Mission Accomplished! #60

Presented in Queeriovision

The conservative magnifying glass has focused more intently on children’s programming lately with homophobic accusations tossed at (clearly queer) beloved cartoon character Spongebob Squarepants and, more recently the Public Broadcasting Service.

U.S. Education Secretary Margaret Spellings blasted PBS for secretly supporting the “gay agenda” through its children’s programming. The episode in question, "Sugartime!" passively refers to a lesbian couple who are maple sugar farmers in Vermont.

Ms. Spellings has no conceivable notion just how deeply the gay agenda has infiltrated children’s television and videos.

“Sugartime!” and Spongebob are only two of nearly a million programs featuring gay themes discretely slipped into children's content. Red state parents, I now give you a tiny glimpse into the power of the queer media and the insidious programming that homosexuals have in store for your impressionable children.

BEAVERS FOREVER: An empowering tale of a “worst to first” all-girl’s high school basketball team, the Beavers, who face down financial and gender adversity and discover they don’t need boys for anything. The Beavers raise enough money to go to the State finals and win!
Morgan, the team captain, wins the heart of the head cheerleader, Susie, when she asks her out to the prom. On top of it all, the young ladies rock out to a surprise prom concert given by the Indigo Girls.

MORRIS AND BRAWNY'S CUB COTTAGE: Morris and Brawny are bears. Bears live in the woods. Bears don't wear a lot of clothes and tend to sniff as many other bears as “bearly” possible. Parent's complain cause the cartoon "bears" aren't even bears, just horny, chubby gay men with beards.

SUSIE 2 THE MAX: A Claymation special starring Susie, a teacup voiced by Mario Cantone, and Max, a hammer voiced by Lea Delaria. The two live in a giant loft apartment in beautiful Chelsea, New York where they explore the neighborhood with Devon (voiced by Neil Patrick Harris); their single, educated, witty owner who has a large disposable income and really nice furniture. Devon's mother, (voiced by Cher) constantly asks him why he has no girlfriend yet compliments him on his interior design skills.

TINY TYKES TINA TIME: Preschoolers learn from Francisco, a swishy Latino drug lord, how to count in Spanish with the help of song and dance and gay party drug, crystal-meth. The kids keep counting and counting and counting and dancing and dancing and dancing. One memorable scene features a four year-old boy shrieking "This shit is better than Kool-aid!" With a running time of four days and six hours this special is sure to make your kids want a siesta, eventually.

TINKY WINKY AND CHARLES NELSON REILLY HAPPY HAPPY FUN HOUR: He’s baaack. Before Spongebob there was Tinky Winky! Tinky giggles and teaches basic shapes in this colorful Japanese import while a digitally remastered Charles Nelson Reilly drinks martinis and complains about his lousy life. Parents didn't like the occasional guest appearances by John Cameron Mitchell of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” fame as Chronasylestria - a time traveling, drag queen crime-solver who can only transport herself by exposing her genitalia.

Parents, you’ve been warned.

Style Your Rile!

Hello everyone! Gayest Neil here with faboo fashion tips to keep you pretty while protesting the Republican National Convention. I’ve got a lot to cover, so let’s get marching!

Add some flare to your ire. Even the smallest detail can transform a paltry protester into a rocking rebel. Does that boring old black stocking mask got you down? Try something new. Accentuate your stocking mask with a breezy sun hat or a floppy fedora. A paisley scarf or a crimson hanky are wonderful additions to any militant garb. With a small pair of scissors, cut eyeholes into
the material and wear sunglasses underneath. The cops can’t see you, and the sun is kept out of your eyes as well.

Don’t be afraid of face paint! From whimsy clown paint to militant camouflage, properly applied face paint will make you the hit of your MoveOn clique. Be sure to powder after though! The hot sun makes you sweat and the last thing you want is Ben Nye Blue 3 running into your eyes. They’ll be stinging enough from the pepper spray and tear gas.

Choose a style and go for it! Whether it’s EcoTerrorism, Women’s Rights, Urban Anarchy or Free Tibet, grab your theme and go for it with gusto. In this day and age, the issues to protest are endless. Unfortunately so are the style options. Slogan t-shirts do the talking for you, but words can get so very busy. Trinkets and just the right haircut can say more than any Greenpeace logo.

But not all T-shirts are bad. Vintage is sooo in. Shake the dust off those old Democratic campaign t-shirts and parade your liberal cred by supporting Carter, Mondale and Clinton. Even Gore is chic after his Bush blasting a few months back, not to mention that beard makes him damn sexy. Woof, woof. He can put me in a lock-box any day! (Gays can make anything sound like a sexual innuendo).

Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate! But for God sakes don’t arrive with a gallon jug of tap water in a disgusting Tupperware pitcher. Please. Spend a little bling and treat yourself to a thirst quenching designer water. From Cherokee Mountain “America’s first water” to Della Madonna “the choice of Popes and Emperors for centuries”, your perfect water is only a mouse click away. And don’t forget the sunscreen. Moisturize today to avoid a face peel tomorrow.

Gender Bender? Boys who are girls who are girls who are boys. Nothing confuses Republicans more than gender bending. Straight boys, don’t shy away from wearing a skirt. You’d be surprised how liberating it is and how many looks you’ll get skipping up Seventh Avenue. Just pray you don’t get arrested. If you showed up in the clink wearing a gown, even I would beat you.

Forget Foot Comfort. You may have to run from nightsticks, horses hooves and Karl Rove, but properly fitting and comfortable footwear is not an issue if you see the perfect shoe for Sunday’s perfect march. Think slinky and narrow!

Best Fist Forward. Pump that fist in the air, but only if it’s wearing a stylish fingerless glove, sequined mitten or studded leather wrist-cuff. Silver rings and properly manicured fingernails add to your handy aesthetic.

Don’t Bring a Bag. I clutch to my clutches like a mewling infant to the umbilicus. But alas, on Sunday I’m leaving my Kate Spade Mini-Duffle at home. Too much hassle from the police and the hungry, hungry hippies. Just because I have a bag doesn’t mean I want to share my Portobello mushroom and Brie sandwich with you Moonbeam! Make sure all of your belongings can fit inside your pockets.

Dress Like a Tourist? Other people say it’s a good idea in order to blend in with the gawkers. I say don’t do it. If I see you dressed like a tourist, I’ll definitely snub you. And neither of us wants that, darling. Be safe, have a wonderful protest and one last tip: Blue is perfect for any occasion, especially this November.

Reality Dwarfs Fiction!

It's 6:04 am on Sunday. I'm dining in a posh, 24 hour, Chelsea diner and the Mexican waiter refuses to serve me a martini. I threatened to have his job. He threatened to kill me, and that was that. The brute.

Apologies for my crankiness, I had a rough night.

I don't remember where I went or who I met last night. My subconscious activates a protective memory function once the clock ticks past 3 am. I awoke on the sidewalk with no wallet and no shoes. It must have been an absolutely wonderful evening. Come Tuesday, I'll be in a fetal position weeping as the events flood back to me, but for now, ignorance is definitely bliss.

The kind waiter has made me what I coined a fake-tini: tonic water and an olive. It's dreadful to sip, but it keeps up appearances.

Keeping up appearances? Remember when media presented the gay community as skinny, AIDS ridden, leather men sporting Freddy Mercury moustaches, their ACT-UP fists perpetually pumping the air? In the eighties, you'd see club kids on Geraldo, decked out in stilettos and dressed as animals or robots or vampires, high on cocaine and shocking suburban housewives with their crazy antics. And no comedy night was complete without a prerequisite suit jacketed, stand-up lesbian comedienne?

Where have our cliches gone? Have we kept up appearances for so long that we've forgotten we're called queer because we are queer? Have we forgotten what queer means?

ASSIMILATE OR DIE!

Like zombies to a mall, thousands of gay and lesbian couples run to 'activist' courthouses to get a paper tangling them in the dreadful miasma that is heterosexual marriage. I support gay marriage, but I refuse to traipse down the aisle locked in a heterosexist mold.

I'd rather meet a man in a sex club. I'd propose and we'd marry the very next day. I'd wear a goat costume and have my fiancee dress as a farmer if only to stir the flames of the Bible Belt. I'd kiss the news reporter on the mouth and tell Straight America, "My husband is taking me home to sodomize me! We're married!!!"

You never see the photos of two men in bridal dresses reciting their nuptials. No, the politically incorrect crazies have been hidden in the basement now that the gays are moving in across the street.

"Honey, look. Gays are moving in across the street. Oh wow, there are three of them. They must be in a consensual polyamorous relationship. That's quite progressive."

"It certainly is. Why look at the boxes of dildos! That one is as a big as a fire plug."

"I can't wait til they have all night, drug fueled, sex orgies. I love the sound of booming music at 4 am on a Tuesday."

"Me too sweetie. Oh and look at that. Turns out they're nudists. Things have certainly gotten spicier in our neighborhood!"

Even fucking reality television will only portray gays who are chiseled and good looking and seeking love and commitment. In a field of shows like, 'Marry a Retarded Person' or 'Eat Shit for Money' or 'Who'll Win a Midget' we still aren't allowed to see the real crazies in our midst.

I want to be in a show simply called 'Gay People are Crazy.' You fill a SoHo loft with twelve gay men and they eliminate each other week after week. At the end, the last bitch standing wins the loft. Then you'd see the ugly face of gay culture. But we aren't allowed to wear that mask in public, only among ourselves.

Why? Because doing so would give the Right the ammo it needs to convince America that we aren't normal. Well you know what? America's a pretty fucked up place regardless!

Gays just know how to keep up appearances better.

Waiter, another fake-tini please!