My Eight and 1/2 Inches.
In the esoteric parlance of columning, "inches" refers to how long a columnist's column tends to be. For Celebrity I Saw U, my weekly extravaganza of celebritology and pop-culturalia, The Stranger allows a healthy (if merely average) 6 inches. Although it's often repeated that the virtue lies not in how many but how well one uses one's inches, several more seem necessary to fully satisfy me. Roughly eight and ½ more. These, as it were, are they...
So You’re Gay and Going to College
Fuck Shit Up, Girl!
This is it, fruitcake! SWEET FREEDOM! The moment you and your twisted libido have been slavering for since the day you popped that first bobbing boner in the 8th grade gym showers (or something queerly similar) and realized, “Holy hand-balling ass hamsters! I’m a turdpounder!” (or something queerly similar). COLLEGE! Land of sweet reckless privilege! This is your big chance to wax as vivid and ripe as the great big fruit that you are. And, of course, to drink. And drink. And, most importantly, to drink. And to sodomize your freaking brains out. Splendid!
But wait! There are some crucial points you must grasp before you dive headfirst into the cesspool of undergrad sodomy, and not all of them are the emergency 24-hour STD hotline number at Student Health. Pay attention!
You, the college-bound queers of Y2K’06, stand at the terrible threshold of great gay change. Much is demanded of you. Not long ago, I simply would have advised you to dance, drink, fuck, wear condoms, wear condoms, wear condoms and wear condoms. But this is no longer sufficient. If a thing is to survive, it must adapt, evolve, and reapply its lipstick occasionally, and that goes quadruple for Godless queerdom. But luckily, Godless queers are genetically progressive and biologically cutting edge, so the process should be an effeminate triple snap, snap, snap! Right?
WRONG! Change is inevitable, but evolution isn’t. The spirit of the liberal gay 90’s is now a lachrymose ghost. Many nascent homos feel as if they’ve been left wandering map-less through the anxious identity crisis that is queer life in a Bush-wrecked world of vaguely antagonistic straight men who’ve extensively explored the forbidden pleasures of the prostate and pluck their fucking eyebrows----and/or endlessly smashed “straight” girls always cunning each other’s linguses. “Gay” sensibilities have been absorbed by the masses, and much worse, gay political power has evaporated.
Many queers--- nascent and otherwise---have responded by shrugging their shoulders and devolving into a repulsive kind of mediocrity: a sloppy and sociopolitically apathetic depression. The smart, engaged, politically vigilant, meth-free homosexual seems a fossilized beast from an ancient era: a remnant of a Bush-less past. Don’t let this happen to you!
Wise and terrible evolutionary forces conspired for untold eons to make you queer. You hold a unique position in the evolutionary process! The transformative powers of the homosexual are unparalleled, and College is THE quintessential time for you to grasp this power with both gay hands and aim it like a laser cannon at the forces that would subdue us! It’s up to YOU, young faggot, young dyke, and nobody else! YOU must be smarter, prettier, feistier, more creative, more incisive, more gloriously depraved, more intolerant of George W. Bushes of every sort, more focused, more united and politically vigilant than any queers in history have ever had to be! Your responsibility is no less than to save the fucking world---with a three-day hangover, a boner, finals pending, and flair. It’s just the card you drew.
Welcome to college, faggot! We’re all counting on you! Wear condoms.
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