LJ_Reloaded
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- Joined
- Apr 3, 2010
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It's been about a day since I first heard of this and I reportedly laughed in my sleep (probably about this) and can't even fucking get this typed out properly for laughing so hard at this fucking hilarious bullshit.
Brought to you by the feminist version of "Return of Kings".... Jezebel.
Fucking dumbass feminists, damn, hahahahaha oh my God you people ought to be suicidally ashamed of yourselves for pushing homophobic stereotypes like this...
http://lejacquelope.tumblr.com/post/75784999307/the-myth-of-the-fag-hag-and-dirty-secrets-of-the-gay
In my mid-twenties, I learned that taking your female friends to a gay bar is like taking a vegetarian to a butcher shop. There is a lot of meat, a lot of prime cuts, and even a little tripe, but nothing they can eat. While there aren’t any publicly-posted placards posted to the effect of NO BROADS ALLOWED, the unnecessarily long wait times they have to endure to get drinks–watered-down drinks nonetheless–and the degree of stink-eye they receive from bartenders do a great job of conveying that same general message. Shortly thereafter, I began wearying of gay bars in general. My friends were largely women and if they weren’t being treated respectfully–and not getting decent cocktails, then what’s the use of opening a tab?
It’s a dirty secret of a subculture of the gay male world about women: That they’re essentially unwelcome, unless they come to us as a Real Housewife, a pop diva, or an Tony award winner–or an unassuming fag hag. To anyone just coming out of the closet and hoping to get his bearings in the gay male community, the attitude towards women is simple: They are just objects whose function is to serve gay men.
Maybe it happens when gay men get too comfortable in newly-discovered safe spaces–where they get to call the shots as their proudly out new selves. Or maybe it happens through cultural conditioning. Whatever the cause is, it becomes clear: If there isn’t any kind of transactional exchange happening, then women lose their value in gay male subcultures.
When we talk about gay male privilege, it’s important that as gay men, we understand any of us could’ve been–or currently are–perpetrators of this culture, simply by being. In my earliest days of being out of the closet–and among women–I’ve definitely been that jerk in the room that feigned ignorance about female anatomy, that responded with a sneer when a discussion about women’s bodies arose; I’ve been that young gay man that had his collection of divas who wore it better than the rest–pitted them against the collections of other gay guys. When this is your entire world, you misstep, you ride the identity to its outermost limits–and when it stops making sense, you reassess.
Brought to you by the feminist version of "Return of Kings".... Jezebel.
Fucking dumbass feminists, damn, hahahahaha oh my God you people ought to be suicidally ashamed of yourselves for pushing homophobic stereotypes like this...
http://lejacquelope.tumblr.com/post/75784999307/the-myth-of-the-fag-hag-and-dirty-secrets-of-the-gay
In my mid-twenties, I learned that taking your female friends to a gay bar is like taking a vegetarian to a butcher shop. There is a lot of meat, a lot of prime cuts, and even a little tripe, but nothing they can eat. While there aren’t any publicly-posted placards posted to the effect of NO BROADS ALLOWED, the unnecessarily long wait times they have to endure to get drinks–watered-down drinks nonetheless–and the degree of stink-eye they receive from bartenders do a great job of conveying that same general message. Shortly thereafter, I began wearying of gay bars in general. My friends were largely women and if they weren’t being treated respectfully–and not getting decent cocktails, then what’s the use of opening a tab?
It’s a dirty secret of a subculture of the gay male world about women: That they’re essentially unwelcome, unless they come to us as a Real Housewife, a pop diva, or an Tony award winner–or an unassuming fag hag. To anyone just coming out of the closet and hoping to get his bearings in the gay male community, the attitude towards women is simple: They are just objects whose function is to serve gay men.
Maybe it happens when gay men get too comfortable in newly-discovered safe spaces–where they get to call the shots as their proudly out new selves. Or maybe it happens through cultural conditioning. Whatever the cause is, it becomes clear: If there isn’t any kind of transactional exchange happening, then women lose their value in gay male subcultures.
When we talk about gay male privilege, it’s important that as gay men, we understand any of us could’ve been–or currently are–perpetrators of this culture, simply by being. In my earliest days of being out of the closet–and among women–I’ve definitely been that jerk in the room that feigned ignorance about female anatomy, that responded with a sneer when a discussion about women’s bodies arose; I’ve been that young gay man that had his collection of divas who wore it better than the rest–pitted them against the collections of other gay guys. When this is your entire world, you misstep, you ride the identity to its outermost limits–and when it stops making sense, you reassess.