Twelve years ago, in a guest column for the L.A. Times, I opined,
The gay movement hasn’t matured; it’s grown stale. Pride marches have turned into shopworn cavalcades of been-there, done-that decadence.
It was an unpopular opinion then and, to some, questioning queer tradition could only mean one thing:
When I initially called him self loathing, it was a strong observation based on how much he hates the gay community for everything it represents, even though he considers himself a part of it.
Make way for another “hater”:
Yet once again L.A. Pride will bring out the go-go boys and cock rings, will be partly underwritten by liquor companies, and will celebrate stereotypes and outdated notions of what it means to be gay.
And then we’ll wonder why certain straight folks don’t take us seriously or think we’re stuck in some kind of “Peter Pan syndrome” — and we’ll cry bloody murder when we’re treated poorly.
Well, as the old saying goes, if you don’t want to be treated like a slut, don’t act and look like one.