David Dust said…
Darling Bob –
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I thought Christwire.org was a satire site.
I been had!
Or……have I! 😉
I found this on Christwire.org, a website for “Conservative values in an unsaved world.”
I know what you’re thinking: What in the Hell were you doing over there? Well, it’s because this story is just too good, and too deeeeeeeee-lish to pass up.
It seems that the good folks over at Christwire believe that The Golden Girls TV show , ahem, cough cough, made me gay. I know! Deeeeeee-lish! Right?
From the site:
“The Golden Girls television program was never much to look at. A foursome of Florida geriatrics getting agitated about pharmacy bills and shoulder pads– who could ever find such a thing interesting? But somehow these perky and absurd women wormed their ways into America’s homes for an 8-year run in the 1980s. Maybe it was our desire to see our grandmothers having fun that encouraged us to watch. Maybe we wanted to believe old age wasn’t dominated by infections and hip problems, loneliness and crushing depression before death finally stomps us out like the acrid end of a damp cigarette.”
Or maybe we just wanted to laugh. How gay!
Then they proceed into a homophobic hate-filled rant about “The Boys” who watched “The Girls.” According to Christwire, we were “too delicate for sports, too awkward for girls, too “artistic” for labor-intensive work and too flamboyant for peer acceptance in high school.”
Well Christwire people, I’m a lot of things, but delicate is not one of them, neither is flamboyant. I just liked the idea of a good laugh and a smidgen of Bea Arthur sarcasm. Does that make me gay? No, honey, I was queer long before “The Girls” showed up on Saturday nights.
But, apparently, as the good folks at Christwire have noted, there are buttloads [The good folks at Christwire seem to like the word butt, so I thought I’d help out] of studies as to why The Gays love The Girls. Mostly, they say, it’s because we lacked a good masculine role model in our own lives and we were drawn to these aging matrons.
Matrons. Their word. I called them Golden. How gay.
You see, they think that, with Reagan as president, the possibility of being annihilated by “them”–whoever “they” were at the time–and the second coming of Christianity, in the form of Jerry Falwell [though they fail to mention those paragons of virtue Swaggart and Bakker–they think that The Gays began skipping out on the discos and the cocaine, and started looking for something else. Something Estelle. Estelle Getty, I say.
And they point to, yes, The Golden Girls Agenda, as the root of the rise in young queens in the 80s. Since we were the delicate kids, the ones who lived in broken homes which destroyed our faith in “traditional relationships,” and we began listening to, and watching, groups like Duran Duran, with their ” big hair and overactive libidos” and we were instantly overcome with the desire to turn off women and focus all our energies into man-oh-man-on-man love; man love with big hairy men of differing ethnicity’s. Oh, yeah, they went there.
“With the utmost cruelty and immorality, The Golden Girls seized upon this opportunity to cross the hormonal wires of America’s lost generation.”
And with this agenda, we had no choice but to seek out other Girl-o-philes and mimic the voices and the gowns; our delicate nature made us turn from masculinity and become Dorothy or Blanche or Sophia, and the occasional Rose. But when we tired of the acting-out of our fave episodes, we turned again toward what Christwire calls a “harder thrill.” Go figure. A harder thrill called same-sex sexual experimentation.
Yes, after quoting Sophia and eating cheesecake, my next step was to feel up the boys. Honey, I didn’t need fattening desserts and TV characters to know I wanted to feel up boys. I knew long before any Dorothy showed up; Dorothy Zbornak or Dorothy Gale.
But it gets worse, if that’s to be believed.
Christwire goes on to say that if, today, you run across a middle-aged homosexual, he is likely to quote a Girl-ism, most likely something uttered by “liberal activist and Archie Bunker-foe Bea Arthur.” You see, they believe that Dorothy’s masculine voice, her coldness and temperament, taught us, and by us I mean The Gays, to “disparage everyone in [our] orbit. She schooled them on insulting people’s clothing choices, body odors, organ sizes and educations. Dorothy taught the gays to speak very fast and have the most superior attitude possible.” She didn’t teach me to have a superior attitude, I am superior. Deal with it, Christwire .
“In whatever afterlife world she inhabits, Bea Arthur is surely pleased by your outrageous outrages, you homosexual anarchists of America.”
Oh, Bea’s in Heaven, dear. And she is laughing. At you. So, Christwire says we learned snark from Dorothy; what did we learn from Blanche?
Sluttiness, of course! Blanche Devereaux taught us to have an insatiable sexual appetite and do anything and everything to get a man into our beds, and, like Blanche, we “demand expensive dinners and presents from [our] ‘dates’.” Her promiscuity is a common model for today’s homosexual, because, as Christwire notes, most homosexual relationships last a week; and they’re right, Carlos and I have lasted a week…..well, 470 weeks and counting.
They also believe Blanche taught us older gays [Older? How dare you?] that we “need a new strange man on your arm every seven days” and now, with syndication, the younger gays need five new boyfriends a week! Goddess! No wonder the young ones are exhausted.
But our exhaustion is dissipated by the comedic styling of “x-rated comedienne Betty White”, who played Rose. What does Christwire think we learned from Rose? Hmmmmm. Oh, we learned to be stupid. “Every buff beefcake I’ve ever met has been tremendously brainless. They can bump out the beats to any Madonna song on a club railing, but are incapable of telling you the difference between Acapulco and an avocado.”
Um, avocados are used in guacamole which you eat with chips………in Acapulco. Happy?
And then, Christwire says The Girls ruined “Miami’s masculine” reputation because it was no longer the city of Cuban drug dealers and pastel wearing [Pastels?] cops it had once been; now it was thongs and Cosmos, gay bars and discos, hot sex and…. where was I?
Ah yes, Christwire. They’ve informed us about what lies ahead for us Turned-Gay-Boys-By-The-Girls. With our hair thinning, our guts getting bigger [I think they’re confusing us with The Straights] and the realization that we will never become a “CEO to make [our] fathers proud”, where are we headed?
We all retire to The Sunshine State and move into gorgeous homes in Boca Raton and sit around and dish about sex and men and men and sex and eat fabulous food.
Oh, wait, we do that now.
But Christwire is afraid we’ll move to Florida and bring “the worst 1980s fashions […] High pants and feathered hair and modern architecture”. Honey, we gave up 80s hair and fashion, um, In.The.80s. You’re the ones who keep trackin’ it around town.
And they’re also afraid that, when The Gays move to Florida, we’ll vote out “Florida’s married Christian Republican leaders, like Governor Charlie Crist.” Oh, honey, he may be married, but rumor has it that he’s as Golden as any of us.
Now, I make light of this article, because it’s, well, unbelievably stupid and one-dimensional and written by a man with his own homosexual subtext, who can’t go more than a few sentences without talking about “butt munchers” and picking up young boys in a Sears dressing room, or nameless sex with a swarthy man of questionable ethnicity.
But, even in his idiocy, he perpetuates the hate, because, low as his IQ might be, his audience’s is even lower. See, The Golden Girls didn’t make me gay. Neither did old Rock Hudson movies or Boy George or George Michael or Elton John. I didn’t became gay out of repeated viewings of a TV show.
Born gay. Born. Gay.
But The Girls made me see that it’s okay. While Rock Hudson hid, and Elton married a woman, and George Michael dated Brooke Shields, The Golden Girls helped me see that it was okay.
Thanks Dorothy, and Blanche, and Rose, and especially, Sophia, because , really, I am Sophia.
Full story HERE.