Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I believe that if there is a god then no one is rejected by that god. I don’t believe that the acceptance of any creed or profession of any particular faith is required by this god. I believe that if there is a heaven or an afterlife of some kind, then it is for everyone, no matter what they’ve done or what they believed or say they believed. I don’t want to belong to some small club of people who set themselves apart and huddle together in a little alcove where they tell one another they are the special ones, or the chosen ones, or the enlightened ones. If there is a spiritual dimension to life, then I like to think that the entire universe is my clubhouse and that everyone and everything are my fellow travelers in this spiritual realm.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Hope

Not long ago I ran across a picture of a couple of gay boys at the mall. (I think I may have posted the picture on my blog.) They were in their late teens, but they looked like they were still young enough to be living at home--maybe 16 or 17. They were in the middle of a store, and one was down on bended knee offering a promise ring to the other. The boy offering the ring was promising to be faithful while they are together. They were both very happy, and they apparently weren’t worried about what the other people in the store would think. They didn’t seem to be worried that someone from school would see them. They didn’t seem to be worried that one of their parents’ friends might be in the store and tell their parents that their son has a boyfriend. It was so sweet. And these were obviously gay boys, too. Not jocks or football players. They were the type of gay boys that in the past had to play it very cool and keep their heads down or they could have become the targets of intense bullying. But the boys in the picture didn’t seem to be concerned with that.

Judging by their clothes, their shopping bags, and the store they were in, I would say that they come from affluent families. Their parents are probably well-educated professionals. And they probably live in an upper middle class suburb of a liberal metro area. Obviously not all kids have it so lucky. But it’s a start. A scene like that would have been unthinkable when I was a teenager. Maybe one day even country boys in West Virginia will be able to give their boyfriends promise rings in the school cafeteria. As well as look forward to living openly with a man they love, bringing him home for Christmas dinner, raising kids with him, growing old with him, and all the while being treated like valued members of the community.



The End Of Christianity?

The other day the Pope admonished the people of France that marriage equality would threaten family and society. This is a man who lives in a palace, expects to be treated like an emperor and runs his church like it’s still the 15th century. He tells the people of Africa that it’s a sin for them to use condoms as AIDS sweeps over the continent like wildfire. And he tells the nuns of America to stop helping the poor so much and start screaming about homosexuality, birth control and abortion. Meanwhile Liberty University, the school founded by the supposedly family values loving Rev. Jerry Falwell, wants to give Donald Trump an honorary degree. Last spring Anne Graham Lotz--daughter of “America’s pastor” Billy Graham--told the people of North Carolina in effect that her god would smite them if they didn’t vote for that state’s hate on the gays constitutional amendment. And every day a huge parade of nuts and loons take to the airwaves and internet with their tortured combovers and garish costumes to preach vile, hateful insanity in the name of Jesus…and they all have their hands out. “Gi’ me! Gi’ me! Gi’ me!” Those who have not been suckered in by their message look on at all of this and see a giant freak show. It’s like a scary, evil circus and the so-called leaders come off as carnival hucksters and conmen. There is no message of love, compassion or hope. It’s all about fear, and greed, and the desire for political power.

I know that these people do not represent all Christians. I know that many Christians are turned off by the freak show. And some do their best to stand up against the message of hate and offer something different. But it seems most just don’t care enough to shout down the shouters. When are we going to see these money sucking whores and fear-driven haters denounced in no uncertain terms by the multitudes who see Christianity in a different light? Are they even out there? Many in Europe have already given up on Christianity, and a large percentage of America’s youth have turned their backs on Christianity, too. I think it will eventually be the same all over the world. Religions die. Religions have been dying since the beginning of civilization. And it seems to me that Christianity is on its deathbed, and a whole bunch of people who claim to represent it have shoved a pillow over its face to hasten the end.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Albert, The Overlook's Boiler Boy












































Albert was in charge of tending to the boiler at the Overlood Hotel back in the ‘30s, and one night a United States Senator had his way with Albert in one of the guest rooms. He also promised Albert that he would take him back to Washington, set him up in an apartment and send him to law school. Albert had a good time even though the Senator wasn’t exactly the young man’s type. Most of the men Albert had been with up until that point were farmhands and cowboys his own age. He had never made it with one of the swells who stayed at the Overlook before, but the Senator really charmed him, and he convinced Albert that all of his dreams were about to come true.

The next day when Albert saw that the Senator was checking out of the hotel without so much as saying goodbye to him, he confronted the Senator. He was so upset that he accidentally implied right in the lobby of the Overlook, with a number of guests looking on, that he and the Senator were lovers. The Senator’s expression turned to stone and he accused Albert of lying and trying to extort money from him. He told the manager that he should fire Albert at once.

The manager herded the furious young man into his office and demanded an explanation. Albert insisted that the Senator promised to pay to further his education and improve his prospects. The manager informed Albert that the Senator could destroy the Overlook’s reputation and that he would have to let him go. He went on to say that if anyone asked about Albert, he would be forced to say that he was a blackmailer, or a homosexual prostitute or possibly both.

Albert hanged himself in room 237 moments later. 237 was the room where the Senator used Albert and tricked him into believing that he was special, that he was loved and that someone was finally going to look after him.

Model and photographer unknown.
Fictional short story by Gary Cottle.


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Shamed for liking boys.

I knew I was gay when I was 11, and when I was about 12, I invited a boy who lived near me to spend the night. When we were in my room getting ready for bed, I did a little striptease for the boy. I wanted him to like me, and I wanted that kind of attention from him. My father must have heard our giggles and thought that something was up, so he came into my room without knocking, and he caught me standing there in front of the boy completely naked. I’ll never forget the look on his face. He was shocked, disgusted and disappointed. Without saying a word, he shut the door. I was so humiliated. I never felt so ashamed or so worthless.

If that’s all there was to it, it would have been enough to haunt me until the end of my days. But later that night, my father told my sister what had happened. My sister is three years older than me, and at 15, her sibling rivalry was still in high gear. She teased me relentlessly, and she did so regularly for several years.

My sexual feelings at that age were tender and delicate. I had no one to talk to about them. I couldn’t even engage in the rude, explicit talk with other boys because I liked boys. I felt so vulnerable and alone. I didn’t feel like I could trust anybody enough to tell them what I was thinking about boys, least of all my family. And when my father caught a quick glimpse of the private feelings I had been working so hard to hide from him, he confirmed my worst nightmare. And then let my sister in on it so she could mercilessly bully me.

It was like the two of them together were ripping into me like wild animals. And my self-esteem was so low, I couldn’t even find the will to be angry with them. For years, all the way up until I was in my late thirties, just recalling that incident would cause me to blush so much it felt like my face and whole body were on fire.

I was given the impression that my sexual desires were funny, and strange and embarrassing, and that there was something wrong with me, and that I was different, and that not only would no one ever return those feelings but that if anyone ever found out, they would mock me and ridicule me, exclude me, abuse me, and reject me.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Single

I’m 46--almost 47--and I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never even been on a proper date. I have, however, been in love, but I elected not to tell the young man I was in love with. I didn’t even tell him I was gay. And eventually he moved away and married a girl. At this point, I’m not sure I would want to have a relationship. I’m very much a loner, and I’m very independent. But I think I would have loved to have had a boyfriend when I was younger, and if I had, that may have changed the direction of my life.

The way I see it no one owes me a relationship. The fact that I wasn’t able to date when I was younger is in part, probably a large part, because of the homophobic culture in which I lived. However, I did meet some young men that I liked. Some of them were gay or bi. Some of them I’m not sure about, including the one I fell in love with. But I was very cautious, and I also thought of myself as unlovable, so I never pursued any of these guys. I never consciously let them know I was interested in them romantically.

I’m a very difficult person to get close to. I recognize that. I recognize the fact that I have played a part in the way my life has turned out. I also recognize that luck has a hand in the way things have turned out, too. What if I had went to work at KFC at sixteen rather than McDonald’s? What if I had went to the University of North Carolina rather than WVU? I may have met someone. I may have had my boyfriend. And if so, I might still be with him. Who knows?

I just don’t buy the idea that gay or bi men are generally self-centered, self-serving, untrustworthy scum because none of them have beat a path to my door to give me their hand in marriage and offered me just the kind of life and relationship I want. If they all pass me by, that is their right, and it’s not like I’ve put out the welcome sign.

Monday, September 17, 2012

You will be missed.

Most everyone would adjust and carry on with their lives. That’s what we do. We can’t stop living just because we lose someone close to us. People lose husbands and wives. They lose boyfriends and girlfriends, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters and dearest friends. But we go on working, and sleeping, and showering, eating, sipping tea, chatting, telling jokes, following the news, watching movies, reading books and planning vacations. And we don’t feel guilty about it because we know that if we were the one who was lost, we’d want those left behind to go on living. But that isn’t to say that we don’t miss the ones who are lost. We miss them, and one day you will be missed. You will be missed a lot in the beginning, and then now and then for years to come. Finally some elderly person who knew you back in the day will think of you and tears will well up in her eyes, and her grandchild will ask what is wrong, and she’ll tell the kid that she was just thinking of someone she knew a long time ago and then she’ll offer to drive the kid to the movies, or the park or the mall.



Friday, September 7, 2012

I Piss On Your Natural Law

St. Thomas Aquinas was an interesting person, and no doubt very important in regards to the development of Western philosophy, but those who think that simply alluding to him by mentioning “Natural Law” is some kind of showstopper and that they have unequivocally proved their point should have a look at his Prime Mover argument which supposedly was proof for the existence of God. He knocked their socks off with that one in the thirteenth century. Now, not so much.

Natural Law, that what’s used to claim the only logical sex is procreative sex with your opposite sex spouse and that masturbation and homo sex are violations of the supposed intended purpose of our sex parts, right? Sounds to me like those who make such arguments probably don’t fully understand human sexuality and that they want to keep it limited in scope so they can pretend they get it. (Or perhaps they just like moralizing and passing judgment.) Well, they can limit their own sexuality in any way they see fit, but if they want to limit others, they better have a damn good reason, and some vague reference to “Natural Law” or a 13th century philosopher isn’t a very good reason in my view. And no, it is not a foregone conclusion that the purpose of our sexuality is limited to procreation. Simply to say that there is some kind of intrinsic purpose and that going against that purpose is immoral is to make all kinds of unsubstantiated assumptions about the world we live in.

In any even, I wonder what old Thomas would say about sexuality if he was around now and had access to contemporary scientific data. What would he say if he knew that masturbation was almost universal and that homosexuality was prevalent in many species? What would he say if he understood sexual orientation?


I’m so sick of human beings trying to make other human beings feel guilty about their sexual feelings and behavior. I don’t think feelings are bad in and of themselves. And I think behavior is wrong only when the behavior leads to harm. Can I prove my beliefs and ideas are correct? Probably not unequivocally. Most of the time I feel like I’m just flying by the seat of my pants, and that’s okay with me. I can imagine making some horrible mistake that I’ll regret forever, but that just seems like the risk you take by being alive and having an influence on the world around you. I do the best I can, except when I don’t. I know I’m a bundle of contradictions. I know that I can sometimes act selfishly and compulsively, and sometimes stupidly. But it’s my life to live, and I’ve not seen a supposedly airtight absolutist system yet that provided for airtight, absolutely good results.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

AYN RAND & THE PROPHECY OF ATLAS SHRUGGED - Official Film Trailer




Ayn Rand came of age during the Russian Revolution. At age 12, she saw her father’s business taken from him, and I am sure this profoundly shaped her worldview.

I grew up in West Virginia. It would not be unfair to describe the history of West Virginia as a tragedy. Back when the Communists were taking everything Rand’s family had away from them, many of the people of West Virginia were being exploited by the owners and operators of coal mines. Miners worked long hours for little money in dangerous conditions, and because they were so poor, the coal companies were the only ones who would give them credit, so the miners ended up renting their homes from the company, and buying their food and supplies from the company store. Because living expenses exceeded what most of the miners earned, many of the miners were deeply in debt to the companies they worked for. And some of the coal companies didn’t even pay real money. They paid the miners something called script. You could only use the script issued by a coal company to buy goods and services offered by that coal company.

Before miners were unionized and before laws were put into place to protect the workers, the coal companies basically owned their employees. Even to this day, you can go to West Virginia and see the effects this had on the culture and people of that state. Poor living conditions and a lack of hope that gets past on from one generation to the next has drained entire families of ambition and even the simple desire to get ahead. Many of the kids of these poor families don’t try very hard in school, and their parents don’t push them to try because they don’t see the point of it. They don’t try to better themselves because they don’t believe they will be allowed to succeed. There is a kind of pained weariness in the eyes of many people in West Virginia. For them, even dreams are too expensive. And they know that hard work is not always rewarded. You can kill yourself with hard work and still end up without a penny to your name. Around every corner you’ll find poverty and fatalism. And you’ll also find a great deal of Christian fundamentalism, too.

I was a gay boy who grew up in this environment. So like Rand, I am interested in protecting and promoting individuality. I think people should be free to be who they are and to pursue their individual dreams. But unlike Rand, I don’t think the only thing standing in the way of the individual is big government. That is way too simplistic, and she ignores what happens when the rich are allowed to treat their employees as they please. And most people who are rich were born rich. Many don’t produce anything. And many rich people who do work and earn money started off on third base. The idea that many or most who have money earned it fair and square with hard work is infuriatingly dumb. And the idea that regulation only serves to hamper these heroic figures from going out and making their dreams comes true is dumb.

Conservatives like to wave Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged around. Some of them thump on it like Christianists thump on the Bible. I’d take their claim that they’re all for the individual more seriously if they didn’t get into bed with the Christianists. Like I said, I grew up gay in West Virginia, a place where you’ll find a lot of fundamentalism, so I know those people do not champion the individual. They want to control every aspect of a persons life, not just how they run their business. So I’ll take the “collectivism” of the so-called socialists any day of the week, and twice on Sunday, over the “collectivism” of the religious right.

Conservatives want to get big government out of my way so I can be free? What a joke that is. I would laugh if it wasn’t so contemptible and insulting. Ayn Rand’s silly novel is just another book used and cherry picked by those who want to walk all over people like me. Those who go around spitting out the dogma they found in Atlas Shrugged are pimping out Rand like their Bible-thumping brethren in the Republican party pimp out Jesus.

There were actually Rand enthusiasts in this documentary who blamed the meltdown of the financial system and the housing market on regulation. I don’t know exactly what regulations they were complaining about, but, in any event, regulations are not all equal. There are some good ones and some bad ones, and you have to constantly monitor them to see which ones are working, which ones aren’t, and which ones aren’t working anymore due to changing conditions. And I also know that banks wouldn’t have made the kind of loans they were a few years ago if the regulations that were in place when my father was a banker thirty years ago still applied. So it was primarily deregulation of the industry that lead to the meltdown, and that’s some really fancy footwork to try to get people to believe that if only Uncle Sam had stopped hanging over the shoulders of all those poor, put upon bankers, they wouldn’t have made all those crazy loans, and then traded them with other banks, and insured them multiple times so that they’d actually make money if the borrower defaulted, which only gave them incentive to make bad loans. Too much regulation did that? Please. It was a crash that someone should have seen coming, such as federal bank examiners, but they had been kicked out of the room. This is what you get when you deregulate.

I remember seeing Rand a few times on Phil Donahue’s show. She was always supper arrogant and condescending. And there was a clip in the documentary that showed her remarking on how smart she thought she was. But I don’t think being a pigheaded extremist who takes a simple idea and exaggerates it to the point of absurdity, and dismisses any and all evidence that might soften your beliefs is all that smart.

She talked about peoples' “rational self-interest”, but she ignores the fact that if this country became the dog-eat-dog society that she advocated, it would create the exact same conditions that lead to the Russian Revolution and to the financial ruin of her family. The Russian people who joined the Communists were acting in their “rational self-interest.” They knew they were getting screwed, and they went out and tried to do something about it. If everyone had a nice, middle class life like Rand’s family, they wouldn’t have bothered. But Rand’s philosophy seems to be based on the idea that the revolutionaries were just a bunch of layabouts who wanted something for nothing.

A lot of these Rand people say that if you’re down on your luck, you should simply rely on private charity or churches, and if people didn’t have to pay so much of their income in taxes, they would have more to give. I can just imagine how that would work. In many cases, you’d have to ingratiate yourself to the givers in some way. And many would be kicked aside like an old shoe.

Thankfully I didn’t have to rely on private charity when I had my head surgeries. The two of them together cost nearly $100,000. (It’d probably cost twice that now.) I was an unemployed gay man with post traumatic stress disorder and social phobia who was just diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the Rand folks think I should have went around with a cup in hand to all the fundamentalist churches and asked for donations. The horrors. I can only imagine what my “rational self-interest” would have led me to do in that situation.

          

Longing

It's been my experience that longing can be a pleasure in and of itself. It does not have to be satisfied. Maybe it can't be truly satisfied. That intense desire to reach out and touch that which I find beautiful, precious, sweet makes me feel alive. I feel dead on the inside when I'm depressed, and depression can be described as the absense of desire. So I appreciate the longing, even if I can't have what I want. And I appreciate the objects of my desires. Just knowing that these sweet and beutiful creatures are out there, and that I may catch a glimpse of them from time to time... I want to keep going because of them. I want to remain in this world because they are in it.