a Catholic.

And lest we forget, even in that benighted land known otherwise as Texas, they have decided to allow consenting adults to do what consenting adults do when sufficient amounts of Cosmopolitans and techno music are applied. And you know what? If they're beginning to allow it in Texas, it will soon be compulsory in public schools in Cambridge (make sure to scroll to the bottom of that page). Go ahead. Chuckle. Then make sure to read this. Then again, we do know what they're not requiring in Mass. schools--English grammar--at least not if you're a school superintendent.

But you know what? I don't want to talk about politics, I want to talk about something important: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

No one can argue that Boston-based Scout Productions hitched themselves onto this season's runaway hit. The ratings are so good that NBC has decided to air a full episode in the 10pm slot on August 14th, followed by an appearance of the "Fab 5" on the Tonight Show to makeover Jay Leno.

But all is not well in the Emerald Kingdom. One critic hissed, "Queer Eye is the single most shameless corporate tramp on television." But the more damning charge is that the show is simply "gay minstrelsy." (A mildly ironic term by the way, don't you think?).

Now, let it not go unsaid that Queer Eye does indeed play up stereotypes about gay people,

So you could be forgiven for thinking that everyone must be happy as little girls in springtime about the show, but it just ain't so.

One reviewer hissed, Indeed, even Sex and the City's Carey Bradshaw limited her shopping obsession to Manolo Blahniks, while the Queer Eyes could give Donald Trump's Amex card a hernia on a trip to a 7-11. With that kind of expense account, who wouldn't at least look better? At least on TLC's Junkyard Wars the contestants are limited to

Ding, Dong, the Bitch Is Dead

Every once in a while, we get to see the world, or some small part of it, as from the top of a great mountain peak. Rivers which seemed to wander aimlessly are seen progressing inexorably from lake to sea, valleys hidden from view lie open, and mountains which obscured distant horizons kneel at our feet. Below us the teeming masses think not even to look up, not imagining that beyond yonder clouds lies the precipice on which we stand. I had such a moment regarding the true depths of depravity in which Janet resides. And I alone am survived to tell you the tale...

As many of you are by now aware, "Janet" has moved in to her own condo, leaving me to find another roommate. Oh darn. So I've paid a month's rent on an empty pink room, big fucking deal! It's been entirelirely worth it to be free of her haunting presence. Living with her actually reminded me of one of the less pleasant experiences of my childhood, when my mother had announced her intention to divorce my father but continued to live in the same house--for several years. Save the occasional straiend "hello" they barely spoke, and passed each other in the hallways like ghosts on different wavelengths. And people wondered why it was me who wanted to go to boarding school!

Anyway, before moving out, dear old Janet had one last good suprise in store.... I was sitting on the couch watching some show, and Mr Wiggles came up and started pawing at me quite eagerly. "Geez, what's up with Mr. Wiggles," said Janet. "Hey, you know us guys just have to stick together," I replied. Janet giggled a little and said, "yeah, guess so... except that Mr Wiggles is actually she."

We interrupt this blog for an announcement from the Boston Mental Asylum. This girl is, as the French would say, "nucking futs." My hands are now washed clean, the spot is out. Hallelujah!