On the Importance of Being A Gay Comedian.
A question I’ve been asking myself timidly this morning as I prepare to go back to real life: how the fuck do I be funny after all of this? I’ve always prided myself on being explicitly and aggressively gay on stage. I wear the “gay comedian” label with pride in the same way I do faggot — I know you’re likely (or in the case of the latter, definitely) trying to say something hurtful, but all I hear is “better at art.”
But now, as I’m getting ready for another week of shows, I have to ask, how the fuck do I confidently and with any joy at all espouse my gay agenda when the largest mass shooting in our country’s history just happened in one of our spaces? When a man was arrested yesterday for trying to blow up our pride parade? Everything I have to say about being single now suddenly seems so fucking crass.
But, at the risk of deploying ye old “don’t let the terrorists win” modus operandi after these sorts of tragedies, I realize I don’t really give a fuck. Being gay is still awesome. Some might argue it’s no better or worse than being straight, but those people are dumb and wrong because being gay (trans, bi, queer, what have you) is the best decision you’ll ever make (wink). And no matter how many of us you kill, there will always be a fag to pop up on a stage or in a book or in a warehouse somewhere flinging paint at horse genitalia while some twink films the whole thing — however their art manifests, they’ll be there to explain in no uncertain terms that we love this life no matter how much you hate it.
And a quick note to the respectability politics set. You who told us the fight for marriage equality would only be won if we calmed down “with all that” or who have taken the time after my own shows to tell me that I’m hurting the community by being a stereotype or who just generally believe that if we were just a little closer to normal, if we all acted a little more straight, they’d finally accept us.
Well, to quote the great gay philosopher Emma Frost, “they will always hate us.” 50 people died two nights ago because a madman with a gun saw two men kissing, the absolute bottom of the barrel in terms of public displays of perversion. It’s not our promiscuity, our Folsom Street Fairs, our swish or our camp that they hate. They hate us, deep down. And hiding is not going to scare them away.
Be whatever kind of queer you want, but don’t try to turn the volume down on my faggotry because you’re afraid of how that might reflect on you. No ma’am. I won’t ask you turn yours up, but for the love of God have some pride. Remember how important Pride is.
