I woke up late this morning. Probably the latest I’ve awakened in the last 5 years.
When I finally got out of bed and glanced at the clock, I realized that I needed to get going … and quick.
I threw some clothes on, grabbed my jacket and camera, then went into the living room where the rest of the family was already immersed in the latest Nintendo Wii title.
“I’m walking down to the Gay Pride parade, if anyone wants to come with me, you have 3 minutes to get ready!”, I said.
My youngest daughter, who was by this time standing at my feet, furrowed her brow into her best “thinking face”. I gave her some time to process the situation, and after mulling it over for ten or fifteen seconds, she finally asked “Is that the one where the men show us their penises?”
You know, it’s interesting what kids remember. It’s been a full year since the last Seattle Gay Pride Parade (now simply called “Pride” since living in Seattle and being gay is redundant), and I had all but forgotten about the naked men riding their bikes and rollerblading in the parade, proudly displaying their ballsacks and cockrings for all to see.
Prolonged Adolescence
We briefly spoke about the men last year, but since that time, I’ve not uttered a word about them in my household. The subject simply has not come up. Yet, it’s something that my youngest daughter, a girl who only three years ago couldn’t even speak, still remembers. And really, why wouldn’t she? It’s the first time, the only time I hope, she’s ever seen an adult male penis. If I have my way, it will be the last time, too.
Buttocks and Ballsacks & Wieners, Oh My!
“Yeah, that’s the one, wanna go?”, I replied.
As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I was weirded out.
Had I really just asked my daughter if she wanted to go look at a bunch of naked men with me?
That certainly wasn’t my intent, but apparently this … this is what it has come to. The struggle to end discrimination, the fight for equal rights, the efforts to abolish stereotypes, and here I am in 2012 feeling like Jerry Sandusky because I wanted to take my young child to see what was supposed to be a celebration of human rights.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Once upon a time, I was what you might call a “peripheral member” of the gay community. My best friend and roommate of many years was a gay man who was active in gay causes, and through him, I was able to develop and maintain strong social ties to the community. I was always extremely supportive of gay rights, and on more than one occasion, I marched right along with them. It even got to the point where I could make all the buttsex jokes I wanted without being called a homophobe. It’s a good thing, too, because I made lots and lots of buttsex jokes. After all, what’s not funny about taking it up the poop chute?
Since that time, I’ve watched an entire nation become more tolerant … much, much more tolerant of gay causes. I’ve watched as gay people have attained an average living standard significantly higher than that of their heterosexual counterparts. I’ve watched millions upon millions of young, straight men misappropriate gay culture (“metrosexuals”), because said culture is now decidedly “in”. I’ve watched civil unions and gay marriage become legitimized, and I’ve watched openly gay people rise to higher and higher positions of power.
Sadly, at the same time, I’ve also watched with great disappointment as more and more gay groups exploit and abuse that power. I’ve watched as they’ve slandered and labeled anyone who has not bent to their demands as “homophobic” . I’ve watched as they intimidated the Space Needle into flying the gay pride flag in 2011. I’ve watched with despondence as the fight for gay equality has morphed into a fight for gay privilege. I’ve watched as the gay community played up, and even celebrated, every negative stereotype that has ever been cast their way.
Most of all, I’ve watched with great sorrow, as I have become more and more alienated from a cause that I once wholeheartedly endorsed.
As time marched on, and Gay Pride parades have gotten more acceptable … more fashionable … I’ve grown less interested in looking at 50 year old men prancing around in assless chaps. I’ve grown bored of watching 200lb women bare their breasts because they think it’s empowering. I’ve gotten tired of watching adult men ride around city streets with their dicks hanging out.
I’ve begun to realize that mainstream society is not so much accepting gay people, as it is infantilizing them. Patronizing them. Nowadays, people laugh and applaud at the Gay Pride parade in the same manner in which they laughed and applauded at black minstrel shows decades ago. I don’t know any more if we are celebrating civil rights, or if we’re merely humoring the cartoon characters we see before us.
When average folks see grown men riding around naked on bicycles, do you know what they really see? I mean, besides the obvious?
They see children. They see little boys. They see a bunch of privileged ex-suburban white kids who want to remain children forever. They see 8 year-olds in 38 year-old bodies who want to wear neon sunglasses, play dress-up, and obsess over their genitalia every waking moment of the day.
This is why Gay Pride participants get away with doing this stuff without being hit by an indecent exposure charge. When children run outside without clothes on, it’s not seen as offensive, it’s seen as cute. When adults do the same thing, it’s seen as perverted, and nobody sees these people as adults.
Is this really what we want, though? For gay people to be humored? To be laughed at instead of with?
More and more, Gay Pride parades across the nation have become parodies of themselves. They’ve become vehicles by which to reinforce every goddamn stereotype that has ever been fostered upon the gay community.
“Look everyone, here’s my ass, I’m proud of it!”
“Look everyone, here I am dressed as Cher, I’m proud of it!”
“Look everyone, here’s Wells Fargo! Since we have lots of disposable income and will never pay child support, Wells Fargo approves of our lifestyle! Not because it leads to greater profits for themselves, but because they really, truly, and sincerely approve of the homosexual lifestyle! We’re proud of them!”
“Look everyone, here’s me dancing suggestively before shoving my tongue down some guy’s throat to wild applause, I’m proud of it!”
“Look everyone, here’s my big moose pecker, I’m proud of it!”
On some level, this is all well and good.
But …
Remember all of those awful, hurtful names you were called 30 years ago? Remember those ignorant stereotypes? Remember those bad, bad people who in the past, all just assumed that you were nothing more than sex-obsessed perverts and predators, lying in wait to corrupt their young children?
Well, like it or not, they’re watching. Maybe they’re trying to keep an open mind. Maybe their son just came out, and they’ve come Downtown to get a glimpse into what this gay stuff is all about. Maybe, despite their convictions, they’re trying to show support for him.
Is this what you think reflects best on the homosexual community?
Ass Cream. Get it? Not Ice Cream, But Ass Cream, 'cause gay people love them some asses. Especially asses with dicks in them! Oh, hi little girl! Don't worry, I'm not a pervert. Who called me a pervert? Some homophobe I bet!
Is this what you are most “proud” of?
Can you believe I'm 37?
Do you really think exposing their kids to adult male genitalia is the very best way to get that pride across?
Look, don’t get me wrong, I don’t personally find any of it truly offensive. I can’t speak for them, but I honestly don’t think that my kids are scarred for life or anything like that. We all just laughed it off last year, and if it happens again we’ll do the same.
That said, most people do get upset when their kids are unexpectedly exposed to the genitals of strange men. I’ve seen countless parents get upset when their kids are exposed to profanity … imagine how upset they’d get if their kids were exposed to some old dude’s sweaty testicle luggage.
Save this stuff for the after-hour parties on Capitol Hill. As it is, about the only thing that “normals” see during Gay Pride celebrations are sex, ass, and dick, sex, ass, and dick, sex, ass, and dick. Yeah, yeah, they get it. Gay people are obsessed with sex, ass, and dick. Point made. Crystal clear. I’m pretty sure this is what they have assumed all along.
As politically incorrect as it is to say, the fact of the matter is that, sometimes, we are responsible for the way in which other people perceive us. Despite what the media tells us, sometimes, the holder of a stereotype is neither evil nor ignorant. Sometimes, that person is merely calling it as he/she sees it.
My daughter, who is not evil … not prejudiced … hell, not even old enough to attend elementary school … and without any influence from me whatsoever … already associates “Gay Pride” with grown men waving their bare penises at her.
And that, my proud gay friends, is not my fault.
It’s yours.
As I rode the elevator down to street level, en-route to the Gay Pride parade today, I ran into a neighbor.
“Where are you going?”, he asked.
“The Gay Pride parade”, I mumbled.
“You’re a little early”, he said, “the parade doesn’t start until 11am … tomorrow.”
And with that, instead of heading down to 4th Avenue, we made our way to Gameworks, where, I’m happy to report that a good, dick-free time was had by all.
The End.
Good to see that shot of SPRUNT. Nice riding, bro.
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a ‘metro’ in a long time. I think that was the Turn of the Millennium’s pet rock.
Thanks, Stu. It’s hard to concentrate with that special bike “seat” I had made, but I think I managed OK.
You have a right to be disappointed; you have a right to your opinion; and you have a right to be wrong. You seem to be exercising all three of these in your post here. How so?
1. Being naked is not the same as being sexy/sexual. The Body Pride Ride was Created in 2005, and this annual wheeled event welcomes people of all shades, shapes and sizes in a clothing-optional tour of Capitol Hill, participates in the Pride Parade, and celebrates at PrideFest. BPR protests the onslaught of media and industry promoting impossible perfection. Pride for Every Body ’cause Every Body is Beautiful
2. Your daughter probably remembers the penises from Pride because it’s likely the only time she’s ever seen them. Kind of like if she went to one baseball game in her life and something other than baseball happened (like a streaker running through, or something else unusual that people had a reaction to), she would have that frame of reference for baseball.
3. The Seattle Gay Pride Parade is but one of several clothing optional events in Seattle, the Northwest or the world – and isn’t inherently “gay” or “straight.” Over 700 naked riders participated in this year’s Solstice Parade. More than 12,000 came out for the World Naked Bike Ride in Portland that same weekend. All over the world there is nudity at events like Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Carnival in Brazil.
You may perceive public nudity as “childish,” but others see it as freedom. And just as you have the freedom to look away, we have the freedom to see your prudishness and roll our eyes.
You have a right to be disappointed; you have a right to your opinion; and you have a right to be wrong. You seem to be exercising all three of these in your post here. How so?
1. Being naked is not the same as being sexy/sexual.
Your absolute ignorance of human instinct and your complete psychological residence in a land of self-created make believe, while cute, is of little intellectual persuasion.
You may perceive public nudity as “childish,” but others see it as freedom. And just as you have the freedom to look away, we have the freedom to see your prudishness and roll our eyes.
LOL.
Thanks. I do believe that’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever been called “prudish”. I can finally cross that off my bucket list.
Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s see how well your comment holds up to scrutiny.
You do realize that I’m one of the few bloggers in this town that was willing to give you any on pub on my own pages, right?
Don’t believe me?
Go ahead, check out the big guys … go and surf on over to King 5. Komo. Kiro.
Feel free to surf all the “award winning” blogs as well.
Do you see yourself on there?
Did you see your pecker?
No?
But, here you are, on my blog, the blog of one of the few people in Seattle willing to forgo any shot at ad revenue, any hope of sponsorship, by posting pictures of your dick, because I’ve always felt responsible to give people what the mainstream media will not.
Yet, according to you and the intellectual giants that you call friends, I’M a prude.
I’m the guy who spent three hours of my day waiting for, taking, rendering, and posting video of the Naked Pumpkin Run last year.
I’m the guy who got it yanked off of YouTube after getting too many complaints, and I’m the guy who got threatened by Google that my account would be banned if I ever did it again.
Did you come to my defense?
Wait, let me see …
I’m looking …
Hold on, still looking …
Almost done ….
Here it is! Why, yes, you did come to my defenoh shit, wrong person.
Apparently, from what I can see in my own records, you didn’t do diddly fucking squat.
I’m sure that was just an oversight, though. Your anti-Google, Pro-SeattleRex Rally is going to start any day now … I can feel it!
Then, after getting it kicked off of YouTube, I paid for a shitload of bandwidth out of my own pocket, hosted the streaming video on my own server because I don’t believe in censorship, and let tens of thousands of people come and look at your schlong, on my server, 110 Megabytes at a time.
But, I’m a prude. Right, Einstein?
Did you know that, last year, I posted the Fremont Solstice Naked Bike Ride in its entirely?
Did you see our wealthy, publicly traded, ad-laden local media’s video of the ride?
No? What a coincidence, neither did I.
But, despite it all, according to you, I’m a prude, simply because I don’t agree with you.
I’m a prude because for the second year in a row, I took my daughter to the parade … knowing full well that your pecker was going to be a part of it.
That wasn’t good enough for you, though. Oh no. No no. Showing the world your pictures and returning year after year to see your one-eyed willy isn’t good enough … no … in addition, I’m supposed to be HAPPY for my 5 year-old daughter to see your fuckstick, or I’m a prude.
I mean, that is your official position, right?
You know, now … now I’m starting to see why you posted anonymously. It was probably the best choice you’ve made all week. I wouldn’t want to be associated with comments which, even by internet standards, are so painfully, painfully inane.
And while I’m in a good mood, let’s get one more thing straight.
Nudity is not freedom, and society forcing you to wear clothes on 4th Avenue is not oppression.
Do you have any idea how many people in this world would kill for your warm clothes? Do you know how many people pray every night for one, just one good pair of good shoes to last them for the rest of their lives?
No, you don’t have any idea.
You’re a passive-aggressive, pampered caucasian from the suburbs in the midst of your 40th year of prolonged adolescence. The biggest problem you’ve ever had is where to go on spring break or which company to buy carbon offsets from. You equate all forms of masculinity with misogyny, you think your dogs are your children, you think everyone but you is a racist, and you’ve used the word “amazing” at least 72 times since lunchtime.
How am I doing? Getting warm?
The fact that you find clothing to be an encroachment upon your freedom is disgusting. It’s obscene. It’s grotesque.
There are people in this world who don’t have food. There are people in this world who are being held in subhuman conditions while being tortured for their political beliefs. There are people in this world who are being stoned to death, today, because they are gay. There are people in this world, right now, who are having their hands amputated because they stole a loaf of bread to feed their families. Tonight, there are children who are being blinded so they can’t escape before being sold into slavery on the streets of Southeast Asia.
And you think you’re oppressed because society expects you to wear pants on 4th Avenue? You think you’ve suffered because Cosmo Magazine says you’re fat?
You shitty, shitty, little immature person.
You have NO IDEA what a real problem is.
You are a privileged honky who has the luxury of inventing fake problems, because all the real ones have been taken care of for you. By the guidance counselor, by the government, or by mommy and daddy … you’ve never had to fight, and I mean truly fight with skin on the line, for anything.
You are an immature child, a walking fetus, a 150lb embryo, the human equivalent of a Faberge Egg. You are a pampered infant who, though the sheer luck of random selection, won the genetic lottery.
Sir or Ma’am, if you had any sense, any decency whatsoever, you would run, not walk but RUN to the Grand Canyon and kiss the crack of Mother Nature’s ass that you should be born the King or Queen that you are. The top 1% of 1% of privilege this planet has ever seen, or ever will see.
You could not imagine what real oppression is. You could not fathom, not even if you wanted to, what a true lack of freedom is. If you knew even one-tenth of what people in the real world went through on a daily basis, it would shatter your world view and almost certainly leave you cowering in a corner, shivering like a wet dog, babbling like a loon, and crying like a baby.
Were you, for one day, only one day, to live in the reality that 3 billion other people in this world do, your expensive therapist would not be able to procure enough Prozac to remove the horrific images from your psyche. The nightmares would torment you to the point where only the sweet kiss of hot lead upon your pallet as it made it’s way to your frontal lobe before painting abstract art with your grey matter upon the Star Wars poster that you so cherished as a child, could bring relief.
You know, before reading your comment, I really didn’t have that much against you and your naked riding peers. Sure, I rolled my eyes at you all, and I found your antics annoying at times, but I figured that deep-down, even though you may be a little silly, a little misguided … I figured that you were probably nonetheless decent, rational, intelligent people.
Mea culpa.
wow…this is how you obliterate someone intellectually…
Rex you’re amazing (sorry)…I promise I will support any political activity you undertake in the future…you have any idea how successful you’d be if you ever decided on doing that? ….deer god, you’re a tour de force of brilliance….
Oh, and I also promise I will never call you prudish…
TL;DR
Actually I did and to sum it up for the other people, Rex loves the cock.
I still have no idea how you equate homosexuality with public nakedness, unless you’re trying to reinforce negative stereotypes about gay people.
Personally, I love being naked. If I didn’t have to wear clothes unless I wanted to, I’d be naked all the time. But, I don’t feel oppressed because I have to wear them.
After all, if I really wanted to make sure tons of people can see my meager dong, I’d spend my nights on ChatRoulette.
I need to point out that assless chaps is redundant. If chaps are not assless they are pants.
Rex……you are a prude. There, i said it
and Sprunt, was that you on the bike? That was my first thought, even before I saw the comment
Thanks, Karen, but no. That isn’t me on the bike.