Gay Pride: Is There Really A Point Anymore?

In his Daily Maverick Opinionista column, Simon Williamson asks the question that every June (LGBT Pride Month) is asked in the LGBT community & media, ‘has the time for Pride celebrations perhaps passed?’ The thrust of the argument in general is that we are now in a ‘post gay era,’ an era where one’s sexual orientation is of no importance, where ‘strategic essentialism,’ to deliberately and with purpose, separate oneself from society is no longer necessary. I must admit, this is an argument I could easily see myself agreeing with.

As Simon points out, one could argue that perhaps some prejudices and discriminatory ideas around homosexuals continue as a result of the gay community separating itself from society. That is a not an easy proposition to accept as the aim of strategic essentialism is to forward the primary gay cause, acceptance. However, no matter how difficult, it is one that must be accepted as a distinct possibility. Despite the allure of that argument, I would have to disagree and argue that; the world over, and South Africa in particular; there is still a place for strategic essentialism.

The fight for rights by minorities or any other oppressed group is never truly complete. If the undergraduate analysis can be excused, power relations in society can be said to be static, and if at all fluid, are painstakingly slow to change. A case in point is the struggle for women’s rights. Though things have undeniably advanced a century after the first wave of feminism (the fight for women’s political rights), equally undeniable is that power relations between men and women are still skewed to the former. Essentially, there is still much work being done by women’s groups to both protect and further advance the women’s cause.

Gay rights in relation, particularly gay rights in South Africa, can barely be said to be nascent and thus their protection and advancement is of utmost importance. Across the world, it is generally within particular spaces and even then so, within particular sectors of society that ‘post-gay’ is a reality. The case for South Africa is even more extreme. Most of South Africa’s LBGT individuals (as Simon points out by mentioning the horror of corrective rape) are far removed from the life promised by our progressive constitution. Yet, as with much of South Africa there’s a stark disconnect; to those of us who are gay and live relatively affluent lives in urban areas, where the notion of overt & extreme homophobia is practically foreign, we can enjoy these rights.

Despite this, we cannot be complacent, the reality is homophobic attitudes in South Africa are the prevalent opinion on gay rights. Lest we forget, our very own President stated, gay marriages were “a disgrace to the nation and to God” and that “When I was growing up, an ‘ungqigili,’ (a homosexual) would not have stood in front of me, I would knock him out.” Whilst this statement cannot be taken as irrefutable proof of malicious intent and disregard for constitutional rights afforded to the LGBT community; that statement in conjunction with the less than accepting attitude of the majority of South Africans towards gay rights goes to show the protection of these rights is of paramount importance.

To return to the point I opened with, Simon cannot be faulted with pointing out that strategic essentialism, conceivably is self-defeating. To this though, I would say strategic essentialism is only one element of the gay rights movement, the radical element. However, as the history of minority rights movements shows one needs both the radical and the more mainstream elements for there to be progress in the fight for rights, and protection for those won.

For every Andrea Dworkin who turned off so many to the Feminist cause with her militant positions & aggressive posturing, there must be a Gloria Steinem to temper those positions and postures making them acceptable within society as a whole. For every Martin Luther King Jr. who brought the American civil rights movement into the mainstream of popular political thought & culture, there must be a Malcolm X to test the limits and push the boundaries when moderation of positions turns to appeasement of the powers that be. With the gay rights movement, it is no different. For those of us who already enjoy these rights and for those who are still to benefit from them, no matter what possible alienation it may cause, the radicalism of strategic essentialism is integral to the protection and advancement of these rights.

This post was originally posted on "That's How It Is"

Football, It’s Been Fun, But We Need To Talk…

To say I’ve never been a football fan, wouldn’t be sufficient. In fact, it would require a whole new word as ‘understatement’ just wouldn’t suffice. However, like every other South African, since June 11th I have fallen for football big time, and boy have I had it bad. Flush with the excitement of the World Cup, a part of me began to think, ‘You know what Mvelase, maybe you’ve been wrong about football all these years. This just may be the start of a beautiful sporting relationship,” and like the start of any relationship, it was beautiful.

Football flirted with me in that opening match, with the brilliance of Siphiwe Tshabalala’s opening goal, the brilliance of Itumeleng Khune and finally the heartbreaking Mexican equaliser all presaged by the pride-inducing beauty of the opening ceremony. As an act of seduction, football couldn’t have done better than that… I was a bit liquored up, it showed me the best of what it could be; how could I not fall for it?

I was so enamoured by my new discovery that I allowed friends to attempt to convince why I should support their teams in the European leagues. As my family is split down the middle on this one, I allowed both parents equal opportunity to convince me of why I should support Pirates or Chiefs. I’ll admit it, I even thought perhaps I’d give Wimbledon a miss this year and stick with the football. Those days were the best, I basked in love’s first blush, but, oh how quickly things have soured…

As is oft done in relationships, I chose to ignore those initial signs. Those markers that maybe all is not as wonderful as you want to believe it to be. I chose to ignore the numerous inexplicable decisions which were made by the refs, decisions that even a novice me could see were wrong. I thought, perhaps this was what football was meant to be like, I may not have liked it, but I could live with it. But it was too late, that small seed of doubt had been planted in my mind, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t.

Then England v. Germany & Mexico v. Argentina happened… Video replay. Need I say more?

Those matches only reinforced what I already knew. Wimbledon had started a week before and the speed with which I ran back to tennis could rival the speed at which a football player previously writhing in life threatening pain gets up when seeing the referee isn’t buying his ‘injury.’ As I tweeted after Ghana was cheated out of a semi-final spot by Luis Suarez, “The more I watch football, the more I realise this sport’s just not for me… I can’t handle this kinda stress.” Angrily-tweeting and ranting to anyone close enough to hear my threats of blue murder against Suarez, I suddenly realised what my issue with football is.


It’s not an issue of being on the losing side. Loss I can handle, I’m a Roger Federer and a Ferrari fan. In both sports, I have had to take a humbling master-class in how to handle loss after having always been on the winning side. The issue I have with football, is that quite often, too often, one feels a justified sense of rage and anger at a loss, because, to quote myself again, ‘we was robbed.’ Football’s very own Dark Overlord, Imperator Sepp Blatter, finds these egregious errors add a ‘charming human element to the game.’ I know the Imperator is somewhat preoccupied counting the billions the Empire of FIFA’s gotten from their South African adventure and refining his confidence tricks to get even more out of Brazil in 2014, but I and millions others, find these moments less ‘charming’ & more ‘infuriating.’ With an attitude like that from the administrators of football, I suddenly began to get something of a modicum of understanding for football hooligans, for what is a ‘football hooligan,’ if nothing more than an enraged fan, and was I not that?

And that’s where I realised I had to stop.

When one is suddenly seeing the world from the paradigm of boorish thugs, one must stop and evaluate how it is they ended up in that position. I had tried my utmost to ignore the less attractive parts of this beautiful game, and the beautiful game, I will now admit, it is, but there is only so much one can take. This was not to be a lifelong love. This was a month long mistake, Football was that boyfriend you look back on and think, “But what was I thinking?”

However, I am someone who likes to finish what they have started, and I will watch the World Cup to its conclusion. Till the 11th of July I will watch the games and cheer for some or other team to take the cup (let it be Argentina). But even before the euphoria has died down, before Imperator Blatter flies off while we’re still too happy to notice we’ve been fleeced, I will kick football and everything it brought into my life out on the kerb. As beautiful as this game is, my nerves cannot handle the stress of this game.

Even with the most disastrous of flings, one wants a memento. So, though ‘I will kick football and everything it brought into my life out on the kerb’ the vuvuzela, I’ll keep…

“Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones, But Words Will Never Hurt Me”

Who could’ve known that one Facebook group, started by a bunch of college students in the US could cause such a furore, but that is exactly what happened when the group, ‘Draw Mohammed Day,’ was opened. Many have pointed to the initial aim behind ‘Draw Mohammed Day;’ a reaction to the intimadatory reaction (I know, ridiculous isn’t it) of certain groups to South Parks plan to depict the Prophet Muhammed in an episode (the episode was ultimately censored). I concede and agree that the motivation behind the original idea was wrong. To group everyday Muslims, our friends and neighbours, with the extremist fringe elements is patently wrong and has a displeasing odour of Islamophobia to it. However, as most things that go viral on the internet, the original idea was altered if not ultimately lost. In fact, in the vociferous debate that raged on Twitter this morning (which led me to write this post), I only saw one person arguing the same point that the originators of “Draw Mohammed Day” were making. For most, this became a question on Freedom of Speech, censorship, be it self-censorship or censorship by others. Ultimately, the question many debated was, what, if any limits, should be placed on freedom of expression.

Funny, it’s very rare, if ever that you’ll meet a single person who is a believer in democracy who’ll happily say, ‘oh freedom of expression, I only sorta kinda believe in it.’ Yet you talk to many people, many of whom would profess to be ‘liberal’ or ‘progressive’ and you take just one swipe at their support for it, and that is exactly what you’ll find, a wishy-washy half-arsed support for a cornerstone of democracy. From me, those are rather harsh words.

However as much as these views irk me I certainly understand them, mainly for the reason that I used to hold the very same opinion. The primary reasoning behind these views (particularly in the spectre of the “Draw Mohammed Day”) is why should we offend? Why should we not respect the views, opinions and sensibilities of others, let us live and let live. Those seem like very reasonable arguments, until you take them to their very possible conclusions. For the question must be asked, where do we draw the line? If we choose to or legislate against the drawing of the Prophet Muhammed, because it offends Muslims, perhaps the Catholics should call for commentary on the Pope or the numerous Roman-Catholic Church policies to be stopped because it offends their sensibilities.

But let’s bring this closer to home. Certain members of the ANC have called for there to be laws protecting the integrity of the President/Presidency (the two are one in the same for them) or some such malarkey. Well some of the comments directed at Jacob Zuma have been little more than nasty insults directed at him, a recent one that comes to mind is a comment that equated him to a ‘porn-star’ or of course the classic piece of gutter-journalism on Jacob Zuma, that Daily Mail piece. These comments are offensive not just to Zuma, but arguably many other South Africans who believe a man of his stature ought to afforded a certain modicum of respect. If these comments are offensive to so many, drawing from the original argument ought they not to be stopped? One would? I’d say yes. Sure, they may not be expressed in the most eloquent of manners but political views they still are, and if those offensive views are suppressed, why not those of Ferial Haffajee, Mondli Makhanya, Justice Malala, yours or mine.

Ultimately, the reason I support “Draw Mohammed Day” is not because I want to ‘teach those Muslims a lesson or two,’ but rather because to be against it, for me, would be taking a first step down a very slippery slope. I fear where such bans would lead us to, a state where there would be no debate, no discussion, no dissention. Why? Because we all decided that being offensive was wrong and should be stopped. Yes ‘Draw Mohammed Day,’ is offensive, but as far as I’m concerned, offend away. Offend me as much as you want, I will object to it to you, but I will never cry to the state to make you stop.

To quote comedian Steve Hughes: “When did sticks and stones stop being relevant? Isn’t that what you teach children for gods sakes? You’re offended? You’re an adult, grow up deal with it!”

E-Mail To Malawi's High Commission

It is with great sadness and regret that I note the conviction of Tiwonge Chimbalanga and Steven Monjeza by magistrate Nyakwawa Usiwa Usiwa for merely being in love.

A few years ago I went on holiday to Malawi and it was a wonderful few weeks I spent there. I have always spoken highly of the warmth and love of your people and your country. But after this, I can no longer do that.

Your constitution, in much the same way that South Africa's does, expressly prohibits discrimination, yet your leaders have yet to speak up against this ruling or speak to your people on homophobia. This silence can only be seen as a tacit agreement with this odious view.

These laws being applied are a horrendous hangover from our colonial days, and as a fellow African, I can only hang my head in shame as further invective and vitriol is hurled at our continent and us as a people for being "backwards" for what can one say to that when our attitudes show just that.

Cordially,
Mvelase Peppetta

The 3rd & Final Leaders Debate: My Take

Last night saw the 3^rd and final debate in the run-up to the British polls last night between the top 3 party’s leaders, Nick Clegg for the Liberal Democrats, David Cameron of the Conservative Party and embattled incumbent, Gordon Brown for Labour. The general topic was the economy and much to my surprise I have to say I found it to be a rather entertaining and stimulating exchange.

I really had no idea what to expect when the debate started, sure I had read the articles on the first two debates which generally had found Clegg to have bested Brown and Cameron in this form of electioneering thus accounting for the reported upswing in Lib-Dem’s in recent polls. The only knowledge and experience I’d had regarding debates was (as most people have) the American model. Whilst this generally followed the ‘town-hall debate’ format of American debates, with questions being taken from the audience, where the British departed from their American counterparts was in the manner in which questions were answered. Whilst in the American debates this format is generally marked with seemingly disingenuous, ‘I feel your pain,’ plaintive answers lightly skirting over the actual issues, at least two of the debaters, Brown & Cameron took the opportunity to actually go into the nuts and bolts of their respective policies. Clegg, however, was patently out of sorts, displaying his and his party’s naivety and unpreparedness to govern.

The looming spectre of “BigotGate,” which had occurred just the day before, was, I will admit, one of the main reasons I chose to watch after ignoring the first two debates. However, any expectations for a full on attack by either Clegg or Cameron were thwarted with Clegg and Cameron choosing to take the higher ground on what essentially was a non-issue. In fact, the only blatant reference to the gaffe came from Brown himself who in his opening statement said, “There’s a lot to this job (the Prime Ministership) and as you saw yesterday I don’t get all of it right,” which I felt brought a sense of much-needed finality to the issue in an appropriately apologetic tone before swiftly moving along.

Nick Clegg, whilst he in my opinion failed in the debate, the one message which he was able to successfully put across, was how the blame for the muck and mire that the United Kingdom found itself in today could be squarely placed at the feet of both Labour & Tory, and as far as I saw, there was no response to that claim from either Cameron or Brown. Despite the fact that his main message was put across successfully, Clegg took quite a battering from both Cameron & Brown who took this opportunity to show the Lib Dem manifesto for what it is, a collection of unfeasible idealism. He was particularly hammered on Lib Dems’ call for an amnesty for illegal immigrants that had been in Britain for over ten years, with Cameron & Brown coming extremely close to outright ridiculing the proposal. Personally of all the zany policies, that Clegg put forward, the most nonsensical was his housing policy. Exactly how he expects to compel private owners and builders of blocks apartment blocks to start building family sized apartments instead of the studio apartments with the market has a demand for, I don’t know. The one positive in his housing policy which he didn’t speak on too much, choosing to instead focus on the previously mentioned malarkey was his call, which he admitted was unpopular, for more council housing. Essentially with Clegg, form for him was his strong point, he channeled the best of US political debate style, appeals to emotion and broad (read vague) statements when it came to actual policy.

Cameron was the one candidate I was probably most interested to hear. Reason being, of the three candidates and parties, his was the one I had paid the least attention to. My reasoning for not bothering to listen or read up on the Tory manifesto was supported right from the moment he answered his first question. Despite all the promises of a ‘new Conservative Party,’ he espoused the exact same liberal-economic policies that Conservatives in the UK (and their Republican counterparts in the United States) have been selling since at least the eras of Thatcher & Reagan. “Smaller government is the way to go, government has to cut the deficit as government cannot stimulate the economy etc.” In these claims one could immediately see, that there was no new Conservative Party, a point which Brown repeatedly hammered, though how effective he was in relaying that message, I’m not too sure. A rather humorous moment for me with Cameron was his blatant attempt to capture some of that Obama-magic. His policy (and Brown’s it would seem) regarding financial regulation mirrors that of President Obama’s and after explaining his policy, in case you had missed that it was a near mirror of Obama’s Cameron stated, “we agree with President Obama’s plan…”

Gordon Brown explained his party’s policies extremely well, being able to respond to the critiques and attacks of Cameron & Clegg. However, this is where the problem with Brown comes in. Unlike Cameron & Clegg, who were very good at their delivery and thus had a number of easily remembered moments with Brown, there are no such moments. There are only two quasi-exceptions to this. His opening statement which is only memorable as being the only mention of BigotGate and when I felt he scored points not through anything he said, but because he stood back and allowed Cameron & Clegg to bicker between themselves when they were answering the immigration question.

Ultimately, I am a believer in substance over form and that is why I felt that this debate went to Brown, followed by Cameron then Clegg trailing a very distant third. However, the main poll that was being circulated both on television and on Twitter after the debate, YouGov’s poll, gave the win to Cameron by 41%, followed by Clegg with 32% and Brown trailing far behind with 25%. What to make of these numbers, I truly don’t know. What to expect on election-day, again I don’t know.

However, many seem to be returning to the belief that we can expect Cameron to be Prime Minister either through aligning with Lib-Dem as Brown charged or one or some of the smaller fringe parties. My take on this possible scenario is this. Clegg is an idealist, but at the end of the day he is a liberal idealist and though he may now eschew Labour for ‘betraying’ liberal ideals as one analysis prior to the debate argued, I cannot see, how the Lib-Dems would be able to explain to their electorate, that they chose to align with the ultimate enemy, Conservative A scenario I could see playing it is a Clegg Prime-Ministership. What would occur is Brown would resign after Labour placed 3^rd position in the election and the Labour leadership would go to Clegg proposing a Lib-Dem led coalition. This would scupper any chances of a Conservative led coalition government (made up of the smaller parties). Lib Dems if they failed to do this, would ultimately have to answer to their extremely liberal base as to why they failed to stop a Conservative government.

Ultimately though, I don’t have a crystal ball to look into because despite what the analysts say, having a politics degree doesn’t mean you can tell what’s going to happen. The only thing I can say for a certainty is this. Keep your eyes glued to the UK, exciting times are ahead and anything could happen.

Colour Me Unpatriotic

We as a people generally agree, Friday’s rock. Complain about Friday, never! Well that is until you read this. Friday in South Africa has now come to be known as “Football Friday.” Anyone who knows me will tell you that it’s quite obvious why this wouldn’t work for me, my aversion to football is well known. The world’s obsession with that sport, I will never get; I mean really, why should football… Wait, I’m getting sidetracked, back to “Football Friday.” On “Football Friday” (yes I will be placing it in inverted commas for this entire blog, that’s how much I dislike it) South Africans are extolled by politicians, celebrities and your average man on the street, to show their patriotism and wear the Bafana Bafana football jersey. Prior to Bafana Bafana’s win against Jamaica I would’ve put in a lovely little joke on supporting a losing team, but can’t do that anymore. Spoilsports.

The first issue I had when this whole “Football Friday” craziness started was how ugly football jerseys are. When I say ‘ugly,’ I’m not necessarily referring to their actual design, I mean, yes they do tend to fall to the, how can one put this kindly, garish side but if pushed I could forgive that. However, to quote the legendary Tim Gunn, “silhouette, proportion & fit are our friends and they will serve us well.” Citizens of South Africa, lovers of football, I’m sorry to inform you of this, but the football jersey does not fulfil any of these criteria. Don’t believe me, let’s take Tim’s sage words and break it down.

Silhouette: Now, I can’t presume to speak for anyone besides myself but I generally have an aversion to having the top half of my body look like a brick and that, my wayward countrymen is what you look like in your oh so yellow garb (yes yellow, don’t tell me it’s gold, because it’s not and that’s a fact). I may not have the world’s greatest physique but I’ve found that with the right clothes, I can look like I do, for just long enough to get them into bed, and after all that is what we all want at the end of the day isn’t it? And ladies, you all have such lovely lady lumps, in the right clothes, your shape, even I, gay as I am, am distracted by them. So on behalf of my breeder brothers; stop hiding them!

Proportion: With proportion, this again ties in with the silhouette element. With your top half looking like an ugly squat brick because you’ve decided to dress in what generally amounts to a square of fabric, what have you got left, the rest of your appendages awkwardly sticking out your now square torso. You end up looking like, and here I’ve laboured for a while trying to find the perfect simile but I can’t. You see the resulting image of your legs, head and arms sticking out of your square is so objectionable that not even I, with my near infinite well of sarcastic put-downs can come up with an appropriate one.

Fit: Now unless you have the physique of either of these two gentleman, I would imagine that your football shirt doesn’t look like that when you’re wearing it (yes technically only one has a jersey which is barely shown, but let's forget that for a while, just look and enjoy, then read on). This I’d have to say though is mainly not your fault. I’ve never looked at the sizing of these shirts (no way my hands are going to touch that) but it seems to me that these shirts start at a large (or a medium if you’re lucky enough to find the few that exist) and go upwards. The rest of the week you’re more than capable of wearing clothing that fits correctly, why, please explain to me why, in the name of this ridiculous craze, do you throw away all common-sense?

“Could it get any worse,” those are words I wish I had never uttered. When “Football Friday” came out, it was just the jerseys but like a fool I uttered those words and Murphy’s Law was fulfilled, because what happened? It got worse.

Enter stage left, The Diski Dance.

Now I like to think that I am pretty efficient with words, but trying to describe the loathsomeness that is the Diski Dance in words is the literary equivalent of a Herculean effort. In what can only be seen as a moment of prolonged insanity, Travel24 writer, Simon Williamson, a generally pretty cool guy extolled us to do the Diski in the name of patriotic pride.

There is one primary reason why you will never see me do the Diski and stems from a long held belief. In my youth, I lived through a particular period of time when the world was gripped by a lovely little ditty known as “The Macarena.” Now, not only was it a lovely song for 9yr old me to mumble along to (it was Spanish, a language I’m not too proficient in); no, as many of us will remember but pretend to forget, there was that a dance that went along, and boy could I Macarena. I Macarena-ed everywhere, school, at home, in shops, in the shower, wherever that song was played (even the Xhosa version, yes you read right, a Xhosa version) I Macarena-ed my little ass off. In fact my grandfather used to expect me to Macarena for him before any visit to him was done, and I Macarena-ed with pride to my Granddad’s mirth.

What has that got to do with the Diski Dance? Well the Diski & the Macarena are one in the same. They are offshoots of the family of dances that at the time seem like a great idea and fun to do, but you will rue the day someone pulls out those videos. A recent example that I wisely steered clear of was “Asereje” more commonly referred to as the Ketchup song. Whilst, these examples were songs, and the Diski is a dance, with no particular song to my knowledge, the underlying idea, self-embarrassment, accompanying the dances is one in the same.

Whilst tweeting about my aversion to the Diski Dance, a fellow tweeter, who’s in high school, Bernd Fischer, told me a story that has to rate right up there in high school nightmares. Apparently at his school, where I’m certain a cabal of sadists make up the administration, at the 100 days till the World Cup point, his entire school was called into the hall and instructed in the intricacies of the Diski Dance and then ordered to Diski. Now as per my recollection, high school was a time of tortured awkwardness and nervousness at embarrassing oneself as is. Add to that the thought of doing the Diski Dance, in broad-daylight, amongst your fellow students, I immediately started hyperventilating and required the restorative powers of a stiff gin & tonic.

So people in your oh so yellow squares of fabric you think of as shirts jigging away like you’re all experiencing a mass seizure I implore you, if not for me and those of us you visually molest every Friday, then for yourselves, remember, this is the World Cup. The world’s media will have its eyes trained on South Africa, those visuals of you in that ‘shirt,’ jerking away, will last forever. Some time in the future, those pictures and video of you in that wannabe-gold monstrosity will surface and you will rue the day you disregarded this warning. If that still then doesn’t dissuade you from this madness, then think of Bernd & his helpless schoolmates, forced to partake, against their will in this insanity.

Stop I plead!
Stop, if not for me, if not for you!
Stop for the children!

For One Thing, This Fortunate Gay Man Has Had Enough

“You seem much cooler than those whores inside!” that’s what this nice looking gal slurred to my friends and me as we sat outside one of those dodgy little bars that you (well, I) find yourself at after everything else has closed but the night won’t end. I slurred right back, “Grab a seat,” how could I not after an opening line like that? As her and her boyfriend sat, more traditional greetings were given, names were exchanged and in that way the slightly inebriated will, she jumped right to the question that the sober normally dance around and asked, “you gay?” “Yes,” I replied and I thought that would be the end of it. But sadly it wasn’t because right next, she asked something that caused me to severely regret having invited her to join us. Reason being this girl, in one statement, proved to be a particular type of person fast rising up my (long) list of types I don’t like, the fagless, ‘fag-hag.’

So how do I know that this girl was a ‘fagless fag-fag?’ Simple, if the glow that lit up her face when I told I was gay wasn’t enough of a give-away, her insistence that we go to dancing at Bronx followed by her little-girl-who’d-just-lost-her-kitten look as she complained she had no gay friends were more than enough for me to mentally file her in that group.

In my opinion, the blame for the rise of these single girls out there searching for their ‘gay’ can be placed firmly at the door of that cultural watershed, Will & Grace. Since that show, this coupling between men and women has somehow become the biggest thing, making Romeo & Juliet a very distant. In fact, straight women no longer pine away for Romeo to recite sonnets to them from under their balcony’s, they now sit around and pine for a man to watch Project Runway with, take them to gay bars, and most importantly it would seem, give invaluable style advice. Something as a fortunate gay man, I am finally going to put my foot down about and say, ‘enough is enough.’

Now I know, it’s all great and good, Will & Grace broke barriers, opened up the representation of gay men in popular culture. With no Will & Grace there’d be no Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood (though technically he’s ‘omnisexual’), no Scotty & Kevin of Brothers & Sisters or many of the other diverse representations of gay men that we can see across popular culture now. All of which is important for the advancement of gay rights and all that other good ‘human & civil rights stuff.’ But, even despite this, I just can’t keep it to myself any longer, at times I can’t help but wish a pox upon the day Will & Grace was put on air!

I long for a time when a single straight woman didn’t see me as a prospective shopping partner, as someone who’ll spoon ice-cream or pour wine down your throat as we bitch to each other about why he was such a fucking asshole for leaving you for that fat cow whom we will now refer to as ‘the big blonde one.’ And yes, I can look at your boobs and judge them with none of that pesky ‘male gaze’ stuff, and unlike your girlfriends, you won’t have to worry that I’m lying to you, because I’m jealous that yours are bigger than mine or smaller. But most importantly, I’ll know if he’s gay or not (most of the time).

I suppose it would only be correct at this point to admit that I am a sort of Will to not one, or two but rather three sort of Graces, Lee, Jane & Aithne or BFF’s 1, 2 & 3 as my Twitter people may know them as. What can I say, as a modern African man, I see no reason why I can’t have three even though this is a slight stretching of the tradition of polygamy. But lets not be a stickler for details. Despite my friendship with these three totally amazing ladies, I see no reason as to why this fact has to make so many straight woman think that I, am a prospective best friend. Some might say that I’m exaggerating a bit, but I kid you not, not once but twice have I been invited to go lingerie shopping with them by women I barely know, and that’s just the most extreme of examples.

Now you fag-less hag, I know, gay men are meant to be all sorts of fierce and fabulous. I could lie and say we’re not, but not even you would fall for that, many can be and are. But like all people we each have our own foibles, I for instance, as Aithne & Jane would attest to am a very crap best friend at times. I have and will continue to (sorry buds I can’t help it) forget the various details of this or that ex-boyfriend, or that guy from the one time who said or did this or that. You see the problem is, when I received my “Being Gay For Dummies” package, I skipped over the friendship part and went straight to the sex bit because in all honesty that seemed far more interesting.

So word of advice ladies. Just because that guy you’ve just met is gay, don’t take for granted that you and he will be bestest best friends forever. For all you know, he may just be as loutish as that boyfriend of yours, choosing to spend Sundays shouting at the TV screen as cars go round and round a track for hours on end or watch men chasing after balls (not like that) and not in the slightest bit interested in hearing about your issues or ‘going dancing’ with you. So please give him a break, don’t latch onto him like that. We are men after all, and desperation is as much of a turn-off to us, as our breeder brethren.