Several polyamorous people currently orbit our world at the moment. We don’t get it, but maybe they understand something we don’t.
Anyway, despite ill wishes in accordance with the controlling nature of fearful and weak-hearted people, it’s nobody’s business if they do.
One homey from the wayback resides in the in-law apartment of his five-year girlfriend’s house, where she lives with her agreeable husband and child. One couple opened up their monogamous relationship after two years and regularly hosts kinky parties and rope-tying classes.
One snagged a new part-time boyfriend, who has a full-time girlfriend, who has a part-time girlfriend, who has a full-time boyfriend. One is finally dating the first non-bisexual man she’s been with in a decade, and wondering if she herself will now be able to date around. Then there’s those nasty, beautiful, honk-if-you’re-horny Porn Clowns.
And let’s not forget the gay one who, at Pride last weekend, theatrically banged his two (committed) boyfriends in a hallway full of men fucking, while several other single men looked on and pleased themselves. He said the best moment of Pride (besides that one) was wandering into a hotel room at the pool party to find two incredibly attractive women — one Amy Winehouse clone and one winsome blond-rocker chick — banging each other while couples of various down-south anatomies made out all around them. The Amy Winehouse one actually almost made my gay-man friend hot for women for a second there, he said, when she looked up from what she was doing, straight at him, and winked.
While we Southern girls lean more toward standard dating fare, it makes no difference to us, if it’s all consensual. No difference at all what you stick where, inside of who and in front of who. In fact, it’s fun to hear about people exploring themselves and others that openly.
Weirds us out sometimes, but other than that, we say do as thou wilt and harm no-one. (Wait, isn’t that what the pagans say? Are we going to be burned at the stake now with all the other degenerates?…)
We didn’t go to Pride this year, but have been witness in the past to the outpouring of love in all directions — thoroughly amazed and overjoyed at the multicolored, drum-beating love of a million people finally being able to be exactly who they are and shout it to the hilltops on their BirthGay.
That kind of behavior scares the fuck out of some people.
Yes, in other American towns where The Gay might try to display their pink triangle — originally a Nazi emblem, it’s worth pointing out — on the side of a dry grassy mountain … well, the judge would probably let the arsonists off easy. But this is the World Capital of Gay, and it’s rad.
Once, while hosting a friend from Germany, we took a walk with her through the Castro, and the first time she saw two men greet and make out in the open on the street, she literally burst into tears of joy.
Obvious Statement of the Day: It’s not like this everywhere.
What about a couple hours southeast of the Bay, where the drunk, just-released prisoner at the bullfight in rural California recently attacked a straight but male friend on the dance floor for being too effeminate in his movements — for “tryin’ to make [the prisoner] gay” just by existing? … That’s some hard-core gay-makin’, if a straight man can work another “straight” convict up enough to make him “angry” enough to break parole.
There’s also the much darker story — whispered DPW lore or buried truth? — about the time at Burning Man when the perimeter guards caught a few guys trying to sneak through the outer fence, crawling on their bellies all military-style, dressed entirely in nighttime camo and ski masks, armed to the teeth with guns and explosives.
The rumor states that for hours, Gate crew detained these guys and sort of interrogated them with the authorities, but they refused to say word one about why they were there. Since it was Nevada and the Soldiers of Fortune hadn’t done anything yet except try to sneak into the event with their personal caches of scarily sophisticated weaponry, the Gate crew had to let them go.
So. Sodom and Gomorrah, they say. San Francisco — and Black Rock City, by extension: Teeming buckets o’ sin.
I’ll be a warrior for Christ, the Soldiers of Fortune think. Or Allah, or whoever other dude probably never commanded me to kill fags in the first place, but I’ll just skip the research and tell myself he did cuz really, I just hate that I want to fuc– er, LOVE TO KILL fags. GOD HATES FAGS. He told me so. Just like Son of Sam’s dog.
Sodom and Gomorrah. If we had a dollar for every time we heard that phrase in church growing up — usually paired with the words “San” and “Francisco” — we’d have collected enough money to build our own GOD LOVES FAGS float at the Pride parade. Shit man, the Yay Area is the place where the creative, sensitive, misunderstood, and picked-on outcasts of America (and the planet) come to escape the tyranny of oppressive xenophobia. Something about all that stuff makes the people here pretty nice and open.
Our friend, the Mayor of Awesometown, actually HAS researched the Bible. He’s a known Jew who also swings “that way,” so he’s studied heavily on what actually went down in those twin cities of despicability:
Sodom and Gomorrah had spiraled out of control. Not with gay-ness, but with lawlessness. Complete and utter chaos. Not the good kind. Total disregard for human life. So God sent two angels to Sodom-town to talk to Lot, who was supposedly the last good man in Sodom.
Lot welcomed the angels into his home, and in the night, the men of the city surrounded the house and demanded Lot send the strangers out so the men could rape them. Fresh meat!, they cried. Give it over! … Lot refused. Funnily enough, he even offered his DAUGHTERS in place of the strangers so the crowd could rape THEM instead.
Don’t even get us started on that shit or we’ll get WAY off-topic.
So, the Mayor says, the real sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was inhospitality, brutality, and the betrayal of strangers’ trust. Wolves preying on sheep. God didn’t take kindly to his angels being cornered by a wild pack of predators, so he raised Lot and his family up on out of there and then smote the fuck out of everyone else.
So the Christians who say San Francisco is the next Sodom and Gomorrah, doomed to be the first to get smote — they don’t really read stuff so much as they listen to the preacher’s hearsay and interpret it through a thick layer of their own sexual discomfort.
But be that as it may, Otto once told us the best time to attack the enemy was at pre-dawn — when they’re asleep, drunk, or otherwise partied out.
Sex and play are vulnerable states. So is the debauchery of wine, pharmaceuticals, and song. Thus, within our explorations, it might do us well to remember that while good and self-realized people are busy enjoying life and trying not to harm anyone … evil, petty, insecure, angry people are lurking, watching jealously in the dark, plotting ways to take advantage of the big-hearted and unsuspecting.
Or maybe not! Just be hospitable and God shouldn’t smite you. Comforting, isn’t it?
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