Thursday, January 26, 2012

Miranda Catches the Gay

Cynthia Nixon recently said in the NY Times that she “chose” to be gay, which caused controversy and people freaking out and etc. To all of which Andrew Sullivan responds:

“My own view is that female sexuality is inherently more fluid than male sexuality, and that lesbians and bisexual women, because they are less fixated on crude physical signals for arousal, have more of a choice than men, gay or straight, in their choice of loved ones. I think this is about the difference between lesbian identity and gay male identity. For all the attempt to corral us into one vowel-free liberal conglomerate, I know few communities less alike than lesbians and gay men.”

That is a beautiful and succinct way of putting it. Let me put it another way: my sexuality is tectonic plates miles thick and thousands of miles broad grinding away beneath the earth’s crust on incomprehensibly powerful tides of magma, grinding and crushing and destroying and building up vast pressures sapped only momentarily by hellfire explosions and earth-shattering quakes that ruin civilizations and crush lives. Your sexuality, womankind, is a toy house made of toothpicks and gumdrops that you can disassemble and restructure on a whim. Your sexuality is as the mustard seed, small and unassuming but capable of flowering into something beautiful, delicate and complex under exactly the right circumstances. My sexuality is the fucking SUN.

Or maybe not. Seems to be more of a continuum with women. Some of them are raging fuckbeasts like myself and some of them are prim old dowager types trapped in the bodies of 23 year old actress/ waitresses. I think a good analogy for the variance in women’s horniness is the variance in men’s violent urges. You take a varying level of testosterone, possibly mix in being “socialized” in various different ways and you get a rainbow:

A few Dylan Klebold-type guys want to mass murder– these are your rawdog in the bar bathroom every night/ gangbang a fraternity type chicks.

A few more guys like to go out and maybe beat some ass with a pool cue a couple nights a week. Or drive around in Denzel’s car from TRAINING DAY tagging shit and doing drive by’s. These are girls whom a dickhead would call “sluts.”

Most guys, though, don’t spend the day thinking about fighting but will throw fists if they’re being threatened, or if they’re drunk enough, or once in a while if they’re just feeling crazy, etc. Just like most girls might go home with someone tall and confident and hot, or a guy in a band they just saw, or if they’re just in the mood, but not all the time or with everyone.

And then there’s a fringe of guys like me who would get their ass beat by a ten year old girl and are afraid of breaking a knuckle anyway. Guys who almost never feel the urge to fight. These are your Cynthia Nixons. Someone whose sexuality is mutable, because it’s not really sexuality as a base, urgent desire. It’s eating because you like the taste of food. This person knows what it means to be horny the way an earthworm knows the desire to find the perfect translation of Proust.

Obviously I’m talking out of my ass and have no fucking idea what goes through Cynthia Nixon’s mind, or her stern, cold ginger pussy. But I think Sullivan’s right– you’d never hear a dude saying being gay (or straight) is a choice. I mean guys who are honest with themselves, not the pastor running a gay reeducation camp for Christ while secretly smoking pole. Or at least, I would never say being gay or straight is a choice, and I’m a dude, so– all other dudes must think exactly like me.

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