And The Horse You Rode In On.

I woke up really early today. Had my coffee brewed by 8 am. There was so much promise. I was motivated. I didn’t know what I was going to do but I couldn’t wait to get started. I never did…falling into a Twitter Hole in the first hour which led me to view a live streaming of Michael Jackson’s wake on somebody’s blog and then to watching the thing properly on the TV and recording it for my girlfriend because I thought she liked Brooke Shields. She doesn’t and there was no need to DVR it  because it’s been playing all day in a funeral loop.

Maybe he didn’t die. Maybe the mysterious lady at the end, standing behind Janet,  her face enshrouded by her giant floppy disc of a hat was Michael, master of disguise. I’m holding on to this. It’s fun to think Michael is still with us and Latoya was in the coffin.  

I got sucked into the Staples production, the wishful thinking and the blatant omission. They said Michael was pure. Pure. And Funny. And all his songs were the best. He didn’t ever write a stinker. Blanket is a popular boy’s name. And he was in heaven. Because everybody looked upwards to give Michael a shout out. It would be awesome if the same God  that sends you to hell for just missing mass on Sunday -is going to be okay with man-boy dating. But just in case God is as unforgiving as the preachers say. I would look down below when I say ‘I love you Michael.’ Make a little eye contact in case he’s down there.  That’s what I’d want if I was watching my funeral.

Hopefully we all will be reincarnated and Michael will come back as a Llama disguised as a Tiger. Everyone at the tribute seemed to be in denial about Michael’s insanity and pedophilia. Not a word until that Texas  congresswoman went up there and said. “In this country we are innocent until proven guilty.”  And everybody knew what she meant and applauded. She didn’t have to spell it out- She didn’t have to say “Because children lie!” That would have been awkward. 

Everybody just wants to love the Michael that Michael wanted to be and ignore that other Michael who dangled the baby out the window and had the secret bedroom and such. Bygones. I totally understand that.

Like this year during Gay Pride when I tried to ignore the Pony People. Men and women who dress up as ponies in their saddles, bits in their mouths, hooves, ears, tails. Then they prance like they think ponies move. And how long can one be a pony? Some of those ponies were old enough to be nags.The first time I saw these folks critters was on HBO’s Real Sex. They’re part of an old fetish society with a bunch of rules. The HBO ponies were straight and I was relieved. But now they have recruited some gays. They were at Boston Pride, San Francisco and maybe more. Is the desire to be a human horse a queer issue. Really Ponies? I don’t want to  live in a LGBT-P community. There’s not enough land. We’re not the same. I worship Judy Garland. Ponies worship Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet. I like tofu. Ponies like hay. Shouldn’t they march with PETA? Call me a mainstream a-hole but- Hold your horses pony people! You are really going to confuse the Prop 8 people.

Hold it! Beat it!

I live in San Francisco and like too many cities, we face the loss of our daily newspaper. Fortunately we here are blessed with two thriving weekly gay newspapers that you can pick up every Thurs for free. These papers will someday be the only source of national and local news in San Francisco. Almost like the SF Chronicle except with bare-chested men on the front page. I’d like to thank the masseurs of San Francisco for supporting our GLBT press with your advertising. If I ever have back pain or need an escort I know where to find one. I have talented friends who write for these papers but we can’t agree on everything which brings me to the following item in yesterday’s edition –

 “RIP the greatly gifted Michael Jackson . When all the late-night jokes about pet chimp Bubbles , the Jesus juice, and Jacko’s other eccentricities have died away, what remains is a showman for the ages. He did the term “queer artist” proud.”

No.. No.No. REWIND. Stop the gay presses. That last line has got to go. Who said anything about MJ being queer or proud? I just participated in the National Queer Arts Festival with hundreds of proud queer artists.  The term “queer artist” means you state you are queer in in a direct way. Wearing one glove is not enough. MJ was a tragic damaged genius who married Lisa Marie Presley , Debbie Rowe and hung a baby (maybe his) out the window. Things that queer artists would not be proud to do.. except occasional baby dangling, but only in New York. Michael Jackson had a period of great artistry. I would have been interested in what his summer tour and new album would have been like.

I only love about half of his music but I will concede  MJ’s creative legacy is up there with the greats. However he will never be inducted into the Queer Artist’s hall of Fame. Let’s review. He was batshit crazy for years, maybe he had sex with underage boys and married fag hags. None of that disqualifies him from being considered a queer artist – but it doesn’t qualify him either. The fact that all our gaydar was abuzz when we first saw him moon walk and we believe that his life would have been better if he came out doesn’t make him queer. He never said he was gay. He pretended, however lamely, to be straight. Michael was at best, or worst, a ‘closeted  artist.’ Don’t present him to our LGBT youth as role model. Michael is an example of what -not to do- in your personal life. And as one of the ‘queer artists’ who have been putting ourselves out there at the cost of wealth and fame let us keep our standards please. But I do miss MJ.

What do you think readers?