Stone-Throwing Haters?

A few days ago, three men decided to be like heathens of old and cast stones into a "gay bar" in Galveston, TX. A gay man was struck in the head and anointed with 12 staples in his skull. Now, the three men are accused of a hate crime. The story can be accessed HERE.

However, I wonder if the hate crime status will stick... not because this is Texas (shrug); but I read that this place is known as a gay bar, BUT the clientele is actually mixed. After reading the story, I wasn't clear if the three men specifically targeted the victim, spat any hateful rhetoric while committing the crime, or did anything that may suggest that they didn't randomly throw the 4-pound stone at anyone in particular. Since it isn't a totally gay bar, they might have a viable defense... unless the District Attorney received more information to the contrary that was just not mentioned in the article.

These 3 idiots could easily say that they thought the victim was some guy that owed them money and they came to collect. Of course, we all know better. These jackasses wouldn't have walked into a Wal-Mart, Hooters, or Chippendales and threw a 4-pound stone at someone. They seemingly picked this place because of its reputation as a gay bar.

Unfortunately, that assertion is not enough and would be just a hunch in the eyes of a judge. So, I wouldn't be surprised if these goons got off with a lighter punishment than they deserve. Now, for an interesting twist.... if a gay man walks into a church that's known for its fiery rhetoric... throws a stone and splits the Pastor's head open... is that a hate crime?

Yes, I had to go there... because the sword should cut both ways, shouldn't it?

War of the Christians

Ahhhh, something just happened to me that hasn't happened in months! No, I'm not talking wet dreams... rather, I woke up to the sounds of birds chirping... pigeons cooing... one giant chorus outside of my ever-brightening bedroom window. So anyway, while the coffee is brewing in the kitchen, I figured I'd take this opportunity to decorate this small corner of cyberspace with a few thoughts.

You see, last year, I ventured to this new social networking site called Facebook. On there, I started connecting with all sorts of friends, new and old. I forged most of those friendships right here in Texas. But recently, one of my friends resurfaced after a few years, and she has been on my mind ever since I posted "Within These Walls" on February 16th.

Whether she knew this or not, she had a profound effect on me. She gave me a fresh perspective on things, especially religion. In fact, there have been a lot of people... heterosexual, die-hard Christian men and women I've met in recent times that have really helped me understand what's going on in the world.

There's a social war currently in progress... a World War III... a War of the Christians; homosexuals have long been caught in the middle. Even though many of us identify as Christian, we are still their ultimate manifest destiny. We are the "Kashmir" of India, China, and Pakistan. We are the "oil of Iraq". We represent something that two other parties are fighting over. They are fighting over a coveted resource I truly believe all people of faith ultimately need... and that is self-validation.

For the purpose of this post, my newly found lady friend belongs to the side I call "Angelics". The other side is filled with people that go into homo-oriented blogs and assail us with their perspective on what's right and what's wrong... hurling Bible passages at us like Molotov cocktails. Yet, they fail to see why so many homosexuals are angry with them. As a response, some of us lash back with sometimes hateful responses. Texas is literally infested with this type of Christian, whom I term the "Battlers".

War of the Christians: Angelics vs. Battlers

Now, not all Battlers yell, scream, and approach homosexuals with guns blazing. Some of them can be coy, cool, collected, and calculating -- with deadly precision. These types of Battlers move around in stealth mode, dropping landmines in an effort to blow us up piece by piece. First a leg... then an arm; our heart; a thigh; a breast; a wing -- you get the idea.

Ahhh, yes -- Battlers in stealth mode. They pass out fliers... they cruise through gay neighborhoods on "peaceful missions of conversion"... they attempt to alter legislation. Essentially, they confront homosexuality via physical means. They believe by forcing God's word onto us, that will somehow "cure" us of our afflictions and give us the chance to repent, or go to Hell.

Meanwhile, the Angelics, although many of whom empathize with Battlers, take a starkly different approach. They confront homosexuality with the attempt to understand and respect our differences. In reaching out with their olive branches, from time to time, they will invoke their beliefs through indirect suggestions. "Come check out my church this Sunday." "There's this guy in Bible Study that I may think is actually gay. Help me find out." Long story short, they "pray" for us while standing by our side. As such, you'd never see a Battler and a homosexual going to gay bars together... drinking, dancing, laughing, and just having a good, honest time... only Angelics.

Angelics believe that the key to getting people to love God is not by damning them to Hell... stone-casting... rewriting Constitutions... and such. Additionally, they believe that homosexuals are the moral stepping stones Battlers need to quench an insatiable appetite for self-rightousness. They feel that the Battlers are attacking us with words in a subtle attempt to validate themselves, even though Angelics aren't aware that they need to be validated from time to time as well.

Nevertheless, Angelics are generally confident in their own skin and beliefs, and don't feel the need for "pounce and conquer" tactics. So, it's safe to theorize that Angelics tend to indirectly take the "kill homosexuality with kindness" approach. Hence, this is the source of this two-front War of the Christians, and the stains of our blood coat a violent battlefield.

The homosexual's conundrum spawned when there became a need for everyone to co-exist in order for the greater whole to survive. Now, I believe it's vital for the gay community to build bridges, even with those who disagree with our sexual orientation -- or what some like to refer to as 'lifestyle'. For that, the Angelics are the surest bet we have in accomplishing that goal. If there is ever to be gay marriage or rights at the American federal level, it will be at the political hands of Angelics. However, we can only stand halfway on the bridge. If the Battlers would rather blow that bridge up, then there's nothing more we can do with them.

I guess that's why I have only befriended Angelics - and somehow, someway, they manage to stay in my life... walk with me side-by-side in our similarities and our differences. Angelics are the reason I believe that not all heterosexual, die-hard religious, and/or Republican people are out to utterly crush us in this life and beyond.

Inside the Lion's Den

Today, my thoughts rest upon one of my best friends from Chicago, Illinois. We've been friends for years now, and we have quite a bit in common. We work for the same place; both love to travel; both love men; both delved heavily into religion in the past; both tend to put others' needs ahead of our own; and both come from 'families' not consisting of a mother and a father -- like many conservatives define a true family to consist of.

Despite all of our similarities, it is perhaps our differences that make our friendship so strong. Most certainly, we've come to respect each other's different philosophies in life. That difference in philosophy truly shines when we go out to bars together.

You see, recently, we went out to The Mining Company -- a dark, mineshaft-themed gay bar in Dallas' Cedar Springs gayborhood. The crowd seems less pretentious there, and there's definitely an age difference between TMC and other nearby bars. Nevertheless, when we walk through those front doors and into the cavernous bellows of the lion's den within, reality blurs for my friend... and I already know how it's going to play out.

Supposedly, the inner soul thrives on one of four core engines: power, intimacy, fun, and peace -- so the color code theory goes. My friend most definitely thrives on fun... and the bare-chested go-go boys, beefy bartenders, and hot, sweaty man-skin seems to instill some sort of hope for something more meaningful down the road. TMC has just the type of man he is looking for, but deep down, he clings to the belief that he can walk out with the heart, soul, and love of any bar fly --- after a night of hot passion in the sheets.

But, I watch helplessly as a sexy bartender pours more and more liquor into his glass, and it flows into his inner child, blurring reality even further. After the bartender engages in conversation with him, he takes that as an advance -- or someone that is receptive to giving him what he wants and needs after last call. Within moments, he's passing out his phone number like free condoms.

Now, my inner soul is driven by the core engine of intimacy. I see bars as nothing more than a place to hang out with friends and have good conversation over drinks... not to mention the occasional "make-a-fool-out-of-myself" routines on the dance floor. Bartenders and go-go boys will smile, say "honey", "baby", "sweety", and all sorts of other words for one main reason... CASH. For a man looking for intimacy, they are like props in a meat market.

Don't get me wrong... I love man-watching just like the next guy, but it IS a meat market. It can even be the proverbial lion's den if you are out for one thing, but truly need another. Lust drips from the walls and onto the floor. If you see where I'm coming from, then you agree that over-emphasis on youth, appearance, and status is shoving kryptonite into the hearts for those that need more for true happiness.

Immediately, physicality has taken priority above all else... and that's totally cool if lust and physicality is all my friend wants. However, as time passes, I become more convinced that he may thrive on fun; but it's not the oil that his engine truly needs in order to run. If he is expecting something more either instantly or down the road --he will continue to walk away hurt, as he did that night... and the night before... and the night before. Then again, what do I know? I'm an over-the-hill, cynical, 30-something, cast-ironed blogger that has no sense of anything but dark realities... only because I learned important lessons the hard way.

*grin*

I love my friends to death. I would die over and over for them... and I know I can be suffocating with my opinions, to the point where I'm dangerously judgmental. It's only because I care -- not to argue who's right or wrong -- but because it sucks being used, abused, hurt, and treated like trash at the first sign of trouble. Nevertheless, from this post forward, I will bite my tongue. I'll be there for my friend to lean on. I'll be there as a drunk man's crutch between the bar counter and the car. I'll hide his keys and take him home. But in his war to snag the "perfect" bar fly, I'll opt to stand outside of the lion's cage and hope for the best.

Rise of a New Building

There may be hope for Dallas' oldest gayborhood yet. I can remember the days of driving along Cedar Springs and pulling into the Tom Thumb to grab a few 'items' on the way home from work. I remember the dates I had at the old Crossroads Market. Or how about the dark, mine-shaft themed club called Throckmorton Mining Company that ominously closed last year? I miss that 'Wall of Shame' where hopeful one-night standers hung out.

Recently, TMC has moved around the corner and reopened with a vengeance. It's certainly a relief to meet my friends there for Sunday night 80s dance music again. Good, stiff drinks... a Ms. Pac Man machine... and of course, good-lookin' men -- all are back on the menu after a 10-month hiatus. But now, something else catches my eye.

Out of the rubble of a long-gone Tom Thumb rises a new development. Apparently, this place is called Illume (rendering pictured above) -- a mixture of high-end retail, ritzy restaurants, and upscale apartments to revitalize "The Strip"... just what every neighborhood needs during a blundering economy. Seriously, though.. from what I read, the developers are aiming to revitalize gay-anchored neighborhoods all over the country with a broad paintbrush of brighter colors.

I wish them luck, and I'm glad that Cedar Springs is getting a boost. The caveat to all of this is the fact that nowadays, developers seem to be hell-bent on attracting both gay and straight crowds. I can't blame them, as it only makes good business since. At the same time, I'm afraid that this will dilute or otherwise water down the gay identity imprinted in the Cedar Springs neighborhood. But, I guess that's the price we must ultimately pay in exchange for more tolerance and acceptance.

Hmmm... I wonder if Illume's developers supported Prop 8 with generous donations. Nothing sucks more than taking our (gay/lesbian) money and using it to attack us behind our backs.

Balancing Act

The sun is gone here in North Texas, replaced by a gibbous moon creeping into the northeastern sky. Cold air descends upon us amidst a star-filled canopy. What a perfect night to venture over to Fitzhugh Avenue for a cocktail tonight!

My best friend has dropped down from Chicago to visit, and it seems that he's passed out on my couch. Traveling can zap the energy outta anybody, even if they are seasoned flight attendants like my buddy here. So, while he rests up for "Two Dolla Make-You-Holla" Night at Dallas' Crew's Inn Bar, this is the perfect moment to unravel my thoughts.

One of my good friends, known only as "The Godfather", is going to meet us up there at 10:20PM tonight -- as I do every Tuesday night at this time if we are off from work. It's kinda nice to have "traditions" going with a brotha's circle of friends. Perhaps everyone needs some continuity in their lives to keep a comfortable level of sanity around themselves.

Earlier today, my grandmother called me to chit-chat for a while. I looked at the caller ID and let the phone ring to voice mail. Now, before you throw tomatoes at me, hear me out. I find myself in one of those "hang out with people that understand" moods, you know? Don't get me wrong... I am so grateful to have family that supports and embraces my sexuality. But, my grandmother just doesn't understand what I really go through sometimes. Family provides a much different level of support than gay friends do, and today -- it's the friendship support that I need.

As a homosexual, I went through "The Tribulation", which is typically a 4-step process of obtaining truth and subsequently inner peace. No offense to my straight counterparts, but heterosexuals can't understand this Tribulation -- they can only empathize. The four steps are:

1. Denial - For some, this is a Black boy believing that Black boys can't be gay. For others, it's saying "I'm not GAY" after pulling their penis out of some guy's ass. For some, "it's just a phase". Yes, you get the drift... mentally denying that you are gay, and denying the physical attraction exists -- even if one engages in the act. Still, other gaylings are fortunate to skip this painful step on the staircase altogether.
2. Rationalization - the step of actually grasping what 'being gay' means and its subsequent implications. Examples: seeing other boys going goo-goo-gah-gah over girls and just not sharing in the fun; knowing that there's something different, but not what or why; validating yourself by enjoying manly and womanly parts... you get the idea. If you use terms like "experimenting" or "finding myself"... look at the Tribulation map and you'll see "YOU ARE HERE". Those who aren't really sexually oriented to the same sex may look at this as fun. For those of us who are sexually oriented to the same sex, it can be serious business... and agonizingly long -- if not, the longest step of The Tribulation.
   
3. Realization - aka "coming out" to yourself, then to those you deem it is important to tell.
   
4. Undertaking - integrating into a 'new world' of living and smoothing over any aftermath of Step 3. Engaging the external world as Superman, rather than Clark Kent.
   

I'm well into the final step of the Tribulation, where I will remain for the rest of my life. My sleeping couch-hogger friend here has been on step 4 for years, and he skipped over step 1 like a leaping, happy sprite. Step 1 hit me in the face like a cinder block. The Godfather, who just turned 50, experienced a much longer Step 2 than I did. Once I tried a man, there was no denying that I liked it, and it didn't take long for me to wrap myself around the concept of 'gayness'.

So, henceforth, those who endure the Tribulation can relate, bond, and interact with each other on a different level of intimacy than family can. Given that, it's such a balancing act... to keep a close bond with family, while seeking out the support of my gay friends; and when the grandmother calls 4 times a day with the potential to carry on hours-long conversations, a brotha's gotta have some space sometimes.

I wish I didn't feel so guilty. I don't want to seem like I don't appreciate my family, because I do. I love them very very much. Even if they had disowned me, I'd love them. Even if they flush my ashes in the toilet after I die, I'd love them. But, tonight's little soiree is the continuity I enjoy -- and need... and enjoy it I will.

The Quiet Place

It's amazing how fast days fly by, especially when you are off from work. The sun seems to glide across the sky; eyes struggling to keep up with its graceful movement. Slow down, clock... I'm trying to think!

Today, one of my best friends has graced me with his presence - live from Chicago, IL. He escaped the impending blizzard and landed safely here in the Land of Random Weather. Last night, we went to one of Dallas' popular gay eateries, Hunky's. It's a diner-themed restaurant with patio space and plenty of glass to man-watch while grazing on my food.

Afterwards, we went across the street to the corner gay bar, J.R.'s -- a place I don't really frequent anymore since my favorite bartender no longer greets me at "point". But, on a Monday night, the pretentious crowd seems to be dimmed down to a light dusting of everyday guys just out for a few drinks and quieter conversation. We went upstairs and ordered a $2 rum and coke, which was 7/8th rum and 1/8th coke. Definitely a leg-spreader of a drink!

I haven't laughed and enjoyed myself like this in days. As we drank another, I noticed that the corner coffeehouse was closed down. I was kinda mummed over that, because I can remember the dates I've had there. It was where things began in my last relationship -- and now, fittingly, it was dark and empty. Only a string of icicle lights running along the roofline offered a glimpse of light -- almost like an afterthought. But in that darkness, there is opportunity for a new beginning. Perhaps something better will fill its bellows in the times ahead.

I've really learned to appreciate days off like these. Now that I'm back in the world of the living from multiple graveyard shifts, I've found a "quiet" place to enjoy. I feel alive... as though I was back in the picture above, experiencing the true peace and beauty that life has to offer -- if one'd only accept its embrace. Today is the day I'm doing just that!