Thursday 8 January 2015

THE UNQUEERING OF BRITAIN.

I always kinda liked queers, before gay came, screeching and demanding and preaching and correcting.
 It was most unfashionable so to do but they were outsiders, queers, like me. And anyone whom Sergeant Filth entrapped and beat-up was a friend of mine. 

 I always shrank, still do, from acts of homosexuality and in that I include the activities of the Premiership gangrapers - this revolting,  spit-roasting stuff, isn't it just two men fucking each other via a drunken young woman? Turns my stomach, I'm afraid, the thought of it.  But there are also practices, hobbies, customs and vices deemed heterosexual which also revolt me. Hard, being a Zen-Presbyterian-Marxist, a non-judgemental, judgemental dialecticist.

I was always able to distance  queer men from what they did amongst themselves,  to be rightly indifferent to it, it was none of my business but that is no longer possible.  I am compelled, now,  to consider normal  and applaud arse-fisting, butt-plugging, sperm-swapping,  anal penetration, gang-banging and God alone knows what else,  I hate to think what bizarre orgiastic humiliations are now normal amongst the NewPeople - normal, even though many such diversions are only now possible as a result of massive, massive investment  in and research into pharmaceuticals; heterosexuality never needed such retro-viral enabling.

 Now, unless I cheer each and every doomed and preposterous same-sex wedding, prostrate myself before bogus Progress, I am outcast, unclean, cleaving to  an anachronistic world view, enmeshed in those taboos which have brought us here.


But I am a creature of reason, too, considerate of the Other, the malcontent, without whom we would still be swimming in the sea and I remember being perversely cheered, in the 'eighties, hearing a young New York gay man spluttering that he hadn't come-out just to become a sexually cautious WASP, settle down and pretend to have children;  clubbing and bath-housing, fisting and fucking strangers,  he was going to do it 'til he dropped.  Freddie Mercury, too, was one of those,


fucking and sucking  anything in leather, darling, with gay abandon nouvelle.  I sort of admired him for his recklessness, if not for his noisy, bombastic music.  I used to be God's own brinkman, myself - if there was a railway platform I would stand right up close  on the edge; if there was a speed limit I would break it; if there was a drug I would overdose it, a drink and I would mix it with another, the more dangerous the cocktail, the better; if there was a crash helmet, I would discard it,  a safety belt and I would not wear it;  if there was a dangerous situation, I would stride into the middle of it; it ill-behoves me to damn homosexual promiscuity. What I object to is its normalisation, what I object to is gays demanding the right to be straight. Fuck that.

Steven Fry, anyway, and this poor, stupid, little  wretch,


one is quite lost for words.
 It is not the sexual activity, if there is any, which distresses me, it is the age and wealth discordance, which I find so shocking. Is this Woody Allenism, Jeffrey Epsteinism, George Clooneyism  or is homosexual abuse of power different, beautiful and OK?  Is an old, bloated,  gay man, vampiring on hapless youth something we must now treasure and celebrate, for fear of offeding those who once insisted that multi-culturalism was the one, true faith but  who now re-target their vengeful, I-Know-Best stupidity and defy us to so much as query homosexual marriage?


 Steve, shopping with an ex.
I don't know about the current  boy or his gobby, overjoyed, soon-to-be father-in-law Dad, who, crowing his delight,  seriously needs a quick rub-down with a housebrick but Fry is repulsive, cowardly, smutty, his meagre talents vastly over-estimated by his handlers; he can't sing, dance, paint or write; his artistry is confined to trading wordy arse, knob and sperm jokes with the cleverfolk of showbusiness;

Fry, with a quartet of knob-jokers.

an older, fatter, better-spoken version of Jonafun Woss,  Stevie  is a creature of the Gay-Lesbian-Zionist-Fascists  at the Paedophiles Broadcasting Corporation. Like so many Oxbridge boys Stevie wandered into the PBC at exactly the right time, as Gay-lib and -pride barged their way centre-stage, where they have remained.

mr sg, earlier, is mistaken, therefore, to complain of a current PBC gay agenda, that battle is long won. Showbusiness is run by and largely for gay people and their chums.  

The pop managers of our youth were all gay, their boys happy to be groomed and dressed for stardom;  Epstein with the Beatles, 

gays were good for business, 
boasted Sir Paul, foot-in-mouth, they booked us; 

Larry Parnes with a whole posse of working class,  starstruck, narcissistic, young fairies, 
 
all happy to be re-named by him - Billy Fury, Vince Eager, Dickie Pride;  
Kit Lambert and the perpetually adolescent Pete Townshend,
 
 of the 'Oo,  
singing, in his seventies,
 
 songs of boys, I'm a Boy, Pictures of Lily, My Generation,  songs of a deaf, dumb and blind boy, quadrophenic songs of a Mod scooterboy; serious art, he calls it, Pete, all his angry boy songs. Bless.

 There was Andrew Loog Oldham who managed the Rolling Stones and inspired Mick Jagger's androgynous, hand-fluttering camping; 

 Simon Napier-Bell and 
 
Wham! 
 
 Young parent, Reg Dwight and John Reid.

 And lest we forget, the greatest Svengali of them all....

  
 That boy, ooh-ooh-ooh, 
Isn't good for you-ooh ....

 Mick an' Keef an' Brian an' Jimmy
Sympathy, for the Devil.

 Bachelor boys.

In his excellent book, Black Vinyl and White Powders, Napier-Bell reveals the  extent of gay influence over decades of pop music; he knows absolutely nothing about music but is a uniquely insightful gossip and a more than capable writer. It is the dark symbiosis - between unwordly working class boys and sophisticated,  queenly hustlers - which is so revealing. And if Napier-Bell were to compile an equally hissy book spanning the whole of the arty BBC it would, I am sure, be dynamite.

One would expect, after all these years of showbusiness, that complete Indifference would be the proper,  the ideal, the correct position among those who are not homosexual but one could not be more wrong. One is required to  prove, by public proclamation, a negative - that one is not a gaybasher, even if, as in my case, one opposed gaybashing when even gay people supported it.  
The revolting Straight Simon Hughes's infamous queerbashing of Peter Tatchell. Liberal Democrats, a byword for filth and hypocrisy, bullying,  cheating and pederasty. Who the fuck votes for them?

There is nothing new under the Sun and with homosexuality it has always been the common, the ordinary man who gets jailed, beaten, blackmailed and imprisoned. There is less of that, now, and what there is does not require, for its remedy, the dismantling of Decency, of Modesty and the corruption of children in the name of Freedom.

It is Fry's world; his idol, the repulsive Steve Jobs, together with Microsoft and the rest, have delivered into the hands of children and infants a swampy cornucopia of not just erotica, not just pornography but bestial perversion, their unformed image-inations  colonised by Filth, landscaped with gaping arseholes, beatings, humiliations, rape, paedophilia, gerontophilia, necrophilia and animal sex. A Fry Universe of witty knobs and scrumptious sperm and riveting rectums and vigourous violence is now available to children, on demand. 

Fry, with his obsessions, licensed by the PBC, is  a big player in mrs woman on a raft's Grooming of the Nation. The fat cunt. 

It would have been better had homosexuals, instead of becoming stridently, viciously, vengefully  gay had remained a little bit queer; what, otherwise, is the point of them?

42 comments:

Bungalow Bill said...

I find Fry intolerable. His facade of intellect (founded mainly on a very good memory) and genial English eccentricity conceals an odious, tetchy bully. There is no liberal piety that he has not chorused, no form of professional gayness that he has not tediously preached upon.

On the wider point, I suspect there are numerous gay people who are also sick of their cheerleaders, and of the presumptuous standardisation of their lives and preferences.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, sorry, of course, there must be, mr bungalow bill, and I meant them no offence or reproof, it is their hijacking and colonisation and misrepresentation which needs damning.

SG said...

"mr sg, earlier, is mistaken, therefore, to complain of a current PBC gay agenda..." I don't recall saying that Mr I but I suppose I must have - somewhere back up the road... However, I agree with what you say here. It seems to me that the gay 'agenda' has become a hegemonic force that has invaded and subverted almost every part of our culture and politics (I don't know to what extent this is true of other countries / cultures). However, and as far as I can recall, people identifying as 'gay' form perhaps only 3 - 5 per cent of the population. How, but perhaps more importantly, why has this happened? The former question is perhaps easier to answer as I suspect that 'gays' have much higher levels of representation in the arts, media and, indeed, politics than in the population as a whole. But I have no inkling of the 'why' - what's driving them?

Mike said...

Mr SG: I lead a sheltered life, but IMHO the gay stuff has not taken over Aussie life to the extent it has in the UK. We do have this annual Gay Parade thing in Sydney which I suspect is tolerated because it brings in plane loads of foreign gays with their dollars - gay cops kissing, and such laughable stuff - which is universally hailed in the media, then forgotten next day.

I do travel frequently in SE Asia. I have the same impression there. Of course Thai ladyboys exist, but I suspect mainly for western tourists.

I may be completely wrong and all this has passed me by, but its not in-yer-face down here, at least not that I've noticed.

call me ishmael said...

Just a day or so back,mr sg - I don't. buy into the gay agenda the media forces upon us - and nor do I; I was just noting that to all practical purposes it has won the battle for hearts and minds, just look at. the ease with which same-sex marriage was enacted.

As for the arts, mr tdg has made the point that Jews have always been conspicuously prominent in both arts and sciences and one might contend that such was due to historical persecution and the same might be argued about gay artists; speaking only for myself, I have always been aware of F Scott FitzGerald's dictum in Tender Is The Night - take me out of my turbulent waters and you extinguish my flame.

I probably won't live to see if universal acceptance neutralises whatever has previously fired gay creativity but it may do.

I wish I could more clearly articulate my thoughts on this subject. It was not anti-racism which bugged me, it was anti-racists and it is not homosexuality which bugs but the ghastly, insatiable proselytizers, I don't know what they want; they strike me as kinsmen to Muslim fundamentalists, in that nothing will do but the complete subjugation of all to their own abnormal belief system, the trashing of the nuclear family, of personal restraint and deferred gratification and an end to tolerance of others' views and traditions, the binning, in short, of all the grown-up stuff, in a world where photographs such as these, here, of Fry, are the norm.

call me ishmael said...

I don't know, either, mr mike, about, a land down under, a traditionally macho culture but there is enough to generate that parade, during which I woukd keep the dogs and children indoors. As for SE Asia, I saw a documentary recently, one of the Indian states was overrun with ladymen prostitutes, serving not tourists but local worthies so the authorities rounded-up hundreds of them and trained them as tax collectors, a job at which they proved very successful, having different powers of persuasion; revenues rocketed and the ladymen were off the streets, saving their wages to soend them on unLadying therapies. It was all frightfully sad as well as utterly bizarre.....

Must stop now, the lights are flickering and the wind howls around the cabin door.

Bungalow Bill said...

The homosexual contribution to art and science is, as you say, very significant. I don't know whether it's disproportionate but I think you have indeed articulated here and in the main post what is so troubling about the proselytising and homogenising of gay culture.

The richness and difficult variety of the gay presence in the world are being relentlessly politicised and made into just another element of our trash society. Dangerous territory this because of course there has been and remains real discrimination and we have to be careful of patronising gay life as a dark., if creative, curiosity. But I think you're importantly correct on this.

Hope the storms have gone.

Doug Shoulders said...

As you succinctly observe and opine Mr Ish…gay bashing is an aberration as is any form of antipathy towards how folks choose to live.
The gay agenda that is now ensconced disallows any criticism though. I don’t want to hear about it, read about it..it’s fuck all to do with me.. Unfortunately Fry requires us to sup it up.
I avoid Fry because his prattle became dull years ago. He couldn’t make his taxi ride around America interesting and so he’s shit. (How can a trip around USA be so uninteresting).
I used to chuckle, as we all did, at the blonde bombshell marrying the, soon to be dead, oil billionaire. Of course Fry marrying his youngster is different…
That walk I used to take home from work now is stopped, because the area I pass though is the domain of doggers. If you’re in the vicinity you’re not a walker you’re a dogger.
Ray Bradbury’s The Pedestrian springs to mind. Nobody believes you anymore that you’re just out for a walk…..nobody does that…queer behaviour.

Alphons said...

I'm just waiting until bestiality becomes legal and I will then take farmer Jones' bull round to give Fry what he really deserves.

call me ishmael said...

Not too long, I shouldn't think, mr alphons.

Anonymous said...

A friend with an innocent genius for accidental filth once said "I don't mind queers as long as they're not always trying to shove it down my throat."

Amen to that...

verge.//

call me ishmael said...

Not very metrosexual of you, mr verge, not very pluralist, not very inclusive; you sure you're not a Poundlander?

tdg said...

Most do not have the strength to be outsiders, especially when the discriminant is not of their own choice. We can hardly blame them for trying to feather a nest historically made of thorns. Especially when it is changes in heterosexual life - the decoupling of sex and reproduction - that make the move ideologically acceptable to the masses.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, that's right, mr tdg, you're correct, we can hardly. But we may still regret the herding into simple, hedonistic vulgarity of those who once were, by choice or predetermination, a bit Other.

yardarm said...

We live in an inverted world. Matters private; grief, sexual orientation are considered public property by supplier and consumer alike. For the individual.

Yet for the organization; the state or GlobaDosh, public matters such as incompetence and criminal activity are still private, when they can get away with it.

That is not fortuitous.

Alphons said...

Had it not been for the "critical mass" of"gayness" developing, nay overflowing, in Westminster, I do not think it would have been made legal.
The other queerness about it is the way that it had to be paraded with Pride.
How long before Jimmy Saville will be viewed a miss judged saint??

Anonymous said...

Pretty sure. Sometimes my laughter's just an easy lay.

v.//

call me ishmael said...

I don't think that gay was the terminology when homosexual acts beteween two consenting adults in private were made legal but there were certainly notorious predatory homosexuals in parliament then, as now, mr alphons, whatever the reasons for it the legalisation of homosexuality was the right decision, although, as with the abortion act, there have been unforeseen and undesirable consequence.

I agree with you about the prides, gay pride and black pride, what's to be proud of, in an accident of birth? And isn't it a sin, coming before a fall?

As for Savile, the PB has got off Scot-free. Job done. An' howsabout than, then?

call me ishmael said...

Careful, mr yardarm, with that searchlight.

Anonymous said...

Round our way the council were accused of "homophobia" because they wouldn't pay tens of thousands of ratepayers' pounds for rainbow lights to illuminate a bridge at night to celebrate some gay event.
I don't like these strident oafs who demand stuff just because they have unusual sexual preferences. They aren't just gay, they are enablers for government theft and are therefore bullies who frighten people into giving them cash because they have a stupid strong sidekick.
And "homophobia" has replaced the more accurate "annoyance caused by self-important mincers" - a real phobia is a debilitating fear, not a dislike of.
-richard


call me ishmael said...

Careful, mr richard, with that searchlight. And don't forget that words mean whatever govaments says they mean - QE actually means giving rich people poor people's money but don't mention it; Peace Proh-cess means setting murderers free and long-term economic plan means, well, the samev as QE. As for homophobia, there is actuall no such word, not, in any event, as it is used. Homosexual phobia, perhaps, but homophobia is jusr gibberish, babytalk.

mongoose said...

There was a thing on the e-radio at the weekend about that "medium is the message" oaf McLuhan, and his supposed complete vindication - as demonstrated by recent events. It was bollocks, I hope, but unnerving.

It doesn't apparently now matter that every thinking person considers the slaughter of cartoonists abominable. Or that pretty much the same section of the world couldn't give a proverbial what gays get up to. Or that we should have libraries. Or that we shouldn't go to A&E with toothache and then moan that we waited six hours. The truth is become the twitterfeed. Toot-toot sommes Charlie, the NHS is on its knees, gay marriage is a fundamental human right denied, and there is no alternative. "Hashtag-doh!", as the children say. Or perhaps there is less to this than meets the eye.

Anyway, the punchline of the programme was that universal (almost) literacy and data access is a relatively new phenomenon. The old devices of control and persuasion - effectively religious fire-and-brimstone terror inside the church and political three-card-trick rhetoric outside - had to be replaced. And by shinier baubles to distract the various audiences from the basic truth - which is that medium and message both have always been about command and control.

Mike said...

In that pic "Steve shopping with an ex" I've just noticed that Fry shows no sign of having a cock.

SG said...

Meanwhile I see that the 'Pub Landlord' is standing against the owner of 'Farage's Garages' in Thanet South. I can't help but think that, like the 'UKIP Weather Forecast', this will be more of a help than a hinderance to the eponymous Mr Farage, contrary to the belief of the foaming at the mouth types on the Maily-Filthograph-Online comment threads. FUKP - I bet Farage is kicking himself for not thinking of that rebranding opportunity... I must renew my long lapsed subscription to Viz! Hope all is well behind those solid walls of yours Mr I.

call me ishmael said...

In many ways, mr mongoose, professor McLuhan is my tutor and mentor, oafish or not, so We will discuss these matters just as soon as I have secured several roofs, dealt with an itinerant loss-denier/adjuster and with builders, power and internet providers, all of whom I would gleefully burn at the stake, the medium of fire being my unequivocal message to such knaves.

call me ishmael said...

The walls, mr sg, are fine but there has been external catastrophe, distressing and wearying and costly, c'est la vie, goes to show you never can tell.

I dislike Murray, another Oxbridge funny man gone straight, military historian and now political pundit, a bloated version of wotsername, Mel, is it, Sue?

I saw a few minutes of Sid Faridge with some pair of cunts off the Gogglebox show, Christ alfuckingmighty, to what sort of imbecile constituency does he play?

call me ishmael said...

No balls, either, mr mike, Stevie; so, a full missing set then, so to speak; I blame the parents. I wonder if he and the boychild're going to start a bought family, just to complete their unqueering.

call me ishmael said...

I heard a lovely line, mr mongoose, relating to a self-bankrupted Regency duke and his gaudy possessions which relates, I feel, to the i-Folk and their comms treasures - .....the tinsel of the pauper and the baubles of the fool.

Zuckerberged and Jobsed out of such poor, halting Reason as God and parents gave them, they are, friending and trending and following.

There was nearly a row, here, the other day. The telephone has been off for a month and mrs ishmael had purchased for me a rudimentary portable telephone.

But I don't want one.....
But what if you get ill and need to contact someone...?
I don't care. I'll get in the car and drive to hospital...
But what if you have a heart attack?
Then I'll take an aspirin and some spray.
But what if that doesn't work?
Well, if that doesn't work I certainly won't be able to operate a fucking ouija-phone, will I, and there's no fucking coverage here, anyway. And if I'm having a heart attack the battery'll be flat. Won't it. That's one of the Laws of the Accursed Universe. Even if I spend my life making sure that the phone's charged, just in case I have a heart attack, y'know, getting out of bed in he middle of the night just to check the charger, you can bet your life that on the day I do have a heart attack, the fucking thing will be as flat as a pancake and good for fuck all.
But it's got big keys. And it's dead simple. Even you can operate it.
It was me, you remember, who had a portable telephone long before most people and it's not that I can't operate ond it's just that I don't want to. If I wanted a portable telephone I would have one, wouldn't I?

I'm afraid that I hurt mrs ishmael's feelings, what with the hurricane damage and the constant power cuts maybe I should just have said Thanks, dear, I'll put it on charge right away but I suppose I would actually rather die than turn into some panic-stricken SagaDuffer, frightened, ever, of Mr Death's grim sergeants coming to fetch me to him. Fuck it, I've always lived in an infinity of paranoid possibilities and dying for want of a portable telephone is a long way down that worrisome list.

mrs ishmael said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
SG said...

Sorry to hear that you have been hit so hard Mr I but it sounds as though the important people and dog bits are still intact. An opportunity to build back stronger perhaps? I read something in, the Filthograph I think it was, this morning burbling on about the 'anthropocene' - how man now shapes the planet. The planet, however, has other ideas so it would seem. We are all puny in the face of nature...

Bungalow Bill said...

Yes sorry to hear of it Mr I. I trust you will be able to pick things up.

yardarm said...

All the best, Mr Ishmael.

call me ishmael said...

Thanks but people have had much worse to face in Hebden Bridge, Cockermouth, York and Somerset and that's without mentioning Iraq and Afghanistan and Syria, this is just inconvenience, by comparison. And what is wrecked WILL need to be replaced, stronger.

I saw the headline in the Filth-O-Graph, today, about the Anthroposcene but the writing there has gone so downhill, the features so trashy that I didn't read it for fear of disappointment and the suspicion that it was something I already knew, anyway.

You are right, mr sg, as King Cnut observed, the sea mocks us.

Anonymous said...

The universe is indeed accursed. Even ants have endless toil, warfare, and fungus in their brains. How much worse for us, who do the same stuff but know it? Bacteria have the right idea- life forms with the unecessary bits removed, in the same way a dandelion seed beats a 747. No loadsheets, fuellers, missing baggage, birds sucked into engines. It just flies. Pah, I haven't had enough to drink.
-richard

call me ishmael said...

Amoebas are very small,

Oh, aah, eeh, ooh
There's absolutely no strife
Living the timeless life,

If I need a friend, I just give a wriggle,
Split right down the middle
And when I look, there's two of me
Both as handsome as can be.

Aahhhh, here we go
Slithering
Here we go slithering
And squelching on.

Black hair, brown hair, feather and scale
Seed and stamen
And all unnamed life that lives
Turn your quivering nerves in my direction
Turn your quivering nerves in my direction
Feel the energy projection
Of my cells
Wishes you well......

I first saw the Incredible String Band in a basement coffee shop, mr richard, just off Shaftesbury Square, when I was young.

This, above amd below, is from A Very Cellular Song, 1966/67.

May the pure light within you guide you all the way on.

mongoose said...

I was trapped in mrs mongoose's car and rightly forbidden to change things - except to move the seat back to get my legs in - I had to listen to the end, and they had dug him out of his i-grave. I must admit to never having paid much attention to him before, and had previously taken it all a bit literally. But, but...

Sorry to hear that the wintertime havoc has come along up there to try you.

SG said...

I rather liked the Pub Landlord (past tense!...). However like the 'Partridge - Coogan relationship it seems he is the Dr Jekyll to the Murray Mr Hyde...

Anonymous said...

Listened. Many thanks.
-richard

SG said...

Headline news on the PBC website is that Fry and Elliot have married, replete with white carnation buttonholes. WTF? If I didn't know who Fry was and just saw the picture I would have assumed they were father and son attending a family wedding. I am not against same sex relationships but this combination of gender and age feels deeply wrong - sick in fact. Generally I try to stick to political commentary but a boundary has been crossed here. How can it have come to this? We are, it seems, being encouraged to 'celebrate' this sort of thing. Well fuck them. I'm sorry but no this is vile...

Anonymous said...

Elliott, not Elliot. Elliot is a good old Border Reiver name, as is Eliott, but as they used to say (before they were shipped to Ireland to stop them stealing and cattle-rustling aka the Ulster Plantation)
"Two Ls, two Ts, we know not who they be"
We know now. They be fruits. All the same, abnormal though it is, consenting adults are just that. As my old ma says, hell mend 'em.
-richard

SG said...

No Elliot with one 't' according to the PBC but I did make a mistake - that's his first name - the surname is Spencer...

call me ishmael said...

There is a wealth of comment online about Murray's candidacy, mr sg; I'm with that tsunami of bile which thinks he's just another toff, making a career out of mocking the poor, the way EastEnders and Corrie have been doung for decades. And I do think we are in a sorry state if he's the best hope we have, against Sid Faridge and his elderly bovverboys'n'girls. Oh, I know that there are very reasonable people who say that At least he's articulating the concerns of whoever it is and at least he's rattling the cages of the Establishment but they said that about Hitler. And Thatcher. And he's not even a patch on either of them.