I'm always appreciative of those who make it their business to bring an understanding of what motivates homosexual men. I remember once when I was just starting a new job, and had to take a urinalysis before hiring, I was sitting in a waiting room, looking at magazines. One such mag had a Q&A forum for various topics and one of the questions brought up was "Why do homosexuals make such a big deal about coming out? My husband and I don't feel the need to announce to the world that we're heterosexual, so why is it so important to homosexuals?"

You know, I honestly never thought about that until then, but the answer was good. It simply explained that since heterosexuality was considered the norm and not under condemnation of religious institutions, it is considered a major step to openly declare yourself as gay.

A heterosexual can hold hands -- even kiss -- in public without anyone giving them a second look. But homosexuals have to prepared to deal with any reaction should they do such a thing. Heterosexual men can meet someone in a casual setting and non-chalantly mention the wife and kids, but homosexuals, in the interest of not being harassed (or worse), must test the environmental weather before they decide to do the same.

Thinking of it in this manner, it becomes little wonder that gay men are often described as "sensitive." We need to be. We need to be sensitive to the feelings and attitudes of those around us to determine what's safe to talk about and what isn't.

But enough rambling from me. Lena? Amy? Peggy C? My staunch allies on the "Great Gay Marriage Debate," the longest running topic on Amy's blog, care to jump in? And let's not forget our beloved Crid, who is the REASON that the four of us were able to keep that thread going for so long. Love you all, dear ones.

Hey Patrick. Love you too.

I'm a fallen Irish Catholic who has nevertheless been living out a lot of the Irish Catholic sensibility since the age of 14. (This isn't such a bad thing. My father has a great Irish Catholic sense of humor, and I adore him for it.)

Before my fall from grace, I spent a good deal of time confessing to priests. And sometime after the fall, I was fortunate to discover Foucault's work on how the concept of "sexuality" has caused us to police our bodies and our selves in ways that religion never could. Thanks to dearly departed Michel, I've always been more than a little resentful of the fact that our fucking and sucking is supposed to be so meaningful and revealing of who we "really are." Fuck you all.

I don't confess to people that I'm gay in the name of political liberation or radical honesty, because it reeks of the Catholic confessional mode to me. What is there to confess to anyone? The sight of priests gets me sick, unless they're sliding their lips down my shaft (which is often enough). I tend to mention boyfriends casually to co-workers, or I quickly and nonchalantly tell them that I'm gay if they ask me about my marital status. If they try to pry into the deep meaningfulness of it all, I do my best to mention cocksucking, rimming, and deeply penetrating acts of sodomy as soon as I possibly can.

I like to talk, fuck, and read difficult books, and I prefer the company of articulate, horny, and well-read men and women with similar interests. The cultural elite has more important things to think about than the right to marry.

Signed,
Lena Cuisina