Quite a whlle ago, Jim McAlister was on a BBC (NI) talk show ‘Nolan’ which had a number of threads including gay marriage; our reviewer’s analysis was as follow:
…You owe me a serious slug of good rum, mate. Watching an hour of of inter-Unionist wrangling is enough to make a man take to the quare stuff.
Archives for 2015
Gay film pioneers remember a new use for piano wire!
By Paul: Gay History

Falcon Studios | 15171
Out have looked back 40 years to the founding of the US gay video industry, where studios like Falcon began producing sex material for the burgeoning gay market, first with pictures and magazines, and then venturing into video production. Four key players at the time were Vaughn Kincey, Jack Dufault, Jim Hodges, and Chuck Holmes, who worked under the pseudonyms of John Summers, Matt Sterling, John Travis, and Bill Clayton. Chuck Holmes, Jim Hodges and Vaugh Kincey founded Falcon Studios, and went on to become the most commercially successful of the four men.
Jim Hodges (“John Travis,” co-founder Falcon Studios): I was probably one of the first in the business. Bob Mizer [publisher of [of Physique Pictorial] was down here on West 11th Street in Los Angeles. We were shooting posing straps. And then it went from posing straps to ‘soft’ nudes [with flaccid penises]. And then it went from ‘soft’ nudes to piano wire holding the penis back — but hard so it would stay down, not go up. It was a lot of magazine publishing back then. That is really where it all started.
In the US, the sale or exhibition of “porn” — actual sex on film — was illegal. In 1969, San Francisco became the first city in the US to allow porn to screen in theaters, and the business flourished, leading the New York Times to proclaim it the “Smut Capital of the United States” in 1970. Demand for hardcore product increased nationally (and internationally), and much was produced in San Francisco.
http://www.out.com/entertainment/2015/7/08/few-good-men-oral-history-early-gay-porn
Heath Ledger Was Really, Really Serious About Gay Rights In 'Brokeback Mountain'
Brokeback Mountain: 10 Years On

“The shirt seemed heavy until he saw there was another shirt inside it, the sleeves carefully worked down inside Jack’s sleeves. It was his own plaid shirt, lost, he’d thought, long ago in some damn laundry, his dirty shirt, the pocket ripped, buttons missing, stolen by Jack and hidden here inside Jack’s own shirt, the pair like two skins, one inside the other, two in one.” — Annie Proulx, Brokeback Mountain
The quiet, revolutionary charge of Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain, 10 years old this year, could be felt not only in the way it was embraced by cinemagoers, but in the way some attempted to neutralize its depiction of same-sex love by turning its most intimate and harrowing scene—Jack Twist’s “I wish I knew how to quit you” moment—into a joke. According to Jake Gyllenhaal, who played the charismatic Twist, that was something Heath Ledger, in particular, was acutely sensitive to. “He was extraordinarily serious about the political issues surrounding the movie when it came out,” he says. “A lot of times people would want to have fun and joke about it, and he was vehement about being serious, to the point where he didn’t really want to hear about anything that was being made fun of.”
Watched again a decade later, that “quit you” encounter on Brokeback Mountain—a culmination of the lovers’ lost years, symbolized in a desperate animal embrace—remains as charged and powerful as ever. Some of us have known someone like Ennis Del Mar, trapped in a world in which he doesn’t fit, and hopelessly incapable of seeing any alternative. Or, as Annie Proulx wrote in the short story on which the movie is based, “There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it.” It is Del Mar’s tragedy, and by extension Jack Twist’s, too, that he cannot bring himself to choose happiness over fear.
Many have written about the homoerotic subtext of cowboy films, but no story has been as forthright as Brokeback Mountain in reminding us that for all the celebrated machismo of the American West, there have always been men like Ennis and Jack.
In an emailed interview, Proulx says, “Of course there were and are gay men in the world of cattle and horses since the first cow spent the winter on the plains west of Laramie, but the great fiction that evolved in the 19th century and lay over the ranching West is that all cowboy horsemen and ranch hands were heterosexual, strong and fearless, brave and handsome, and though tough and daring, they were shy, sparing of words, always kind to orphaned doggies and children, extravagantly polite to women, etc. All this made up an irresistible masculine ideal that had/has political value. For many, the cowboy image became a potent symbol of American men. It was this confrontation with unreality that the story wanted to show through a look at two characters living in the real world of homophobic closeting.”
Although the movie was well-received and handsomely rewarded—it pulled in more than $177 million worldwide, and another $44 million in DVD sales—there were some outliers. A cinema in Salt Lake City refused to show it, and it was banned in China. But one of the remarkable things aboutBrokeback Mountain was that it came at just the moment when attitudes were shifting, and mainstream audiences were ready to see two men coupling—particularly when those two men were Ledger and Gyllenhaal. Watching Ledger inhabit the role of Ennis—such a coiled ball of muted pain and rage and repressed sexual energy—is doubly poignant now, for it reminds us of the huge talent that was lost.
As with River Phoenix in My Own Private Idaho, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else playing the role, and though all great roles seem like inevitable casting decisions in hindsight, there is a rare alchemy at work between the four central actors that one dud casting note could have destroyed.
Before Brokeback Mountain, the idea of a straight A-list actor playing a gay role in a hit movie seemed far-fetched. Afterwards it became almost commonplace, but it took Ang Lee to make that happen. Actors auditioned for Brokeback because Lee was a big name, but many were hesitant. “During the interviews I had a feeling they were a little, if I may say, afraid, uncomfortable,” recalls Lee. “Usually when they come to meet with [the director] their agents will follow up: ‘How’s it going?’ They didn’t say that to me this time.”
Back then, of course, Hollywood was not unlike Wyoming, a place where homosexuality existed, but was rarely admitted, and—if found out—inevitably punished. That has changed, and continues to change, but stories like Brokeback Mountain retain their potency because shame, fear, and prejudice have not vanished.
And also because the metaphor of Brokeback Mountain—of thwarted dreams and lives unlived—is one to which anyone with a heart can relate.
To mark Brokeback Mountain’s 10th anniversary, we invited director Ang Lee, screenwriters Diana Ossana and Larry McMurtry, and actors Jake Gyllenhaal, Anne Hathaway, and Randy Quaid to look back on the making of this seminal movie.
Diana Ossana (screenwriter): I first read the story when it appeared in The New Yorker in 1997. I read it in the middle of the night and again the next morning, and it was just as affecting, so I asked Larry [McMurtry] to read it. He was reluctant to, only because he’s not interested in short fiction.
Larry McMurtry (co-screenwriter): I wondered why I hadn’t written it myself, because [homosexuality] has been hanging there in the West for over a hundred years, waiting to be written. I knew it, and everybody who was really familiar with cowboy life knew it.
Ossana: We wrote Annie Proulx a fan letter and asked her what she thought about us optioning the story. She wrote back and said, “I don’t see a movie here, but have at it,” and we wrote a script in three months, and sent it out into the world. About five days later, Gus Van Sant showed up at our door in Texas wanting to make it. But Gus couldn’t get Ennis cast—that’s what slowed it. Larry believed actors’ representatives were dissuading them from doing the part—they called it career suicide for a straight actor to play a gay person. We just thought that was ridiculous.
Randy Quaid (Joe Aguirre): I read the story in The New Yorker on a treadmill in a gym in Houston. I thought it would make a great movie and even inquired about obtaining the rights, but they were already taken. The short story struck me as having more humor than the film, but perhaps that was due to the novelty of reading about two gay cowpunchers falling desperately in love with each other, leaving the sheep to fend for themselves.
Jake Gyllenhaal (Jack Twist): The script for Brokeback Mountain had been around for a number of years, as is often the case with really interesting films. I’d actually met with another director, who was attached to it maybe four years before Ang came along. I was probably 19 years old.
Ossana: In 2001, [producer] James Schamus picked up the option, and he and I tried to get some directors to sign on. People loved the script—we kept hearing that—but no one would commit. At the end of 2002, I asked James to show it to Ang, and he came back a few weeks later and said, “Ang loved the script, but we’re going to do The Hulk.”
Ang Lee (director): I was pretty wrecked by making Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. My friend Jim [Schamus] introduced me to this little story by Annie Proulx, and towards the end when they talk about all they’ve got is Brokeback Mountain, that was an existential question to me. What is this Brokeback Mountain? They say, “We don’t really have a relationship, it’s just Brokeback Mountain,” and I cried there. That really perplexed me. I grew up in Taiwan, so nothing is more remote to me than gay cowboys in Wyoming. At the time, I was in the flow of doing something pulpy and picked to do The Hulk, which wracked me even more. But the story just refused to leave me.

Gyllenhaal: I knew it would be a difficult film to make, and something that would put people off, but I didn’t know how difficult it would be to get made. My closest family members, my godfathers, were a gay couple, so it was something I just inherently had no prejudice about.
Quaid: It was definitely a movie that needed to be made. It afforded an opportunity for society, particularly American culture, to confront its core issues with the gay community. Placing the confrontation in a milieu that is traditionally perceived as hetero male–John Wayne and the Western cowboy–was a brilliant stroke by Proulx.
Lee: After The Hulk I thought about retirement. I thought I’d had enough. My father had just passed away, and I was exhausted. Brokeback Mountain nurtured me back to filmmaking and as a person. I’m not the creator of that movie—I’m just a participant. It was meant to come out, to see the world, to affect people. I think everybody involved felt that way, like we were blessed. I don’t have another movie I feel that way about.
Anne Hathaway (Lureen Twist): I received the script for Brokeback Mountain with a note that said, “Please read for interest in the part of Alma.” And I read the script, and was, of course, blown away by it, but I remember thinking, Alma’s not my part–I’m Lureen. It’s not dissimilar to the feeling of meeting someone that will become very important to you on some soul level. It had that same magnetic pull that I feel for certain very important people. And like all of those wonderful feelings, it made me hot, it made me flush, it made my blood pound.
Lee: I met Annie Proulx for the first time in New York. She scared me. But then I spent two days in Wyoming with her. The first day I was still afraid of her, since she is stern and I am a city boy, but the first night we had dinner, and I saw an item on the menu, Rocky Mountain oyster, and I ordered it. I had no idea what it was, but I’m an adventurous eater. I think that was the icebreaker. When it came she took a bite of it, and said, “Women are not supposed to eat this,” and cracked a smile. After that she was quite lovely.
Ossana: My daughter had suggested Heath [Ledger] early in 2003, so we did a little movie marathon. I had Larry watch Monster’s Ball, and he watched it until Heath’s character killed himself, and he stood up and said, “I can’t watch any more of this, it’s too brutal—but that young man is Ennis.” We suggested Heath to the studio, but they didn’t really take it seriously, and then the actor who’d committed to playing Ennis backed out, and I called Heath’s agent and asked him to get Heath the script. He read it on the way to Australia with Naomi [Watts] for Christmas, and said it was the most beautiful script he’d ever read.
Gyllenhaal: When I first met with Ang there were a number of different combinations of actors he had in mind—and each combination of actors was different. None stayed the same. You would hear, “Oh, this person and that person, or not them at all.” Or “this person and that person,” and then “not them at all.” After I had met with Ang—a brief, somewhat awkward meeting—I heard, “Now he’s thinking about Heath Ledger and you. But if Heath doesn’t want to do it, then it’s going to be somebody else.”
Hathaway: I was filming Princess Diaries 2, and I was working on Universal Lot [where] Ang was going to be meeting with people. So I was able to get a slot during my lunch break. We were shooting the coronation part of the movie, so I was dressed a ball gown, wearing this big hairpiece that was way over the top, but also worked for a rodeo queen, so it was fine. I just put on my jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, and drove across the lot in a golf cart with my big princess hair. I remember being very, very calm, which is unusual for me under any circumstances, especially at 21. I just felt so centered and focused, and in way like a predator: I knew what I wanted.
Ossana: When we were casting Alma, Michelle [Williams] wasn’t even on the radar. I was the only one who put Michelle on my list, and that was because I’d seen her in Dawson’s Creek and remember thinking, What the heck is this young woman doing on this show? You could see the depths she had.
Hathaway: When I’m done with an audition, I can usually tell if I’ve left the door open for another actress to come in behind me, but I left that room knowing that I had closed it, locked it, and welded it shut. I just knew it was mine. People were struggling to see me as anything other than a Disney princess at the time, so to get the endorsement from Ang made me realize that maybe I could take this a bit further. It made me think for the first time that I could be a legit artist. I remember thinking, I got one! Show up. Don’t be the weak link. Keep pace with these people!
Ossana: When Larry and I sat down to write the script, we decided what other scenes we wanted to add. We felt in order to make it full and really understand the impact of their relationship on the people around them, we had to include the children and their wives. A tragedy like that, the ripple effect of someone who was homophobic—which Ennis was—on everyone around them is tremendous.
Hathaway: When I got the part and had my first rehearsal, one of the things Ang told me was: “On the night Lureen and Jack first meet, that’s her Brokeback Mountain, the only one she ever got.” So that kind of fed into the bitterness.
Gyllenhaal: I’d known Heath for a really long time before that movie. We were friends. We went to a sort of boot camp, where we’d all hang out and learn to ride. Heath already knew how to ride really well, but we’d ride and hang out on the ranch outside of Los Angeles. It was really, really amazing.

Hathaway: When I left the audition, the last thing Ang said was, “Oh, by the way, can you ride a horse?” My parents have given me a lot of gifts in my life, and one of them is: If you’re ever asked if you can do anything, say yes. You can learn anything in two weeks if you’re motivated enough. So I’d never been on a horse, and I replied, “Oh yeah, I’m a really good rider.” So I knew I had to learn to ride, and I got really, really, really good. But I was given a horse on set without being told it was a verbal command horse, so I couldn’t figure out how to make it ride. And I went to a rehearsal in front of 300 extras, all of whom work in rodeos, and the horse wouldn’t do a damn thing I wanted it to. And at the end it threw me–in front of everyone.
Gyllenhaal: For the first month of shooting we all lived by this river in little trailers, and I had my dog there. We all just lived on a campground and would walk to set. You know, in a world driven by commerce, particularly in the movie business, there’s no time spent together—relationships are fleeting. But in the old-school way, people really used to spend their time together. They became a family. And that’s what Ang created on the movie. It’s why we are all still close— not just bonded by the success of the film, but bonded by the experience. It was an intimate project in that way. We’d wake up and make breakfast for each other, and hang out. Heath and Michelle fell in love. It was a really special, special time.
Ossana: The first day we filmed that scene where Michelle’s character is on the toboggan and falls off the sled, and Ennis is with her—they’re laughing; well on the third take, Michelle fell off the sled, and at the bottom of the hill she was crying. She’d twisted her knee, and we had to call someone to take her to the hospital. Heath was not about to let her go alone, and as he was getting into the vehicle with her he was smoothing her hair back. I remember him looking at her, and she looking up at him with these wide eyes. She was almost startled by the attention he was giving her, but you could see it every day from thereon. For him it was truly love at first sight. He was so taken with her.
Hathaway: The four of us were taken out to this restaurant in Calgary by the producers, and I remember sitting there and looking at beautiful Heath, and Jake, and Michelle, and it hit me that we were all under 25. It’s funny how recent it was, but at the time we were very far away from this burgeoning humanist moment that we’re having now with gay rights. And it felt like a very big and important step—a statement about love, about the need for love, about the consequences of limiting people. And I was just so blown away that these four 25-year-old kids could bring this to life, especially the three of them.
Ossana: Every crew I’ve filmed with in Canada has been very devoted and determined to do a good job, but on that set several of the crew came up to me early in the filming and confessed to me that they were gay, and how powerfully the script had affected them.
Gyllenhaal: That line [“I don’t know how to quit you”] has moved, it has been mocked, it has been everything in between, but I remember coming out of that scene, off that ridge of the hill, and seeing a number of the crew, some of whom didn’t even know what the movie was about, crying. When I first read that line, I was like, What is that? Now I realize that anybody who has loved knows what that feels like. The interesting part of casting us at such a young age was that we didn’t completely understand what we were involved in, and that’s the beauty of the movie as well.
Ossana: Heath and Jake were very different in their approaches to their characters, and their method. Jake would give many options—he’d do each take slightly differently every time. But Heath would do it the same each time, because he was that character.
Gyllenhaal: What Ang took and manipulated in the most beautiful way is those techniques we have as actors—one of us more improvisational, and the other more strict in his approach. So there are all these intricate things happening, where Ang’s taking who we are as actors and putting them into the characters, and taking pieces of our personality as well. On the set, that proved to be really interesting at times, and also, at times, really frustrating, for both of us.
Ossana: When we did night shoots and everybody was exhausted, between takes Jake would start singing show tunes, and he would do an impression of a big-time mogul producer—he was hilarious. It had a very familial feeling.
Lee: The night we filmed the scene by the river where they talk about Ennis’s childhood, Jake was in a mood to improvise a little bit, and deviate from his lines, and Heath just got really upset—really upset, like his whole progress was disrupted. Jake is more of an improv actor—try this, try that—but Heath’s preparation was really deep. He kept his teeth clenched and his face scrunched up for about two months—he didn’t let go. That’s why some people complained that they couldn’t hear what he was saying. He had to shoot a light-hearted comedy right after we wrapped—Casanova. He told me he just needed to unwind.
Hathaway: Heath almost broke his hand making the movie. It’s the scene where Jack drives off and Ennis starts to walk down the road and all of a sudden sort of falls into an alleyway because he’s got a pain in his stomach and is overwhelmed. Heath just really wanted to go there, and kind of got down. The plan was for him to put his face against the wall—that’s what the shot was supposed to be—and he just wound up punching the brick. Everyone was freaking out because it was a real wall. It wasn’t a movie brick wall. It was a fuckin’ brick wall. And he did it, and they got it, and they said his hand was mangled. He might have actually broken it.
Ossana: I said to Heath, “Ennis doesn’t know why he feels so horrible, why he feels like he’s going to be sick. It’s not a conscious realization yet—he’s suppressing his love for this man so hard, but this is why he feels like he’s going to vomit, why he’s punching the wall.
Lee: One of my favorite scenes is when Ennis goes up to Jack’s parents’ house—it’s about repression, the thing that’s missing, everything they hold back. It’s quite a scene. When I saw the clouds above the house I knew it was going to be a great day of shooting. It just had that feeling. We worked all the way to sunset and beyond. After the first cut, I knew I had something special.
Hathaway: I remember getting to watch the shot of Heath walking across their front yard, which is really just dust and dirt more than anything else, and Heath had decided that at some point Ennis had been in an accident and had a limp. It was so subtle, and it looked like he’d had this limp for about four years, and I just remember looking at Heath in that moment, and thinking, That is one of the greatest actors that has ever been.
Ossana: That day was so intense, oh my lord. And it was very intense for Heath. They did the takes over and over and over, and at a certain point Heath came down and said, “How am I doing, how am I doing?” And I looked at him and said, “You’re making me cry,” and he got so overwhelmed by emotion that he ran out of the building into the dark. I ran after him and asked if he was OK, and he said, “I just need to be alone for a little bit.” And then he came back about 30 minutes later and did the scene again. Actors like that don’t come along very often in one’s lifetime.
Gyllenhaal: While there are many parts of the real story that are sad, one of the saddest things is that I won’t be able to exchange ideas creatively with Heath again, because that was one of the most beautiful things to come out of that.
This story appears in the Sept. 2015 Fall Preview issue of Out. Subscribe and never miss an issue.
Dear Straight Men, Come Out Already
Mason Hsieh Become a fan
Activist, dancer, journalist, and screenwriter – Posted:

Apparently, they called it a “bro-job,” which referred to the oral sex the male rowers occasionally engaged in with one another in the showers back in high school. Or at least that’s what my friend told me. Neither he nor any of the other guys on the team identified as gay, but according to his reports, they would often hook up post-practice, but “like bros, you know? Not in a gay way.”
Every time we talked about it, we always stalemated on the same issues. How can a guy hook up with another and still be straight? Isn’t the act of hooking up with and sexually desiring someone of the same sex inherently gay?
Jane Ward may attempt to shed some light on this in her up and coming book, Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men. Crotch-deep in the world of “straight guy-on-guy action,” Not Gay explores the ways in which straight men engage in sexual activity with other straight men. According to the NYU Press release, “Ward illustrates that sex between straight white men allows them to leverage whiteness and masculinity to authenticate their heterosexuality in the context of sex with men.”
But controlling for race, can engaging in homosexual sex really reaffirm a man’s heterosexuality? Can being with another man make him more straight? Or is it more like the “one-drop rule” — one homosexual interaction and you are forever labeled gay? All of this begs and points to the million-dollar question: Is it the act or the person that makes someone gay or straight? And to this, I look to the split between “identity” and “preference.”
I believe that there is a distinct difference between “gay” and “homosexual.” By definition, homo- and heterosexuality refer specifically to a person’s sexual attraction or preference. In other words, it merely relates to whether the individual prefers or is attracted to partners of the same or opposite sex. Meanwhile, “gay” and “straight” are identities or social categories, which can only fully be assigned to an individual when self-proclaimed, either via declaration or coercion. Thus, I believe that a person is not truly gay until “out,” or in the worst-case scenario, “out-ed.”
Following this logic, I think that an out gay man can have sex with a woman and still be seen as rightfully gay. While the preference and act may be heterosexual, the individual identifies as gay, and identity trumps act. However, as soon as the roles are reversed, everything feels highly suspect. If a straight man has sex with a man, how can he still be straight?
I posit that this suspicion comes from the nature of the LGBT identity as self-selecting. Because sexual orientation is unlike other forms of identity, which are typically seen as inscribed on the body at birth — race, gender, ability — sexual orientation and identity can only be known by the individual. You mark it yourself, ideally, if and when you are ready to do so.
At the same time, we live in a hegemonically heteronormative society. What this means is that “straight” is the presumed default. So, while the gay man must internalize, come to terms with and re-present his sexuality back out into the world, the straight man simply has to be born. Everyone is straight until proven guilty.
This puts straight people in a tenuous position, as their sexual identities never have to be proven outside of the act of sex. Which is why, I believe, straight men who hook up with other men are regarded with such sexual suspicion. To the third party observer, these identities have gone unchecked and unquestioned, and because of this, it is unclear if these actions are part of the individual’s preference and identity or the beginning of a self-exploration process that may end in a gay declarative.
So, to Ward’s Not Gay point, I think straight men can engage in homosexual sex and still be deemed socially acceptably straight, if and only if they too come out — as straight. Rather than simply accepting their unmarked, default straight identity, they should have to interrogate, work through, accept and ultimately present their sexuality back out to the world.
Everyone should go through this process of self-identification. Think about what you prefer. Why do you prefer it? Are you OK with that? If the answer is yes, keep going. Keep questioning it. Keep rethinking what it is that you like and how it changes. And if and when you’re ready to tell the world, do it, unabashed and unashamed.
I honestly believe that if everyone did this, the world would be a more understanding place. Through the process of sexual and preference based interrogation, people would realize that sexuality is a fluid spectrum, with preferences ebbing and flowing through all forms of attraction. And while identity may encompass specific subsets of these spectrums, the mere act of questioning them individually would do away with much of the long held beliefs, assumptions, and prejudices surrounding marriage, partnership and equal rights.
So, bottom line: coming out shouldn’t just be for the gays. It should be for everyone — a coming of age process that all people are lucky enough to take part in. And if you do that and bro-jobs are still your thing, by all means, proceed. No questions asked.
Xavier Dolan Is On The Run In Exclusive Clip From Thriller 'Tom At The Farm'
The 26-year-old filmmaker is back in front of the camera.

French-Canadian filmmaker Xavier Dolan is back in front of the camera in his latest film, “Tom at the Farm.” The psychological thriller marks the first time the 26-year-old writer-director-actor has ventured into a genre film.
“Tom at the Farm,” which debuted at the 2013 Venice Film Festival and finally opens in the U.S. this week, follows the death of Tom’s (Dolan) lover Guillaume. When Tom travels from the city to the countryside for the funeral, he learns that the family knows little of his existence. While Guillaume’s mother (Lise Roy) was expecting a visit from her son’s non-existent girlfriend, the brother Francis (Pierre-Yves Cardinal) quickly understands who Tom is and is adamant to keep his late brother’s sexuality from their mother, even with violence.
In an exclusive clip from the film, scored by Oscar-winning composer Gabriel Yared (“The English Patient”), Tom attempts to escape the family farmhouse after an abusive altercation with Francis.
“Tom at the Farm” opens on Aug. 14
Same-sex marriage is legal…..
But as a gay teenager in Utah, I keep one foot in the closet.
I didn’t always live out here. I was born in New York City. I grew up for a while in a series of identical tri-state suburbs. Then my father lost his job in the ’08 crash, and we lost all our money along with it.
The house went first, then the car. We lived in hotels and cabins half-abandoned in the woods. Our lives were held up by a string of good luck days. Once, the car broke down on the side of the road the night before Thanksgiving. An old couple happened by, complete strangers — they let us borrow their Mercedes. They had three. That kind of a good luck day.
In 2013 our savings ran dry. We couldn’t pay rent. We had family in Salt Lake City willing to finance our excursion and to let us stay with them for a while. My mother decided it was time to move west.
My friends told me it would be a culture shock; they worried I could get jumped, assaulted, or excluded because of my sexuality. I ignored them, chalking their fears up to too much media hype over the LGBTQ community’s fight for rights, some lazy stereotype about red states. I thought that no place in America could be that bad.
But I was wrong. I was spoiled by New York. Here’s what I’ve learned living as a gay teenager in Utah.
Homophobia is the norm (even under the guise of acceptance)
“One foot in the closet.” That’s how I’ve described my situation. I’m out to close friends and am comfortable with myself, but the vast majority of people I interact with on a daily basis think I’m straight. I doubt I’ll ever tell them otherwise, because almost everyone, no matter how accepting or open-minded they appear on the outside, is at least a little homophobic.
I made the mistake of being too frivolous with my sexuality early on in my Utah life. Back in New York, I was out to practically my whole school by sophomore year. I was an active participant in the Gay-Straight Alliance and would give anyone who asked directly, “Are you gay?” a straight yes. (I valued those with enough courage to ask me directly rather than listen to rumors.) I think people respected me for it. I was one of the first people in the relatively small, fringe-rural school to openly declare my sexuality with pride.
When I arrived in Utah, I tried to repeat the process. No rumors and respect this time: I bombed like a lukewarm blockbuster, quickly and quietly.
If I’m lucky, I can have a five-minute conversation about my sexuality with a friend, cold and uninspired. “Yeah,” one of them might say, “my aunt is lesbian, but we don’t really talk to her much.” They’ll avoid it like a cliff without a guardrail, punctuate sentences with sighs; “gay marriage is legalized now,” they may say with a straight face. Even modest, passing comments about a cute boy in English class are met as if I’m coming out all over again, as if they’re just remembering: Oh right. You’re still gay.
I don’t need to talk nonstop about how I like it in bed; I’ll always be the first to say that there’s so much more to people than their sexuality. But I don’t feel truly open. Even people who will smile and say they’re “accepting” are hesitant to ever bring up the topic again, against attending even a vaguely LGBTQ-related event, closed off when you ask them for advice related to sexuality. (Of course, you’re still expected to be their wingman for straight pickups. A gay guy is always less intimidating as a sideline bestie.)
Acceptance here is a promise not to jump you in the parking lot, but it’s nothing more than that. Be gay, fine, but don’t come to our dances — one of these once-every-six-weeks affairs where kids drop $2,000 in a single night— with a same-sex partner. Don’t expect to make much contact, either: On the dance floor the closest thing you’ll get to same-sex partying is a sweaty soon-to-be frat boy accidentally bumping into you while falling out of the mosh pit.
I’ve gone with women to these things before. The expectation is always the same: You’ll drive around, maybe you’ll try some Vicodin or Oxy, probably you’ll end up making out with your date on some person’s couch, somewhere in town, tired and sweaty from dancing too long. Or you’re a prude. Or you’re not a good Utahan, where all the conservative, religious stigma in the state can’t stop some liberal rule bending around heterosexual sex, so long as you don’t mention “the gays.” If you do, it’s stares and disapproval all around, even from the “accepting” ones.
High school support networks are abysmal
If you’re like me, unable to break the barriers of the gay clique at your local high school (assuming there even is one), you’re left with the internet. You can go to chat rooms and liberal havens like Tumblr in an attempt to feel included in some kind of community or support network, but that’s all.
I’ve never attended the GSA at my Utah school, but from secondhand accounts I know it’s pretty much a facade. The club consists mainly of straight “allies” (read: more pseudo-supporters, vain acceptors) who come to eat food and talk to friends and perhaps, once, mention an issue related to the LGBTQ community before returning to their snacks.
It’s not like they’ve had any backing from the school administration; the GSA isn’t listed on the official student handbook as a chartered student group, and it is for all intents and purposes banned from advertising events beyond word of mouth.
The GSA in New York was years ahead of this one. Sure, we were underfunded, and we clashed with the school administration on more than one occasion. But we were a presence. We planned and executed the first-ever Pride Week in our area, devoting each day of the week to a different sexual minority and celebrating diversity in sexuality. We made the local news. At our largest meetings we drew in around 30 kids; I’d be hard-pressed to find 30 kids at my current school in Utah who can even name what all the letters in LGBT Q stand for, let alone define those terms past G.
Which leaves a scary hole in the support network of Utah that everyone seems keen to ignore. Last year, a student at my Utah high school committed suicide. Two years ago, another local high school had five suicides within nine months. I don’t know how many of those, if any, were motivated by sexuality. But back in my New York school, we never had a single one.
In a way, the flamboyant ones have it easier
I’m not flamboyant. On the outside, I “look straight,” “talk straight,” “walk straight.” When I came out in New York, at the beginning of my freshman year, reactions from friends and family landed largely between shock and denial. Never a pregnant pause waiting for the second half of the sentence. Never: “I knew it all along.”
I think if I were more like what people imagine when they think of a gay teenager, coming out in a place like Utah might have been easier. The flamboyant ones know what to do after they come out. They cluster into cliques and circles, backs turned out to shield each other from bigotry. Everyone knows the crowd that hangs in the choir classroom at lunch is “the gay crowd,” and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to see it. Sure, there’s a lot of talk about them behind their backs, rumors spread about who’s with who — sometimes they’re even beacons for bullies to prey on, verbally and physically.
But at the end of the day it’s a brotherhood bound together by a common knowledge of each other’s sexual orientation and the way the world deems them second-tier. The more a society pressures them, the more they push back in any way they can. Call it equal and opposite, hair dyed cyan and pink as a warning to all those bigots who pass: This is not your crowd. We are not your friends.
I am not part of this club. I never have been, and I likely never will be. I look too much like the straight guys who have oppressed them for too long; they’re understandably wary of letting me in. Why would you trust someone who looks like a threat? This is an exclusive club, and admission requirements are fierce: a strut like Beyoncé, a rainbow flag buttoned to your backpack, and a wrist flip as you tell off an outsider.
But I’m an outsider to the mainstream too. I’m stuck. I’m not flamboyant enough for the gay clique, not fraternal enough for straight culture. But here in Utah, there’s hardly a middle ground.
Straight guys are a lot more willing to be touchy
I recently went on a field trip that involved rooming with three other guys. Two were acquaintances, one I hardly knew at all. We were paired up, assigned two to each bed, and I discovered something strange: The other guys became remarkably close, in a way that would be considered borderline sexual back in New York.
I would come back from a coffee run in the lobby to find two of them lying side by side under the blankets in bed, eyes gleaming at each other, talking in hushed voices like girls at a slumber party. Games of footsie were common, and sharing of household items —socks and deodorant — was a daily occurrence. They had no qualms about being naked in front of each other, even if I demurred. Sweat and secrets: That Hilton room became a den of testosterone and camaraderie for a good four days. I was shocked.
But in retrospect, it makes sense.
In a conservative state like Utah, we don’t talk about gays. There’s never an assumption that anyone is gay; the few who exist are the ones in the choir room, relegated to their own social circles. Otherwise it isn’t a part of ordinary life.
The idea that someone could appear masculine and also be gay is ridiculous in a society like this; more than ridiculous, it just isn’t considered. So there’s no fear of footsie. There’s no worrying about what the late-night pillow fights or stark, aloof nudity in the hotel room mean, because it will always be just two straight buddies playing around.
It’s the same sort of attitude you see in organized sports: Butt slapping in the locker room is no big deal until one guy out of 20 is gay, and then it’s weird because what if he means something by it? What if he hits on me?
In a strange way, it’s almost more sexually liberating than the climate back in New York. Men aren’t afraid of being labeled homosexual, so there’s no reason to hide a brotherly love. My first time in a Utah locker room featured multiple men openly stripping down, showing it all, and nobody batting an eye. While doing a bench press, my spotter shoved his groin in my face. “You don’t want this, do you?” he asked, prompting me to move down on the bench. It was casual, fraternal.
But this is the height of heteronormativity. Homophobic slurs are still casual, part of the cultural norm. “You don’t want this, do you?” No, of course I don’t. Because I’m straight. It doesn’t even need to be clarified.
The oases of open-mindedness are that much more special
The pressure to conform is intense for everyone in high school, but arguably no teenage minority group has received more attention in recent years than the LGBTQ community. Teenage LGBTQ suicides are marks of a time we can only hope is coming to an end, albeit slowly. Gay marriage is now legalized nationwide, but there’s more work to be done. Homophobia is an ugly illness in the midst of being treated, but it will be generations before the symptoms are gone — if they ever disappear at all.
Too many areas of the country are still caught up in past decades, openly oppressing those who don’t fall into the mainstream, those who are too loud or flamboyant, “too gay to pass.” A typical day is filled with a million subtle, mostly unintentional digs at a piece of who I am. Every passive comment between buddies about a “hot chick” or “cute babe” is a reminder that you’re different. It’s the definition of living as a minority: The world is built for the powerful, and you aren’t it.
I’ve lived here for almost 18 months. I have another year before I can leave the state for college. I’ve realized in that time that the people who accept you — truly accept you, not just on a surface level — are the people you remember most.
My best friends, interestingly, have not been met inside school; rather, they’ve been met at the oases of open-mindedness: coffee shops and universities, queer-centered events. I don’t disregard the love I garnered in New York, but it was ultimately expected. It’s a place bound to accept people of all personalities, sexualities, shapes, and sizes.
In Utah, acceptance is hard sought and, therefore, much more precious when it’s found. I know the network of friends I’ve made here will last because it’s built on a mutual drive, a fight against that which cages us. I know we are a force to be reckoned with. It’s much more than equal and opposite. We want to push back, at least in the little ways.
William Wheeler is a high school student living in Salt Lake City with his family.
Barcelona's Circuit Festival
Going to Spain this year, have you been to Spain this year, did you go to Barcelona’s Circuit Festival?
Curtis M. Wong,

BARCELONA, SPAIN – AUGUST 11: Festival goers enjoy the atmosphere at Isla Fantasia Water Park as part of the Circuit Festival on August 11, 2015 in Barcelona, Spain. The Circuit Festival is considered the Europe’s biggest gay and lesbian festival. More than 70,000 people flock to Barcelona every August to enjoy 12 days of parties and activities around the city. Festival goers are expeted to spend about 150 million euros during the Festival. The Festival was born in Barcelona in 2008 by the Matinee Group and nowadays they are organizing similar festival in more than 20 countries such as Dubai, Russia and Israel. (Photo by David Ramos/Getty Images)

Why aren't schools educating kids against sex abuse?
Sex education: Give pupils knowledge, skills & confidence to resist abusers
By Peter Tatchell
International Business Times – London, UK – 20 August 2015
READ & COMMENT: http://ibt.uk/A006MQq
The sexual abuse of children is a national scandal. So why are schools doing so little to help combat it? This neglect is outrageous, given that educating and empowering young people with sexual rights, knowledge, skills and confidence can help protect them against abuse.
The current UK anti-child sex abuse strategy focuses overwhelmingly on apprehending and prosecuting abusers. That’s good and important. But it is a somewhat one-sided approach. It neglects the very important, effective role that young people can play in stopping abuse.
The shocking scale of child sexual exploitation proves that criminal sanctions are not enough. They aren’t working. The already strong laws against abuse are being flouted, as shown by the constant stream of sex abuse trials. Tougher penalties are unlikely to deter or make much difference. More robust investigation and prosecution will definitely help a lot. But what’s also urgently needed are new initiatives that help young people protect themselves.
Most sexual abuse does not involve explicit coercion or violence. Psychological pressure and manipulation are more common.
It is therefore astonishing that young people are not being advised about the warning signs of grooming and given sexual assertiveness training to deter and repel predators. These issues are not a mandatory part of a national curriculum that is obligatory for all schools.
Indeed, the issue of abuse is not adequately – if at all – discussed in most schools. It should be talked about as preventative education, but it isn’t. Most teachers don’t advise young people about sex abuse and what to do if they are molested. Telling them to phone Childline is not good enough.
Fending off a predatory older (or younger) person is not easy, even for adults. It is an acquired skill, and it requires a degree of confidence. Young people therefore need to be taught the ability and assuredness to resist and report unwanted sexual advances.
Assertiveness skills can be taught and, once learned, can empower teens to rebuff pressure from abusers, whether they are older or of similar ages. Although this may not work for everyone, it will work for some. Even if this education prevents only a minority of children from falling victim to sexual exploitation, it would be worthwhile.
We also need to look at the bigger picture: the social values that often unwittingly and unintentionally underpin the abuse of children.
Sex-negative attitudes are a contributory factor. People who sexually exploit youngsters often get away with it because the victims feel embarrassed and ashamed about sex and are therefore reluctant to report it. This shame and embarrassment is reinforced by a cultural mix of prudery and puritanism, which tends to regard sex as something sordid that should be kept hidden and private. This anti-sex mentality is a godsend to abusers. They rely on shame and secrecy to carry out their molestation undetected.
To undermine the sexual shame that inhibits the exposure of abusers, sex and relationship lessons in schools should encourage young people to have a more open, positive attitude towards sexual matters and to feel less inhibited about discussing them. Teenagers who feel at ease talking about sex are more likely to disclose abuse. Prompt reporting is the key to stopping sexual exploitation.
The other problematic social value that needs to be challenged is adult chauvinism, which is best summed up in the old adage that children should be seen and not heard. This, again, plays into the hands of abusers. Not infrequently, they get away with molestation by relying on the young victim’s reticence to challenge an adult; especially if the adult has a position of authority over them or has prestigious social standing. The fear (and reality) of disbelief by adults when reporting abuse is very strong, as many victims have reported.
Despite child-centred legal reforms in the UK over the last three decades, children’s rights remain somewhat contradictory and confused – especially in the realm of sexual rights.
According to the law, a person under 16 is incapable of consenting to a sexual act. They are deemed unable to understand the implications of having sex. Any sexual relationship with such a person, even if freely entered into by both partners of similar ages, is therefore categorised, in law, as a criminal offence.
By saying that the under-16s are not allowed to consent to a sexual relationship, the unspoken message is that they have no sexual rights – no right to control their own body and make their own decisions. This is the precise mind-set of abusers.
Curiously, the UK age of criminal responsibility is ten. From that age onwards, the law says that a person who commits a crime, such as murder, can be assumed to know what they were doing and can therefore be held responsible for their behaviour. But it is not until the age of 16 that the law acknowledges young people’s ability to give sexual consent. The bizarre implication is that a decision to have consenting sex requires greater mental maturity, and is more complex and grave, than a decision to kill.
The ten-year-old killers of James Bulger were declared by the courts to be old enough to understand, and to be held responsible for, their actions – and mature enough be convicted of murder. But if they’d had sex with each other and said they had consented, the courts would have ruled that they were too young to understand what is involved in a sexual relationship – and therefore incapable of giving their consent.
This points to the legal muddle over the sexual rights of youth. Parliament rightly seeks to safeguard against abuse. It sets the age of consent at 16. But by denying the under-16s the right to consent to sex, it reinforces the idea that they have no right to make their own sexual choices. Isn’t this also what child sex abusers believe? That teens have no right to decide?
I am not saying that sex involving young people under 16 should be lawful. I am merely pointing out the inconsistencies; that the law seems to inadvertently help legitimate the disempowering attitudes that allow abuse to flourish.
To combat abusive relations, all schools should be legally required to educate young people about consent and abuse issues, give them sexual assertiveness training and positively encourage a culture of young people’s rights; including the right to control their own bodies. This includes the right to say ‘no’ to unwanted sex (whatever the age of the other person) and the right and responsibility to report attempted and actual abusers.
A useful sex and relationship education mantra might be: “It’s my body. It’s my right to decide.”
This affirmation of teenagers’ right to sexual self-determination, and their education and empowerment to assert that right against abusers, should be mandatory in every school. Over to you, Education Secretary, Nicky Morgan.
- For more information about the Peter Tatchell Foundation’s human rights work, to receive our email bulletins or to make a donation:www.PeterTatchellFoundation.org
The Warwick Rowers are back, raising money for gay rights, and they’re more naked than ever
Not suitable for work: We have got seven shots teasing their 2016 naked calendar

The Warwick Rowers are back, and these British boys are baring all once again to raise money for gay rights.
The university rowing team have teased their brand new 2016 naked calendar.
Once again, the money raised will go to supporting young people who are challenged by bullying, homophobia or low-self esteem in sport through Sports Allies.
And we have got a few shots to make the wait worthwhile. Some are from their new calendar, some from their new coffee table book, and some are from behind the scenes.






Head over to the Warwick Rowers website to see all of their offers and their teaser video.
Belfast Pride 2015: sea of colour and party atmosphere as parade gets underway
Thousands of people joined in the fun of the 25th annual Pride parade in Belfast on Saturday.
Organisers said they expect a bigger turnout than usual at the parade following the Yes vote in the Republic’s referendum on same-sex marriage and subsequent push for marriage equality in Northern Ireland.
Belfast Pride website says the organisers wanted the even to be “a big, positive celebration of the 25th anniversary of Belfast Pride as well a celebration of our community and our place in the city”.
Meanwhile a small group of protesters clutching placards displaying Bible verses gathered at Belfast City Hall in opposition to the event.
View photos from the event in the gallery above.
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