Friday, July 04, 2008

Kids of London, Carry Knives!

There are many, many scary clowns out there.

It's Gay Pride tomorrow, so you might want to upgrade to a chainsaw.

Oh, let's not get into the whole debate about whether or not there still needs to be any kind of activism among the gay community now we've got employment protection and marriage lite from Nu-Labour. What's the point in getting married if you can't hold hands anywhere in the country without any kind of reaction? I mean, 200 complaints about a beans ad where a man kisses another man because it's going to force parents to discuss homosexuality with their kids to me sounds like 200 referrals to social services for abuse.

Pride's not the right vehicle for this kind of thing any more. If you're feeling political, you'll get far further by writing to your MP to talk to them about hate crime, schooling or media representation than you will by holding yet another banner in yet another parade, the likes of which there are every weekend in Central London. Talk about suicide rates among queer teens, talk about unchallenged homophobia on television, talk about oppressive institutions. Be polite, be rational and punctuate well and you'll get more done for "the cause" than a thousand whistles on pink string ever will.

Yes, celebrate what we've achieved, become yet another unreported Vauxhall drug death, another bareback zombie using sex as self-harm, dance yourself into a pool of sweat and flesh and vomit. Be proud of everything that takes your money and keeps you away from confronting the fact that most people don't give a shit where your jizz lands but hate that thing you do with your hair far more.

Admit you don't want equality. Admit you want an excuse to claw your eyes out in a frenzy of sex and meth. Then we'll be proud of you. Go march, ye muscle maries, ye trolly dollies, ye emo kids, ye fags, trannies, dykes, daddies, uncles, man-cunt cumsluts and your friends and supporters. Clap your hands and click your heels together every time a fairy dies, neck full of pills, belly full of GBL, wrists full of cuts and arse full of spunk. We've nothing to fight for now, so fight for your piece of auto-annihilation, that nothing you've waited your whole life for.

Bear arms, ye fat blokes with bear arms, just don't point those claws at yourselves.


Cazz said...

Slight nitpick. It was Heinz, yes, but it wasn't a beans advertisement.

call paul said...

But I bought a new pink t-shirt!

Qenny said...

Wow - fantastic, powerful, and about as close to a manifesto statement for the coterie as I've read. Excellent stuff, H.