THEGAYUK

Category: Topics

  • Should Rita Ora Have Apologised for Girls?

    When Rita Ora announced a song with Cardi B, Charli XCX and Bebe Rexha, the world imploded, and we were ready for a huge collab that hasn’t been seen since “Lady Marmalade”.

    Should Rita Ora Have Apologised for Girls?
    Progressive or regressive? Lyrics from the song, Girls.

    Whilst not quite on the level of “Lady Marmalade” – an opinion not shared by me – the song came out on Friday and was consumed quickly by fans of the four rising members in popular culture. But many people were quick to say that song was offensive to the LGBT community.

    The track references Rita Ora’s sexuality as a bisexual woman. Lyrics in the song include ‘I’m 50/50 and I’m never gonna hide it’, and talks about an experience with a girl called Lara. After the release, many people were quick to voice their concerns with the lyrics, believing it to be exploitative and even tone deaf.

    When I first heard the song, I appreciated the way the song fit the pop mould, but lyrics such as ‘red wine, I just wanna kiss Girls’ did seem problematic even to me. Yet I was misinformed and did not realise that Rita Ora is actually bisexual, instead hearing the lyrics and thinking that the song was pandering to a straight male fantasy.

    After finding that out, I realised that the song was not intended to be harmful, but the world of Twitter continued to discuss the song.

    Pop star Hayley Kiyok tweeted that the song did ‘more harm than good’, with followers agreeing that the lyrics were clumsy, even if not intended to be, and gave the wrong impression to straight men. The pop star continued to say that the song ‘belittles’ the community, stating that she doesn’t need alcohol to show love of the same sex.

    Yet other Twitter users didn’t think the same way, stating that they didn’t even think of how it could be interpreted. Such was the debate and ‘backlash’, Ora took to Twitter to apologise to her fans. In her statement, shared on Twitter, Rita says that the song ‘was written to represent my truth and is an accurate account of a very real and honest experience in my life. I have had romantic relationships with women and men throughout my life and this is my personal journey.’

    Rapper Cardi B also tweeted about the backlash, saying the song was never intended to cause harm, and even revealed that she has been with many women.

    Whilst I admit that I thought the song could indeed be problematic, I was seeing it from the angle of many others, that lyrics glorifying a bisexual female relationship could cater to people that only believe women’s bisexuality is ‘a phase’. Yet seeing Rita explain the situation, it’s pretty clear to see that she is writing from personal experience, and why is that a bad thing? It may be because until now, the general public had no knowledge of Rita’s sexuality. But should that really matter? A certain One Direction member can continuously hint at bisexual relationships himself, yet never disclose his sexuality, but instead of backlash, the man gets elated feedback from excitable fans.

    Sexuality is a very complex situation, and we all have different experiences in discovering who we are, and realising the people we like. It’s important that the idea of being PC, of analysing everything to a point where backlash can literally ruin a career, does not infringe on artistic expression.

    Whilst the lyrics in Girls are a little clumsy, it’s important to remember where they come from; a young woman that has become an LGBT ally, expressing who she is, and writing songs about her own experiences.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • In the age of #MeToo, is it right to be lusting over topless men on Instagram?

    In the age of #MeToo, is it right to be lusting over topless men on Instagram?

    As a twenty-three-year-old twink, you might think life in gay culture is bliss. But the rise of popularity on Instagram has given rise to topless men with muscle, unabashedly showing off their abs, pecks and gorgeous tans.

    Adam Rickitt body
    CREDIT: Adam Rickitt / Instagram

    I’m a young man that likes what he likes, and unfortunately, I’m a sucker for a handsome man with a six-pack. I follow a lot of men on my feed, and whilst I know they’re unattainable, it’s still fun to look.

    But in the wake of the #MeToo movement, bringing awareness to sexual assault and harassment to women, I begin to wonder if objectifying these men is going to become problematic. Aren’t we just as bad for lusting over images of topless men? Of course, the main difference here on Instagram is these men are living their best lives, and they’re uploading photos for the endless stream of attention they receive from their thousands of followers, or so we’re led to believe.

    The constant stream of cocktails on the sandy beaches of a faraway country, of sunglasses and shorts whilst I, watch a snow storm, ignites not jealousy, but instead a sense of longing. According to a recent survey, Instagram was rated the top social media app that is bad for one’s mental health. Is it any wonder that a discovery like that has been found?

    We so desperately want to quit our mundane, often dead-end jobs, for a life that seems so much better. So desperate are we that we forget that social media shows us only the good. Who uploads a photograph of them with a massive spot, dribble down their chin and from a bad angle?

    Instead, we plump for Valencia filters, with airbrushed skin and cleverly crafted digital tans. The social media culture we live in has given us the best of the best, forever making us feel like we have to keep up. When we can’t, we sink lower, finding the ebb of sadness.

    Goodness, we’ve got a bit sad here, haven’t we? For a first article, you’d think I’d show you my best side! But then I’d be playing up to the picture-perfect lifestyle you see plastered all over Instagram.

    For men, it’s hard to discuss body confidence issues. It’s not talked about often, and so we tend not to mention it. I’m one to say I have body confidence issues, and I’m sure there would be others out there that say I have no right to be self-conscious about the way I look. But I do, and it’s common for people of all shapes and sizes to have those issues.

    A common problem for men is the fear that their size is just not good enough. Straight men know their girlfriends or potential partners will discuss a ‘perfect size’, and in the gay community, we also discuss men’s sizes. The myth of the penis size is a strange one. On one hand, many people simply don’t mind. On the other, it’s preference. Body confident Instagram men show off everything, and leave very little to the imagination. With strict Instagram guidelines on nudity, the toned gods have found ways around this, showing blurs and imprints in the tightest fabrics you could ever see. It’s very unlikely to see anything other than a hand full in images like this.

    It’s easy to believe that the hot men we see on Instagram don’t think like this. We imagine them earning money for every post, spending a second in the gym and getting a killer body, and spending hour after hour taking in culture, relaxing by pools, and drinking refreshing drinks. It’s easy because that is all we see of these complete strangers.

    We don’t know their lifestyle, not really. We see what they want us to see. It’s hard to remember that when we’re sat in a dilapidated house, wondering how we’re going to afford rent at the end of the month.

    If you ever feel like you are comparing yourself to others, it’s time to find that unfollow button, and click unfollow. Take some time away from the glossy too busy to model men, and instead focus on what’s around you.

  • Dating As A Gay Muslim: No fats? No Femmes? No Asians?

    Dating As A Gay Muslim: No fats? No Femmes? No Asians?

    Being a gay Muslim of South-Asian descent I often find some sort of prejudice within the gay community when it comes to dating and hooking up.

    rawpixel / Pixabay

    I noticed it especially when I started using the apps. The apps are great, you can be as specific as you want and really filter down to find what you are looking for. There are also a number of different apps to cater for specific gay communities and labels. They are also a great way of realising how picky you can be when it comes to what you want. A lot of people are open-minded and others are very upfront with their requirements.

    After getting past my initial bombardment of unsolicited photos, I started looking through profiles until I found someone I was interested in. He looked great and the start of his profile was funny. But that’s when I saw it. He specifically stated he didn’t want Asians, wanted the guy to be smooth and wanted him to be slim. All of the things I am not in other words. I was hurt in some way from reading this, but quickly shrugged it off and said to myself that the views of one person shouldn’t make me feel bad. I moved on to the next guy, whose profile was blank, and messaged him. He replied that he wasn’t looking for Asians as well. I took this in one of two ways. He was genuinely not looking for Asians, or using it as an excuse to end the conversation early. Again I shrugged it off, I can’t change my ethnicity so why bother myself with people who are being prejudiced against me. I did find a lot of people who were interested and we had some conversation that either led to something or didn’t. Such is the nature of the apps I found.

    But it got me thinking, is it prejudice or racism. I mean we all have our types, myself included, but I don’t feel the need to implicitly tell people that I don’t want a specific skin colour. I am open-minded, and my main criterion is someone with kind eyes. It sounds funny, but I am drawn to eyes and how they can convey a lot about people. I understand that these guys who put their requirements are doing so to ward off any unwanted attention, and to help them find what they are looking for faster. But is that really the case? I tested this out and put my requirements based on my current mood, and I found a handful of matches. When I saw these select few it made me realise that I didn’t particularly feel drawn to any of them. I went back to my more open requirements and felt instantly better. But that is just how I am, these people who don’t want fats, femmes or Asians know what they want, and that is their choice. It would be easy for me to judge them, but then again should they not be allowed to seek what they want?

    One interaction that really threw me off was when a guy messaged me saying he doesn’t usually go for Asians, but I would be an exception. That is when I genuinely got angry at the comment he made. It implied that I am acceptable even though I am Asian, and that he deems me worthy of his attention. I rightly put him down for that comment and ended the conversation there. He blocked me, which was to be expected, but had he not I would have blocked him and his pointed views out of my life anyway. Other interactions have had people ask me where I was born, as they don’t want people who weren’t born in the UK or don’t speak English without an accent. Again, I have no time for these people. They are trying to cover up their prejudice towards immigrants by making it out that they are just having a normal conversation.

    This isn’t to say I haven’t found people from the apps, as I have had a number of dates. What it is saying is that people shouldn’t feel bad if they find prejudice within the apps. They should ask themselves if they would want to be with someone like that, and if they do then that is fine. But you never know what you might find when you venture out of your preferences. I know I have been surprised and learned more about myself when I have ventured out. So for any profile out there that states ‘no Asians,’ I’m sorry but you are missing out. We are amazing.

  • COMMENT | WWE finally shows its Pride

    COMMENT | WWE finally shows its Pride

    Being a WWE fan has never been 100% easy.

    I have been in love with wrestling ever since I was a kid. Naturally, it was the campy, dramatic side of things that got me interested in Sports Entertainment. The first ever episode I watched involved Stephanie McMahon marrying a wrestler called Test. However, during the ceremony, it is revealed she was secretly drugged by McMahon Family nemesis Triple H who married her in a Las Vegas drive-through. It was pure soap opera and I was hooked.

    “Being a gay WWE fan means that you often have to forgive a lot of previous transgressions.”

    However, as the kids say, WWE has been quite “problematic” over the years. Being a gay WWE fan means that you often have to forgive a lot of previous transgressions. The Attitude Era was defining for WWE. It was when you had Stone Cold drinking beers, DX tormenting the boss Vince McMahon and there were half-naked ladies for the eye to see. It was rude, obnoxious and outrageous; it was everything we wanted to be. It was also pretty homophobic. WWE has never shied away from a gay joke throughout its time. I remember a scene when my favourite wrestler Triple H went looking for Shawn Michaels in a restaurant. He mistakes a long-haired waiter for Shawn explaining “well, that’s certainly a different look to the chaps I usually see you in there, Sexy Boy (Shawn Michaels’ nickname)”. The waiter then visibly checks Triple H out and, after Triple H apologises and tries to leave, the waiter tells him “I get off at seven”. Triple H retorts “yeah, I bet you do”. For a wrestling fan, it’s good bit, pointing out the homoerotic undertones of the Shawn Michaels/Triple H dynamic. This, though, was 2009. Not the attitude era but the PG era.

    WWE’s homophobia hasn’t always been a “subtle” joke. WWE commentator Michael Cole got in trouble for calling his then-colleague a faggot on Twitter. Even favourite John Cena was under fire for gay jokes made towards The Rock in 2011. The most vivid example I remember was watching Raw with my brother in 1997. On it, Jerry Lawler was cutting a promo on Goldust telling him his father hated him because he’d married a gold digger and was now kissing men like a “flaming faggot”. This was not beeped out, this was deemed perfectly acceptable. Now sure, Lawler was playing heel (a wrestling term for ‘bad guy’) and Goldust got the win but it was particularly biting for a 7-year-old to take in.

    Men who kiss men are faggots. That was my take-away from that.

    One thing I have always felt as a WWE fan, though, is under-representation. WWE has always had relationship storylines. They have actually been some of my favourites. From Triple and Stephanie, Stone Cold and Debra to Zack Ryder and Eve, they are the soap opera stories that have had me interested in WWE for so long. But WWE has never had a gay-centric storyline (for any WWE fans reading this, Billy and Chuck do NOT count). We’ve had “hot lesbian action” but nothing ever gay. And let’s face it: WWE is pretty gay! It’s fit men in underwear grinding on top of each other. Yet WWE has never pulled the trigger.

    Then, in recent years, WWE has launched initiatives such as Be A Star which is an anti-bullying programme of events which promote tolerance and inclusion. Many WWE Superstars even got involved in the LGBT charity campaign No H8. This was, for me, pretty remarkable as it was the first time WWE really ever gave a nod to its LGBT fans. And to have two executives like Triple H and Stephanie McMahon do it sent a clear message that WWE was becoming more inclusive. This was then reiterated by support now-released wrestler Darren Young received when he came out. However, it was given a caveat that Young’s on-screen character “is not gay” but that there may be a change in future. This, however, did not happen and sadly Young was released 4 years later (likely due to a lack of creative ideas for Young rather than his coming out).

    NO H8 Campaign

    Cut to: Wrestlemania. Prior to the event, WWE Superstar and Twitter Thirst Trap Finn Balór announced that he was releasing a new t-shirt. This shirt would colour his logo with LGBT colours and a percentage of the funds would go to GLAAD, an American LGBT charity. This was the first time WWE would be showing pride colours (no, the Ultimate Warrior’s rainbow tassels don’t count). I marvelled at such an amazing gesture and was thrilled. Then… Wrestlemania. There was a pre-show Women’s Battle Royale match in which up and coming superstar Sonya Deville took part. Her usual outfit is all-black as a symbol of her fierce aggression. However, this time, she had donned white with rainbow colours. Sonya had previously tweeted praise Finn Balór’s t-shirt initiative and also came out as the WWE’s first openly-lesbian Superstar.

    Then came Finn’s match. Finn was joined in his entrance by local New Orleans LGBT community members. He was wearing the rainbow shirt, had the rainbow logo on his trunks and a rainbow running down the back of his boots. This was something WWE has never seen before and it was remarkable. Finn is a hugely popular talent and to support LGBT in a brand like WWE has worldwide significance. Let alone, it was his Wrestlemania debut. I am not afraid to say, it got me emotional because I thought about how it would’ve felt for 7-year-old me to have seen Finn entire in rainbow colours rather than hearing the word faggot.

    I truly hope this is a turning point to how WWE approached its LGBT fans. We are a valid part of the WWE Universe and to have this representation on their biggest show is a monumental step forward and an overwhelming gesture. I truly hope Finn, Sonya and the WWE know what an important moment that was for LGBT fans. I hope this continues and doesn’t get sidelined into a gimmick. We need an openly LGBT character, LGBT storylines and a commitment from WWE that is will continue to show its Pride.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | I came off Twitter for a week and I was happier for it

    Last week I decided that I would delete some social apps.

    Ranty tweets do nothing for the health – so why not come off it for a while.

    I was done with social media. Twitter had become the second thing I opened in the morning, second only to my eyes and within seconds I could feel my blood angry up.

    Twitter’s “Moments” were the catalyst for my angst. The platform, which claims not to be a publisher, hires a team of people to select stories (never actually on newsworthiness) and create an incredibly biased narrative and shoves them into my timeline.

    Have you ever noticed that there’s so much anger on Twitter?

    It’s faux anger, fueled by hashtags that will be long forgotten when the next travesty is ‘momentised’.

    But where is the anger about the mountains of plastic we consume each day? Where is the angst about the bleach we pour down millions of loos, water which eventually ends up in our oceans? Where is the outrage for the millions of acres of forest we destroy for paper products or products which contain palm oil?

    Problems that actually matter, problems are extinction level events for humankind.

    No, instead let’s argue about whether Ben Affleck’s back tattoo is “too much”, whether Germaine Geer is a feminist or not or whether the 30-year-old lyrics of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” are “problematic”. It’s just all so tiresome and what does all this negativity really achieve?

    If you “can’t deal” Ben’s tattoo, don’t look at it. If you don’t think Germaine is woke, don’t listen to her, if the lyrics offend you, just search for how much money that song has raised for good causes. Stop shitting on everything because you have a problem with it. Today.

    Enough is Enough

    As I clicked the “X” above Twitter and the TWO Facebook apps, I had a pang of, actually what was that feeling? Was it desperation? Or was it relief?

    Twitter is part of my work, so I knew I wasn’t going to be able to rid myself fully of the little blue bird, but I’d have to log in via a browser, which I found to be a much better experience for my mental wealth.

    For the first three days, when I had a spare moment, I found myself, opening up my phone and looking for something. As I flipped through my apps, I had forgotten what I was looking for, but habit is so ingrained in our fibres, we still reach to do the thing that we always do. I guess this is withdrawal. The visual element of the Twitter / Facebook app logo had gone, but I was still looking for my connection fix.

    After the fourth day, I had rediscovered the Apple news app – and started reading actual news. News that is sourced, written, analysed and curated by real-life journalists. Yes, of course, there is bias in news, but if you choose a number of outlets, one from each side of the political divide and one in the middle (or indeed a specialist or niche site, like THEGAYUK.com – plug plug) you can get variety. Like your food diet, your news diet needs variety. Consuming only one type will ultimately leave your wanting, no, needing more.

    By the fifth day, I had totally forgotten about the apps and an added boon, my phone’s battery life went to last an entire day. Almost.

    By the seventh day, I actually felt calmer. I felt happier. I feel less stressed.

    I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this up, but my mental wealth has boomed.

    As I travelled into London on the train, I looked around the carriage and was aware that everyone, regardless of their age was hunched over their phone. Tapping away. They were all obvious to the world around them. When did we become so disconnected from the real world?

    I looked out of the windows, the sun filtered through the glass. London looked beautiful. I felt happy to be alive. I felt happy to be disconnected in that moment.

    So if you find yourself getting angry over nothing, put down the phone, look out your window and take a deep breath.

     

     

  • We need to leave the K out of LGBT+

    COMMENT /

    LGBT is an initialism that has been in use since the late 1980s. Simply standing for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. But in recent years, extra letters have been added to the acronym, which in my opinion is suppressing the individuality of LGBT people.

    Is the LGBT acronym starting to lose all meaning as more and more letters get tagged onto the end?

    I may be a gay man but sometimes I feel I’ve been bracketed together with other people who, although also gay, may not actually share the same issues, values or goals.

    I feel the acronym is now starting to lose all meaning as letters, which to me have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with homosexuality or trans, are being tagged onto the end.

    K, for example, the most recent letter to be added has really got my gander up. For those of you not in the know, it stands for kink. I really can’t see what kink has to do with the lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender community.

    Please correct me if I’m wrong but the last time I checked, anybody could be a bit kinky or have a kink. Old people, heterosexuals, gays, anyone. So to add K to an already far too long acronym is pushing the boundaries.

    Of course, I believe that anything to do with sexuality or gender identity should still be included in the LGBT umbrella. But others, like K, turn it into a completely different cause altogether. It’s about sexuality, not sexual fantasies.

    I understand the origins of the LGBT acronym. It was to help a minority community feel less marginalised. And to help bring the community into wider society. As a community, we have come very far forward in our rights. I’m not saying the world is perfect for the LGBT community but it’s certainly ten times better than it was fifty years ago.

    My fear is that we are detaching ourselves from the society that we have fought to become accepted in and a part of. This long-winded acronym, to an outsider, can seem pretty daunting and far too politically correct.

    For a minority group who have fought for many, many years for inclusion, I fear we are endangering ourselves of exclusion from an accepting society by pigeonholing the gay community with this acronym.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • So what’s it like going on a nude beach for the first time?

    It has to be said. I’m a never nude.

    CREDIT: Jake Hook / THEGAYUK

    While my boyfriend takes almost every possible moment to whip his clothes off, I’m happy to keep it AbFab Saffy. He says I’m the only person he knows who dresses up to go to bed.

    So the idea of a nudist beach outing isn’t a natural fit for me, my Irish Roman Catholic never-naked family upbringing means that nudity to me is best kept in the dark. But as I’ve always said, “don’t say no, till you give it go”. So on a trip to Australia, I relented to my nagging boyfriend, who had heard there was a gay nude beach somewhere on the shores of Sydney.

    We were 9,445 miles away. No one I know would be there, and at 26 years-old I was in my prime.

    Early one morning, we took a ferry to the Toronga Zoo and walked for what seemed like hours. With every step, my protestations got louder and more pronounced. “Did we really need to do this”, “There’s a perfectly nice, findable beach in Manly”, “What’s so special about getting naked anyway?”

    Finally, we found it. Opening up in front of us was a naked haven. It was less of a beach and more of a cove of smooth rocks, facing towards the sea. A bit like a penguin exhibit at a zoo. Numerous, well-placed, seemingly naturally occurring outcroppings of smoothish rocks, perfect for spreading out a towel and basking beneath the Aussie sun. It looked perfect. It looked secluded. At each end, there was a high wall of rocks and thick bush add to the seclusion. Perfect.

    My boyfriend’s little eyes lit up like it was Christmas, Easter, Valentines, New Year’s and Wirral Appreciation Day (he’s from Wirral) all in one. He started removing items of clothes as we picked our way across the rocks to find somewhere to settle.

    I started casually glancing around, more to make sure I had a good footing on the rocks, rather than goggling the naked men on show. There were penises everywhere.

    Some were casually flopping over the owner’s knees, some were neatly nestled in a well-groomed nest of pubic hair. All attached to perfectly bronzed and toned bodies.

    We had found a spot to make camp, my boyfriend literally ran off towards the ocean.

    I was left to undress and sink lower into my own self-loathing.

    I could feel expectant eyes around me. I was, still dressed, very much so. So I began to peel off an item of clothing one item at a time. It was like a very slow, very bizarre Victorian striptease. First flip-flop, second flip-flop and so on until it was just my underwear and nakedness. I was eking out every moment of clothed protection.

    Finally, with my undies still on, I rooted around in my rucksack for my book. It was chunky. In what can only be described as pure magic, I whipped off my undies and firmly placed the book in front of the crown jewels in one swift, deft move. I was naked save for the book. I looked around to see if there had been any signs of approval from the expectant eyes, but they had long bored of my antics and were distracting themselves in other ways.

    I pretended to thumb through my book. My boyfriend called for me to come down to the ocean.

    Could I?

    Could I walk to the ocean… exposed? Between where I was sitting and the shore there must have been about ten meters of rocks.

    Sod it. Do it. What’s the worst that could happen?

    Beneath my book, I gave my little Mr a tug. It’s the tugging that all men give themselves when you need a little something more. You know, in the right circumstances, you add a couple of inches to a flaccid knob.

    Finally, appeased by the length, I remove my book stand up. I blind everyone. My pale never nude body is so bright I’m sure it can be seen from space.

    I feel eyes on me. “Turn it around Jake, turn it around”, I coo to myself. In my mind, Sade’s “Smooth Operator” is playing, as I slink towards the shoreline. Not wanting to rush, I make sure each step is sure and solid. My boyfriend is seven meters away from me. He’s waving at me, encouraging me to come to the water’s edge. He’s waist deep in the water and he’s been playing catch with some others that are in the sea. It looks fun. I want to join them.

    I continue to walk towards the sea. Why did we settle so far back from the shore? I’m five metres away now.

    Four meters… and then, I hear voices. These aren’t the subdued mumbles of the cove’s current inhabitants. No, I can hear children’s laughter and a general hubbub. I can hear a tannoy announcement. I can hear the churning of water from a propeller. From the left side of the cove, a tourist boat’s bow begins to appear.

    I’m three meters from the water now. More and more of the boat begins to show. It’s big. Actually, it’s massive. And there are lots of people on it. All of them with cameras pointed in the direction of the beach. The boat seems so close I’m sure I can hear the individual shutters of a hundred cameras firing.

    Forgetting Sade and my careful footing, I make a dash for the water. Gazzele like, I spring over the last few rocks and dive.

    Into 3 inches of water.

    My pasty ass isn’t even covered with water.

    The tourist boat continues its slow-paced chugging, its slow speed is mocking me. The cameras are still clicking. Eventually, it disappears around the cove. My boyfriend is almost drowning with laughter. The expectant eyes, attached to waspy mouths are saying something… I think I can hear “oh look, a floating pomme”.

    I die.

  • COMMENT | The problem with snowflakes they “reach for Twitter and moan incessantly about the outrage they feel”

    Quick my little snowflakes, reach for your twitter and moan incessantly about the outrage you feel. Or should that be “you think you feel” because as I seem to witness on a daily occurrence, there is a lot of young people moaning with outrage and I’m not sure why?

    geralt / Pixabay

    Wikipedia has the definition sorted for you. “Snowflake as a slang term involves the derogatory usage of the word snowflake to make reference to people. Its meaning has varied, but may include a person who has an inflated sense of their own uniqueness, has an unwarranted sense of entitlement, or is easily offended and unable to deal with opposing opinions”

    I’m not in total agreement with this however. I don’t really think it is derogatory. Obviously, this has been added by a snowflake who was outraged in the first place by what followed afterwards. Let’s look at the main reason for why l am writing this.

    via GIPHY

    I recently became incensed when I read about young people really not understanding the American sitcom Friends from 1994 to 2004 and complaining that it was transphobic, homophobic, fattist, sexist, generally insensitive, no doubt full of animal cruelty because of the song ‘smelly cat’ and Ross once kept a monkey, nudistphobic (no such word but there was a neighbour across the buildings who would walk around naked) clothistphobic etc etc. Looking back and the list could go on forever. And if they think that’s bad then I’d hate to imagine what they would make of US hit comedy The Golden Girls!

    The Twitterati took to social media to vent their outrage. Outrage that quite frankly isn’t there. You see we golden oldies enjoyed it for what it was. Six friends joking about the past, the present and the future. And that is what we have. Friends are often cruel to me for choices made in the past. I am often cruel back. Those friends are there for me in times of need. I am there for them. We laugh, we enjoy we get along and work things out. It seems the snowflakes of today can’t do that.

    You see we never had this social media thing. If we were outraged then we would write to the BBC’s Points of View show. And if we couldn’t be bothered to do that we simply let it go because we simply were not outraged enough to be outraged by trivial stuff and couldn’t be arsed to keep picking at it like a scab.

    I’m not saying people who are at my grand age of the 4th decade are not snowflakes themselves, it’s just that my generation can tell them to sit down, shut up and breathe. Or to use the write acronym STFU! Indeed only recently I told that to a good friend who got caught up in someone else’s drama and made it their own for no reason.

    It is almost like we are now conditioned to be outraged at almost everything. Humans have become more and more angry for no other reason than the fact that we are told to be. Don’t believe me? Grab a coffee at your local cafe, sit outside and take a look at those going past you. I guarantee you that most of them are looking for the next thing to be outraged about. So outraged they vent it on social media and let their followers of varying numbers be aware that they are outraged hoping that it then escalates to others feeling the same. There isn’t much I see about people being happy on social media.

    It seems we are not allowed to be happy these days. And this is where the conditioning comes in. The press has made you angry and outraged. Soap operas that we watch or listen to (I am an avid fan of Radio 4’s The Archers are full of outrage.

    It’s rare to find a storyline that is a happy one.

    There is lots of talk about square eyes and all of us looking at screens. These screens are full of information. Information literally at your finger-tips. You can access this all at the same time as drinking your morning coffee and taking a poo at the same time. It’s always around us.

    I now make a point of leaving my phone outside the toilet. The risk of dropping it has come close several times. I don’t want information when I am dropping off last night’s dinner. For me, toilet time is a time to reflect. It’s a skill that has been forgotten. It’s my “me time”. It’s a time for to cut the crap from my body and let me think.

    Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty to be outraged about like the recent shooting in an America school. That is a real problem. It’s just that the young generation, of which I do not envy one bit, don’t really have anything to moan about or at least shouldn’t be moaning but instead be living and enjoying the moment because before you know it, you’ll have real things to moan about.

    I am only scratching the surface of this current crisis the snowflake suffers on an hourly basis. I don’t actually think I have answered the question I was set by my editor. There is a whole book on the subject and I am sure someone is writing it now. So I’ll sign off with the words of Michael Palin from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life “Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in and try to live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.”

     

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  • Sydney’s Mardi Gras: colourful pride born from a night of violence<

    Forty years ago a group of gay and lesbian activists took to the Sydney streets for a night of celebration following a day of political protest, but police intervened, brutally beating dozens of partygoers. (more…)

  • OPINION | The “mother” of all questions, who is Tom Daley’s baby’s surrogate mother?

    It’s none of your god-damn business.

    On Valentine’s Day, Tom Daley and husband, Dustin Lance Black announced to the world that they were expecting a baby. The announcement from Dustin (on Instagram – how modern) simply said, “happy valentines, from ours to yours” and included an ultrasound picture of their child.

    It wasn’t long before questions about the child’s mother were being raised, both on social and mainstream media. LBC Radio Tweeted a question on whether it was sinister, while one of its presenters Shelagh Fogarty wrote, “No mention of the womb and the woman or women making this possible. Nice.”

    LBC ended up apologising for the tone of its question and deleting the Tweet.

    Katie Hopkins suggested that the baby was “bought” to fix their marriage…

    Even Richard Littlejohn, Daily Mail columnist whined, “We are not told her identity, where she lives, or even when the baby is due. She is merely the anonymous incubator.

    What an incredibly creepy line of questioning Rich.

    You know what Shelagh, Richard, Katie et al., it’s none of your business who the mother is or indeed whose sperm is used. And you know, it’s not that confusing. There are millions of children in the world without a mother, a father or either, but are raised in a variety of ways. As long as there is love, food, protection, warmth and education children will survive and grow up to be productive members of society.

    Don’t let facts get in the way…

    The simple truth is that we don’t know the facts. You don’t even know the first thing about their relationship. Only what they choose to share.

    Let’s pause for a moment and think about the invasive questions or assumptions being made, especially because these two parents happen to be male. With an opposite-sex couple would you ever dream of asking the parents to be, the intimate conception details – like: Did you use a sperm donor? Did you use IVF? How long did you try?

    Those questions are answers to be offered at the parents’ own will, not questions you have the right to ask.

    You have to ask yourself why on earth do you want to know. How is it going to affect your life? I’d wager… not a dot.

    For all we know, the mother didn’t want to be acknowledged. Maybe she wanted anonymity.

    For all we know, Tom and Dustin aren’t using a surrogate. It could be that they adopted an yet unborn child.

    Stop making your assumptions and just get on with your life.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OPINION | It may not be an obligation to learn LGBT history, but you really should

    OPINION | It may not be an obligation to learn LGBT history, but you really should

    Next year sees the 50th anniversary of The Stonewall Riots, which I’ve written about before here, yet still, there are some people out there who feel that the younger generation doesn’t need to care about the violent history of struggling for gay rights because they are too busy having a good time.

    “What they fail to understand is that they can have that “good time” because of countless LGBT+ men and women who have lived through hell and to this day still fight to protect the rights of the community.”

    Having a fluff piece opinion that completely misses the point of what Pride stands for is utterly disgraceful. And it saddens me that people who are only a few years younger than me have absolutely no clue about why that is. I have a huge amount of respect for the generations that gave me the rights I have today, and I also understand exactly why they would get angry at a group of gays who don’t show that level of respect or a willingness to learn about their own community’s history.

    They aren’t asking anyone to know every tiny little detail about gay history, but a basic knowledge of the big events certainly wouldn’t go amiss. Just to afford these brave men and women from all walks of life an iota of dignity and a thank you. An unsettling thing that I have been witness to, is when an older generation LGBT+ person is in a bar or club, and the younger gays either laugh at them, ignore them or worse, insult them and say they shouldn’t be there and even call them gross. We’re not asking you to hook up with them, we’re asking you to acknowledge them.

    Embed from Getty Images

    You don’t even need to make a song and dance about it, just be willing to talk to them if they talk to you. You never know, you could make a new friend. One has to remember that it was only in 1967 that homosexual acts were decriminalised in the UK. There are people alive today that lived through the fear that they could be arrested, simply for being who they are and to see younger people completely ignore that fact because they are too busy having fun must really hurt them.

    Men and women in the UK were some of the earliest to form well organised groups such as the Homosexual Law Reform Society, (founded in 1958) which surprisingly was started by many non-homosexual members, such as Sir Stephen Spender and MP Kenneth Younger and the Campaign for Homosexual Equality, an offshoot of the HLRS founded in Manchester in 1964 by more prominently homosexual people like Allan Horsfall and Colin Harvey. It was a direct result of these groups that the 1967 Sexual Offences Act was passed in the UK.

    I don’t pretend to fully understand what it was like because I didn’t live through it, but I have empathy for anyone that did and I’m always willing to be told something new. It helps me grow as a person. And you can be damn sure that next year I will be finding any events that honour and remember the events and people of Stonewall, and I’ll be there waving my rainbow flag with pride and with respect.

    “I’m not for one second saying we shouldn’t have fun, of course, we should.

    Enjoy life, go to the clubs, wear a pair of heels and a dress, sing bad karaoke, have a regrettable hookup at a Pride event, but please stop and think about why these things can be done, and learn from the past.”

    But I digress, why has this irked me so much? It seems like the social media generation has this shocking sense of entitlement, everything is very much “Me, Me, Me and Kylie Jenner” There’s such a disconnect from people, that real and horrifying events are forgotten because they weren’t a Twitter moment. But this stuff happened, and it’s time that they understood who people like Marsha P Johnson, Gilbert Baker and anyone else from that era are.

    I’m not here to belittle the people who subscribe to the social media way of thinking, it is kinda the way of the world now, but I feel that having such a selfish attitude, not only hurts them, it hurts a whole community. Now I’m not for one second saying we shouldn’t have fun, of course, we should. Enjoy life, go to the clubs, wear a pair of heels and a dress, sing bad karaoke, have a regrettable hookup at a Pride event, but please stop and think about why these things can be done, and learn from the past. There’s already this underlying feeling of separation within the community if we don’t look or act a certain way.

    We are ALL a part of this beautiful Rainbow Community, let’s treat everyone who is a part of it, or who is an ally, as a friend and learn from each other’s experiences. It’s not a crime to not know something, but it’s a wise choice to educate oneself by talking, being open and learning. It could be something that really opens your eyes to a world that you didn’t know about.

    Seek out the people who can enrich you, learn their story and tell them yours.

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