Why is that we never hear any big ideas anymore? I have been dealing with big ideas in my work for decades, but usually the big ideas get eaten by the old thinking--that is, that all queer men are interested in is sex, so anything that is erotic is "pornographic." That gay men are only interested in pop-culture, market-driven drivel. So that's why they stay in so much isolation and depression. And there is the idea that we have to keep re-inventing ourselves at evey moment, to keep up with the "market," so our actual core personality, something that has evolved over a whole lifetime and reacts to the environment is irrelevant.
Or at least not "cool."
I hate cool. I'm not cool at all. I don't want to be cool. There are whole lot of things in this world I want to be, but "cool," that is sellable in todays's consumer-driven, mass market, is not one of them.
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A Story With Some Big Ideas
George Bush, Jr., Shows Box for American Public
You would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see it. At least certainly blind. Right there, in the real focal point of all those pictures of George W. Bush landing in flight gear on the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln's deck on May 2, was the Presidential crotch, pushed up and out like Jane Mansfield's boobs by all the supports, jock, and straps that kept our daring young(ish) Pres's jewels in the right place.
Never, in the hallowed history of the Presidency has the Commander-in-Chief's johnson been in such splendid view, with the exception of a few baggy-wet-bathing-suit shots from J.F.K's Miami beach combing days, when he was photoed on the sand letting as much hang out as you could then.
There were also a couple of lewd, crude, anatomically correct pictures of William Jefferson Clinton's paraphernalia coming very close to meandering down into sight from his nylon jogging shorts. But Clinton's belly hid anything pertinent from view, and GB, Jr. is in such better shape, at least physically, than WJC, that he really is in a better position to let most of it stand up and salute the citizenry.
What does this mean to an American public that needs our figurehead president to be more than a figurehead; to be, if not a sex symbol, then at least a power symbol? Well, for one thing, it shows that the American Empire has truly gone back to the example of the Roman Empire, when emperors were often sculpted at least half way in the raw, and you got to see a lot more of them in stone than we get to see in flesh nowadays.
But then, who but Hadassah would like to see Joe Lieberman naked?
To the Romans, showing virile autocratic leaders with much apparatus in evidence was a vital part of the Roman power game. The Romans did not invent the idea that image was everything (okay, I know youíre sure it was Madonna) but they did take it a lot further than the ever-tasteful Greeks.
They, if you read Homer, were still naive enough to believe that actions had to speak louder than words.
Of course in George Bush's ascendancy, words have to do minimal work anyway. And the actions weren't exactly great, either: stomping the Iraqi toad with the Republican elephant. But Bushie's symbolic actions have been worthy of a McDonald's dollar meal: the maximum amount of show with the minimal amount of food value. We got to see GBJr. (somewhat) piloting a jet onto the deck of an aircraft carrier, without killing anyone . . . although he came close. But most important, we got to see him come out of it in a hot flight suit, showing off his box like a Seventeenth Century Italian nobleman showing off a very well-stuffed codpiece.
Molto bene, Bushie!
This, of course, is the real essence of George Bush Jr.'s appeal at the moment. For a country that still despises queerdom, as queer as the place really is--and just one look at the billboards in Times Square showing acres of guy flesh in Calvin's underwear shows you it is--there is nothing like having the Presidential knob pushed right into your face.
Bush's sheer smiley Grade "C" blandness on top of that crotch is enough to send any normal red-blooded American crotch-watcher into ecstasy. Here you have a face that is not nearly as interesting as the crotch below it: a condition that in former eras of human history was considered optimal.
After all, what was a man of power then, except a well-stuffed crotch? From Julius Caesar to Henry VIII to Mussolini, it was important to have evidence of adventuous little Junior popping out between the thrusting legs and below the hand with a spear in it.
In other words, the only thing more symbolic than showing the Big Man's hand on a missile was a glimpse of the of the "big stick" below it. This is a primal human image, and it has been lost in the hundred years since the three-piece suit was inflicted on the voyeurs of the species.
Bush, who is not exactly deep, intellectually weighty, or headed for a stellar pedestal in history except for his own buffoonery, can now simply be seen for what he is: the Presidential peg on which so much will now be hung. Upon this peg, we will have all the phony show compassion towards Third World kids with AIDS but not for Americans; the tax cuts that favor billionaires while armies of us become homeless; the Presidential interest in "sp'rituality," aka, shoveling tax money to church schools so they can show us how God created the earth in 6 days, rested on the 7th, and denounced queers on the 8th; and the continuing rape of the world environment.
For all of this, we want to thank you, George, for showing us your dick;
and we also want to thank that other dick, Dick Cheney, for making it possible.