Friday 16 October 2009

FAG FASCISM

HETEROPHOBES ON THE MARCH, AGAIN.

BUY THIS TEA, I DON'T.

Steven Fry of Tesco and Direct Line and Twinings Tea is an obnoxious bully who enchants his limited, grubby audience with tales of sodomy, paedophilia and gay blowjobs; just, next time he's on, count the seconds until he, chucklingly, alludes to one or other or all of them.

Fry is famous, also, for being such a poor proper actor that at his first stage gig he ran away, crying, like the lardy Momma's Boy he remains, to the Low Countries. Fry is also famously a sycophant of Charlie Windsor, the celebrated, good for fuck all playboy and Fry's usual TV retinue consists of not very funny comedians such as Sean Locke and the curiously popular choirboy-like, Mr Alan Davies, a producers' favourite little minx, fawning over him, as though he were Royalty, which in a sense he is, the degenerate old queen. The repellent Fat Phil Jupitus and the guy who used to be John Sessions also add a little but not very much to Fry's tedious, know-it-all TV personna. If Fry is a national treasure we really are fucked; such, though, is how the ghastly old Widow Twanky casts himself, teams of researchers trawling through bits of arcane trivia to boost Fry's self-image as polymath extraordinaire and, pathetically, as the Oscar Wilde of our times, or, tellingly, as the shallow, trivial confection which Fry imagines Wilde to be - aren't we sick of TV fags, re-inventing Wilde as some 1890s Lily Savage ?

So vanishingly small are Steve's acting talents that the fat old cunt also self-produces dismal telly dramas starring himself as someone indistinguishable from himself, no need for acting, y'see; Oh, go on Steven, they love to watch you, being witty, even just reading the 'paper, go on, do make another series, as long as you're in it, it can be a load of old shite. And it is.

The BBC was always a license for tyrannical Oxbridgians like the revolting John Cleese and David Frost to print money. Every fucking year they tell us that Monty Python is just the funniest thing ever. And every year, side-splittingly, we agree, differing, obediently, like connoisseurs, only as to whether Dead Parrot or Funny Walks marks the unassailable heights of comedic endeavour, and the royalties keep rolling in the right direction. Every year Oxbridge throws up more tossers like Marcus Bogstick and Sue Dyke-Perkins, like Fry, entitled to a stipend however dull and slow their invention, however feeble their comedic industry, generally little more than a dirty word and a raised eyebrow.

So battered are we by the Establishment Heterophobes that even as we wrinkle our noses in disgust at the old queen, Fry, and his visions of juvenile male fellatio, we hate ourselves for daring to criticise a loathsome, talentless, narcissistic, fat old poof like Elton John
Mr & Mrs Sir Elton John-Dwight, cunts.

and now, when some simpering, whining member of a frighteningly awful so- (and revealingly) called boy-band, some assembly of anxious rentboy wannabees, collated by a gushing, spiteful fag impresario, now, when one of these fallen angel freaks croaks, luxuriating in some holiday shithole, the nation is supposed to be respectfully grief stricken, dragooned by drug addled celebrity tossers into the suspension of all judgement.

"Hail, hail Rock'n'Roll, Kill all the boy bands" would be my cry; stomp their airbrushed, girly faces in the dirt, let them blow their gelled heads off with amyl nitrate, blast their empty, feeble brains with skunkweed, rot their shitty livers with hundred per cent proof cocktails, fill their veins with the best heroin their pimping managers can buy for them, on commission; let them perish in a lengthy daisy chain of unnatural practices and throw them all in a glorious pit of dead celebrities and burn their poxed-up arses and let us all dance around, singing Karma-Karma=Karma-Karma-Karma-Chameleon, You-Come-And-Go-And-Now-You've-Gone. Hallelujah, one of the warbling, whiny, pouty little cocksuckers is dead, roll on the other hundred, or is it a thousand of these wretches which the nations' mums idolise?. And fuck Steven Fry and Darren Brown, whoever the fuck he is. Or she.

There is a fearful, tragic, Sudden Adult Death Syndrome which affects, especially, Irishmen of Steven Gately's age, a sudden, unpredictable heart failure bereaves others less gobby than Gately's fans and co-workers at the coalface of light entertainment and it may have been this complaint which has seen off the wee treasure, Gately and not, as Ms Jan Moir conjectures, the customary cocktail of drugs, self-indulgent stupidity and avoidable mishap of the airhead celebrity of monstroua ego - Hendrix, Joplin, Jones et al - and maybe Gately just did drop dead whilst his partner was in the other room with another young man, maybe in his evening's drinking he had only consumed Ribena, humming, to himself, the 23rd Psalm; maybe God so loved the wee angel that he just, you know, called him Home. But even if that - entirely natural causes - is the case, Elton John and his ghastly boy, Mrs David and Steven Fry and the rest, themselves talentless creations of the Celebrity sausage machine, cannot demand Ms Moir's silence, much less her agreement to the PR statements of Boyzone Inc - isn't it that wretched little turd, Louis-something, whose investment is being protected here ? - cannot insist upon a national airbrushing of a dead celebrity tosser. Sorry, great, great man.

Moir is perfectly entitled to differ from others, perfectly at liberty, indeed, it is her job to question the orthodoxy, she said nothing which Fleet Street doesn't say several times daily and the bullyboys of FagsRUS need a good straight punch in the mouth for trying to strangle her, merely, one suspects, for not being an unquestioning faghag.

Strident queers have long begged to be treated just the same as others, strange, isn't it, how when they are, as in this case - a dead celebrity getting the tabloid treatment - they cry Hatecrime, when, without their hysteria, this, Jan Moir, entertaining HER audienc, would just be showbiz gossip, my dear. Fry is a nasty nazi. If you see him, kick him hello from me. Hard.

"....a nobody, working on a programme that nobody watches...".

63 comments:

The Dyer's Garden said...

Striking, isn't it, what a grotesque caricature the modern public image of Oscar Wilde is? Somehow I doubt Fry could even begin to understand why "a sentimentalist is one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it", or that "one must have a heart of stone to read the death of Little Nell without laughing".

call me ishmael said...

Aye, striking. Or anything from de profundis, which, being a retraction of sorts, or a memoir of regret, is among his most moving blog posts - but unlikely to excite the facetious.

Giles Brandreth, former MP and former Rantzenoid, writes detective novels featuring Wilde; not as head-spinningly banal as the ghastly Fry but not far off; somehow, in the nineteen-eighties, Oscar was colonised by the glib, showy, wise-crackers of what we must call popular culture, all forlornly imaging themselves his heir.

lilith said...

Jan Moir may be entitled, but I don't have to like it.

lilith said...

People should leave Oscar Wilde alone.

Verge said...

Did you see what the cunt came out with last week about Poland? "blahblahblah suffer the little bumchums to come unto moi...and remember which side of the border Auschwitz was on."

Unspeakable fistula that he is.

call me ishmael said...

People should leave Oscar Wilde alone.

I think that's what we're saying, me and Mr TDG.

I detest Ms Moir's writing, incidentally, Lilith, always have, at the Telegraph, at the Guardian, wherever she has plied her trade but I think this orchestrated outburst is worse than the apparent sin it seeks to condemn. LUvviedom, especiaslly the Westminster end of it, would love to put her speculations off limits, Fry the fat end of the thin end of the censor's wedge,

Didya hear Mrs Sir Elton ?

Agatha said...

"Jan Moir may be entitled, but I don't have to like it."- Lilith

I hadn't come across Jan Moir's piece until I read Ishmael's post, not taking much of an interest in the press, but, having now read it, I thought it balanced and sensible. I should be surprised by the nonsense it appears to have whipped up - however, the over sexualised and decadent society in which we live has inured us to the rants of those who would want to force the view that everyone is perfectly entitled to do whatever they want, however risky, and that when things go wrong, it is a tragedy, rather than the inevitable consequence of completely failing to undertake a risk assessment. And that's leaving conventional morality out of it.

call me ishmael said...

And she didn't, mr killemall, that's the thing, she merely pointed out that, actuarily speaking, the odds of this guy's death being from natural causes were remote - "that everyone is perfectly entitled to do whatever they want, however risky," is ms agatha's obsrvation of the world inhabited by the late Mr Gately, be he gay or not; that Moir must not even suggest such is the burden of Fry's complaint, of David Furnish's kept-woman outburst. Are there no men left in showbusiness, no elders?

lilith said...

Fuck me, Stephen Fry gets on my tits too, but leave the poor Gately family to deal for five minutes, eh, Agatha? Many Gay men just behave as many Straight men would if they could get away with it with women. Which is one perfectly understandable reason that some straight men despise gay men. Same goes for Lesbians. We are all bloody human, no? With people that think we matter, even if a one night stand with a gorgeous bulgarian happens to coincide with our untimely death? I'm no swinger, but swinging has a huge heterosexual following. Somebody even loves that Tony McNulty bloke.

Cheeky Chappie said...

Benny Hill,Graham Norton. Both bawdy acts full of double entrende. One taken off air,the other takes off.

Anonymous said...

I understand the queer old dean Fry is writing the screenplay for the remake of the film Dambusters (no don't laugh) Guy Gibson had a dog called Nigger a black Labrodor.
The rights and wrong of the mission are neither here nor there as that was then and this is now but I have read that this gutless ponce is calling the dog "Nigsy" how about that for rewriting history?
This twat was stuck in a lift in a lift a while ago, pity the poor sods stuck there with him and he Twittered "Widdle bum and pooh" I for one can't wait to see the film and the cockpit converstaions of these brave men according to Fry.

richard said...

i don't like woofters generally, at least not the mincers, and the man Fry is obnoxious but he, ah, twat though he is, ah ... was quite good as Jeeves.

Anonymous said...

Fry's Five Centres:

centre of attention;
centre-stage;
centre of the arty farty intelligentsia;
centre of the left-footers' choir of oddly-shaped angels, and
centre of the cross-hairs.

Eat and enjoy.

woman on a raft said...

This is what happens if you leave public grief to happenstance. Probably the wrong person dies, then somebody will write something tactless, failing to realize that one is supposed to be turning out valedictory merginues at that point. The public are very fond of these since you-know-who died. It's amazing the obit writers manage to write as candidly as they do.

What we need is a properly organized pro/celebrity mourning protocol with scheduled liquidations. C'mon people, it's 2009. We shouldn't be leaving these things to chance.

Anonymous said...

Lilith: "Many Gay men just behave as many Straight men would if they could get away with it with women."

Indeed? As feminists used to remind us with tedious regularity and unashamed lack of imagination: 'All men are potential rapists.'

Odd thing was: not too many of those women got raped.

call me ishmael said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
lilith said...

Oh, Edgar. I am sure that you know randy non monogamous males that aren't rapists. Or used to in your thirties.

lilith said...

Edgar said "Odd thing was: not too many of those women got raped."

You sound a little disappointed.

Swiss Bob said...

You forgot that ghastly little shit Russell Howard, who along with Brigstock is a one of the new generation of unfunny comedians.

Dick the Prick said...

Russel Howard....bleeuurrr....Jeremy Hardy

Elby the Beserk said...

Nil nisi bonum de mortuis dicere is my take on this.

The Dyer's Garden said...

"Many Gay men just behave as many Straight men would if they could get away with it with women. Which is one perfectly understandable reason that some straight men despise gay men."

Perhaps it is so. But it may also be the converse. The chief objection to homosexuality is not what two men decide to do with each other (which no one should give a fig about) but the model of sexual relations, inevitably transposed into the heterosexual domain, that it promotes. This is why it is the promotion of homosexuality rather than the predilection itself that people tend to object to. Of course, it may be that we should all give in to voracious promiscuity, gay or straight, but few (women) will emerge from that smiling.

lilith said...

TDG mentions

"...but the model of sexual relations, inevitably transposed into the heterosexual domain, that it promotes."

Ahh, so all that arse fucking that young men try to get their young women to "enjoy" is the consequences of the promotion of homosexual practices..and there I was thinking it was straight porn selling it to them, or simply their own inherent desires to dominate their womenfolk.

It is true that the only man who tried to promote homosexual practices to me was straight. I will give you that.

lilith said...

Meanwhile, in South London, it has all gone too far!

The Dyer's Garden said...

I am not talking about the trivial physical technicalities but the model of personal relations. That men *generally* tend to promiscuity is indicated by what happens when women are removed from the equation. So when you let it freewheel in one domain, it will end up influencing the other.

You may of course have read your Foucault and Gramsci and Kristeva etc, and like to think that gays are, along with women, victims of a hegemony of male heterosexuality, that all human relations are at their root a matter of power, and that life is all about who is the fucker and who the fuckee. It is one way to live, I suppose.

PT Barnum said...

I find it most interesting that this post, Mr Ishmael, has attracted more comments than other I have ever seen here, and all quibbling over which end to open. It would seem to be true that all politics have been reduced to identity politics (sex, race, et al), where people feel wholly competent to speak and know precisely how the world should be.

As much energy expended on war or corruption in the electoral system would be a welcome sight. But that would require more than merely speaking on behalf of one's genitals.

lilith said...

TDG, Speaking on behalf of my genitals, I cannot agree that the physical technicalities are trivial. I agree that (on the (w)hole) men without women are a freaky bunch.

I have indeed read my Foucault etc, but not since I read my Dworkin so it has to be 25 years if it's a day and too much real life has ensued in the intervening years. If I have learned anything since it is certainly that intellectualising human relations at the expense of actual personal experience is a road to nowhere. For example, not all men are bastards :-)

Verge said...

Dear Ms Lilith..."there I was thinking it was straight porn selling it to them"

Quite. As Martin Amis has one of his pornbiz characters put it in "Yellow Dog" (a mutt's takeaway of a novel but nonetheless scattered with some of his funniest set-pieces) "pussies are bullshit." What I'd like to know is which came first, the mainstreaming of heterosexual sodomy or the "what can we try next" depravity of 70's rock stars (Jim Morrison, Led Zep, so forth, all banging on about backdoor banging; did they wanna be your backdoor man because they'd seen it in a fleapit fuckflick, or did the valley muff moguls start casting for sigmoid gymnasts because of their daily dose of shitkicking rock&roll?)

Incidentally "backdoor man" meant simply a furtive (musician-type, no daily grind to shoulder, free to chase spoke-for skirt) lover (coming and going through the back door in hope of not getting caught) in oldschool Delta Blues lyrics.

lilith said...

Mr Verge asked "What I'd like to know is which came first...?"

There was me wondering if it was a backlash to Lipstick Lesbianism? Perhaps it will all become clear but I suspect that it has nothing to do with the promotion of homosexuality and everything to do with getting everyone used to authoritarianism.

It is true that fashion designers want to dress pre-pubescent boys, not women, and that the "music" industry is run by a gay mafia, but even so....

I wonder if Stephen Fry hates himself, because he is fat and smart and irritating (but not too smart,) and not because he is gay.

The Dyer's Garden said...

The anthropology of heterosexual sodomy is interesting. For the easy girls, it is the only virginity they have left by the time they are in their twenties, for the difficult it is the closest to sex they can get while technically remaining virgins.

call me ishmael said...

Part 1

Gosh, it sure beats reading the Observer, where Charlie Brooker, the man who boldly does bleeped swearing on a TV show about TV is whipping-up a storm of righteous something or other among those who believe what their betters - Fry and Brooker - tell them they believe, it is truly dismal, what Arsebridger has done to the Observer-Guardian, never mind, it's just the antique press.

On the oscillating topic here, I am reminded, quite appositely in this case, how quickly the news caravan moves on. It's not so long since people like me were thinking poisonous thoughts about the tattooed woman who left her fifteen-year old to the mercies of the beach rapists in Goa or some such barbarian shithole and then, to vindicate herself, vitiate her cow-stupidity, sought to play Poirot to the Indian's Japp, as though the jailing of some bum would bring her daughter back, undoing the mother's fuckwitted stupidity, rather like the McCanns, the criminally negligent as detective, fuck me, you'd laugh if you weren't crying. There are no buts here, better parenting and the kid woulda been alive still.

call me ishmael said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
call me ishmael said...

Part 2

My comment here has been a plea for a restoration of the idea of elders reading the riot act to the younger, never mind telling them, narcissistically, how wonderful they are, and this basically, was what Moir was doing; multiple partners in anal sex is a risky business, it was before AIDS, now it is significantly moreso, this is a fact, not a slander, borne out by sexual health study after sexual health study since the mid 1980s. And the borderlines of sexual activity being vague what may be seen as mutual self-destructiveness among some, swiftly has consequences for those, by their own lights, strictly heterosexual. Bleat as they might of their normality, Elton John and his mate promote a bizarre, anti-social and destrucrive set of behaviours and there is no-one alive can tell me differently, here or at the Guardian. Heterosexual promiscuity is bad enough, in heakth terms, gay promiscuity is dynamite and shoukld be discouraged not extended.

Peter Tatchell is in many ways the most admirable of political activists, courageous and consistent, yet much as I admire his courage I feel he is monumentally wrong-headed in calling for "young gay men of eleven and twelve" to be exposed to sexual penetration by the likes of Fry. Make no mistake, this is the agenda of many gay rights activists, that what we would now reasonably describe as paedophilie be legalised. THis does not make me in any way phobic, much less in a way ill-described by a made-up, meaningless word, coined by clumsy, illiterate thinkers who, NewLabouresque, would dominate our every thought with their nasty fascism; the very idea of homophobia requires a brief and cruel dressing-down from one more patient than I, Mr TDG, perhaps.

Among several branches of scholarship, there is a strand of self-determinism here, in this thread and though I see Mr PTB's point, I don't think the discourse is entirely concerned with the intimacy of orifice but falls between Lilth's later and perhaps reluctant observation that this furore is about authoritarianism and not human rights and agatha's humane and sensible pragmatism in the proscription of dangerous behaviours - that left to their own devices people will fuck up.

On the face of it, Gately's death is of no special concern to any save those bereaved. But before the Moir piece, this weedy and not very brave young man was being hailed, by InfoCorp, as a Great Man, probably to sell product to the tone-deaf but also to normalise the abnormal. That the pop game is run by a gay mafia should be well-known but any in doubt might read Simon Napier-Bell's, Black Vinyl, White Powders; of course Gately's death was spun by Tin Pan Alley, or wherever these vampires now congregate. Gately wsa not an icon of Gaylib but a frightened young man who, like so many, Charlie Kennedy, for instance, made a clean breast only five minutes before he was outed and then claimed credit for his honesty in coming clean, as though his action was principled rather than desperate. Kennedy duped only the voters, the whole sickening Boyzone trip, like Wham, was aimed at deceiving hormone-crazed teenage girls into parting with their pocket money, as grubby a showbiz hype as you could imagine, that is has been pulled since the days of Fabian makes it no less ignoble, counterfeit, worthless and despicable.

Thanks all for their views, I remain convinced that in a sphere far wider than that of this showbiz jamboree, ordinary people - not the kind to Twitter or blog - have seen their very genuine concerns about Ruin ventilated, at least, by the admittedly unlikely Ms Moir. All that is gay is not necessarily a delight, all that glisters is not gold.

stephen stir-fly: a partly political advertisement on behalf of my-sold-out-self said...

at tesco's we do not discriminate against our customers on the grounds of race, religion or sexuality - indeed, at some specially selected stores, such as the morning lane supermarket in hackney, we have even gone to the trouble of organizing free-to-nibble shopping-schemes for rodents (brown, white, christian, muslim, jewish, straight and gay ones all welcome), an inclusive policy which has proved extremely popular with young (boy) children. we do, however, draw the line at illegal immigrants and have offered to assist the government in its quest to identify and catch as many of the little buggers as possible - paperless people should realize that their place is not in a tesco's superstore, but in the fields, picking our produce for peanuts.

call me ishmael said...

Dear Mr verge

A man, like you, steeped and simmered and shriven in the dark gospels of the Delta blues should not, should he, write Rock'n'Roll with an ampersand, should he ?

C'mon now, play the white man.

teenage mutant queer-basher said...

great post mr ishmael, i went straight out and kicked a poof to death in trafalgar square.

call me ishmael said...

Just as long as it makes you happy, son.

Verge said...

Dear Mr Ish, probably not but it does have an amp in it, so maybe that's what was moving my fingers at the time.

Gately, poor bastard, buried no black cat bone at the crossroads. Not in this life at least.

Anonymous said...

Your bit about the tattooed slag in Goa missed the bit about men there and in Asia generally.Boys are brought up to do more or less what they want girls are not When boys become men they can't get used to the word no being said to them. Many women try to do what they do in the UK but when push comes to shove, shove becomes rape ot murder take a look at the amount of young women coming to grief here in Thailand and as sometimes the police are the killers here not a lot of effort is put into the investigation.
By the way I think its disgusting of Fry to call Guy Gibsons dog "Nigsy".

call me ishmael said...

And that's another thing, the blanket of grandeur in which this pap is wrapped.Boyzone, fucking rubbish.

david miliband, mi5: advocate of free-speech said...

wow! blogging at its socially conscious best! in what other country can the intelligentsia examine each other's rectums with such impunity!

we, in the british government, are also committed to freeing people's tongues - but, alas, our results have not been particularly encouraging, as we have not yet perfected our techniques.

call me ishmael said...

Thanks, mr anonymous, I didn't know that but it gells with some observed Uk traits. I worked once with the most charming man, a Sikh, he had just done a very short life sentence, six years, for killing his daughter, some honour thing, or disobedience and yet, on license he was very genuinely active in his community in trying to calm noisy youth and inculcate good behaviour. The home office - which, God knows, doesn't free people lightly, felt that he no longer posed a threat and that life license was the best option, that his killing of his daughter was part of his social conditioning, not as blameworthy as if I had killed mine. I think they were probably right.

Anyway, all the more reason for that woman to have taken proper care of her children while travelling abroad; easy to judge, I know, but this Rabelaisian approach to life which we have, most of us, at times promoted, really is a a pot pourri of mishap, grief and sorrow.

call me ishmael said...

I don't believe there's any intelligentsia here, mr milliband, at least I hope not; I think you need the PizzaHouseOfBlood for that sort of thing.

elton said...

shit! i'll sue your arse, ishmael! i am a very talented man. i can do wonders with a worn out old tune, 50 metres of ermine, a magnum of vintage champagne, a dead princess, and a clutch of peacock-feathers. just ask my missus.

call me ishmael said...

I wouldn't go near your mrs, not with a barge pole.

elton's missus said...

01:34

that's right elton darling - but if memory serves...didn't we also employ the services of the massed bands of the household cavalry and their big shiny instruments?

Elby the Beserk said...

I do think the 'N' in Rock 'n Roll indicates that it is Rock 'n Roll, not Rock & Roll.

Says this old rock 'n roller, who finds the current obsession with anal sex bizarre in the extreme. Apparently it us all over the television these days as well.

call me ishmael said...

No true rock'n'roller would know where an ampersand was to be found and Mr verge is duly compromised, although we must, as he claims, give him the benefit of the ramblin' mind doubt.

I don't know either, mr elby, maybe, in itself, it is something noble, about breaking a taboo; largely it is none of my business what people do, you know, one man's ceiling is another man's floor but I do resent the conflation of the unnatural with the natural by people like Fry, almost as much as I would resent being called straight, with its implied acceptance of gay and straight being yin and yang. Normal, rather than straight, would be my chosen appelation, on the inventive end of normal, lyrical, even.

Elby the Beserk said...

Quite so, Ishmael, on all points. And conflation is exactly the right word for what you describe. "Straight", of course, when this juvenile rock 'n/& (delete as applicable) roller became a hippy meant "not being a hippy"; or "not a spliff".

Language eh? What a palaver.

Verge said...

Many thanks for the doubtful indulgence - if I could be arsed with the deed-poll palaver I'd make aporia my middle name.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, it is a palaver and that is why many, like Mr TDG and the late Mr Dennis the cruel bell-ringing hunchback, argue so forcefully for precision; I don't always, or entirely agree with them but this gay-straight thing is an example of the language being colonised by neuro-linguistic programmers, working for all sorts of enemies within, notably the NewLabour cabal. We should revisit NLP.

21,000 complaints now lie in the cyber bosom of the PCC. That's about 60.99 million have defied the heterophobes; a crushing victory for common sense over spiteful hysteria although there are some who argue that most of the whole sixty-one million of us are homosexual but in denial.

call me ishmael said...

Aporia, My Middle Name or A Boy Named Aporia, you must write the book, or a talking blues at the very least.

Caractacus said...

Personally, I dislike the term, 'my partner'.

What's that all about?

call me ishmael said...

Yes, it is out of deference to those too leary to wed and in contempt of the public avowals of commitment made by those who have. I fucking hate it.

Spares the feelings of those whose proper, accurate and hitherto - for centuries - perfectly acceptable station is wife or husband in common law.

lilith said...

Caractacus, dislike of the term "partner" is the main reason I am getting married. It makes me think of dusty lawyer's offices. "Life partner" is queasy making. "Boyfriend" isn't right either, given his proximity to a free bus pass. "Companion" is ok but conjures up old ladies' and their pooches.

call me ishmael said...

It was always ok for those not officially married to describe each other as husband and wife, it is only recently, in the spirit of levelling-down, that the preferred, non-judgemental terminology of partner has replaced the common-law useage of wife and husband - med: housebondsman, the man who pays for the house.

This partner shit has been an impudence of the heterophobes and has been applied to the married as well as the simply co-habiting. Marriage, they imply, the love that dare not speak its name.

"...dislike of the term "partner" is the main reason I am getting married." will be an unconscious calumny on the attractions and charms of mr elby, I am sure, but vividly illustrates the difference in states and the legitimate supremacy of the one over the other.

What sort of liberalism is it which denies people living together as husband and wife the right to so describe themselves, insisting, instead, as Lilith says, upon the terminology of trade, rather than love? Up against the wall, motherfuckers.

Verge said...

I did write something called "The Missing Gist" once upon a time; this was during an uncompromising surrealist phase and I dare not re-open that drawer for the time being.

A book would be a bit of a stretch (NB M. G Perec - fascinating and brilliant but bloody hard to read.)Maybe a sonnet sequence; failing that a goldfish.

Anonymous said...

Partners? Don't have one you will go blind looking at them. Oh I see as in my better half and me the only parterners I had in mind was business partners. Well my wife and I have been together many years but now because or the Thai authorities hatred of anyone and anything not Thai we are getting married. I am not sure how a bit of paper from the local town hall will make us any different but look on the bright side she will no longer be my fucking "partner" but my wife and I have the bit of paper to prove it.

mongoose said...

WOAR... "What we need is a properly organized pro/celebrity mourning protocol with scheduled liquidations. C'mon people, it's 2009. We shouldn't be leaving these things to chance."

On the spot as ever. Quite so, WOAR, ma'am, I'd hate to leave my children crying.

Anonymous said...

Actor Stephen Fry, who also suffers from bipolar disorder,"
From the BBC world service web site so irs a medical condition he has to piss me off. Luvvy.

call me ishmael said...

Will there come a time, soon, whne any kind of bad behavious will have a medical origin and excuse ? Forgive me murdering all these Jews, your honour, it's because I'm autistic.

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Anonymous said...

LOL You are raggin on about how gay He is and believe me You're the ones sounding like faggots...