A Brief History of FOB Heroes, Including Gay Men But Not Including Jeph or Queen Zippergut, Who Appear to Have Not Written About Men
FOB HEROES - A FAIRY TALE
Once upon a time, there was a young man who was very, very angry with his father. No, he was not just a little angry, as heroes in stories so often are, but very, very, very angry--so angry, in fact, that he was gay--or perhaps he only had a friend who was gay--but in any case, he or his friend very much enjoyed staring at the slowly revealed backflesh of his scout leader. And this was all, of course, because he was angry at his father (well, everyone, really). Which was unusual, because he was a test tube baby. This caused him to cry a lot (the father anger thing, not the test tube or gay thing), which demonstrated that he was black.
Now, this young man did a lot of sitting in gardens with snow on his lap, contemplating the order of the universe. At times, he was even uncertain as to whether he was himself, or whether he was a bunch of abstract stripes. The only time he could really be certain of himself was when he felt up his own scapula, or flew around on his wings--which strangely never seemed to work quite right. Sometimes, he worried because he was balding, but when he saw his shining (0ne might even say lambent) face in the mirror, he felt better.
This young man seemed to be mostly a bit player in other people's lives. He had a girlfriend that was a bit difficult to understand, as she would announce, variously, that she was a Wholly Moral Person (this was new, when she brought it up), and that she was morally irredeemable. Fortunately, not being religious himself, he passed no judgment upon her, and was even able to steeple his fingers and look at her over his glasses from time to time, spouting sporadic wisdom and semiotics.
Deciding to get himself another girlfriend, the young man moved to another city and messed up his apartment, certain that this was the way to seduce the purple-glassied women he ran into frequently. To his surprise, his foul-mouthed, foul-minded, and fowl-eating ex-wife appeared, determined to ruin his every chance for happiness. Eventually, her tactics prevailed, and he ran from her, uncertain whether he was in the present or the past. So confused he was that got a side job interviewing men who were incongruously gay, or gaily incongruous--he could never be sure. So affecting was the experience that, forever afterward, whenever he thought something was funny, he would chortle: "Byuck, byuck, byuck."
Around this time, a phone call from his mother reminded him that he was, in fact, in the family of Emily Post. This was remarkable, and he remarked upon it.
Having thus clarified things, the young man began to have vivid waking dreams in which he stalked a young woman and discovered magazines of salacious and Karen-Carpenter-loving material in his car. Transferring some of his rage to his mother, the young man declared that he would no longer be trapped by linear time and then went out to throw a baseball around with his friend.
Having thus declared his independence, he decided to retreat to English Austenian time and spout various witty archaisms, focusing on those which could be easily misconstrued as seduction while said in complete innocence. Then, reminding himself that he was, in fact, gay, the young man decided to help his friend get through a difficult bout of Crone's disease.
Having these medical experiences awoke the young man's sensibilities, and he decided that it was high time that he start producing little versions of himself. In short order, a new baby was born--messily--and the young man cleaned it up and noted how intensely, intensely hungry it was. He further reflected how much this intense hunger would have frightened his irredeemably moral, former girlfriend.
The young man demonstrated his supreme dedication to family life by dropping his new baby in favor of journeying to a far-off land to slay a sarcastic monster. Once there, however, he fell in love with a milkmaid and nearly killed her in trying to woo her. Driven to deep depression, he kissed a suicide victim and then nearly committed suicide himself. Scared by these disasters, he started into a series of highly volatile dating experiences, each one demonstrating how pathetic and yet clever he was. He reached his limit when a girl shot him because he didn't like her dress, and declared that he would never date again--at least, not for three months. A run-in with Death, however, got him thinking about mortality, and he was seduced in short order by a devil and then a witch, remembering too late that he was, in fact, gay.
And that, really, it was all his father's fault.
THE END
Once upon a time, there was a young man who was very, very angry with his father. No, he was not just a little angry, as heroes in stories so often are, but very, very, very angry--so angry, in fact, that he was gay--or perhaps he only had a friend who was gay--but in any case, he or his friend very much enjoyed staring at the slowly revealed backflesh of his scout leader. And this was all, of course, because he was angry at his father (well, everyone, really). Which was unusual, because he was a test tube baby. This caused him to cry a lot (the father anger thing, not the test tube or gay thing), which demonstrated that he was black.
Now, this young man did a lot of sitting in gardens with snow on his lap, contemplating the order of the universe. At times, he was even uncertain as to whether he was himself, or whether he was a bunch of abstract stripes. The only time he could really be certain of himself was when he felt up his own scapula, or flew around on his wings--which strangely never seemed to work quite right. Sometimes, he worried because he was balding, but when he saw his shining (0ne might even say lambent) face in the mirror, he felt better.
This young man seemed to be mostly a bit player in other people's lives. He had a girlfriend that was a bit difficult to understand, as she would announce, variously, that she was a Wholly Moral Person (this was new, when she brought it up), and that she was morally irredeemable. Fortunately, not being religious himself, he passed no judgment upon her, and was even able to steeple his fingers and look at her over his glasses from time to time, spouting sporadic wisdom and semiotics.
Deciding to get himself another girlfriend, the young man moved to another city and messed up his apartment, certain that this was the way to seduce the purple-glassied women he ran into frequently. To his surprise, his foul-mouthed, foul-minded, and fowl-eating ex-wife appeared, determined to ruin his every chance for happiness. Eventually, her tactics prevailed, and he ran from her, uncertain whether he was in the present or the past. So confused he was that got a side job interviewing men who were incongruously gay, or gaily incongruous--he could never be sure. So affecting was the experience that, forever afterward, whenever he thought something was funny, he would chortle: "Byuck, byuck, byuck."
Around this time, a phone call from his mother reminded him that he was, in fact, in the family of Emily Post. This was remarkable, and he remarked upon it.
Having thus clarified things, the young man began to have vivid waking dreams in which he stalked a young woman and discovered magazines of salacious and Karen-Carpenter-loving material in his car. Transferring some of his rage to his mother, the young man declared that he would no longer be trapped by linear time and then went out to throw a baseball around with his friend.
Having thus declared his independence, he decided to retreat to English Austenian time and spout various witty archaisms, focusing on those which could be easily misconstrued as seduction while said in complete innocence. Then, reminding himself that he was, in fact, gay, the young man decided to help his friend get through a difficult bout of Crone's disease.
Having these medical experiences awoke the young man's sensibilities, and he decided that it was high time that he start producing little versions of himself. In short order, a new baby was born--messily--and the young man cleaned it up and noted how intensely, intensely hungry it was. He further reflected how much this intense hunger would have frightened his irredeemably moral, former girlfriend.
The young man demonstrated his supreme dedication to family life by dropping his new baby in favor of journeying to a far-off land to slay a sarcastic monster. Once there, however, he fell in love with a milkmaid and nearly killed her in trying to woo her. Driven to deep depression, he kissed a suicide victim and then nearly committed suicide himself. Scared by these disasters, he started into a series of highly volatile dating experiences, each one demonstrating how pathetic and yet clever he was. He reached his limit when a girl shot him because he didn't like her dress, and declared that he would never date again--at least, not for three months. A run-in with Death, however, got him thinking about mortality, and he was seduced in short order by a devil and then a witch, remembering too late that he was, in fact, gay.
And that, really, it was all his father's fault.
THE END
posted by Tolkien Boy at 10/16/2006 01:43:00 PM
3 Comments:
Wow. Deep. It's like I'm reading about my own life. Except I'm pretty sure the girl didn't shoot me; she just bumped me with her car.
Oh, and I would like to point out that Rick was very, very, very, very angry with his stepfather-uncle, not his father. There is a difference, though not genetically speaking.
.
Sometimes, I think, by leaving when I did, I have condemned myself to being misunderstood.
For heavens sakes, I'm not "gay"--merely well-disposed to you all.
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