The eggheads at New Scientist have unveiled another theory of the possible purpose of homosexuality. Or at least I think that’s what they’re saying. At first, I thought it was just hot gay beetle porn:
But bisexual beetles are nothing compared to the craziness in Austria: after Jörg Haider, 52-year-old leader of a far-right racist party, died in a car accident last month, longtime rumours about his sexuality were rekindled by news that he’d left a gay bar right before his drunk-driving death. Now his replacement, 27-year-old Stefan Petzner, has revealed that he and Haider were lovers! “He was the man of my life,” says Petzner, blowing the minds of neo-Nazis horrified that Haider was gay and gay people horrified that Haider was a neo-Nazi.
Conservatives in Australia think they’re keeping it simple: 17 different organizations in Australia are now banding together under the umbrella concept “Gender matters.” It’s not about being anti-gay, they claim — merely about protecting “natural biological families” by renaming homosexuality “gender disorientation pathology.” C’mon gang, there are people still frustrated that ‘gay’ no longer means ‘happy’ and now you want to spring all that on them?
Even equality in marriage — a simple idea thankfully settled in Canada –is making no sense down south. California state Senator Tom McClintock is supporting the proposition to ban gay marriage with a confusing analogy from Abraham Lincoln (wait, wasn’t he gay?): “‘If you call a tail a leg, how many legs has a dog? The
answer is four. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it one.'” McClintock adds, “And calling a homosexual partnership a marriage
doesn’t make it one.”
Well that’s some iron-clad logic right there so I must agree: for instance, it’s true that if I say Tom McClintock is a horse’s ass, it does not actually make him the ass of a horse. Even if what comes out of him is manure.
But all this bizarre back-and-forth is why, once again, we cheer for Ellen Degeneres, who often insists she doesn’t like to “get political” yet rises to the occasion every time she’s forced to, with wit and style. Here she goes again, keeping it simple: