Friday, August 3, 2007

Chapter One: In Which I Become a Homophobe

(NOTE: The One True Tami [blessed be Her name] if off on temporary assignment fomenting a fashion revolution in Uganda, employing Manolo Blahniks shoes for the masses and new styles of high tech hair coloring never before seen in third world nations. In her absence I shall be keeping you abreast of important information you need to know about me.)

Just this week, Netflix sent me a DVD with the first two episodes of the HBO series, Big Love. I'll confess that I was a tad disappointed, as I've been waiting with worms on my tongue [1] for the rest of the DVDs of the third season of Deadwood. I'd only put Big Love on there because I was running out of things to watch and a couple people had mentioned that it was good.

The usual evening online chat was well underway with a few of my friends when I mentioned this tidbit of information. My friends Marianne and Gary were of two different minds upon hearing of my latest viewing excursion.
M: How are you liking it so far? That show rocks!

G: Oh, Dude. No. Don't start watching that shit, man.

J: No? Why? I mean, I realize that polygamy is a pretty controversial subject, but it's got some good characters. Seems pretty well written so far, anyway.

G: Man. No. Listen, the women never get naked but you end up staring at Bill Paxton's big naked butt all the time.

M: You've got a problem with Bill Paxton's butt? He's pretty hot, actually.

J: Well, I don't think that's really the point of the show. But yeah, I can see where women might find him to be pretty easy on the eyes.

G: !

G: WTF??!?

J: What? No, I mean...

G: Man. What the fuck is up with that? Something you ain't telling us? Yer pink thong cutting off circulation to the brain there, dude? ROFL

J: No, I'm not saying *I'm* attracted to him. I'm just saying..

The rest of the conversation was pointless, but Gary had certainly gotten me to thinking. I mean, what IS up with that? I'm enjoying the show, the women never take their clothes off but I'm watching Bill Paxton's ass? What would the guys down at the gym be saying in the locker room when word of this gets out?

(OK... that's purely hypothetical as I'm rather sedentary in my habits, have never belonged to a gym and have a germ phobia about public showers... but you get my drift.)

Well that, as they say, was the liquid conveyance tube that fractured the dromedary's spinal column. I decided right then and there that it was high time I stopped putting up with this country's pervasive, subversive gay agenda. Who do these gays think they are, anyway? Look at what's happening to us! Now they've got me staring at Bill Paxton's ass! I was going to become a homophobe.

"But wait," I thought to myself. "Why stop there?"

Indeed. This entire culture of progressive acceptance is simply getting to be too much to bear. I mean, we're spending our time running around, trying to treat everyone with equality, not be pointlessly mean to people based solely on a dizzying range of reductive factors... it's exhausting! All of this tolerance is enough to make any decent progressive tip off for a quick lie down. Perhaps I'd given the Old White Boy's Club (TM) agenda short shrift in the past. Why, I might be overlooking a whole host of opportunities to make my life easier!

First I considered becoming a racist bigot. But while it certainly offers a lot of attractive incentives, (the opportunity to dress up in designer sheets on warm summer evenings hardly the least of them) I quickly realized that most of the black guys I work with are considerably younger than me and in really good physical shape. They'd probably drive me into the ground like a tent stake. That plan, sadly, had to be abandoned.

But how about scorning and abusing the disabled? Say.... this might have some merit. Let's face it, not many of them are going to be coming to beat me up. The only problem there is, a lot of them tend to have black friends. Hrmm... back to the tent stake scenario. This may take a bit more thought.

Then it hit me. Of course! I'll become an anti-Semite! I'll just start hating the Jews! How hard could it be? And you know how those Jews are, right? They secretly own everything worth having and they control Hollywood. Bastards.

And, conveniently enough, I have a Jew handy to put my new philosophies to work on... Tami! I've never been able to get any of my movies from Send Sardines Please Productions into the theatres, and Tami has never been one lick of help.

Jazz: Umm, Tami. I can't get any traction for my short films. Do you think you could put in a good word someplace so I can get a foot in the door with those elitist Hollywood dickheads?

Tami: What? I work in Information Technology. I don't know the first thing about movies or anyone in that business.

Aha! Stop and think about it for a moment. If you were part of a super secret, powerful cabal who controlled Hollywood and somebody came up and asked you about it, what's the first thing you would do? You'd deny it, of course! Proof positive and case closed. I'll be a homophobic anti-Semite. And if I happen to find any gay Jews, well... Katey bar the door. I'll have a stiff tongue lashing for you. (But... you know... not in a gay, fellatio or cunnilingus kind of way, of course.)

Stupid gay Jews. There... I feel better already. Now I have to go. The mailman is coming in about twenty minutes and with any luck I'll be watching Deadwood and eating some very manly left over Chinese food in no time.

No! Wait!.... THE CHINESE!!!!!!

[1] "Worms on my tongue" means "..with baited breath." I really hope you didn't need to read this to get that reference.

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