Monday, August 21, 2006

The Children of the Corn(y)

I became embroiled in an online drama that wasn't really mine this past week, simply because I can't stand not to have the last fucking word.

One of my favorite online bloggers, Lady Bunny, posted a comment that was highly critical of Madonna. This, of course, is a loaded topic, because Madonna is one of those people who only seem to inspire very strong feelings--you either worship her or despise her. The kids came out in full force against our Bun-Bun--you would have thought that she'd blown up an Abercrombie and Fitch or something!

Now, curiously, I'm one of those people who can actually take or leave Madonna, depending on the quality of the songs, but I have to say that I've leaned towards the negative the last few years, just because it all sounds like club noise rather than real music. She's had moments of brilliance, however, and I fully give her credit for that. But this messiah-like hero worship? C'mon, kids! This is a woman who saw an opportunity, took intelligent advantage of it, recognized her audience, and played to it for all she's worth. Of course she did. That's what ANY artist does.

She also used religious symbolism as a form of protest, such as Jesus on the cross in the "Like a Prayer" video, thereby incurring the wrath of the Catholic church, as led by the (even then doddering) Pope John Paul II.

Lady Bunny's point in her post was that Madonna is not breaking any new ground and that her recent use of a cross in a concert was a cynical rehash of old shock gimmicks and devoid of any real meaning. She also threw in a few digs, like any good drag queen does. Gotta get the people talking, dontcha know.

Christ, did they. Thousands of nameless, faceless, little hopped-up-on-Ecstasy club zygotes deluged her comments board, calling her all sorts of names, accusing her of being "jealous, fat, untalented," etc. Very few of them actually addressed her point about the use of the cross as an empty gesture, because they were so incensed at somebody criticizing THEIR icon, as if Bunny somehow came late to the party.

Apparently, these little bastards can't use calendars (as well as not being able to read and spell), or they'd realize that Bunny has been around working the New York clubs since the 80s--long before some of their sorry asses popped out of their mothers' whoreholes. She is a DJ and knows the club scene pretty well. A lot of her friends worked with Madonna as she was starting out, too, so she is well-informed.

I, of course, can't keep my pie-hole shut, and when people start attacking my peeps, I'm going to rip off their heads and shit down their throats. I left some pretty narly comments for these kids myself, and for my troubles, I was lambasted in a similar fashion. Their favorite insult was "fat-ass," since apparently that's the highest form of insult in the club kid culture. Hence their predilection for speed and other metabolism and nutrient-draining drugs. Hey! They may have no teeth, but at least they can fit into their size 28 jeans. (Just don't look at their faces.)

What they can't realize is that at my age, I've been called far worse by far better people than they.

I really despair for the future of our so-called "community" if we can't even tolerate differences of opinion on pop culture. I don't even hate Madonna--as I said, I can take or leave her, and I like some of her stuff. I was really only reacting to the nasty comments these kids made about Lady Bunny, whom I regard as brilliant in her own right. I identify with her in lots of ways (and she reminds me of my relatives, with her accent and style of story-telling), and it angered me to see her maligned by these little specks of flyshit. So they all branded me an "ass-kisser." Damned tootin', and proud of it! What are these kids doing besides kissing Madonna's ass, anyway? And do you think she'll appreciate it? Sure--have your people call her peoples' peoples' peoples' people. I'm sure an invitation to dinner is forthcoming. So long as you pay $300 and wait three hours for her to show up.

Curiously enough, none of these little eunuchs on the comment board bothered to sign their name. I include my name and my blog link on all my comments, so they know just who I am, and they can come and spread some of the hate on MY blog if they want. "Let's move the party to my house," so to speak. Also, I figure that if I'm going to take the responsibility of commenting on a topic, I should have enough balls to identify myself.

But it seems that today's gay youth wants to have it all ways: they want the pleasure of shit-talkin' other people (referred to in fag vernacular as "readin'") and still retain the comfort and relative safety of anonymity. They want the freedom of being an adult without the responsibility of treating others in a responsible manner. They tell the world to "talk to the hand." No thanks, punk--Christ only knows where you've had it. Try washing it first.

I'm only glad that they won't be reproducing genetically--this country has reached its Critical Moronic Mass.


Blogger dirk.mancuso said...

"Readin'", huh?

And I had just gotten "trash talking" as part of the lingo.

Fuck. It's so hard being a gay nerd.

2:28 PM  
Blogger Aaron said...

Yes. It's similar to "Jive Talkin'," only not quite so 1975.

3:27 PM  

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