Caution: “R” Rated blog. A reader sends along the link for Weeping Prophet Andrew Sullivan’s story about “bears”

The reader sez:

I find this stuff fascinating as a pop culture phenomenon, and suspect sociologists and anthropologists of the future will look to documents like this for a clue as to why we went mad and destroyed ourselves. My spouse says to me, “How can you stand to even know about this stuff?” My view is that we ought to be PUBLICIZING it; most people, I think, have this sanitized “Will & Grace” view of homosexuality. How I’d love to tell them about a former friend of mine, who when I new him cruised interstate restrooms for anonymous sex. How I’d love to tell them about a former colleague of mine, a very conservative and straight-acting out gay man, who, when I told him I didn’t understand the attraction gay men had for sex in foul-smelling public bathrooms, got a gleam in his eye and described the stench of sour urine as “nectar.” I wish they could have been with me down in the Mall in DC during the big early 90s gay march in Washington, and seen the nearly naked man with a long branch stuck up his ass (he was part of a group called the “Radical Faeries,”) the 70-year-old man wearing nothing but black leather short-shorts and nipple rings, the master-slaves, etc. All this was sanitized from press coverage of the day, but I was there, I saw it.

And I wish they could see this:

- – - – - – - – - – - -

By Andrew Sullivan

Aug. 1, 2003 | I was flattered at first. A burly, stubbled, broad-shouldered man, who could barely keep tufts of hair from sprouting from under his T-shirt corners, leered at me across the bar. He was drunk, alas. But it was five minutes to closing and this was Provincetown in July. “You know what I think is so fucking hot about you?” he ventured. I batted my eyelashes. “Your pot-belly, man,” he went on. “It’s so fucking hot.” Then he reached over and rubbed.

Refusing to regard all of the above as compatible with the Christian understanding of the nature of sex, the nature of the sacrament of marriage, and the dignity of the human person is why, you see, the Pope is a troglodyte.

“Nectar.”


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