It has been difficult for me to write about the Pulse shootings. The temptation to wallow in emotionalism is hard to resist, also the temptation to use this as a soap-box to demonstrate my anger or to generate WordPress hits by cashing on a #. I don’t even feel I have something new or revealing to say but that’s no reason for me to keep silent either. So over two different days I put down some of my thoughts. On the night of June 12 I opted to do a vigil of my own – met with a sweet Filipino man & made the sweet love these dead queers will never get the chance to make again.
An American Hero http://wp.me/p1RtxU-1Ps
It doesn’t matter how much media points out the irrational clinging to gun culture is in the States it won’t stop psychotically heterosexual men from squeezing their triggers at any target that disrupts their sense of entitlement. It’s their right – you aren’t the boss of me.
Orlando quickly became yet another media morass of fresh startling revelations, of why didn’t they stand & fight back – oh those queers are just sissy cowards who didn’t want to muss their make up defending themselves – better to die a pretty corpse.Was the shooter motivated by ideology – Isis corrupts yet another innocent mind – no wait, he was on some gay dating sites – so being a repressed queer corrupted another innocent mind. Queer on queer crime is more acceptable, like black on black. Any motivation to make this week’s mass shooting less horrific.
Oh look cell cam video’s by the victims. Scoops by intrepid reporters, prayers for healing – because healing is easier to pray for than dealing with the issues that underlie what happened. Blame must be laid at the right door step – not this one – not the state, not the feds, no we aren’t at fault. No one is responsible for fixing, only for dodging, the problem. Too bad those in Pulse didn’t have the agility to dodge the bullet, all probably hopped up on booze, street drugs, the evil aromas of same sex sex. They were just asking for it by being unaware.Blame blame blame – no one is responsible, no one will claim that doubtful honour. No one will say we let you down but rather we didn’t know – we couldn’t protect you – we didn’t want to protect you – no one is safe. But in the States it’s the clear the right to kill is more important that the right to stay alive.
Nearly a week has passed since this meaningless massacre. Perspectives change as facts are revealed. When I first heard it was a terrorist, possibly Isis, attack, I wasn’t convinced. Why would an international terrorist organization target a USA culture that the USA itself has been trying to wipe out with HIV genocide, indifference & permissiveness (oh, another trans dead, one less to worry about).
Did race play a part in this – Latinx vs Islamic? even though the Islamic roots of Spain run deep into their history. With the shooter dead we’ll never know his motivation, even if he were alive we’d never know his motivation only his defence attorney’s spin on the usual suspects – queer culture corrupted his delicate mind.
Recently there’s been dissension about who owns this grief – a resentment that it seems the press is only interested in the view point of the non-poc, non-Latinix communities. Only poc with MA’s in sociology or actual survivors of the attack need apply to be interviewed.Seeing the pictures of the men & women who died at Pulse has been heartbreaking. Hearing Anderson Cooper stumble tearfully through the names of the dead was heartbreaking. Seeing photos of the shooter has been heartbreaking – he was just a young man, attractive & trapped (apparently) by cultural constraints of what being a man meant. Constraints created by the American dream & also by his own Islamic upbringing.
I’m sure one solution is going to be something make clubs responsible for security – cover charges to raised high enough to cover the costs of manned entrances with airport screening devices. Don’t change laws but create new ones. Just like poverty, as long as someone is making big bucks off it, homophobia will always be with us.
The pictures reminded of the countless, unnamed men who I see in my Tumblr feed – with their shirts pulled up to reveal abs, saggy hairy bellies, tats, piercings – cocks – cut, uncut, hard, soft, struggling hidden under 2xists undies or proudly full view for my eyes to engage. I wonder how many of these faceless bodies were in Pulse that night. More beautiful men I’ll never get to sleep with.
It was weird reading on FB, Twitter, Tumblr – the news of the massacre, the commentary on it while scrolling through these sexy photos. Sex and death and social structures revolving around each other, each fitting into my queer world view in different yet interconnected ways.
Snow Global Warming
his eyes were the color of sky
a sky on the verge of snow
snow that is eagerly awaited
to make a white Christmas
not a lot of snow mind you
a dusting of it
enough to turn the world
into a festive card of trees and houses
houses with warm lights in windows
as snow falls tossed in a snow globe
us naked in front of that fireplace
a blizzard of affection blankets
us under thick waves of heat
hearth logs crackling
and our stockings well hung
a vision of sugar plums
between his legs
the wind howling around the house
we tumble around each other
toasted tossed in a snow globe
of swiftly changing lusts emotions
spinning transient melting
breathless and mumbling
naughty nice naughty nice
mostly unwrapped and crumpled
eager for another shake of the snow globe
pictures today are of broken & discarded stuff