that lefty stuff, my liberal viewpoints, are impeccably progressive.
But on the prejudice scale there is no box for the bigot, the fiscal conservative, the socially right-wing. With my hand on my heart I can say I'm not prejudiced because I'm not prejudiced against the groups that usually suffer prejudice. And with my hand on my heart I can tell you I have nothing but contempt for vast numbers.
I say all of this because at the time I came out I had some residue hatred for homosexuality that I hadn't yet managed to direct somewhere else. It was a while before I learnt to hate the establishment more and hate gays less. The amount of hatred in me didn't reduce, I just redirected it
A psychologist would tell you it was transference, my distaste for other gay students. I found it difficult to handle being gay so I took out my frustration on people who were more confident and open about it than I was.
The sight of two men kissing in public repulsed me. The overly effeminate irked me. And what’s wrong with that? Isn't it possible that the psychologists have it wrong and the biologists have it right? It could be that we're all born with a natural aversion to gay intimacy. It would explain a lot.
It’s taken for granted that boys will beat each other up. They'll play sports. They'll be ambitious and aggressive. All for the evolutionary edge, the progression of the species. It’s not too big a leap to assume we are all born with an impulse to wipe out gayness. Afterall, it threatens the reproduction of our species, it threatens our very survival.
Yet we learn when we are growing up that some of our primeval urges need to be curbed and some are plain wrong. We can't attack, fuck and take indiscriminately. Controlling and suppressing these urges is what growing up is all about. It was just that I hadn't learnt that my dislike of public homosexuality was one of my bad impulses. Nobody had told me.
Though, I was aware, that to have a shot at a happy life it was a feeling I needed to overcome fairly quickly.
49. Jack, writer, womaniser and sometime jock, was the type of guy I could only have ended up being friends with because we had ended up living together through school. One night, arising from one of his days of being a jock, I ended up going out with him and his team mates. It was a long night, which ended with me half-lying, half falling down on his floor in preparation for passing out.
I would have slept immediately, only Jack interrupted me with a question. Lying on his bed, he was smoking his fortieth of the night, the sugar in his blood being too high to get directly to sleep. He asked: "Did you come back here to have a wank? Just to be near me?"
I didn't respond and feigned sleep. Shocked as I was, sleep didn't come. Jack was letting me know he'd heard I was gay, that was obvious. But I couldn't figure out if he was saying it to let me know he knew. Or if he was saying it to make me feel uncomfortable. It was also possible that it was a come on. I’m fairly sure Jack would sleep with anything.
It wasn't long until my drunken mood happened upon rage. I waited until he was asleep. I then got up, pulled back his covers and wrote the following on his naked chest, using the blue felt marker he used to draw spider diagrams of essay plans on a white plastic board: 'Are you sure I didn't go further than having a wank last night?' I then pulled his boxer shorts off and took them with me, so he'd never find them.
This incident was never spoken about again between the two of us. We even went out together again two nights later.
50. Coming out is tough, for whatever reason. If everyone is on a scale of sexuality, it’s easier for some. The guys who score a full 10, who have always known what they are, might find it easier, a release. It probably doesn't come as a surprise to those around them.
Coming out is the process of telling those whom we wish to know, or feel should know, we are gay. There's an
But on the prejudice scale there is no box for the bigot, the fiscal conservative, the socially right-wing. With my hand on my heart I can say I'm not prejudiced because I'm not prejudiced against the groups that usually suffer prejudice. And with my hand on my heart I can tell you I have nothing but contempt for vast numbers.
I say all of this because at the time I came out I had some residue hatred for homosexuality that I hadn't yet managed to direct somewhere else. It was a while before I learnt to hate the establishment more and hate gays less. The amount of hatred in me didn't reduce, I just redirected it
A psychologist would tell you it was transference, my distaste for other gay students. I found it difficult to handle being gay so I took out my frustration on people who were more confident and open about it than I was.
The sight of two men kissing in public repulsed me. The overly effeminate irked me. And what’s wrong with that? Isn't it possible that the psychologists have it wrong and the biologists have it right? It could be that we're all born with a natural aversion to gay intimacy. It would explain a lot.
It’s taken for granted that boys will beat each other up. They'll play sports. They'll be ambitious and aggressive. All for the evolutionary edge, the progression of the species. It’s not too big a leap to assume we are all born with an impulse to wipe out gayness. Afterall, it threatens the reproduction of our species, it threatens our very survival.
Yet we learn when we are growing up that some of our primeval urges need to be curbed and some are plain wrong. We can't attack, fuck and take indiscriminately. Controlling and suppressing these urges is what growing up is all about. It was just that I hadn't learnt that my dislike of public homosexuality was one of my bad impulses. Nobody had told me.
Though, I was aware, that to have a shot at a happy life it was a feeling I needed to overcome fairly quickly.
49. Jack, writer, womaniser and sometime jock, was the type of guy I could only have ended up being friends with because we had ended up living together through school. One night, arising from one of his days of being a jock, I ended up going out with him and his team mates. It was a long night, which ended with me half-lying, half falling down on his floor in preparation for passing out.
I would have slept immediately, only Jack interrupted me with a question. Lying on his bed, he was smoking his fortieth of the night, the sugar in his blood being too high to get directly to sleep. He asked: "Did you come back here to have a wank? Just to be near me?"
I didn't respond and feigned sleep. Shocked as I was, sleep didn't come. Jack was letting me know he'd heard I was gay, that was obvious. But I couldn't figure out if he was saying it to let me know he knew. Or if he was saying it to make me feel uncomfortable. It was also possible that it was a come on. I’m fairly sure Jack would sleep with anything.
It wasn't long until my drunken mood happened upon rage. I waited until he was asleep. I then got up, pulled back his covers and wrote the following on his naked chest, using the blue felt marker he used to draw spider diagrams of essay plans on a white plastic board: 'Are you sure I didn't go further than having a wank last night?' I then pulled his boxer shorts off and took them with me, so he'd never find them.
This incident was never spoken about again between the two of us. We even went out together again two nights later.
50. Coming out is tough, for whatever reason. If everyone is on a scale of sexuality, it’s easier for some. The guys who score a full 10, who have always known what they are, might find it easier, a release. It probably doesn't come as a surprise to those around them.
Coming out is the process of telling those whom we wish to know, or feel should know, we are gay. There's an
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