Russell Tovey and the Plight of the “Straight-Acting” Gay

 This past Sunday, actor Russell Tovey, who plays the role of Kevin on the gay-themed show Looking on HBO, gave an interview to the British newspaper The Guardian in which he said,

 “I feel like I could have been really effeminate, if I hadn’t gone to the school I went to. Where I felt like I had to toughen up. If I’d have been able to relax, prance around, sing in the street, I might be a different person now. I thank my dad for that, for not allowing me to go down that path. Because it’s probably given me the unique quality that people think I have.”¹

Predictably, gay men who identify as effeminate seized on this quote as evidence of Tovey’s “femme-bashing.”

But, wait!

In today’s PC world, there’s lots of love and support for “sissy” boys. TV is full of them! (Ross the Intern, Brad Goreski, Chris Colfer’s character on Glee, Carson Kressley, Jack from Will & Grace, just to name a few.)

But where is the love for the “straight-acting” gay?

Shunned by his gay brothers for not being camp/bitchy enough, yet not accepted by straight society either because he doesn’t like sports, pleated Dockers or “bro”-ish behavior in general.

Where’s the love for them?

I remember the first time I tried to get a gig as a comedian on Fire Island and was explicitly told by the club’s booker: “We only book drag queens.”

Is there no justice?!

It seems to me that the vast majority of gay men are, like myself, neither camp/bitchy enough to be drag queens nor muscular/handsome enough to be go-go dancers. Yet those are the only two alternatives offered to us.

Rather than attack Tovey for owning up to the circumstances that made him who he is (an unsympathetic father, being attacked by two men with a knife when he was a teenager), we should feel sympathy for him.

After all, it must be difficult not to do that Take That dance routine² (like his character Kevin does on Looking), when you know you’re dying to.

1 http://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2015/mar/01/russell-tovey-looking-banished-interview

2 http://youtu.be/qpqAXZI0s0s

Fade to Grey

Steve Strange

You know how a song can instantly take you right back to a certain place and time?

Whenever I hear “Africa” by Toto, it takes me right back to being on the dance floor of the Anvil at 4am. (It was always dj Bill Bahlman’s last song.)

Whenever I hear anything from Duran Duran’s Rio album, it takes me right back to the Chelsea loft of the designer I met who played that entire album for me.

And whenever I hear the song “Fade to Grey” by Visage (https://vimeo.com/95747996), it takes me right back to my college friend Tom Farrell’s NYU dorm room, where he first played me that song, as well as the first few 12-inch singles by a new British band called Spandau Ballet. He also introduced me to such British music publications as The Face and the New Musical Express. Tom Farrell was my introduction to the British musical subculture known as the New Romantics (which also included Duran Duran, Adam and the Ants, and Bow Wow Wow) and my introduction to the New York club scene, which at that time included such places as the Mudd Club, Berlin, the Pyramid, AM/PM, Area, Danceteria, and—for a brief shining moment—the Underground. (I’m sure I’m leaving some out, but Nina Hagen’s song “New York, New York” is a good reference for remembering the clubs from this period.)

My college friend, Tom Farrell, in bow tie.

I still think about the time I went to see Spandau Ballet play at the Underground on its opening night. That concert was so exclusive, Tina Turner was in the audience. (This was before Private Dancer.) And, of course, Tom Farrell was there.

But all of that started with Visage and its stylish lead singer, Steve Strange.

Steve Strange died today at the age of 55.

I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. Maybe it’s because, coincidentally, there was another death in New York yesterday, of 60 Minutes reporter Bob Simon. His death could be called ironic if it wasn’t so tragic. Simon reported from some of the most dangerous places in the world and was even held prisoner in Iraq for 40 days. But he met his untimely demise because his livery cab driver sideswiped another car that was stopped at a red light in Manhattan.

Everywhere I look there seem to be people dying and I think that feeling has been exaggerated by social media. Why do people feel the urge to post someone’s death on Facebook (myself included)? To pay tribute, to share grief, or simply to appear great by association?

Another considerably less disturbing coincidence of events occurred yesterday when Jon Stewart announced that he was leaving The Daily Show and NBC announced that it was suspending Brian Williams for six months.

Of course, I took Jon Stewart’s announcement personally. I thought, “That does it! I’m officially too old to ever have that job!” I realize it’s the height of vanity to even suggest that I could take Jon Stewart’s place, but I’m talking more about demographics here. What I really mean is that I’m officially too old for Comedy Central.

I’m now at the age where I’ve seen the death of not just many of my musical heroes, but entire musical eras: the British Invasion of the ’60s (John Lennon and George Harrison from the Beatles, Robin and Maurice Gibb from the Bee Gees), disco (Donna Summer), punk (Joe Strummer from The Clash, all of The Ramones), ’80s pop (Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston) and, now, the first of the New Romantics.

I realize that Steve Strange probably wouldn’t even rate a mention in an American newspaper and that his greatest contribution may have been to style (or at least, music videos), not music.

But there’s something particularly jarring when a pop star dies, because pop stardom seems to epitomize youth.

Increasingly, I feel like each of us has a brief window of opportunity to make our mark on the world and if you miss that window, if you don’t get a lucky break early on, that’s it.

I was thinking these thoughts at my gym tonight when, as if I had telepathically summoned it, I heard the dj there play A Flock of Seagulls’ “Space Age Love Song,” with its soaring vocals and synthesizers, and suddenly I was back on the dance floor of the Anvil at 4am.

So maybe there’s hope for me yet.

Why Obamacare Doesn’t Work for the Middle Class

 I was late to the Obamacare debate. I just got an email on January 8th saying that I was no longer eligible for Medicaid (yes, Medicaid) and that I had to buy my own health insurance by January 15^th in order to be covered by February 1.

I had seven days to make a decision.

I went to see a so-called “insurance advisor” at the clinic I generally go to as my primary care provider (because I usually don’t have health insurance and they offer a sliding scale fee structure). The insurance advisor plugged in the income for my temp job into the New York State of Health website and, according to the website, I was entitled to $287 per month in subsidies.

But that figure was only based on my income through April. If I earned any income after April (which I would have to do in order to, you know, continue eating and paying my bills), I would not be entitled to those subsidies and would, in fact, have to pay them back.

Unfortunately, Obamacare only provides subsidies if you make less than $45,960/year¹.

Now, $45,960 may be a large sum of money in East Buttfuck, Arkansas, but if you’re making $45,960 in New York City, you’re barely paying your bills.

According to a recent New York Times article, in order to be considered middle class in Manhattan, one needs to make between $80,000 and $235,000².

Unfortunately, the median income in New York City is $50,711³.

In other words, in order to benefit from Obamacare, you have to be truly poor.

Now, we’re used to poor people being written off and treated like shit. What’s new with Obamacare is that middle class people are being written off and treated like shit.

And, unlike poor people, middle class people vote.

Ironically, it’s because of Obamacare that I’m in my current predicament. Since, under Obamacare, companies are only required to offer health insurance to “full time” (i.e., not temporary) employees, I haven’t been able to find a job that lasts more than a few months for the last two years! (Some companies have also been reducing their workforce to under 50 full time employees in order to avoid having to provide health insurance.)

Companies don’t care if you have health insurance. Why should they? They’re in business to make money. As far as they’re concerned, health insurance is your problem. That’s why it should be the government’s job to provide health insurance (i.e., through a single payer system), like it is in almost every other country in the civilized world.

So now, not only do most Republicans want to repeal Obamacare, but many middle class Democrats like myself want to see it repealed (or, at least, improved).

But, contrary to what Republicans have been saying, Obamacare is not a “government takeover” of healthcare. It’s a government capitulation to the healthcare industry.

According to a recent story on 60 Minutes, the health care industry got everything they wanted in Obamcare.⁵ And why shouldn’t they? The insurance industry spent $2 billion on lobbying the government last year.⁶ (The pharmaceutical industry spent another $3 billion.)

The only people who didn’t get what they wanted were the public.

Obamacare is creating an entire class of middle class criminals whose only crime is not having enough money to buy their own health insurance.

They’re either going to have to get rid of it altogether or increase subsidies for the middle class.

Otherwise, my only hope of getting health insurance is finding a “full time” job that provides it.

But first, I have to find a “full time” job.

1 http://www.financialsamurai.com/subsidy-amounts-by-income-limits-for-the-affordable-care-act-obamacare/

2 http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/20/realestate/what-is-middle-class-in-manhattan.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

3 http://project.wnyc.org/median-income-nabes/

4 http://www.grayreed.com/NewsResources/Legal-Updates/50305/Obamacare-and-Seasonal-Workers

5 http://www.cbs.com/shows/60_minutes/video/ZiXofnyJSjH0KpbyJA_EPIoVLkb6Hc9Y/dissecting-obamacare/

6 https://www.opensecrets.org/lobby/top.php?indexType=i

Has the World Gone Crazy?

 Between the recent killings of Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Rafael Ramos and Wenjian Liu, the resulting tension between Mayor DeBlasio and the New York Police Department, and now the senseless killings of several staff members of the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo, you could be forgiven for thinking that the world has gone crazy.

I suppose it all started back in July, when some New York police officers choked Eric Garner to death while arresting him for selling lose cigarettes on a sidewalk in Staten Island.

When a grand jury decided not to indict the police officers, people took to the street in (mostly) peaceful protests.

Then, just when it appeared as if a constructive dialogue might actually happen, a mentally ill man from Maryland shot two innocent police officers who were sitting in their patrol car in Brooklyn.

He said that the shooting was in response to Eric Garner’s death, but this was a man who tried to commit suicide and shot his ex-girlfriend before he shot the two police officers. This was clearly not a rational person.

In his remarks after the grand jury decision, Mayor DeBlasio said that he had had a talk with his son about how he should behave in front of police officers. This apparently offended the NYPD so greatly that PBA president Patrick Lynch declared that the Mayor had “blood on his hands” for the murder of the two police officers.

Some police officers then responded by turning their backs on the Mayor at the two slain officers’ funerals (despite explicit instructions from their commissioner, William Bratton, not to do so) and instituting a work slow-down.

In the ensuing debate, I’ve felt like I’ve had to prove that I’m not “anti-cop” by saying things which I think we can all agree on: namely that the execution-style murder of two innocent police officers is horrific, and that one should respect police officers, do what they say and not argue with them.

But some people (especially those in the conservative press) have created a false dichotomy whereby, if you’re against police brutality, you’re somehow “anti-cop.”

The situation really came to a head for me yesterday when I read two diametrically opposed editorials in The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. (There was a scarily similar dual reaction the same day on Twitter to a documentary on PBS about the NRA called Gunned Down.)

I felt like I was staring in a funhouse mirror as I read The Wall Street Journal editorial and the comments that followed. Conservatives used the same tactics as liberals to give the exact opposite point-of-view. And the comments that followed were so uniform, it was as if the commenters were reading from a telemarketing script.

On Twitter, conservatives have the same clever sayings and the same clever graphics that liberals do.

And that raises another issue: The level of debate in this country (world?) has been reduced to 140 characters. Or an Internet meme on the level of Grumpy Cat or The Most Interesting Man in the World. (“I don’t always shoot people but when I do, I use an AK-47!”)

I fear we're becoming two societies (Democrat/Republican, liberal/conservative) who only listen to those who agree with us.

I must admit, I'm sometimes guilty of that, as well. I’ve blocked some people from my Facebook news feed just because I can’t stand to read their misinformed comments. And I can’t even watch Fox News or else my head will explode.

Then this morning, I woke up to the news that Islamic terrorists had entered the offices of Charlie Hebdo and killed several staff members.

What seems obvious to me but not these cowards is that terrorism never works. Yes we’re profoundly sad that innocent lives were taken for no reason, but then we go on.

You can’t stop the free flow of information in the Age of the Internet. It’s about time these idiots figure that out.

The Interview: Gay Panic vs. Nuclear Annihilation

 First off, let me just say how affirming it was to sit in a movie theater with my fellow New Yorkers to watch The Interview. Normally, I probably wouldn’t have gone to see an adolescent comedy about a plot to kill the leader of North Korea, but I was so pissed off at the idea of a foreign dictator telling me what I can or can’t see that I was like, “You know something? Fuck you, North Korea! I’m going to see this!”

And, no, that police command station assembled one block from the movie theater did not make me nervous at all.

Now, to the movie itself.

Much has been made over the fact that The Interview may be the first movie to depict the death (albeit humorously rendered) of a sitting head of state. (And a psychotic head of state with nuclear weapons, to boot.) Less has been made over the fact that The Interview is, essentially, a 90-minute riff on what I call “gay panic.” That is, the discomfort many heterosexual men feel at the idea that they may be (or be perceived), in the slightest way, homosexual, and the fact that, for many heterosexual men, this is the worst thing you could possibly be.

As a gay man, sitting in a movie theater with (I would assume), mostly heterosexual men laughing at one of my defining traits as a human being, could make one, how shall I say, uncomfortable.

The oddity of this spectacle is further compounded by the fact that it is being portrayed by an actor, James Franco, who has made something of a career lately out of playing gay men (Allen Ginsberg, Hart Crane, a fake documentary about the movie Cruising). And, of course, need it be said? James Franco is ridiculously handsome.

So, imagine a movie in which James Franco and his polar opposite in the looks department, Seth Rogen, do everything but have intercourse onscreen (and do, in fact, kiss each other, say they love each other, drink fancy cocktails with umbrellas in them and—horrors—listen to Katy Perry music).

Indeed, the amount of phony homosexuality on display is ratcheted up so high that you have to laugh—and that, I suppose, is the point.

There’s also a cameo at the beginning of the movie by Eminem where he “admits” to being gay during an interview on a tabloid TV show. So is Eminem making fun of gays or poking fun at his image as a homophobic rapper? Truth be told, I can’t even remember why he is allegedly homophobic (I don’t really listen to rap music) and, besides, didn’t he already silence those complaints when he performed with Elton John on the Grammy Awards?

Then again, I suppose if we’re going to go down that road, an equal if not larger grievance could be voiced by Asians (or at least North Koreans), for being portrayed as the world’s laughing stock. Or women, for being portrayed as sex objects whose only reason for existence is to please men.

The fact is, that if one can suspend one’s inner PC police, the movie is actually quite funny. And, by employing more Asian actors than pretty much every other Hollywood movie put together and showing them poking fun at themselves, it has the ironic effect of humanizing them.

Now if only Seth Rogen and James Franco would just fuck each other and get it over with.

A Love-Hate Relationship: Homeland vs. The Affair

 The last few Sundays, I’ve been having a love-hate relationship with Showtime. I love Homeland. I hate The Affair.

I’ve recently become acquainted with the term “hate-fucking.” Is there such a thing as hate-watching?

Let’s start with Homeland.

I didn’t watch the first few seasons of Homeland, but I decided to give this season a try because I’d heard such good things about it. (A previous attempt at trying to watch last season didn’t work because the plot was already too far along for me to catch up.)

This season started great and got better. And it was also a new story line, so if you missed the first few seasons, like I did, you could start from scratch.

This season’s arc had Carrie (Claire Danes), a bipolar CIA agent, pursuing the Osama Bin Laden-like character Haissam Haqqani in Pakistan. Along the way, she has a make-believe affair with Haqqani’s young nephew, a slowly simmering attraction to her hot fellow agent Peter Quinn (Rupert Friend), and has to deal with a bunch of backstabbing coworkers that make your typical office politics look like a walk in the park.

While the season finale was relatively subdued compared to the rest of the season (Carrie returns home to the United States while Quinn, after swearing he wouldn’t, returns to Pakistan), there were some moments that were so suspenseful, it was truly difficult to watch.

And I haven’t even gotten into the sadomasochistic relationship between the U.S. Ambassador Martha Boyd (Laila Robbins) and her traitorous husband or their double-dealing Pakistani counterparts.

Really, a plot summary couldn’t possibly do the series justice.

Let’s just say that by the end of the season, I needed some of Carrie’s bipolar medication!

Now let’s talk about The Affair.

What started for me as a harmless bit of real estate porn turned into…well…just porn!

Holy crap! Dominic West was naked more often on this series than Lena Dunham in Girls! (Not that I’m complaining…)

But the histrionics were ratcheted up so high, it was more like watching a soap opera than the True Detectives-like mystery they were aiming for. (How creepy was that Fiona Apple song at the beginning?)

Noah and Helen Soloway (Mr. West and Maura Tierney), a Brooklyn couple (he’s a teacher and writer, she runs a home furnishings store) are vacationing with their family in Montauk when Noah is drawn to a young waitress (Alison Bailey, played by Ruth Wilson) at a seafood restaurant.

They immediately begin a torrid affair, but this is no ordinary affair. You see, Alison’s young son died several years ago and she and her husband are still in mourning. Meanwhile, Noah has to deal with his rich in-laws who are constantly belittling him.

While the series shows the very real devastation infidelity can wreak on a marriage, Noah and Alison are so self-destructive that after a while you’re like, “Oh, well, I guess they’re gonna fuck again.”

OK, so we know that—in America—sex is a greater taboo than violence and infidelity a more serious crime than murder. But if you’re going to have a morality tale about infidelity, go big or go home. I’m talking Fatal Attraction.

That movie was more believable for being a one-night-stand gone wrong than the long, drawn-out Affair. And Glenn Close (as Alex Forrest) was so deliciously evil, she practically verged on camp. (As much as I loved Cher in Moonstruck, I still think Ms. Close deserved the Oscar that year.)

In the Affair season finale, when Noah is finally arrested for a murder we never saw him commit, all you can do is yawn.

P.S. The Comeback is a bit of a disappointment this season, too. I guess the first season (nine years ago) set the bar so high (and reality TV set the bar for humiliation so low) that it was hard to top. (I also think that the show-within-the-show, Room and Bored, added a much-needed dimension.) This week’s episode, where Valerie wears a wire to the restaurant where she and her husband are trying to repair their relationship, approached some of the cringeworthy-ness that made the first season so good.

Sometimes I think, this isn’t a comedy about show business, it’s a documentary.

White Riot

“White riot — I wanna riot

White riot — a riot of my own.”

—The Clash

When I looked at the front page of today’s New York Times, I was so furious, I felt like I was having a heart attack.

The lead story was about how, in a move that was typical of what’s been happening in this country lately, House Republicans snuck in a last-minute giveaway to banks in next year’s budget before leaving for vacation, and the only member of Congress who spoke out against it was Nancy Pelosi.¹ Even Obama caved in to Republicans! (Again! Roll over, Obama!)

Right next to that story was an article about how "the share of prime-age men...who are not working has more than tripled since the late 1960s...."²

That’s right! The same people who voted to bail out the banks six years ago voted to allow them to continue doing the very same things that necessitated their bailout in the first place! They also threw in a measure increasing by tenfold the amount of money people are allowed to contribute to political parties.

The same people who refused to extend unemployment benefits five times last year, voted to give banks a major loophole, thereby increasing the chances of another financial collapse and another bailout at taxpayer expense.

And, of course, none of the parties responsible for the financial collapse were ever prosecuted. (Why should be we surprised, though, when just the day before the Times reported on the C.I.A.’s involvement in and cover-up of torture. None of the people responsible for that were ever prosecuted, either.)

But I digress.

Meanwhile, the front page of the New York Post was all about Hollywood producer Scott Rudin calling Angelina Jolie a “minimally talented spoiled brat.” (This from a man whose own ego is so huge he goes through 50 assistants a year.³ Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!)

People went to work, as usual. The subway droned on with its Orwellian announcements about giving up your seat to the elderly and “if you see something, say something.” (I mean, really, if you need a subway announcement to lecture adults about manners, you’ve already lost the battle.)

The operating principle in this country (if not the world) today seems to be "How much can we squeeze people before they literally riot?" Not figuratively riot, but burn buildings and cars riot.

In the past few weeks, we’ve seen the black community (along with supporters of other races) justifiably angry about the killings of young black men by white police officers.

What I want to know is, Where’s our riot? 

Granted, the financial collapse affected everyone—white and black—but the difference is that so-called “white collar” criminals are rarely punished, while blacks are sometimes killed over minor offenses.

Where’s our outrage?

I think the problem is that people simply don't know how bad things are. Everyone’s working so many hours, they don’t have time to read the newspaper. And the TV news is about as substantive as Entertainment Tonight.

Meanwhile, the moneyed powers that run this country (if not the world) continue to get richer and more powerful.

I’m surprised shows like Real Time with Bill Maher, Moyers & Company, The Daily Show or The Colbert Report—anything that questions the existing power structure--are even allowed to air, considering that six corporations control 90% of the media in America.⁵

Think I’m being alarmist?

Recently, there was an article in the Times about how Russian oligarchs are scooping up stakes in media companies.⁶

But we’re special because we’re America.

Yeah, right!

1 http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/12/us/congress-spending-bill.html?_r=0

2 http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/12/upshot/unemployment-the-vanishing-male-worker-how-america-fell-behind.html

3 http://www.buzzfeed.com/rachelzarrell/leaked-sony-emails-reveal-angelina-jolie-called-a-minimally

4 http://gawker.com/5663946/scott-rudin

5 http://www.businessinsider.com/these-6-corporations-control-90-of-the-media-in-america-2012-6

6 http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/27/world/oligarchs-of-eastern-europe-scoop-up-stakes-in-media-companies.html