My Weekend Crush(ed)

Please believe me when I say this that it comes with the utmost of sincerity and from the very deepest part of my soul, FUCK THIS FUCKING COURT. As feared, those motherfuckers went and legalized discrimination against LGBTQ+ people on the last day of Pride. Like I said, FUCK THIS FUCKING COURT.

Yesterday it was People of Color. Today it is LGBTQ+ people. Last year it was women & pregnant people. And, just for good measure, they said fuck them kids and canceled President Biden’s student debt cancellation. This far-right court is determined to only respect the rights of Christian white men and corporations — which of course are run by Christian white men.

Even if it wasn’t a surprise (because we all knew this would be the outcome of Democrats losing the 2016 election, and definitely definitely knew after the death of RBG), we’re fucked. We are truly and sincerely fucked, and it’s OK to be angry or — as I was for the last nine consecutive hours — CONSUMED BY RAGE.

How dare this unelected, unaccountable and entirely corrupt (How many student loans could all those free luxury vacations pay off, Clarence and Samuel? How many?) court roll back the hard-won rights of progress? But never forget that these so-called Justices are not our lords and masters. They’re activist ideologues who (well three of them) were all appointed by a so-called President who inspired a political coup and lied about election results and stole classified documents and sexually assaulted so many women and banned Muslims and separated children from their parents.

That’s the thing about That Orange Stain. We’ll be fighting to undo his damage for likely the rest of our damn lives. Some of us will never outlive it. Elections, they always have consequences. The consequences of 2016 will reverberate throughout future history. And, as always, Hillary was right.

(Legit, I know Biden isn’t perfect. I know the Democrats can lack a spine. But JESUSFUCKINGCHRISTONADAMNCRACKER please just vote for him in 2024. Please. No third party or staying home bullshit. Or none of us will outlive Trump’s legacy of horror. None of us.)

Look, I don’t have anything particularly eloquent to say other than to let this moment, let this feeling radicalize you to the need for sweeping, transformational systematic changes. Poor people gonna rise up, and all of that. Expand the court. Set term limits. Create real ethics rules and oversight. Do something, do anything.

But no matter what, always remember that no court can take away what is right. Your religion does not trump by personhood. Our humanity is not up for debate. Happy last day of Pride and weekend, all. And FUCK THIS FUCKING COURT.

Gender Fuck Thursday: Boygenius

After so much nostalgia, in these waning days of Pride Month, let’s flash to the present. I can’t imagine the queer joy of being a young person listening to boygenius right now. OK, queer joy might be the wrong words here. Sad sensitive queer girl joy is probably a better descriptor for the indie supergroup trio’s music. But, no matter your age, it feels good to immerse yourselves in these extremely gay, extremely relatable, extremely emo (do kids still say emo?) songs that cut to the marrow of what it feels like to be a queer 27-year-old anxious lonelyheart in this world. Also, hot damn, I just really love their suits.

p.s. Had to swap out the videos, but this one should play. And there are still suits.

Feeling Weak

Well, now we’re just going way, way back. You may recognize “Weakness In Me” from its use in countless lesbian-themed covers, videos, shows, movies etc (including “The L Word” and a great version by Melissa, of course) And you may have wondered who was behind this gripping tour-de-force of desire and guilt. Of course, that is the incomparable British singer-songwriter Joan Armatrading. An intensely private person then and still now, Joan married her civil partner Maggie Butler in 2011 which I believe also served as her de facto coming out. But if you like me still remember the nudge-nudge, wink-wink days of Pre-Ellen lesbian celebrities, we all knew. And we loved her music. And still do — even if this is a lesbian cheaters anthem.

Come Out To My Window

Can you believe it’s been 30 years since Melissa Etheridge came out spontaneously at the Triangle Ball for Bill Clinton’s first presidential inauguration back on Jan. 20, 1993. While blurting out how she was “proud to be a lesbian all my life” with an exuberant k.d. Lang cheering her on, Melissa made unmistakable history as the highest profile star to come out as gay at the time. (k.d. Had done it a year before, but let’s face it she was alt-country at the time and Melissa was rock and had the bigger fanbase, period.)

It seems almost quaint now to think of the nudge-nudge, wink-wink we all went through with the celebrities we knew were gay but weren’t out at the time. Yes, obviously, this still happens. (No names, you know who you are.) Still it is encouraging to have so many younger queer/LGBTQ+ stars come out at the start of their careers — and not only once they’ve made it. So the days of proclaiming one’s queerness on the cover of Time magazine are likely over for good. Which is good.

While the career-ending stigma of coming out still lingers, so many of today’s stars have turned their sexuality into just another casual revelation about themselves akin to drinking oat milk instead of real dairy. (I mean, it’s a little bigger deal, but kinda barely?) And, again, that is good.

But while the nonchalance of coming out may be welcome, we should never forget the courage it took to be among the first. The right-wing panic you see about LGBTQ+ and especially trans people right now? Yeah, that was everywhere — and not just the prevailing sentiment among the looniest, most craven Republican lawmakers. I remember one of my favorite and closest high school teachers calling homesexuality “unnatural” at the time, and again there was nothing controversial or fringe about those beliefs.

Those of us with long enough memories are rightfully appalled at the GOP’s attempted turning back of the clock to the bad old days when so many of us had to hide our true selves. But instead of being discouraged, we should all approach this throwback hate with the full-throated gusto of Melissa did her music the year she came out. Here she is, just a few months after making history, belting out “I don't care what they think! I don't care what they say! What do they know about this love — ANYWAY?” Exactly this, always.

Music Monday: Ani Edition

Did I ever tell you last year for Pride Weekend I got to see Ani DiFranco in a surprise show? (She was filling in for the scheduled artist last minute). Because I did. And, goodness, did it take me right back to my early 20s. It has been 25 damn years since Ani released “Little Plastic Castle” in 1998, when well into my all-consuming obsession with her music.

I think, more so than even the Indigo Girtls and Melissa Etheridge, her music is what I associate with my burgeoning understanding of my sexuality. I wasn’t the kid who knew from her grade school days, even though the signs were clearly there had I bothered to put them together. I had to graduate into the realization that, yeah, girls. Definitely girls.

Ani’s music was the soundtrack to my, and probably quite a few queer Gen Xer's, late 90s and early aughts. So it’s with great delight that I’m sharing this never before released music video for “Little Plastic Castle.” At the time, it was apparently too expensive and laborious to finish. But I rather like this rough-around-the-edges version, fits with the song’s joyful combat boot stomping aesthetic. Happy Monday and last week of Pride, kittens.

My Weekend Pride Crush

I feel lucky that during my much younger years as I stumbled clumsily through the process of figuring myself out, I found Audre Lorde on my local library shelves. As a Gen Xer, my formative years weren’t spent online, but looking shit up in books. Yes, books. And on a trip to my library, amidst realizations that I did not like the boys like all the other girls did, I found Audre. Well, more accurately, she found me. Her writing remains as urgent and relevant as ever — particularly as books and libraries are now on the frontline against creeping christo-facism.

As the mother of intersectionality, Audre wrote extensively about the interplay of race, gender, sexual orientation, class, age and ability — even before we had the specific word for it. Writer. Poet. Activist. Black. Feminist. Lesbian. Warrior. She knew that the white feminism was not enough, and would never bring about a truly equitable world. “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”

We continue to relearn that lesson, over and over, as we hit walls and ceilings that refuse to be dismantled. We have seen the limitations of siloed thinking about race, gender, class, sexuality, identities, and all the other glorious differences that make up our messy humanity repeatedly. But when broken down to their basics, the issues we face so often are tied to the same old unjust systems — racism, sexism, capitalism (greed, baby, greed), ableism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia.

Pull one thread, and you see how they’ve been woven together over decades, centuries, millennia. Entrenched in this thinking is a pessimism about the ability to change. How can we fight these massive, unmoving systems? But that line of thought only ever benefits the co-called masters. Institutions built on patriarchy, racism, exploitation and consumerism like how things are going because it’s going well for them, and will fight with every tool at their expansive disposal to stop us. So instead patriarchy keeps patriarching. Billionaires keep billionairing. Corporations keep exploiting. Power keeps amassing.

Let us not be lulled into inaction by the enormity of the task, but instead energized by it. “Life is very short. What we have to do must be done in the now.” I carry with me the understanding that almost all of our issues are interconnected, and will take the combined work of all of us to dismantle.

And that starts by making sure the work of brilliant minds like Audre and so many others are not silenced. Ensuring that future generations can access the words and teachings that will expand their minds and refocuses their priorities is essential to change. That is, after all, what all the book banners and critical race theory haters and grad story time protestors are scared of. But there will always be more of us than of them, especially if we come together in fighting for a more just world, and we should remember that — always.

So thank you, Monroe County Public Library, for having Audre Lorde on your shelves. And thank you, Audre, for her eternal words, vision and fight. “I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” Happy Pride Weekend, all.

Naked Person Thursday

pic.twitter.com/XoCyWQyP82

— Janelle Monáe👽🚆🤖🚀🪐 (@JanelleMonae) June 11, 2023

Look, my Pride starts tomorrow and this is exactly where my brain is at this moment. So, you know, enjoy. Thanks, Janelle, for the continued queer joy. And, you know, boobies.

Reason to Cheer

Look, I know neither of these women are actually gay. But, come on. Come on. COME ON. Both Natasha and Melanie were pioneers in playing gay before playing gay was considered Oscar bait, when it was just extremely rare and kinda risky. Now if only Clea DuVall was also there (like before), I’d finally have a throuple to believe in. But, this post isn’t just purely superficial (only partially). This post is also about how great it is to watch two supremely talented, unassailably smart, fantastically funny women in their 40s get to talk about their work and lives uninterrupted for half an hour. Now, powers that be, I demand another Natasha Lyonne and Melanie Lynskey collab. I mean, if they show up looking this OMFGAMAZING together for an interview, think what they can do together on screen. (Again, “But I’m a Cheerleader” turns 25 next year and wouldn’t it be OMFGAMAZING if we got to catch up on these women’s lives?) Make it so, universe. Make it so.

Joy to the World

Damn, every trailer that gets released of “Joy Ride” makes me want to watch “Joy Ride” even more, which, well done marketing team I guess. But really, well done Adele Lim. The screenwriter behind “Crazy Rich Asians” and “Raya and the Last Dragon” makes her directorial debut with the ensemble girls trip comedy. While comparisons abound, it’s already abundantly clear the film is more than just “The Hangover” but make it Asian chicks. Instead of using a literal hangover as its narrative force to tell the story of dudes gone wild, “Joy Ride” follows an Asian-American woman’s search for her cultural roots, while also drinking too much and hiding drugs in bodily orifices. Now that’s what I call a win-win-win. Joy to the world and all that.

Music Monday: Padam Pride

Apparently I don’t go to enough — or any — gay circuit parties. But “Padam Padam” is apparently the Pride song of the summer. Now, I have a sneaking suspicion this song is more popular with the gay boys who regularly leave their houses after 9 p.m. on the weekends. Me, I’m more of a stay-at-home gay who listens to “Lipstick Lover” over and over again from the comfort of her couch. Still I see the “Padam Padam” love in line with the “Let’s Have a Kiki” love of more than a decade ago. It’s just another nonsense word with a great beat we’ve embraced as our own and, honey, why not. Padam padam, queers. Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

While I am on the opposite coast, I love it when Broadway leads the way for the rest of the entertainment industry to hopefully follow. At last weekend’s Tonys, two actors became the first nonbinary performers to win acting trophies in the award show’s 76-year history. Broadway vet J. Harrison Ghee and “Glee” survivor Alex Newell are both now in the history books (and quarter way towards an EGOT each) as Tomy winners. Ghee took home best leading actor in a musical for “Some Like It Hot” (as the Jack Lemmon role from the 1959 comedy classic) and Newell took home best featured actor (musical) for “Shucked.” Congratulations to these two supremely talented performers, with an extra woo-hoo for POC performers getting their due. (And for Newell to win a Tony while former co-star and ineligible for the Tonys this year Lea Michele watched, well, chef’s kiss!)

With more and more nonbinary, queer and otherwise gender nonconforming actors landing high profile roles (hey, Bella and Liv, hey!), the strictly binary world of top-tier acting awards must change to fully embrace humanity’s beautiful spectrum of otherness. I know, I know, here’s something else for the folks protesting drag story hours and pride displays at Target to get upset about. The funny thing about life is the only true constant is change, yet we chafe like overstimulated toddlers at the very thing that helps us grow and evolve. Still, I get it, change is hard (something I’m learning first-hand in my personal life at this very moment), but oh so necessary. People are people. Talent is talent. Awards are awards. The more everyone feels safe and included to be themselves fully (without trampling on the rights of others — see, that’s the part you keep messing up, bigots), the better for us all. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. The Tonys were also another showcase for queer theater kid extraordinaire Ariana DeBose to do the thing. Honestly, just have her host and dance and sing and generally queer up all of the awards shows always. Wouldn’t you rather watch her over Ricky Gervais or James Corden literally any day ever?

ETA: I agree with everyone's concerns about the inequality of current non-gendered awards, so I by no means think we can do away with all such classifications. But I am open to inclusive options which continue to push for parity in award distribution and recognition.

Too Gay for Disney

Too gay for Disney? Well then it’s maybe finally gay enough for us. The new trailer for “Nimona” has been released and it looks fun and fantastical which means Ron DeSantis would absolutely hate it. To which I say, GOOD. Anyway, the backstory on this animated film is it is based on nonbinary queer creator ND Stevenson’s graphic novel by the same name. You may know ND’s work from their Netflix series “ She-Ra and the Princesses of Power” and comic series “Lumberjanes.”

Anywho, “Nimona” was made by Blue Sky Studios, which Disney bought and then closed, but passed on distributing the film because of a purported on-screen gay kiss. The kiss in question is said to be between accused villain/actual good guy Lord Ballister Blackheart and perceived hero/crush object Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin. Ballister and Goldenloin? OK, now the too gay for Disney stuff is starting to make sense (though, obviously, still not justified, like how are gay kisses still controversial in this year of Our Savior RuPaul 2023?) I am also catching serious nonbinary vibes from the namesake shape-shifting hero voiced by Chloë Grace Moretz.

I watched most of “She-Ra” because I am a queer woman and that’s the law. So I’m looking forward to checking out Too Gay for Disney project when Netflix releases it on the very last day of pride month. But then, we’re always running fashionably late — it’s what QST is all about.

Pride Check-In

Don’t worry, I’m still here. I had some friends visiting through the weekend and the start of the week which got me way off schedule. Part of the last weekend was also spent figuring out this month’s Pride situation. We are halfway through the month after all. Which means it’s time to bring back this banger. Hope your Pride is progressing proudly, and you have an absolute riot - either kind of welcome and acceptable. Stay hydrated, stay safe, stay proud. Happy Pride, kittens.

Music Monday: Tracy Edition

Happy Pride month, where we will always stan for our lesbian music icons. And they don’t get much more powerful or enigmatic or iconic than Tracy Chapman. This clip of her singing “For My Lover” in 1986 — two years before “Fast Car” skyrocketed her to international fame — is as disarming as it is devastatingly good. Could you imagine being in the theater settling down for some unknown singer to start and then this happens? And those dimples? Holy fucking shit, those dimples. I sometimes wish Tracy Chapman hadn’t been so adverse to the trappings of fame. But then I totally get it, too. Just because you’re a once-in-a-generation talent, doesn’t mean you have to give yourself away to be devoured by the world’s endless appetite. Our tendency to eat people up and spit them out is one I understand wanting to avoid entirely. At least we have the songs we have, and the knowledge that a performer of this caliber walks amongst us somewhere. I do wish she’d let us see those dimples a little more often. But I’ll take what I can get. Happy Pride Monday, all. (Yes, every day this month is Pride something because suck it Nazi, TERFs and garden variety bigots. Happy Pride!)

My Weekend Crush

Oh, Padma. Padma, Padma, Padma. Admittedly, I stopped watching “Top Chef” a while ago. It wasn’t that I stopped enjoying the show, it’s just that I’ve weaned myself off basically all reality competition shows. (Truly, the only reality TV I watch these days are shows about cooking or shows about travel, preferably shows about cooking AND travel — but more on that later.) But it has continued to be a quality series about two things I love: food and Padma Lakshmi. Her announcement last week that she was leaving the food franchise was the end of an era, but I’m certain will not be the last by a long shot that we’ve seen of Padma.

I recently finished the second season of Padma’s “Taste the Nation,” which is a lovely show that follows her as she explores the diverse heritage of “American” cuisine. It’s one of those travel cooking shows I adore, in a field weirdly dominated by dudes (and white dudes at that — think Bourdain and Zimmern and Tucci and that Feed Phil guy). But her show is informative and a feast for the eyes, in no small part because of Padma’s curiosity and appetite — both which are on full display. And on a completely shallow note, I’ve never seen a more gorgeous person while eating. I mean, JUST LOOK AT HER. I know she will continue to highlight the often overlooked world of food. Here’s to a future filled with more Padma eating for our enjoyment and education. Happy weekend, all.

That Again, Again

Fine, FINE, let’s talk about the Season 2 “And Just Like That” full trailer (man, they really do tease these things out). Given that the SATC universe is one of the few franchises to address perimenopause/menopause in its characters lives — in addition to all the other so-called taboos this wildly imperfect but also wildly influential show has tackled — its ongoing incarnation remains of interest.

Last season brought us our fabulous Foursome Threesome all happily interacting with their new Emotional Support POC Friends. The addition of Sara Ramirez, Nicole Ari Parker, Sarita Choudhury and Karen Pittman was welcome, if somewhat superficial. So I hope the new season allows these women’s stories to be better fleshed out instead of remaining in the Friend Zone. I also want to address the ongoing onscreen relationship between the show’s real-life queers, Cynthia Nixon and Sara Ramirez. As much as I think these two very talented actors have ZERO onscreen chemistry together, I hope for good things between Miranda and Che because the world could always use more representations for unconventional queer partnerships — especially now. I just truly hope if they insist on exposing us to Che’s “comedy,” they get better at the actual comedy part. Just..be funny maybe? Just a suggestion.

p.s. And, yes, I am purposely ignoring the Big A reveal because hetero relationships always get all the press already and I already told you my most salient observation about him which is that he is very, very tall.

Some of Them Hormones

The day has come. The day I’ve reached the Evelyn Couch Event Horizon. I am officially in the Evelyn Age Bracket from “Fried Green Tomatoes,” as a woman in her late 40s who is struggling with “The Change.” And while I have not taken a class about my vagina or crashed my car into any whipper snappers — YET — these days I often feel the impulse to just Towanda my whole damn life. My perimenopause started when I had my period three times in five weeks earlier this year. And it has continued with a cacophony of other delightful symptoms — from your standard hot flashes to wild mood swings and undeniable brain fog. In fact, if you’re reading here and see a word out of nowhere that doesn’t make any sense, that’s just my tired broken brain doing its best these days.

It seems wild that “Fried Green Tomatoes” remains one of the few mainstream films to deal with menopause head-on. In the 32 years that have passed since its release, the topic remains somehow still too taboo. Yet basically all women and people with female reproductive organs experience this in their lives. ALL OF US. And let me tell you, it is not subtle nor sweet — and definitely not something to be kept secret. We should talk about it. I can’t stop talking about it. Honestly, it makes me feel kinda crazy. Couple that with other huge recent life events and some days I feel like my entire existence is about to break through the bottom of Evelyn’s paper-thin Piggly Wiggly grocery bag. Yesterday, a 30-second video tweet of Elmo (yes, ELMO) saying “Happy Pride!” made me weep. Things are not OK inside my skull, clearly. But I am working on it, and honestly knowing the “Why” does at least help. Now, onto the what to do next. Speaking of Evelyn, has anyone else got themselves some hormones? I am also not opposed to Stress Tabs No. 4. I feel like Jessica Tandy was onto something.

Queer Female Fight Club

A queer, female fight club? Say less, I am already in. IN, I SAY. I got a press release for “Bottoms” the other day and didn’t pay it much mind. I mean, the follow-up to “Shiva Baby” from writer-director Emma Seligman appeared at first glance to be another horny teen comedy, but from a female perspective. But then, I should always remember the “Blockers” doctrine, which is to give all female-led and created teen comedies a fair shot. And, goodness, am I glad I pressed play on this trailer. Seligman and “Shiva Baby” star Rachel Sennott co-wrote the script. Then add “The Bear” star Ayo Edebiri as co-lead and fellow queer high school loser and I am 100% in. Bring on the bare knuckles. Let there be blood! And, hopefully, a good amount of girl-on-girl making out. What? It’s a horny teen comedy for a reason.

Music Monday: Labour Party

Well, you liked that last TikTok feminist banger. How about another? “Labour” by British singer-songwriter Paris Paloma is another toe-tapping, fist-raising number that makes women and anyone who regularly has to deal with men (particularly cishet men) cheer. You gotta feel for straight women in particular. Like, these kinds of dudes are the reason you know sexual orientation is not a choice. Because who would choose a willfully unhelpful, lazily oblivious and/or flat-out misogynistic partner who expects the women in their lives to perform all the domestic and emotional labor? Though if it is a choice, hey straight girls, hey. (Kidding, I’m way too old for that mess.) Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

Do you believe in miracles? (Not on ice, I’m not that gay — though I am that old…) The miracle in question is the third season renewal of one of my favorite shows. After the wonderful season two finale last weekend, I had resigned myself to that being the end (given HBO Max new Max’s slash/burn ways). But, thanks to Big Gay TV Gods, it was given another season. As I was saying, miraculous.

Now, I’ve sung the praises of “Somebody Somewhere” since its first season became my sleeper show of the year. It’s so rare to encounter a series with such a big heart that showcases small town life nearly perfectly. Set in its star Bridget Everett’s real-life hometown of Manhattan, Kansas, this unassuming series finds its joy, pain and everything in between in the entirely ordinary.

Yet focusing on the everyday doesn’t make it mundane — far from it. And it’s a reminder that good storytelling doesn’t need crazy concepts or special effects to still be deeply affecting. The world of Sam, her gay best friend Joel, sister Tricia and the rest may seem small from the outside. But the process of supporting your family, making new friends and just living your life is always, infinitely complex. And it’s in those moments, “Somebody Somewhere” triumphs in its loveliness.

I cannot overstate what an ABSOLUTE PLEASURE this show is to watch. Honestly, I can’t think of a single reason not to watch this show. If you like flawed yet deeply relatable characters (I mean, who amongst us isn’t one?), watch this show. If you like show choir, watch this show. If you like the Will & Grace dynamic without an annoying Just Jack, watch this show. If you like fully integrated queer and trans characters who are not treated like Very Special Episode additions, watch this show. If you like earnest discussions of christianity and spirituality, watch this show. If you like earnest, funny-as-hell Midwestern people, WATCH THIS SHOW.

Honestly, I think that’s what I love most about “Somebody Somewhere” — its midwestern soul. I mean, even the name is unassuming. Yeah, this is a show about somebody somewhere but it could really be anybody anywhere. Because it’s really about life, it’s messiness, and how we each find our happiness amid the quiet mayhem of simply existing.

Typically, depictions of small town life fall heavily on the rural rube stereotypes — just a bunch of backwoods hillbillies doing hillbilly shit or whatever. Or they’re fish-out-of-water comedies à la “Schitt’s Creek,” where the big city sophisticates learn from the podunk townsfolk. But “Somebody Somewhere” doesn’t have time for that nonsense. Instead of filling the screen with prenaturally precious or impossibly charming characters, these somebodies feel like they 100% could be your next door neighbors — if only you take the time to get to know them.

And, in its own understated way, this show is also radical. I mean (SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON FINALE), the show ends with a trans wedding. If that’s not a radical act, then you haven’t been reading the news lately. The best stories about our chosen families have often been queer stories, and “Somebody Somewhere” is no exception. While Sam is straight, she is surrounded by queer characters who feel very of the moment and their location. If you’ve ever lived in a conservative area, you’ll instinctively understand the push-pull it takes to be out in that environment. Us Blue State gays (or transplanted Blue State gays like me) are largely preaching to the choir. But Kansas gays? Yeah, that’s where it matters the most.

I can’t wait for another season of this show. I can’t wait to spend more time with these people. I want as many people as possible to meet them and fall in love with these lovely and genuinely genuine people. Happy Weekend, all.

Happy Pride

The thing the bigots will never understand is that pride is never about the party. Yeah, we party. We have a parade. We dress up. And we dance. Oh, how we dance. But pride, pride is always a revolution. Pride is a fight. Pride is a statement. Pride is about saying, “I’m here! I’m queer! Get used to it!” to the universe, and looking fabulous while doing it. Pride is finding your joy, your people and, yes, your pride in yourself.

Perhaps one of the most inspired things queer people have done (besides being our inspiring selves, that is) is choosing the word “Pride” for our celebration. We are proud of ourselves, and we should be. We’re magnificent survivors, and not an era has gone by were we haven’t made immeasurable cultural contributions. The small-minded hatemongers can’t change that – try as they might. I think, truly, that’s what drives them mad the most. That so-called freaks like us could be proud of their differences, and embrace differences in others. How boring if we were all the same. How dull to demand total conformity when the universe offers endless multitudes.

So in this year, when LGBTQ+ rights are under attack and trans people are being erased from public life, let us use this June to walk through our lives with purpose. I never thought the same tired (and of course deeply untrue) pedophile, groomer smears would resurface in our national discourse. Silly me, I thought we were past that shit. But I guess our visibility and the wider world’s increasing acceptance and inclusion of us homosexual and transgender weirdos was just too threatening. Or maybe they’re just out of ideas. The wave of anti-LGBTQ+ and specifically anti-trans laws has hit Satanic-panic level hysteria among Red State Statehouses.

But instead of backing down (hey, Bud Light and Target – go fuck yourself with your fair-weather Rainbow Capitalism), we should be even louder this pride. March longer. Dance harder. Stand taller. Be prouder. We’re proud because we’re a part of this world, and the world in turn is better from all the beautiful, beautiful color we bring with us. The sky looks better with rainbows, and the world does too. Happy Pride, kittens.