Okay, so first I assumed Stefon was gay. Then I backtracked and allowed for a bit more ambiguity about his sexuality, admitting that it wasn’t clear and didn’t define him. Can we at least now admit that he’s got a serious thing for Seth? It’s clear he almost already thinks they’re dating… and he wants to change his diapers. Or maybe the fact that he’s promoting bi-curious beach parties should be a clue! Not that it matters.

I recently attended a Stefon-themed party. Only a few people took the theme to heart, but there was a DJ Baby Bok Choy and a Jewpid in attendance. I hope the creative nonsense just keeps coming. Here’s what Stefon offered up for Mother’s Day!

Seventh Appearance – May 7, 2011

First club: Uuuuuuungh!

» Located in the middle of the West Side highway.
» Bi-curious beach party.
» (Italian) Club owner: Bologna Danza
» Split kicks.
» Pachucos.
» Pile after pile of expired Lunchables.
» Hawaiian cleaning lady that looks like Smokey Robinson.
» Natalie Portman? No. An old Irish black man that we call “Murphy Brown.”
» This Sunday: 2-year-old ultimate fighter “Drooly Lips Jackson.” He’s got fists like little empanadas. And he’s my best friend.

Second club: Spicy! (said in a strange voice)

» Opened in 2017.
» Upper east side of a dumpster.
» 24-hour bitch fest.
» Club owner: Rabbi Jew Diamond Phillips.
» Sandworms.
» Geishas.
» Rock eaters.
» A 7-level course in adult education.
» Kick back in a subway sleeping bag. (“When you’re on the train and you sit between two guys in FUBU jackets.”)

Stefon’s mom is Ms. Stefon and his dad is David Bowie.

How to say thank-you to your mom:

» Take her to central park and bond while flying a human kite. (“Where you tie a string to a midget in a windbreaker and then run through a field.”)

Seth’s Assessment: ”Even though you didn’t help tonight at all, no young party monster should be alone on Mother’s Day. So why don’t you come home with me and meet my mom.”

Lately, there’s a song that I just can’t stop listening to. It could be because it’s great for singing along. It could be the way the guitar is gentle and playful and yet driving with anticipation, accompanied by gentle piano riffs. Or it could be the way the song captures a special kind of feeling, the one where you know someone special has just entered your life and you just can’t wait to find out how they’re going to change it for the better.

It’s a feeling I hope we’ve all experienced at least once; I know I have plenty of memories that come flooding back to me. And even though I don’t currently have someone I want to run to, just thinking about that feeling gives me hope and makes me look forward to the next time it happens.

So, for no other reason than to encourage everyone out there to take a deep breath and smile, here’s Smash Into You by Beyoncé.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tqM7cNgOGA

I wrote back in December about Stefon, the eccentric club promoter played by Bill Hader who appears on SNL’s Weekend Update from time to time. I want to continue cataloging his interesting ideas, but first want to offer a correction of sorts.

I’ve referred to Stefon as gay before, and I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate. I think part of his eccentricity does play into gay stereotype, but his actual orientation seems to be a bit more ambiguous than that. In his Christmas appearance, he tells Snooki he has a girlfriend, and in last night’s Valentine’s appearance, he alluded to having dated girls before. Of course, he also hit on Seth (You should probably break up with her and do like a total 180 or something.). At any rate, his orientation has more of a Pat-like ambiguity (bi? pan? who knows?), so my apologies for playing into the assumption that he’s just gay.

It also seems to me that the SNL writers know I’m out here trying to interpret everything Stefon says. In last night’s sketch, they spell out one of the club names just before offering an unspellable club name. So to all you SNL writers: it’s not fair to tease when everything else you write is so unfunny.

Fifth Appearance – December 18, 2010 (Christmas Song)

In this unique appearance, Stefon sings “O Christmas Tree” with Gov. Patterson and Snooki. Here are the Stefon treasures we get:

» Brrrr….
» To Snooki: “This is fun, drunk leopard.”
» ????: “When jacked elves have like the pony keg chest and they bang their little baby hammer, sparks happen, and it’s just amazing…”
» In response to Snooki’s offer to smush: “I have a girlfriend. Sorry.”

Sixth Appearance – February 12, 2011

First club: Booooooooof

» Located in an abandoned orphanage on the lower lower East side of Chelsea.
» Round-the-clock puke party.
» Narcoleptic club owner: Snoozin’ Lucci.
» Pugs.
» Geezers.
» Doo-wop groups.
» A wise old turtle that looks like Quincy Jones.
» Gizblo, the coked-up Gremlin. “I’ll have what she’s having!”

Second club: HuYiKoSiYoVoHo!!

» Built on a dare.
» Club promoter: 90-year-old Fuji Howser, MD.
» Stun guns.
» Mole people.
» Freezing cold air.
» 12 dancing Jewpids (Jewish Cupids). “I just want you to meet someone nice and settle down!”

Romantic Valentine’s Day Gift:

» Human suitcase. (“When a midget on roller skates wears all of your clothes and then you pull them through an airport.”)

Seth’s Assessment: “Maybe just for tonight, and just for tonight, you can be my Valentine. I guess I got struck by Jewpid’s Arrow.”

Rather than regurgitate my reconciliation of my atheism with a not-so-secular holiday, I thought I’d share a simple thought today (Christmas Eve for many).

Lots of billboards debate the reason for the season. Some atheist groups like to point out that Jesus is a myth, which is a reasonable point. Some Christian groups like to hammer home that Jesus is the reason. I never understood what makes the birth of a baby in a stable a compelling story unless you 100% accept the virgin birth, which I think is a stretch for most believers. (That’s besides the fact that if Jesus was born, he most definitely was not born in December.) Jews, meanwhile, already celebrated that there was enough oil to burn for eight days instead of one—not as miraculous as the virgin birth of a god, but at least a bit more original (or did Osiris have long-burning candles, too?).

None of those stories really matter, though. See, way back in 46 BCE, Caesar figured out that December 25 was the Winter Solstice, the day when the Earth’s tilt is farthest way from the sun and thus it is the shortest day and longest night of the year. The calendar was off though, and the date started shifting to earlier in the year. Pope Gregory XIII standardized it in 1582, but screwed up and restored the date to December 22. (Maybe he didn’t want all his loyal followers in the Holy Roman Empire to be suspicious about Jesus just happening to be born on a day already celebrated by many Pagans.)

But that’s why we have holidays around this time. It’s dark.

So we need to light it up and warm it up (though admittedly, the wintry association with this time of year is biased to the Northern Hemisphere).

We need pretty lights and warm food and stirring music and good company. We need to make each other smile and show each other how much we love each other and exchange presents as tokens of that love.

And that’s it. That’s all it’s about. That’s all that’s important.

No myths or legends necessary! Just the intention to warm the hearts of your loved ones. We all owe ourselves and each other to do so at least once a year, and what better night than (almost) the longest of the year?

So whatever you do this holiday season, enjoy it. Do what it takes to make it really feel like the holiday season and not just the dark one. Celebrate that which makes us all human: love.

Season’s Greetings from ZackFord Blogs!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCNvZqpa-7Q

Last night we were treated to a fourth appearance of Bill Hader’s “Stefon” on Saturday Night Live’s Weekend Update. Stefon is flamboyantly gay and into “dungeon culture,” but his gayness is thankfully not the joke (how refreshing for SNL)—it’s the ridiculously bizarre clubs he promotes. Not unlike when Stephen Colbert lists the side effects of Prescott Pharmaceuticals on The Colbert Report, Stefon’s club descriptions are hilariously absurd, and like Colbert, Hader often corpses throughout the bit. (“Corpsing” is when the actors laugh at themselves out of character.)

It occurred to me that there is actually a consistent list of features in the Stefon bits, so I thought I would write about it. Here is a recipe for Stefon’s club recommendations followed by everything he’s listed from all his bits with hulu links. Enjoy!

» Names that have “trans” or “gay” in them.
» Retro and pop culture references.
» Things that are fat.
» Toys and puppets.
» Homeless people (“hobos”) in unusual roles.
» Black versions of famous white people.
» Portmanteaus.
» Answers to vague questions.
» Human ____ (Objects made up of midgets).

First Appearance – April 24, 2010

First Club: Crease

» Club promoter: Trannie Oakley.
» Lights.
» Psychos.
» Furbies.
» Screaming babies in Mozart wigs.
» Sunburned drifters with soapsud beards. (“When a hobo becomes a rich man so they take the big bubble bath.”)

Second Club: Wesh

» Club promoter: 9-year-old Tokyo pimp (whose name sounds like “Itchiako Guru”).
» Answers the question: “WHAT?”
» Trance.
» Stilts.
» Throw-up music.
» An albino that looks like Susan Powter.
» Teddy Graham people. (“When a guy has the stumpy arms but with the belly.”)

Third Club: Twice

» Rabbi that looks like Joaquin Phoenix.
» Club owner: Robert Blake.
» Goths.
» Carnival barkers.
» Groups of guys with Afros in graduation caps.
» Human fire hydrants. (“When high-waisted midgets have the red pants and the big ass.”)

Seth’s assessment: “Visions a dying gay man might have if he was under too many blankets.”

Second Appearance – May 15, 2010

First Club: Slice

» Club promoter: Gay Leoda.
» Twinks.
» Gypsies.
» Grown men in wedding dresses.
» A cat from a bodega.
» Puppets in disguise. (“When Alf wore a trenchcoat so he could go out into public.”)

Second Club: Taste

» Nightlife designer: Tranny Griffith
» Answers the question: “HUH?”
» Bouncers: 10 jacked homeless guys wearing old-fashioned bathing suits.
» Ice sculptures.
» Winos.
» Germphs (German Smurphs).
» A Teddy Ruxpin wearing mascara.
» An old lady with Kid ‘n Play hair.
» DJ Baby Bok Choy. (“A giant 300-pound Chinese baby who wears tinted aviator glasses and spins records with his little ravioli hands.”)

Third Club: Slash

» Glass.
» Steam.
» Bear traps.
» Black George Washington.
» Human bathmats. (“When midgets have dreadlocks and they lay face down on the floor.”)

Seth’s Assessment: “Nightmares of a crystal meth addict.”

Third Appearance – October 23, 2010

First Club: Trash

» Pierre, the Muslim Elvis impersonator.
» Clones.
» Freaks.
» Sneezing.
» A Russian man on a pre-paid cell phone.
» At the door, do the Cosby face.

Second Club: Gush

» Club owner: Gaye Dunaway
» Answers the question: “NOW?”
» Geeks.
» Sherpas.
» A Jamaican nurse wearing a shower cap.
» Broken mirrors.
» Mick Jagger? No. A fat kid on a slip-n-slide. (“His knees look like biscuits and he’s ready to party.”)

Third Club: Push

» Ghosts.
» Banjos.
» Carl Paladino.
» A stuck-up kitten who won’t sign autographs.
» Furkels. (Fat Urkels: “After you’ve been with one of those guys, you’ll ask yourself, ‘Did I do that?’”)

Seth’s Assessment: “A tour of a coked-up gay Candyland.”

Fourth Appearance – December 11, 2010

First Club: Ounce

» Located in the middle of the East River.
» Cholos.
» Puke people.
» A sheepdog that looks like Bruce Vilanche.
» Puppets doing karate. (“When someone calls Miss Piggy fat and she goes ‘Hiiiiiya!’”)

Second Club: Oonce

» Club owner: Tranderson Cooper
» Answers the question: “DO I HAVE TO?”
» Schizos.
» Kite enthusiasts.
» Blingo (Black Ringo).

Third Club: Blitzen!

» 12 jacked albinos.
» 11 Little Richards.
» 10 pierce-eared babies.
» 9 Asian Balkys.
» 8 gay Aladdins.
» 7 psychos swearing.
» 6 Puerto Screeches (Puerto Rican Screeches).
» 5 homeless Elmos.
» 4 coked-up frogs.
» 3 French hens.
» Taylor Negron.
» Human parking cone. (“When two jacked midgets paint themselves orange and you have to parallel park between them.”)

Seth’s Assessment: “Don’t you want to just have a normal Christmas?”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dysG12QCdTA

You may recall that according to the beliefs of Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (of which I am a member), pirates are “absolute divine beings,” essentially the great prophets of Pastafarianism. It has never been a secret to me that there are gay pirates, but it is a sad part of our church’s history that gay pirates have been treated just as poorly as any other members of the LGBT communities.

I applaud Cosmo for bringing attention to this sensitive issue.

As I wrote last year and discussed on yesterday’s Queer and Queerer, Thanksgiving has an underlying assumption that God is responsible for those things. So today, rather than just thinking about WHAT you’re thankful for, think about WHO you’re thankful to.

We’re all just monkeys in shoes and all we have is each other, so take a few minutes today to show your appreciation to those who have made a difference in your life.

I know that I am thankful to all of you out there who support me and this little old blog I write. It’s not been an easy year, but it’s meant a lot to have your support and your feedback.

Best wishes for a lovely day with friends and family.

I also wanted to track who all wrote about encountering me at the rally. That’s what this post is for. I hope you don’t think it too egotistical or anything. I really wanted to make a difference and get people thinking, so… I don’t know… I’m just kind of curious to see what impact I had. Given how many people dressed as Waldo, you can’t blame me for wondering who found me.

Here are the mentions of me and my sign I’ve found in no particular order. I’ll keep it updated if I find more. I feel like some kind of superhero or something, because I’m nameless in most of these stories.

» I added my sign to the Huffington Post gallery. Won’t you vote for it?

» Chris Johnson of the Washington Blade interviewed me and included me and my sign in his story on the rally.

» Samantha, intern from WYPR’s Midday with Dan Rodricks, interviewed me for Monday’s show.

» Annie Groer of AOL News’ Politics Daily found me. (Her short list of signs also pops up on many comment forums.)

» Jonathan Kay of the Canadian National Post found me.

» New York Magazine found me.

» LA News Monitor found me.

» A blogger named “svalbard” glomped me.

» Some folks on tumblr found me. One reacted to my sign: “Life = made.”

But I’m in a good kind of a pain right now, because I spent almost seven hours on my feet giving out hugs at Saturday’s huge Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear. Aside from a few little press interviews and one five-minute break to eat a snack, I was “on duty” from 9 until almost 4. I didn’t keep count, but this militant atheist with a gay agenda easily gave up to 150 hugs/hour, so I guesstimate I gave around 1000-1200 hugs.

(I’m kind of bummed the Christian Science Monitor didn’t quote me in its story despite interviewing me; I was really curious to see how I would have been portrayed there.)

I had no comprehension of what was happening on the stage at the rally. In fact, I didn’t see any clips until the next day! But I had an amazing time, nonetheless—perhaps the best day of my life. I definitely feel I made a difference, and I had to convince myself to leave when I did, though there was still a steady flow of huggable traffic.

I don’t have any sentimental videos to show you, but let me tell you a little bit about what it’s like to give people hugs all day.

First of all, let me share something kind of depressing. A lot of people are afraid to ask for hugs. I spent the whole day standing in the flow of traffic, but I didn’t shout out to solicit at all. Many stopped to take pictures of me and my sign, most of whom politely asked if they could. I usually replied, “So long as I get a hug out of it,” in which case I always did. But there were so very many who read the sign, smiled, and made extended eye contact… but kept walking. Quite a few said, “Keep up the good work,” and a surprising number gently patted my shoulder as they walked past, as if to say, “I’m with you.”

Every once in a while, when someone made casual contact like that, I would offer, “Do you want one?” or even, “Oh, come on, you know you want one.” And there would be this sense of relief and a smile as they eagerly came in for a hug. I didn’t want to push (or guilt) anyone into a hug they didn’t want, but it was amazing to see how many people wanted hugs but didn’t feel it was their place to ask despite my obvious offer.

This, alone, seems to me a stunning commentary on the state of things in our society. Here was a huge group of people at what had to be the most mild-mannered rally of its size ever, and there were people who still felt reluctant to let themselves enjoy some social contact that was freely offered. Are we afraid of each other? Are we afraid of love? Are we afraid to let ourselves be loved? Do people feel like they don’t deserve hugs? I really wonder about the state of things that so many would feel they couldn’t ask someone as obviously goofy as me for a hug.

Don’t get me wrong, there are certainly folks who don’t like hugs. I happily offered many high fives and (terrorist) fist bumps to folks who didn’t want to be touchy-feely. But what I’m talking about is folks who really wanted to hug, but just didn’t feel comfortable asking. It was also evident that seeing other people hug me set an example that “made it okay,” and so folks would come in clumps, but people who didn’t see me hugging someone else were less apt to ask for a hug themselves. This phenomenon, more than anything else, has me inspired to continue my own Free Hugs campaign in the future.

But let’s put those thoughts aside and focus on the positive. Hugs really are amazing. I had hugs of all kind. I had full-on hugs, one-arm hugs, side hugs (not Christian though), hugs from behind, group hugs, long meaningful hugs, awkwardly long waiting-for-the-friend-to-figure-out-the-camera hugs, running-start pick-up-and-spin-around hugs, and whoa-careful-you-almost-tackled-me-to-the-ground hugs. (Starting to understand why I’m sore now?) Hugs can be awkward if you don’t know where each other’s arms or heads are going, but they all turn out just right in the end. Sometimes I could see hug-wanters coming from many yards away by the look in their eyes and the intense bee line they were making for me. Other times people passed by and then turned around and came back because they just couldn’t pass one up.

I hugged people of all genders (including beyond the binary, as one person disclosed), ethnicities, religions, and ages.

I actually found a lot of middle-aged and older women were eager to get hugs. One woman said, “I hope you don’t mind grandma hugs.” Who minds grandma hugs?!?! (If there is a People Against Grandma Hugs group out there somewhere, it is officially my mission to destroy you!) Some younger kids were shy about hugs, and one hug with a little kiddo backfired when my shoulder and his head met in an unfortunate way! He jokingly wobbled around as if I’d just knocked him out. Don’t worry, he was okay! Hug mishaps will happen, and we made sure he got a good one.

Two couples insisted their (“progressive,” as one qualified) infants in strollers be photographed with me. In both cases, I double checked to make sure they weren’t worried I’d rub off on the toddlers. I even hugged a few pregnant women, so all the pro-lifers out there will surely count each as two hugs.

Women seemed slightly more interested in hugs than men. Many had their boyfriends photograph them hugging me, but the boyfriends were not as interested in hugging (though plenty did). When posing for pictures with women (particularly older women), it was not uncommon for their hands to just happen to be on my butt. My butt was never squeezed—at no point did I feel violated—but there their hands were. I felt a little dirty, but not in a bad way! I was happy to see that plenty of guys sought out hugs of their own volition, too. One guy, who was presumably straight and quite confident in his sexuality, insisted on a long, sensual hug, adding, “Yeah, just hold me gently.” He was quite handsome and I happily obliged.

Interestingly, many of the guys who wanted hugs gave real hugs, not feeling the need for the 3-pat “I’m-not-gay” hug variety. Some of these guys even made the necessary “I’m straight, but I’ll still hug you” disclaimer (as if my “gay agenda” meant I only gave gay hugs?), but still gave real hugs. I wonder if the “straight” hug only comes into play between guys who know each other, but with a complete stranger, guys feel more comfortable giving the meaningful kind of hugs we all treasure.

Many folks were quite excited about my gay agenda. A few straight folks weren’t sure if they could really be a part of the gay agenda, but offered that they certainly supported it. I told them I was pretty sure they didn’t have to be gay to be part of the gay agenda, but that I’d get in touch with the gay leadership on high and get back to them.

I felt bad that not all the hugs I gave were of the same caliber. Often times I’d be bombarded in all directions by huggers and I didn’t do them all justice, though plenty complimented me on my hugging ability. Other hugs were incredibly meaningful, and you could tell that those folks really needed those hugs. One woman was particularly gracious to get a hug, because she simply hadn’t had one that day. I was quite surprised by the number of people who expressed, “I love you,” and a few added a kiss on the cheek to the encounter.

One girl let me have one of her french fries. Another fed me a bite of her salad. (I’m really hoping she doesn’t have mono.) One gentleman handed me a candy bar, which I promptly “paid forward” to a very young girl who passed by with a sign that says “I want candy.” At some point my sign inherited a pro-birth control sticker, but my favorite takeaway was a pin that said “Christine O’Donnell is not me!”

At one point, a reporter who was doing some live interviews nearby stepped away from his crew for a moment and said, “I couldn’t not give you one.” He didn’t interview me or anything. He just got his hug then rejoined his crew as they moved onto another area of the rally.

I hugged a Cylon (Toasters United Against Teabaggers), a male butterfly, a rodeo cowboy, Cookie Monster, and Bert. Bert informed me that he had just proposed to his now-fiance (who I also hugged) and that they were going to the courthouse Monday morning to get married. After I congratulated them, he told me she likes it when he wears the Bert suit, which she confirmed. I told her I agreed that he looked good in it. I then suggested that she’s into furries, which she also confirmed. (I later spotted them walking hand-in-hand without his Bert-head, and he looked pretty good without it too.)

I hugged Muslims, Hindus, Jews, Catholics, Christians, and probably more. Several Christians (and only Christians) felt the need to disclose their religion when hugging a “militant atheist” such as myself. One gentleman informed me he was a Christian missionary but he still loved me; I told him I loved him back. Several wished blessings upon me. Toward the end of the day, a woman started talking to me all about her integrated church and how it’s great to have so many different perspectives there. She then told me she’d pray for me and I politely invited her to visit my blog and read about why I prefer people not pray for me. I was shocked and impressed when she then volunteered, “Well, I suppose prayer is more for ourselves than for anybody else.” I smiled and nodded.

Of course, there were plenty of atheists. Some were just as visible about it, but for many, it was a dirty little secret they whispered in my ear as we hugged. Clearly, the message of sanity resonated a lot with the free-thinking community, and I was really delighted to see so many proud nonbelievers. I also relished the chance to visit with them afterward at a gathering Hemant Mehta organized. While I didn’t get to talk to too many people there, I really appreciated the connections I did make and the feeling of being in such rational company.

One hug from the day will stick out in my mind for the rest of my life. The woman informed me that her son, now deceased, had been both gay and atheist, and it meant so much to her that I was there. We exchanged no other words, but no more needed said. A tear formed in her eye as she hugged me with all the love she clearly has for her son.

Giving free hugs is not an original idea, and I won’t pretend that there’s anything special about my own effort to give hugs. It was also an exhausting day, and I was so tired I didn’t go out or touch base with any of my other friends who were in town. Nonetheless, it was one of the most amazing days of my life. There is a lot that we all disagree on, but hugs bridge all gaps. Love bridges all gaps. No day might ever compare to the one I just had, but I look forward to the love we can all share in days to come.

If you asked me for a hug, thanks. It meant as much to me as I hope it did to you. If you didn’t get one, there’s always one waiting… and as many more as you need.

Sarah Palin, you say you can see us from your vindow. Vell, ve can also see you from our vindow, and ve like vhat ve see.

So says Vlad, one of six memorable characters who weave together Peterson Toscano’s new play, I Can See Sarah Palin From My Window: Lessons Before The Second Coming. Those familiar with Toscano’s previous productions like Doin’ Time in the Homo No Mo’ Halfway House will remember Vlad other characters and will be delighted by a few newcomers like Elizabeth Jeremiah who have all come out to share some life lessons with the Queen of FOX News.

Undoubtedly, Sarah Palin has become a huge fixture in American politics and culture, and who better to respond to this behemoth than the many faces of Peterson Toscano? But From My Window is not your run-of-the-mill SNL gotcha-comedy; Toscano will tell you early into the show (as he doesn’t read from his hand) that he expects more of himself and so should his audience. Rather, Toscano uses Ms. Palin as a platform for 21st Century American values, discussing lessons from the Old and New Testament, environmentalism, as well as issues around race, gender, and sexual orientation.

Don’t worry, you won’t feel like you’re in school. The characters’ entertaining “lessons” are seamlessly woven together with Toscano’s own personal stories for a two hour journey that will split your Cheechakos from your Sourdoughs. With moments both zany and solemn, From My Window paints a picture of American patriotism that simultaneously challenges and reinforces our roles and responsibilities as “allegiant” citizens. More importantly, the brilliantly fresh approach to time-old controversial topics will give audience members from all political and religious perspectives something new to think about as they leave the theatre.

Ultimately, this is a show about caretaking. Toscano certainly hopes Ms. Palin might learn a thing or two from his show, but he also suggests we might learn a thing or two from her—namely, how can we all be Mama Grizzlies for this great world of ours? As part of the production, Toscano invites audience members to help raise money for microloan foundation Kiva.org, with a fundraising twist that echoes the show’s themes of community care. Laughter is the driving force in the production, but From The Window also delivers an emotional depth that may surprise.

When asked who their favorite characters were, audience members will undoubtedly reply, “All of ‘em, any of ‘em that have been in front of me.” And while Toscano’s complex characters provide a unique lens for thinking about Sarah Palin, it is ultimately through Ms. Palin that Toscano provides us with a lens for our own lives.

I Can See Sarah Palin From My Window premieres this Saturday at 8:00 PM at the Rainbow Players Theater Company in Allentown, PA.

Click here for booking information.

And no, I’m pretty sure this is not a Poe. [Hmm... it really has to be. But it's a good Poe, because it surely has folks on both sides fooled. If people believe it is real, does that make it real?]

I don’t know that I’m the most stereotypical gay. The closet is a figment of my imagination at this point, so I wouldn’t be fooling anybody, but my behaviors don’t necessarily fit. Let’s take a look at how Christwire wants women to identify gay men and see how I fit. (Forewarning: All gay men are obsessed with sex, drugs, and their own bodies.)

By the way, the picture is your first clue: if he’s skinny (skinnier than you), hairless, and has messy Elijah Wood hair, you might be in a really stereotyping photoshoot.

1) Secretive late night use of cellphones and computers

Hmm… I suppose I’m not really secretive about my late night computer use. It’s about 9:30 PM right now as I’m working on this post, which will be visible to the world wide web, so I guess that’s not very secretive.  The author (a man) tells women that “for the sake of trust, a married couple should share everything, including phone logs, email accounts, chat friends and website histories.” Why do I have a hunch a man could easily set up this arrangement specifically to make it easier to hide what he was doing? Hello, Google Chrome Incognito.

2) Looks at other men in a flirtatious way

Alright, guilty as charged. In fact, I struggle with being subtle with my flirtation. I admitted on this week’s Queer and Queerer that I openly objectify my attractive friends. Sorry unattractive friends; when it comes to ogling, I’m as superficial as the next guy. I particularly love my straight male friends who openly flirt back; now that is trust and security in masculinity. Kudos, boys, for getting over yourselves.

3) Feigning attention in church and prayer groups

Not me. While churches might be the best place to pick up dudes, this atheist doesn’t need any closet cases in his life. Sorry, boys, but you won’t have me to prey pray on.

4) Overly fastidious about his appearance and the home

Well, I shower. I don’t have the “certain amount of grit” that “natural men” who sweat and smell have, but I don’t tweeze or get picky about my shampoo. Heck, I’m so old-fashioned I still use a wash cloth and bar soap. That’s gotta give me some straight points. Remind me what this has to do with whether or not I like cock? (Sorry potential employers who are reading this; I’m just being derisive for humorous effect. I hope you’re laughing!)

5) Gym membership but no interest in sports

Nope. Well, not really. I’m not interested in sports, but I don’t have a gym membership either. Just think how much I’ll be able to enjoy life without all the time wasted on my body for the sake of appealing to other guys who are so superficial that not having a six-pack is a deal-breaker. I can be healthy without spending every day trying to look like a Chippendale. Please. (Also, not a big fan of bathroom sex here. Hey! That’s what the article alleges!)

6) Clothes that are too tight and too “trendy”

I do think I look better it fitted clothes, but I’m hardly trendy. My wardrobe largely comes from Kohl’s, Old Navy, and Aeropostale. To all the gay men out there who just fainted, I do at least own one item of clothing from A&F (a super comfy cashmere scarf!). I certainly don’t own skinny jeans, and I don’t have to look at my butt in the mirror to know it looks good, thank you very much.

7) Strange sexual demands

So get this, heteros. If you want butt-sex from your lady, or you want her to tie you up and use you, that means you’re probably gay. You’re not allowed to be adventurous (or even curious) without having “deep emotional abnormalities.” Fetishes are fun. I don’t know who this Stephenson Billings guy is who wrote this POS article, but I’m worried about him. TALK ABOUT REPRESSION. (I’d rather talk about kink!)

8) More interested in the men than the women in pornographic films

There are porn films with women in them? Gross.

(I love you ladies, but… you know.)

9) Travels frequently to big cities or Asia

It’s true that gay culture only exists in Asia. Wait, what? I mean, it’s true that gay culture only exists in big cities. It’s annoying. It drives me crazy that central PA doesn’t have any bathhouses. I mean, where’s a guy supposed to go for lots of random anonymous sex in middle America? (Just kidding, folks, I don’t even know where to go with this one… Thailand?)

10) Too many friendly young male friends

Long hugs with young guys… nice. Incidentally, it was a straight man who bought me that scarf I referenced earlier. He was a good guy. And roommate. I miss him.

He was straight; I promise.

I guess I do have lots of young guy friends, but I’m a young guy, so, I guess, that’s just the way it goes.

11) Sassy, sarcastic and ironic around his friends

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

12) Love of pop culture

Meh. Apparently, “genuine heterosexual men” avoid gossip websites, Glee, and The Golden Girls. I don’t read gossip sites at all, and I’m not overly thrilled with The Golden Girls (at least not like my gay breathren), but I do love Glee. I’m going to say that this one does not adequately apply to me. Do I care that Chelsea Handler is going to host the MTV Video Music Awards? Who?

13) Extroverted about his bare chest in public

Uhhhhh… nope. No shirtlesness, no speedo at the beach.

14) Sudden heavy drinking

I don’t need to hide my distress. No drinking binges, no smoking, no crying. Sorry, Christwire.

15) Ladies, have you dated men in the past who turned out to be gay?

I did date a few girls in high school. Two of them are currently married. I should go ask them…

So how did I score? Only like… five? But you know what? I am gay.

Hey men, don’t beat yourself up. You don’t have to change who you are to be gay. Just come out and be yourself and be happy. Don’t ruin these poor women’s lives. You don’t need them worrying that they’re going to Hell because they think they’ve been infected with teh gay.

I guess I get an extra point for saying “teh.”

I mean that. You know, sometimes people write long treatises disagreeing with you, and those can be frustrating, but hatemail and disparaging comments are just funny.

The comment came from Aaron on my post about the book Negrophilia. As you recall, this was a book that was heralded by WingNutDaily because a black man was promoting white privilege. It was absurd and needed called out.

Before we get to Aaron’s comment (which has little to do with Negrophilia), you should learn a little about him. I was able to find him on Facebook because he provides his email, and while I will protect his information, I will point out that according to his profile pic (the only thing I can see), he identifies with a group called the Unorganized Militia: Propaganda Corps. From what I can gather, this seems to be a pro-2nd amendment (pro-self-defense, pro-gun rights, “pro-America”) group who are apparently anti-racist. This helps illuminate some of the contradictions and misperceptions in Aaron’s comment, but does not account for the inconsistencies in his approach to social justice.

At any rate, let’s see what Aaron had to say.

Come on people! You can’t take Zack Ford serious.

Well, he’s not even ten words in and already has a grammatical error, so the irony abounds.

The guy has a “Donate to queer or queerer” banner up and he looks like the poster boy for arrested development; and that is just what has been purposefully placed to draw the visual attention first.

Technically, I have a “Donate” button for people who want to make a Paypal donation for the work I do here on the blog and a “Queer and Queerer” button for people who want to listen to my delightful podcast with Peterson Toscano. If you expect me to split the money you donate with Peterson, you better specify that when you make the donation!

Now, I’m not sure who the “poster boy” for Arrested Development would be, but if it’s Jason Bateman or Michael Cera, I will take that as a HUGE compliment. It could be that Aaron meant actual arrested development, as in the antiquated term for severe mental impairment. Even if that’s the case, I still take the notion that I’m cute enough to be a poster boy as quite the compliment.

At closer inspection he has put “ZackFord Blogs | Behold the musings of Zack Ford, a politically-minded white, gay, male, nondisabled, middle-class, atheist educator with a passion for social justice.” at the very top of the page. The guy’s schtick is to be outrageous, like a clown. So, how serious should he be considered?

Well, I do try to be funny, although it’s a dry, sarcastic funny that doesn’t always register. I think the people who are the most funny are often the ones to be taken the most seriously. I trust what I get from Jon Stewart a whole lot more than most of those “serious” journalists on the other cable news networks.

In all actuality, if one considers just how many “Hal Turners” there are being Federally funded by traitors matching his individual definition within the Criminal Government, I’d say not much. His “job” is to be an underminer of ethics and morality. He is most likely funded some how by the cowards within the NSA and FBI to perpetuate their treasonous actions against the People of America and Humanity in General by espousing thier nonsensical and absurdist rantings which they hope will distract people lone enough while they continue to sell everyone out to global corporate bankers.

Now, given that he just compared me to a white nationalist/supremacist, I wonder if he didn’t quite read what I’d written. My point was to challenge white privilege, not reinforce it. For what I know of him, I am no more a fan of Hal Turner than Aaron seems to be.

I would not consider this blog my job. It certainly doesn’t pay like one. The three cents I make each day aren’t really my motivation for writing. I also really struggle with conspiracy theories, because they tend to be so rooted in general paranoia, so Aaron’s lost me there.

I am with Aaron on despising global corporate bankers, though. My hope is to raise awareness—to educate—not to distract with nonsense. I wrote something similar myself earlier this summer.

So, don’t take this guy too serious.

His grammar might be wrong, but at least he’s consistent.

He’s just a morally bankrupt peice of subhuman scum who will always ever contend points with absurdities in hopes to make himself appear supperior while building philosphical foundations made up mud and shit.

The angrier people are when they write, the worse their spelling gets. That’s my hunch, at least for Aaron’s sake.

So, I’m morally bankrupt. This is because I challenge racism? Or religious privilege? Or just plain bad ideas?

Subhuman scum. I’m glad to know that I’m both dirty and do not even qualify as a person.

My points are absurd… or he just doesn’t get them.

I have philosophical foundations made up of mud and shit. From what I learned about some Native American tribes in Elementary School, structures made of mud were sturdy and well insulated. I didn’t even realize I talked all that much about philosophical foundations. I just try to be rational, is all.

The latter of which the guy has a deranged fascination for, his being admittingly gay. He is either a packer or receiver of it. Is it any wonder that he espouses it also?

Somehow the fact that I’m gay is connected to my fascination with muddy/shitty philosophical foundations? I’m not sure I even understand that. I mean, I’m assuming Aaron’s got some moral conflicts with homosexuality that he’s implying here. It’s interesting that he struggles against racism and yet perpetuates homophobia. Bummer.

Ah! No, I get it now. I have a fascination with shit. Because I’m a fudge-packer or something. I get it now.

Well, actually, that is wrong. The world doesn’t need to know the details of my sex life, but I’ll share this much: I’m neither a packer nor a receiver. Not all gay men like anal sex; I’ve never had it. So there. Stereotype busted!

I wish Aaron had made one relevant point. Then I wouldn’t have to make fun of his comment in a full post. But, well, there you have it.

Read The Daily Item for yourself:

» Liverpool woman in critical condition today following fall from moving RV

» Peaceful morning disrupted today by a bulldozer

The long list of people we are encouraged to hate:

Union workers — because everyone should enjoy working for $3 an hour.

Illegal aliens — because it’s easier to hate them than the people who have hired them for decades.

Unemployed — because even though they paid unemployment insurance they shouldn’t expect to collect on it.

Welfare folks — we’ve been told to hate them for so many years it’s now part of our DNA.

Non-Christians — because religious freedom went out of style with the Mayflower.

Environmentalists — because their selfish dream of clean air and water has destroyed our economy.

Liberals — because you can never trust anyone who is not driven by pure greed.

Trial lawyers —- akin to a weasel except for corporate trial lawyers.

Minorities — but only until we ourselves become a minority.

Gays — because God has zero tolerance for fornication among those who are not church leaders.

If you listen to politicians and the corporate interests that run our media, you’ll find these groups are targeted over and over. It’s been a distraction as the middle class slowly vanishes.

LORETTA LEHMAN, Wheatfield Twp.

I think she left out judges, whose personal lives and professional standards are scrutinized just for fulfilling their Constitutional obligations.

Rock on, Loretta.

One of the greatest aspects of being at Netroots Nation was connecting with the bloggers that have been my role models. I could look at my RSS feeds and look around the room and see the writers who generate the content I look to everyday.

In the case of meeting Joe Jervis of Joe.My.God, there was an unexpected perk!

Joe posted about the fact that we were in the same hotel as the Chippendales show. It turns out the show’s publicist, Randy Slovacek, is a fan of Joe’s blog (how could you not be?) and invited him (and those of us lucky enough to be standing in earshot when he got the news) to come to the show.

Now, before I say anything else about the show, I’ll say this. Its primary audience is the ladies, and they eat it up! In fact, their drunken bachelorette/birthday antics are as much a part of the entertainment as the men themselves. But—and Randy was insistent about this point—the show is extremely welcoming of gay men. I can testify that this is the case.

Randy had our little #lgbtnn10 contingent set up towards the back, in what was apparently the Olivia Newton-John booth. We thought this was for the best, as we didn’t want to get in the way of the ladies in the audience having a good time. (This may have also been in the best interest of our physical safety.) I would encourage this tactic for other gay men who choose to attend, but trust me, you’ll still enjoy the show.

I laughed pretty much the whole time. My face hurt by the end. It was an incredibly entertaining evening.

Now, I don’t know what you all know about Chippendales. Maybe you think they’re just strippers. Maybe you think they’re just models. Your only frame of reference might be the classic Chris Farley SNL skit. That’s about all I knew going in (aside from what I’d seen plastered all over the hotel).

I knew nothing.

Yes, their bodies are amazing—almost unreal. But these men have talent! Bryan Chan, for example, does some excellent live singing and also emcees the show. Others join in with live guitar or rapping. (I have to say, I found the men even hotter when they exhibited their musical talent, but as a musician myself, I suppose I’m a bit biased in that regard.) Of course, the choreography defines the show, and these men can move. There were also two extra dancers (who I guess are not official Chippendales, persay) that added some extra impressive dance talent to the show.

There were skits. There was audience participation. There were special effects and set changes. It truly was a theatrical experience! Randy and I chatted afterward for a bit about the creative vision behind the show, and there really is a lot of thought put into it. You might have one scene that gets hot and heavy, the next might be of a classier variety, and the next more light with some audience participation. The ebb and flow keeps the show engaging and interesting, without ever skimping on the hottness.

I also sort of noticed that the show has a lot of similarities to drag. Obviously the appeal of Chippendales is slightly different than drag’s “intrigue of transvesticism” (as Tim Minchin calls it). But consider: they both have lip-syncing and choreography; they both depend on physical spectacle; and they both can be extremely cheesy (or campy, as in the case of drag). They’re sort of two ends of the same stick—men portraying the extremes of men and women. I don’t think this observation detracts from either kind of show, but is definitely interesting to consider. (I actually saw a great drag show later that night; if you’re ever in Vegas, go see the fabulous Shawn M at Free Zone. She does an amazing Sarah Palin and Madonna, and she’s a delight to chat with as well!)

One last thing I have to say about Chippendales is that the guys were actually quite nice. A few of them even came out and greeted us with handshakes and bro-hugs. Can you say you’ve been hugged by a Chippendale? I can.

Now, Randy informed us that the entire cast is currently straight. Word on the street is that this may not be the case, but I will not delve into Vegas gossip here at ZFb. Ultimately, I don’t think it matters. I find the strippers in gay bars to be way too sexual and “dirty” anyway. Contrastingly, the Chippendales men look great, they’re clearly having a good time, and it’s a classy and entertaining show for everybody.

I have to really thank Randy for inviting us to the show and treating us so well, including drinks and gift bags. It was quite a generous gesture, and I was under no obligation to praise the show as I have—the show earned it. If you go to Vegas, make sure you head over to the Rio and see the Chippendales. GAY MEN ARE WELCOME!!

I also want to thank Joe for writing an awesome blog and for being a great new friend. Our night at Chippendales will be a memory I won’t soon forget.

Like a good (gay) son, I got my mother hooked on watching Glee. This was a mistake. Now, every week, she wants to watch, but then I have to hear about everything she doesn’t like about the show. The most common complaint? “The plot is so unrealistic.” My most common response? “Duh.”

But I think there are all things that we don’t like about Glee. Here are a few of mine. Don’t worry, I’m not going to dwell on these; I’ll only be talking about Glee in a positive light after I get through them.

First and foremost, given my background in music education, I hate how easy they make show choir look, especially with the absurd quantity of songs they develop.  The same goes for “the band” that just happens to always be there to slavishly play at the group’s whim, plus the sets that build themselves, the lights that set themselves, and the costumes that sew (or buy) themselves. (I got over all this back at the pilot, but it’s still in the back of my mind every week.)

I hate Sandy Ryerson, the creepy-ass glee club director, who luckily hasn’t been around as much as he was at the beginning. Similarly, there are some weeks where I hate Kurt too. Gay men have only been demonized as pedophiles since they first started coming out—can’t we make them just a little less creepy and stalkery in 2010? Similarly, it’d be nice if Artie could show us what it means to be a part of the disability community instead of playing out the tired old “I still want to walk/dance” plot line. I think we got enough of that from Jason Street on Friday Night Lights, thank you very much. And let’s not get started on the racist jokes that make it into almost every episode.

And last but certainly not least, the show absolutely drives me crazy with all its loose plot lines. I don’t expect full treatment of every character in every episode, but can’t we at least pretend that the previous episode happened? For example, Burt kicked Finn out of their house. So……… what happened to Finn? Nada.

But when I sit down and think about these things, I remember something very important:

Glee is unique.

That’s the entire reason Glee works. It doesn’t try to be anything else. There’s really no model for a television show like it. It lives in its own world.

And I think that’s why we’re unfazed by our own critiques. See, we try to fit Glee into the schema we have for all other television shows and it just doesn’t work.

We see an uplifting show about a group of outcasts succeeding and we think, “Oh, this should have a lot of positive messages like a good after-school special!” Nope.

We see a complex serial drama with interweaving story lines and think to ourselves, “Oh, I can expect to see the next part of the story in the next episode!” Nope, not necessarily.

We have watched so much reality television that we see things on Glee and think, “Oh, that would never happen,” but yeah, on Glee, it does.

What is this amorphous quality that makes us like Glee despite all its incongruities? Why is it that we continue to be obsessed about a show that simultaneously drives us kind of crazy? How does it make us cry when we feel like we haven’t even gotten sufficient character development?

The answer, my friends, is not so amorphous. Glee is musical theatre.

Did you not realize? It’s been hiding there all along.

Most people that I know who claim to not like musicals say it’s because they think it’s unrealistic the way people just break into song. Well, duh, it’s a musical. Hey, this conversation sounds familiar…

Have you ever wondered why “camp” (as in over-the-top extravagant expressionism), and by association, the stereotypical personality of gay men, is all associated with musical theatre? That’s what makes musical theatre work! Musical theatre has to take itself too seriously and be over the top. (And for gay men, this reflects the freedom of not conforming to masculinity as part of hiding in the closet.) For example, in Oklahoma! (a classic), Curly doesn’t really care that it’s a beautiful morning; he’s just horny for Laurey (who later has one of musical theatre’s many drug-induced ballet “dreams”). Realistic? Not entirely. Frankly, think of any musical’s impact and imagine it working without the music. It doesn’t. Let’s not even consider Cats. Yikes.

Music enhances the drama. Music helps us escape the drab reality we live in and takes us to a heightened emotional state. It communicates things we can’t say with words. It builds a connection between us as human beings that is unique. Just as the music lifts us just a little above reality, so too are we then able to appreciate plots that are a little above reality. It’s the music that grounds them for us. The plot lines, at face value, are absurd and campy, but they still reflect real emotions and feelings we can appreciate. The music lets them make sense, and if anything, the impact is all the greater for it. The whole experience is an emotional extravaganza, and when it’s over, we float back down to earth.

Think about this week’s finale. I was really bored by Vocal Adrenaline’s performance of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” but I loved the way it was juxtaposed with Quinn giving birth (which we knew had to happen in this episode). It was kind of hokey, but it still worked. It used music to tell the story. (Psst… that’s musical theatre.) And of course “To Sir, With Love” and “Over The Rainbow” made us cry. Hell, “To Sir” even made Sue tear up! Those songs communicated something that mere spoken word couldn’t have replicated. Music is that venue and we just get lost in it and it feels wonderful.

Further proof is in how barren we feel by the emotionally charged scenes that do not include music. They feel quite real, and often quite salient. Think back to when Will finally found out that Terri was faking the pregnancy and the way he unloaded on her. It was so raw, but felt so validating after weeks of her scheming. There was nothing fantastical about it. The same was true of when Kurt’s dad lectured Finn for calling Kurt a “fag” (which I think was one of the most important scenes the show has ever aired). These are the little clues that remind us that the show takes itself seriously and that we should too. Of course it’s absurd most of the time; that’s by design. But it’s that “camp” that helps us appreciate reality all that much more.

Glee isn’t fabulous because Jane Lynch is funny or Cory Monteith is cute. It’s not because Lea Michele and Matthew Morrison sing our pants off every week. It isn’t even because of Madonna, Lady Gaga, or Journey. In the end, all our little complaints melt away and we love Glee because Glee reminds us what it feels like to love one another.

Musical theatre is kind of weird; I’ll be the first to admit it. Think whatever you want of it, but you can’t deny it makes you feel. Glee has successfully encapsulated that for us in weekly supplements in a way television has never tried. It brings us together and I think it deserves a standing ovation.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9_fmN_1Ydw

I’d like to think that I have more of a bit-by-bit approach, although the use of the list would be more efficient.

I guess the Dilbert characters are all “angry” and “aggressive” when they express their atheism and skepticism.  They’re always hurting people’s feelings.

I’m not feeling the greatest about life today. We all have days like that. I thought I’d write a little poem to demonstrate how atheism can be uplifting.

Some Days Just Suck
Zack Ford – May 18, 2010

Some days just suck.

Some days you don’t feel useful.
Some days you don’t feel worthy.
Some days you don’t feel competent.
Some days you don’t feel loved.

Some days just suck.

Some days there is no one to blame.
Some days it’s no one’s fault.
Some days nothing can be done.
Some days are just the way they are.

Some days just suck.

Some days you can’t flirt.
Some days you can’t visit friends.
Some days you can’t give of yourself to the world.
Some days you need a little affirmation anyway.

Some days just suck.

Some people give God credit for good days.
Some people give God blame for bad days.
Some people give God credit for bad days.
God doesn’t have a plan.

Some days just suck.
And that’s that.

And some days are all the better for it.

She and her wife have been together since 1998, have been domestic partners (NJ) since 2004, have been in a civil union (NJ) since 2007, and then last year had no legal recognition of their relationship when they moved to Virginia.

Well, just a few weeks ago, Carol and her wife Jodie got officially married in Washington, DC, and now have the legal recognition to match the title they’ve been using for years. Congrats Carol and Jodie!!

To see more Faces For Equality, check out the whole collection of profiles by clicking below.

I try to do both, but like the smartass in today’s xkcd, I spend more time thinking about content. I want readers who come to the site because they are interested in the content, and hopefully want to interact with it.

How am I doing, dutiful reader(s)?

President Obama stated, “While I have problems with puppets on religious grounds, I made a commitment to be an advocate for them in this White House, and I fully intend to stick to my word…when I get around to it.”

Defense Secretary Gates has announced a more humane interpretation of No Strings, stating, “only high ranking officers can stick their hands up a soldier to prove he’s a puppet.”

Former Congressman Massa (D) has become an advocate for Puppet Rights after a private meeting with Lt. Tickle Me Elmo.

Former VP candidate Sarah Palin said, “Whatever you want to do in the privacy of your home is fine by me, but I will not have you teaching my children about counting, sharing, or anything else in your puppet agenda.”

Here are some of the posts from this past week I mentioned in the video:

» Dan Choi, HRC, The “Schism,” and Mixed Messages
» I Saw Maggie Gallagher in Person! Nothing to report.

Here’s a photo of me and my co-intern Peper with Norm the Navel from 2007:

Here’s a video news report about the recycling plant fire I described:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNOyEIs2R0w

And here is the completely unnecessary 404 logo, an homage to Homestar Runner.

There’s also a special logo for the secret page, if you can find it!

If you think you might want to donate to ZFb, click the button the top of the left-hand sidebar. Your support is much appreciated!

» It’s named for a patron Saint who was a religious leader.

» It is a Catholic Holiday.

» It celebrates the superstition of luck.

» It celebrates believing in mythical creatures (whose myth also reinforces capitalism).

» Green is so not my color.

Here are reasons I do like St. Patrick’s Day:

» Green is so my blog’s color.

» Any excuse to include rainbows is a good one.

» Despite the clues in its name, most people forget it’s named after a saint.

» In US celebrations, there are no references to the religion behind the holiday.

» Did I mention there is Irish blood flowing through these veins?

» The primary celebration of the event is drinking and having a good time.

I actually think that if the Jews had led more crusades, we’d commit to the same level of celebration for Purim.

Be safe and have a good time everybody!!

Recently, I did block the site “ladyboykisses.com” after one of my readers pointed out that the site used the offense terminology of “shemales” to advertise itself. I definitely do not want my readers to be uncomfortable or attacked, but as long as it’s not outwardly offensive, it can stay on the site.

Today, I noticed another interesting juxtaposition. Check it out (click to embiggen):

There are a surprising number of Scientology ads appearing here on the blog. They are incredibly vague and bizarre. For the record, SCIENTOLOGY is a dangerous cult who doesn’t care about your happiness, only about controlling your life and all of your assets! If you choose to click on an ad, do so very cautiously and do not buy in to anything they tell you!! With this in mind, their ads are kind of amusing. One says:

To love is the road to strength; to love in spite of all is the secret of greatness. Scientology.org

Huh? I actually kind of agree with that sentiment, but I fail to see how that has anything to do with the absurd beliefs (redundant, I know) and manipulative tactics of the Church of Scientology.

Here’s another:

Who am I? Where am I going? What am I? What do I want to be? What do I want to have? Scientology.org

Scientology offers the following answers, respectively: “Nobody;” “Broke;” “A pawn;” “Brainwashed;” “No free will.”

And here’s another:

You are not your name, your job, or the clothes you wear, so who are you? Scientology.org

That’s right, Scientology gets to decide who you are. By the way, I’m still Zack Ford, and that’s not changing any time soon.

Another:

Love, Hate, What is the answer? Scientology.org

What is the answer? What is the question?

And this one takes the cake:

You live. You hope. You dream. So who are you? Know yourself. Know life. Scientology.org

Scientology isn’t really happy about all that living, hoping, and dreaming. They’ll help you stop all that.

Anyways, if you see a Scientology ad, have a good laugh. If you think I should block these ads, feel free to comment and say so. I’ll consider it.

In case you missed it, here was the other funny ad juxtaposition I found last week. Enjoy:

Without a doubt, the anonymous nature of Chatroulette has a profound impact on how people interact with it. Even though faces are much less anonymous than simple screennames like in the chat rooms of yore, there is still a sense of freedom and liberation that makes Chatroulette interactions quite different than how people interact in person. It’s sort of like “no strings attached” interactions with people. If people embarrass themselves, it doesn’t matter, because they just hit Next! and all trace of them is gone. This allows people the freedom to talk more openly about sex and sexual behavior more than you’d usually expect, and while not everyone is masturbating on cam, it seems that people’s motivations for meeting others on Chatroulette are driven to at least some extent by their sex drive and attractions.

One question that will plague curious social scientists like me is: “What motivates a Next!?” More often than not, the Next! happens instantaneously, a split-second superficial judgment. What assumptions are made from that first glimpse? What are people’s expectations and who do they really want to meet? At first, it might be easy to take it all personally, but you soon realize it’s just the nature of the beast. And before you know it, that whole “give each person a chance” thing just isn’t working for you. And soon, you have to start examining your own motivations, because you are Next!ing people just as quickly. If I were to be honest, I would have to admit that I had made judgments based on age, race, gender, and looks, among other things. So what is it that I would prefer to find? What are my motivations at any given moment during my spin on Chatroulette? I’m not sure I even know, which I think makes Chatroulette an interesting opportunity for not only sociological research but self-reflection as well.

I have observed that there seem to be more men on Chatroulette than women, and that’s even without counting all the men masturbating. As a young, single gay man, I’ll admit that my ego is best pacified by meeting a good-looking guy who enjoys talking to me and this seems to motivate a lot of my Chatroulette choices. And the man-meets-man interactions are an interesting phenomenon. A lot of men are looking for women, so many will Next! me right away, or some will stop to chat for a second just to opine that they haven’t seen enough of the ladies. On the occasion that a guy will stop to have a real conversation, I’ve even begun to assume that they are more than likely gay. Truly, I have met some cute guys who also find me cute and we have an enjoyable little flirtation that totally makes up for all the other garbage on there. On the occasions that I have told guys that they’re cute only to learn that they are straight, I applaud them for being comfortable enough with themselves to take a compliment from a gay guy without just freaking out and hitting Next!. In my opinion, credit is due when credit is deserved.

There are definitely some straight men looking for locker room talk. I play along sometimes, but I generally don’t try too hard to hide the fact that I don’t like the same things they do. It’s amusing to see those reactions. Often, upon the revelation that they are not talking to a fellow straight guy, they Next! right away. Sometimes they’re like, “Oh, that’s cool, that’s cool,” and play it off, but it’s clear then that they are done talking to me because I can’t relate to their love of breasts and vaginas. On several occasions there was confusion and denial; one guy said, “Wait, it almost sounds like you just said you were GAY.” Not almost, buddy; I did!

To try to offset all the guys trolling for tits, whenever a female comes up, I do my best to say nice things to them and be a sassy gay friend. They seem to appreciate it.

I have to share this one other little tidbit, because it just makes me laugh so much. Among the many Chatrouletters intent on just being mean (mostly teenage and college-age guys), there is a significant contingent who believe that identifying a person as “gay” is the meanest thing they can do. Immediately calling a guy a “faggot” must have gotten old, because on my last spin, they tried a different tactic. As soon as I’d appear, they’d insistently ask, “You suck dick?” On the several occasions that this happened, I chose to respond by saying, “Sure, when I feel like it.” Their reactions to this are hilarious. It’s a total backfire of their plan to humiliate me, and it’s clear they have no additional retort. After a few seconds of confusion, they usually just Next! and I move on feeling quite amused.

In education, we learn that a little positive feedback goes a long way, and that’s definitely true on Chatroulette. It only takes one person making you smile to make up for a lot of idiots being dumb. One person just had the words “I love you!” up where their cam should be. It was precious. There are plenty of folks out there just trolling for smiles, and they make it all worth it. That’s what will keep me going back and is surely a notable draw to the bizarre social experiment that is Chatroulette.

Here are some highlights from my latest spin! Click to embiggen each! (Word of advice to those of you thinking about taking screenshots of your experiences: Make sure you look back up at the cam when you’re hitting the Print Screen button… it makes for a much better picture.)

1) Even though one of my very good college friends is an amazingly talented magician, I still never get tired of sleight-of-hand tricks, and that’s exactly what this chatter was offering:

2) Do they even have telephones in Hell? Hopefully for this individual they have webcams in Heaven; he was apparently not blessed with a functioning one on Earth.

3) This guy was one of those super-cute straight guys who was just a delight to chat with. He was Canadian, so of course he was awesome. In case you’re curious, I was chewing when I first appeared on cam.

4) Check this guy out:

He went on to pour lighter fluid all over his hands out of a Bic lighter, explaining that he would bust ninjas up with hands of fire. That’s when I hit Next!

I don’t think I’m done playing with Chatroulette, so if I have more funny experiences, I’ll share them here!