“ur gay”

Yes, that's the summary of the challenge issued by CrazyEy. His well-planned and cunning issuance of a verbal gauntlet.

“ur gay”

Isn't it just scintillating how the well authored epithet flows from his keyboard? For those of you who are just tuning in, CrazyEy issued a challenge to me for a Battle blog and I took up the challenge. You can see the details here.

It seems that CrazyEy is incapable of maintaining much of an argument. The only current opinion I can form based on any information online is that he's an attention-seeking n00b, but for just one moment let me stoop to his level. He wants to resort to name calling, then let me give it a shot. Maybe I'll be halfway decent at it.

CrazyEy; you suckling indolent twerp, your whole fucking persona is in doubt as not only have you barely scratched the surface of presence on eBaums but you have no real presence on the web elsewhere either. If you search for your “Great Unifier” blog, one finds it is simply a cut-and-paste posted by Torrance Stephens, who we can all assume you are not. Particularly because Torrance Stephens is a well-known poet and doctor who is 74 years old. No, it is more likely that you are one of the nameless rabble that strings a paragraph together as a five-year-old struggles with stringing plastic beads. Your ill-informed argument rides as smoothly as a sway backed mule, and I can only hope for the sake of your lovers that you are slightly better physically than that. You are a plagiarist whose twee attempts at humor only entertain twittering simpletons such as yourself. There. Did you get all of that or should I mail you a fucking dictionary, thou-whose-brains-would-not-fill-a-gnat's-navel?

Honestly, I don't like that style at all. Insults for the sake of insults. So then let me turn your chosen topic on it's ear and make something useful from the meager remains. Gay? Nope. Not gay. But I honestly say it's not because I've tried. Read on and you'll see for yourself. I have no trouble being an honest person.

Of course, it's something I'm used to hearing a lot as a teacher. My students would frequently say “you're gay” to their fellow classmates. Six-year-olds who barely know what sex might be use that phrase as an insult. The weird thing is that it will upset a six-year-old. Hell, calling a  six-year-old a “schnackenberger” upsets them. They are just reacting to the conflict. So at least once a year I had to give them the talk. Simple, non-sexual, and to-the-point. I explained to my class that being gay was something that could only be decided by you, probably not until you were a teenager. It wasn't anything that anyone could make you or tell you that you were. There were always fewer incidents of that after the talk.

Except in the upper grades. When I taught there the one word I would not tolerate was “fagot”. For those who want to look it up, a fagot is a bundle of sticks. The word origin in regards to homosexuals is an implication of violence against them. It suggests that they should be burned at the stake as if they were nothing more than dead wood. I made it clear to my students that now that I had taught them what the word actually meant I would interpret any mention of it the same way any other in-school threat of violence would be handled. That shut them up.

However, back to me. Like I said once before, I've studied a lot about sex, and with some of the best. But it wasn't sex just for the sake of sex. That's just irresponsible lust, and you don't really learn much by just banging a whole bunch of people. There really are techniques to learn, mentally and physically, like the martial arts. The trouble is the more you know the more you have to figure out where you stand. When you are nothing more than a raging-hormone teen then sex equals desire and there's not much distinction to be made outside of peer pressure and social norms. When you get to learn more, though, you are challenged to learn about yourself. Something that's not always easy.

So I eventually had to ask myself; was I gay? I didn't want to end up like the mass of jackass frat boys engaging in pseudo-sexual homo-eroticism...boys who would rather spend their time amongst other boys than find themselves in the company of a group of women. Young men only comfortable with their own sexuality as long as they didn't examine it. Worse yet, what of the middle-aged man who wakes up one morning after begetting 2.5 kids with his wife to discover that he really has a desire to roll around the sheets with leatherboys.

I didn't want to not know. I had always been butch, and I had always acted hetero...but what if I was wrong. So I did a lot of internal searching. I even got so far as kissing...but nope. Not gay at all. It didn't work out for me. But I did find out a lot.

First I learned that while I could appreciate men aesthetically, I just had no sexual attraction to them. I could be inspired by the speed of a sprinter or the song of a baritone but that didn't make me want to have sex with them. I also now understood that almost everyone has a degree of bisexuality to them. Some more than others, but there was a huge allotment for personal taste. Which means that I learned that I am really only drawn to people that are quite feminine in a sexual way. Does this mean I could be with someone who was male and feminine such as a transgendered individual? Well, it hasn't happened yet, but I really suppose it depends on the person more than anything else. Besides, people are exceptionally complex. How can you just confidently slap a label on anyone as simple as “gay” or “straight” then expect them to live up to your standards. The whole concept is very shallow.

Summary? Simple. It's easy to try to pigeonhole someone to your standards. It's much harder to figure out what those standards actually mean.

And I understand I'm in the minority here. The majority still consists of those frat boys who repress their own homosexuality by trying to pin their misplaced feelings on others, then persecuting them. But I see it another way. I know it's naïve, but just maybe one of the kids who's life I touched for a short while might actually take what I said to heart. Or maybe someone reading this will. And there is the slim chance that someone out there will look inside themselves and be happy with the person they really are.

I'm not doing this for the frat boys. They can go fuck themselves with scissors for all I care. I'm doing it for the one person that needs to know that they are just fine the way they are.