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The Borovkoff Blog

Neo-Pagan Modern Thoughts On Society

The art of deflection and illusion culminates in the fine skill of homophobia.


The golden question is Can you be Gay and Homophobic?

In recent times we have seen that the biggest and most active homophobic hate mongers have been the ones that are later arrested while tapping their foot urgently next to the urinal in the mens room. But what does this mean? Why all of the hate? Shouldn’t the culprit just be focused on finding love (or love for the moment) outside of the restroom? or even becoming a respectable Gay addict and tramping it in the myriad clubs and bars offered in any city?

Our society has been built blood soaked stone by blood soaked stone on the premise that there is only one way to fornicate and that is via the male to female connection. We have had it beat into us from the time we were youngsters and many of us only found the ability to “experiment” once we reached college and were distant from our dominant parents, the local church, with a  shot in one hand and a lip sticked soaked cigarette in the other.  And a few of us are lucky enough to have parents that actually do not try to mold us in their holy likeness but allow us to evolve as free thinking beings on our own. Imagine that premise!

But for the vast majority of males over the age of 40, it is a rare thing to have parents that even can say the word “Gay” without wanting to wash their own mouth out with soap and retreat to the dark confines of a confessional (ironically a lot closer to the Gay men they are frightened of in the first place). And with masses of our flag worshipping population over the age of 50 now, makes for a lot of potentially bad dressed drag queens.

For these older “closeted” men, the wold of hiding and illusion has been a severe way of life and one that most have become very adept at playing on all around them. This generation of men are used to creeping around in the wet grass of a moonlit park looking for others of like mind. They have been gifted with the uncanny ability to marry, have children, run the cub scouts and yet order their male porn magazines to be delivered to their secret post office box across town. They understand that their frustrated wife will take her sleeping pills then hit the pillow and be dead to the fact that her beloved husband is sneaking out the side garage door and going down to the nearest crusing spot to “experiment” with their secret grunting male libido.  The great farce, dubbed by many as “the down low” is an art form that can only succeed and be believable to all around them by accomplishing two extra credit activities: voting Republican and learning the skills of self-loathing homophobia.

The art of deflection and illusion culminates in the fine skill of homophobia. Many young boys growing up learned that if a big bully blocked their path to the library and the latest version of the Chronicles of Narnia, all they had to do was act super irate, manically crazy, puff out their chest like a rabid elephant and take the offense action. This often resulted in the bully turning tail and running away while spewing insults backwards over their shoulder.  Hence the art of deflective illusion. Learned early and perfected through all of corporate America.

Why this strategy of deflective illusiion usually ends in disaster is shown in the several examples here. Congressmen that time and again vote Nay for all Gay rights bills, implement silly policies like “Don’t ask, Don’t tell”, and are then arrested for soliciting sexual favors from under cover cops only a tap tap stall away. Or madly drunk, speeding state representatives with a long voting history of homophobic actions and many hours volunteering to pass Prop 8, only to be pulled over by an unsuspecting policeman, then breaking into politcally induced tears while confessing his love for the local Gay club’s celebrity go-go-boy, while a little stream of X trickles out and down the side of his flashy convertible. Or how about the classic Ben Hur type Hollywood actor, avidly supporting an arms carrying, god fearing, homo hating population while walking down Sunset Blvd in the wee hours of the morning with the tightest of tight white jeans (even at his age!). And of course, don’t forget the celebrity vocal judge who primps in front of the largest mirror possible ensuring that his skin tight shirt shows “just enough” chest, then parades on stage oogling at large breasted contestants trying to belt out a Judy Garland tune, while thinking to himself “Nobody would even think that I was Gay! Even though I know I could sing that song in heels and Daisy Dukes “Way Better!”

Life is too short for shannanigans and charades! Come out, come out whoever you are! Embrace yourself and stop helping to spread self hatred among your own Emerald city dwelling family. Besides, nobody really cares what you do in your own bedroom, except maybe some sick cult of bible thumping, funeral crashing idiots. And their opinion really doesn’t matter anyway!

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