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  • COLUMN | Sorry, Did You Really Mean To Say That?

    I was talking with a friend the other day, and something smacked me in the face that, in some ways, caught me off guard. (And no, it wasn’t anything rude – mores the pity).

    She said that comments were being made about her through social media by an ex who was, by all account, saying things that were untrue and generally being a nasty piece of work (that was me being polite). However, it got me thinking about why someone, anyone, would say such things when they hadn’t be hurt or attacked, and I doubt very much that they would repeat the comments in the “real world”.

    Every day, both via that lovely medium of social media, and in the real world we say things that, quite often, we don’t actually mean or truly understand what they mean.

    In the online world (or t’intenet as I call it) for example, “trolls” stalk the social media lands, looking for innocent (or not so) recipients to throw flippant comments at. Why would anyone do that? In the real world you don’t do that. (Or maybe that’s a sport I didn’t do when I skipped sports at school?). Anyone deliberately looking for someone to hurl abuse at would, (I hope) quickly find themselves in trouble with either the police or decent human beings. But online, that doesn’t seem to happen. People of all walks of life seem to produce comments and statements that they often don’t truly understand or even acknowledge the impact of.

    Remember when Justin Bieber was being a little princess (I would say that to his face) and all of a sudden death threats were being posted online and all sorts of really nasty comments. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not his biggest fan, but really? Death threats? He’s a pop star not a mass murderer or war criminal… and besides, if he dies that hot body dies with him (my mind wonders far too much).

    Is “trolling”, as its known, something new? Or is this just another way for people to make themselves seem big, make big statements then walk away from their responsibilities as if it means nothing. In the real world we see this sort of thing it all the time. Parents abandoning kids; drivers leaving the scene of a car accident; teenagers not admitting to smoking to their parents when they stink of it; dating someone and dropping them via text, the list goes on and on.

    If you’re a teenager and rebelling against your mum for smoking then stand up and be counted. Yeah I smoked, yeah it was horrible, no I won’t be doing it again. I did it with my parents, got shouted at but got respected for taking ownership of my “behaviour” and choices. Just as today, If I do something wrong I’ll say that I have. Just as if I make a decision, I won’t hide from it; I’ll stand up and be counted for it. But then, I’m always being told that I’m a little bit weird
    In the gay community especially trolls will sit online in the chat rooms and spout their poison for any and all reasons that happen to come up that day. I remember being on one particular chat room and watching a “troll fight” unravel on my screen between 2 ‘users’ that by all accounts should have better things to do with their time. To this day I have no idea what started the ‘fight’ and I don’t think even they know. Again, would they do it in real life? Maybe they would, I’ve seen a fair few ‘cat fights’ start in exactly that way.

    But what would happen if we all really did understand and truly mean what we say and do? What would the world be like if every word or action produced by us was meant to be and understood by us? Would the world be a better place? Would trolling still go on online? Or would any form of online trolling simply be seen as the effect of being annoying or controversial? Defending as opposed to attacking.

    Or would the world just be filled with walking dictionaries where everything is “acceptable in accordance with an agreed parameter” and everyone simply didn’t say anything to each other as it’s much simpler to just keep shtum. Or would it be the nicer place that we all aspire for? Would arguments about gay rights actually have counter arguments that state the truth and not some deep repressed fear or misunderstanding? Would dating on the scene actually go back to the good old days of dating when a date was exactly that, and not a “let’s be Bfs right away” which it seems to be at the moment.

    Who knows, I suspect that if we want the ability to say what we want, when we want it and to whomever we want we have to take the bad with the good. And again, if we want to be “free” people then we have to allow the people to say what they feel, not what they mean.

  • UK Surrogacy Law And The Need For Change

    In this article, being our last in our series on surrogacy, we round up with a summary of issues to be alive to, when considering surrogacy as the correct option for parenthood.

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  • Eurovision Unveils Butterfly Logo

    We’re gearing up here at TGUK HQ for Eurovision 2013. With Bonnie burning up in the wings we’re sure this year’s contest will be fair, fun and fabulously Swedish.

    Eurovision 2013

    Ok sarcasm aside about the fair bit, we’re quite taken with this year’s logo, which takes the shape of a rather beautiful butterfly.

    So where’s the idea from? Well the lovely peeps at Eurovision.TV have said:

    ‘Eurovision Song Contest is a shared project. It unites millions of people. In the east, west, north and south. Beyond all the glitter, there is a thought. A big idea that is 100% relevant for Public Service. It’s about togetherness, diversity and happiness. Eurovision Song Contest might appear as a trivial matter. But a trivial matter that engages over one hundred million people of all ages in more than 40 countries all over the world. And today science knows that sometimes small matters can start powerful and big movements. This phenomenon is called ”The Butterfly Effect”. A flap from one butterfly can – at least in theory – start a hurricane. Butterflies have one common name, but exist in thousands of different shapes and colours. Just like the Eurovision Song Contest, one strong identity with a rich national diversitiesy [sic]. Working together, we can achieve anything – We are one.

    Ah, isn’t it beautiful!!

    So Eurovision is just over a month away, what will you be doing for it?

  • THEATRE REVIEW | Children Of The Sun

    ★★★ | Children Of The Sun

    A Maxim Gorky classic play, adapted by Andrew Upton, is a deep and philosophically driven piece set during a cholera epidemic, which works on many significant levels.

    On the surface its comedic approach could be mistaken as a light hearted play, but below the surface lies a distinct feeling of danger – a narrative of fear which is explored through many conversations.

    Protasov is longing to find the answer to all of life’s mysteries through scientific experimentation and research. He believes that the quest of life will be answered through science so he becomes immersed in his own ignorance; failing to acknowledge the significance of what is happening around him.

    There is a superb collective of talent in this adaptation, with strong gestural performances and moments of intensity which breaks up the performance, constantly focussing it back to the deeper questions.

    The stage set is the perfect backbone to the story, with a commendable attention to detail and realistic nature which helps one to engage on an additional level. Indeed the National Theatre is one of my all time favourite destinations, with its strong Brutalist architecture just asking for performance and drama. This is exactly what is delivered with ‘Children of the Sun’. A though-provoking and engaging play, highly recommended.

    Treat yourself to some theatre this month at the National Theatre. Tickets range from £12-34 and Children of the Sun is on until Sunday 14th July 2013.

    www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

  • COLUMN | I Don’t Want To Ride My Bicycle

    I have an oddity to confess. No, not that one. This one is quite sanitary. I can’t ride a bike. If I tell people this they look at me gone out like I’ve just said I’m a hermaphrodite or I can’t write my own name.

    It’s considered, by most people, to be decidedly odd. I personally think that riding a bike is even odder. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I think its witchcraft.

    I’ve always been a bit clumsy. I trip over a lot, am prone to bumping into things and am generally uncoordinated. I have mismatched eyes. Not like David Bowie, a green and a brown one, but I have one very long sighted one and one almost normal eye. The first time an optician noted this when I went for an eye test aged 12, he asked me if I was especially clumsy and accident prone. My mother nodded eagerly, finally latching onto to a diagnosis to explain my bizarre mishaps. Recently an optician asked me if I wore my glasses to drive. When I told her I didn’t drive, I’m sure it wasn’t just my imagination that made me see a look of relief wash over her.

    I also have terrible balance. I’m rubbish at standing on one leg (I practice often), could never master stilt walking or roller skating as a child and the very thought of ice skating or skiing gives me an icy chill and a vision of plaster of Paris and traction. I get terrible travel sickness and have been known to run out of films with wobbly camcorder type shots, green faced. If I try to send text messages in a moving car I start to feel dizzy and throw up. I have to look away when a fast moving train goes by or I start to spin and I never liked roundabouts or fairground rides that spin round. I once spent a whole evening in bed with a bucket beside me after an ill advised go on the Waltzers aged 7.

    These are my excuses for not mastering the art of staying upright on a bicycle. I had the usual sit in and push along cars as a toddler, progressed to the tricycle then onto the little bike with stabilisers. Then the problems began. My father developed a permanent frown and a mouth full of tightly gritted teeth as we repeatedly tried to get me to stay aloft a bike without 4 wheels. He’d push me along, let go and I’d fall off. This went on ad-nauseum, usually until I trooped off home in a strop, abandoning the bicycle with a wobbly bottom lip and a lot of bruises.

    I’m not one for perseverance. “I’ve tried it once and didn’t like it” or “If at first you don’t succeed then give the thing up as a bad job and avoid ever trying again” could well be ideal mottos for me. The shiny bicycle which my dad had bought second hand and lovingly restored stayed in the shed until we sold it and I spent the money on books. You know where you are with books (just don’t ask me to balance one on my head).

    To be honest, I don’t feel the need to justify my inability to balance on a bike. I look at people going past on them and am startled by what a weird thing it is to do. Surely it’s some kind of sorcery? These people must have magic powers. Balancing on two wheels is nonsensical.

    I knew I was on to a loser when attempting to learn to drive my instructor said to me on my first lesson: “It’s much like riding a bike” followed not long after by “You can’t ride a bike? What! How strange”

    I’m happy to walk, thanks.

  • COMMENT | A Life Of Cocaine Or Cake?

    Even though we may look at a person’s habit or behaviour and not agree with their chosen vice, who are we to judge?

    A vice is just like facial features, we all have them. Whilst some may bite their nails down until they bleed, others enjoy cigarettes and produce smoke like a house on fire. Surely we should appreciate each others differences and just learn to not force our views on others?

From a young age my Nan was an important person in shaping my character. Both my parents smoked and my Nan would provide a selection of leaflets to slowly give them. How can anyone refuse advice on smoking from a cute five-year-old? Either way, it worked. My Nan had judged my parents vice and through the use of children eventually got them to quit.

    My Nan also taught me about addiction to drugs and would always set up a scene where a ‘friend’ was in the school toilet telling me to smoke some marijuana and I would politely repeat – “No thank you. Please make your own decisions but I refuse”. As I got older it turned into the pub toilets and at eighteen she still made me repeat my refusal to ensure I had practised enough and wouldn’t become addicted to drugs.

    “I want to be president someday, so I have not smoked marijuana. I ate a brownie once. At a party in college. It was kind of indescribable really. I felt like I was floating. It turns out that there wasn’t any marijuana in it, it was just an insanely good brownie”

    – Leslie Knope.

    Whilst enjoying the scene of London, a friend soon became bored of weekends following the same routine and meeting the same faces and made the executive decision to move away towards a different atmosphere. I am non-judgmental and also a bit ‘happy-go-lucky’ when it comes down to making changes and adapting.

    Enjoying the drinks and music of somewhere new I disappeared to a toilet to relieve my child sized bladder. During this, a gentleman climbed over the locked door, pulled a small bag of cocaine out of his pocket and offered me some. I was not down for this, I once sniffed pepper to sneeze like in a Tom and Jerry sketch. It made me nose itch and I wanted to cry for days after from the burning feeling. With this in the back of my mind, I repeated my Nan’s line and proceeded to make line for the bar and back to the comfort of my friend.

My friend brushed off the incident and pointed out that most of the people attracted to the club in question where there for the recreational use of drugs. I then made my own executive decision to remove myself from the social circle and opted for an addiction of comedy shows and cake.

    I embraced a new life being single and looking for cake whilst my friend enjoyed the rush of drugs. He recently admitted his problem with an addiction that seemed fun at the time. It makes me wonder if I would have achieved everything positive in my life if I had crumbled in the toilet cubicle and said ‘yes’.

    My point is, who are we to judge the vices others place upon themselves when we all have our own that we either know and enjoy or are unaware of?

     

    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.

  • 5 More Grindr Fails

    We love these. In fact we can’t get enough of the words people will use to get a little bit of grinding in their life.

    Grindr doesn’t have spell check, so make sure you carry an Oxford Dictionary around with you at all times. Don’t want to look stupid do we?

    You’re right the economy does suck right now.

    The old romantic approach eh? How’s that working out for you?

    Letting him down gently. Do you get the feeling he was setting this one up for a fall with the leading question: ‘Ever play in the park’

    Another one on a Grindr Loop…

  • COMMENT | Thatcher’s Legacy: The 28ers: The Silent Generation

    As a child of the eighties, I thought Maggie cut a rather marvellous figure, sailing through the decade with her shoulder power-pads, furs and that bulletproof hair – lacquered to within an inch of its existence.

    I was far too young to understand the political ramifications of her tenure: the hardship that fell upon millions in towns where industry was decimated, the rights to buy, or the silencing of a generation’s gays – instead as I played, building my own Lego empire in front of the Beeb’s 6 o’clock news I saw this rather robust and resilient red-lipped woman disembark the steps of yet another 747, shake the hands of craggy leaders around the world and uttering the iconic words ‘Vanity, vanity vanity. ‘ I thought, looking up from my empire construction, ‘this is a woman I should take note of.’

    When Section 28 was introduced I was a pre-teen. What could it possible mean to an eight year old boy, who preferred theatre and designing clothes for Barbie?

    In fact if asked what Section 28 was, I’m sure I would have pointed at the largely ignored volumes of red ultra-bound Britannica Children’s Encyclopaedias my mother had purchased, ‘at great expense’ she constantly reminds us, for the education of her offspring.

    However Section 28 lived on much longer than Thatcher’s premiership. In fact it wouldn’t be repealed until I was 21 – out of school and out of the closet.

    I was unaware that in the mid nineties sitting in a classroom at my north London comprehensive for a PSR lesson (yes that’s Personal Social Responsibility) I would be made to feel dirty, embarrassed and illegal.

    It was 1995. Six years away from the repeal of Section 28. Section 28 of the Local Government Act, prohibited the promotion of homosexuality in schools. It was enacted in 1988.

    Somewhere in among ‘Energy Saving’ and ‘Litter Picking’, Homosexuality was brought up by the teacher, who promptly said: “We can’t talk about this – but one in ten people are gay, that means at least two people in this class room will be gay’ and with that sword-swipe of a statement turned his back on the room as hands started to raise and a united ‘eurgggh’ sound resounded. All eyes it felt, fell on me.

    Turning a shade of Maggie’s Lips, I felt strangled. The teacher refused to say anymore in fear of having a legal case brought against him.

    Where was the explanation of homosexuality?

    Where were the ‘It’s Ok To Be Gay’ badges?

    The Tote Bags of Equality?

    The “So You Think You’re Gay” pamphlets?

    In that moment I became the love that dare not speak it’s name, too risky and illicit to talk about. Now that I write that down, it feels sexy and very Jilly Cooper, but at the time my head was exploding with questions, with the need to be reassured, to be rescued from the looming, baying mob, who were suspiciously eyeing up their classmates to see which one was the homo. I had my mark. My path was set.

    So what are the long-term effects of Maggie’s rule to my illicit generation?

    It’s hard to say.

    Had the children of the 80s and 90s been able to talk more freely of their sexuality would we be more politically focussed rather than a numbed number? Aren’t we a little guilty for using Pride as an excuse to drink and meet with friends to commiserate times past? Rather than the political statement it was intended? Aren’t we guilty of being a little bit apathetic when it comes to rallies and demonstrations?

    Do we feel stymied by our formative years? We are proud, but not with a capital P.

    I recently attended an Anti-Gay Marriage rally in Trafalgar Square. The ‘Pro’s’ far outweighed by the ‘Anti’s’ – but as I glanced around my fellow queers and allies, I wondered where were my generation?

    It felt all these people were 5 to 10 years older or younger than me. They were far more politically charged.

    Why is it that the 80’s babies aren’t fighting as hard as those born in the 70s or 60s? Maybe it’s because our predecessors had their milk taken away by mother Maggie. Is their political protesting born out of some sort of fight for survival?

    Maybe they are the generation that could actually understand the implications of Section 28 and remember the times where homosexuality was still illegal.

    I sit and talk to my peers about the passing of the Iron Lady and we shrug. Muted. Nonplussed by it all, but feel nostalgic as we watch our childhood play out in the nightly news – reruns of Maggie – once again, dressed in cobalt blue power suits, surrounded by aids and bodyguards blazing through international conferences or sat atop a tank blasting cannons into a field.

    Meanwhile students, who weren’t even twinkles in their parents’ eyes at the time of her resignation rejoice at her passing, while the generation above sneer and remember songs by Billy Bragg and Morrisey.

     

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

     

  • FILM REVIEW | I’m So Excited

    I am a huge fan of Pedro Almodovar, and have loved every one of his films that I’ve seen. That is, until now.

    The title of his latest movie might be I’m So Excited but it left me singularly unexcited and unenthusiastic. I’ve never been so disengaged from an Almodovar film in my life and I’m still trying to work out what went wrong and why I found it so dreary. Was it the stilted dialogue, the wooden acting (even from Antonio Banderas and Penelope Cruz, who put in a couple of cameos), or the implausible storyline? Well, to be honest, most Almodovar movies have somewhat implausible and surreal plots, and that’s never bothered me before. In fact, that’s part of their charm.

    The film is billed as a comedy, but, apart from a few isolated one liners, I found it distinctly unfunny. Maybe the humour was dissipated by my having to read the subtitles (I don’t speak Spanish), but I’ve never found language to be a bar in previous Almodovar movies. The fact that the majority of this movie takes place within the confines of the business section and cockpit of a plane certainly doesn’t help, and, because of this, nowhere is there the kind of visual richness normally experienced in one of his movies. In addition, I found the camp antics and stereotypical behaviour of the all gay air stewards rather insulting. Haven’t we moved on from this kind of camperie? Honestly they could have been played by Liberace, Larry Grayson and John Inman and you wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

    I’m guessing the film is an allegory, the plane being a metaphor for the disastrous Spanish economy, the somnolent economy class passengers being representative of the majority of the populace, who are kept in the dark about what’s going on, whilst the ruling classes, in business class, run around like headless chickens, but I could be wrong and, quite honestly, I don’t really care. It is just one big self-indulgent bore, naïve and badly executed. Unless you’re particularly partial to watching undragged up drag queens mime to the Pointer Sisters, then I’d say avoid.

    Available to buy / view on: Amazon | Amazon Prime | iTunes

     

  • GMFA Faces Uncertain Future After Funding Cuts

    GMFA Faces Uncertain Future After Funding Cuts

    As Sexual Health becomes the focus of a new programme on Channel 4 tonight, one of UK’s leading gay health charities, GMFA looks set to be losing its funding, leaving it with an uncertain future.

    Pinknews is reporting that GMFA, which was founded in 1992, will no longer receive funding for its London HIV Information Services after being notified that funding had been cut from the Pan-London HIV Prevention Programme, which is funded by the NHS.

    Services affected will be GMFA’s websites and the sex and health magazine, FS – as well as Terrence Higgins Trust press advertising campaigns.

    GMFA’s Head of Programmes, Matthew Hodson, said:

    “I am genuinely shocked and appalled by these decisions. I fail to understand the thinking behind it. There are more gay men living with HIV in London than anywhere else in the UK, and the numbers continue to rise.

    “Considering the size of London’s gay population, there is an urgent need for broad based campaigns and information resources, which are able to reach 1,000s of men. All of the work that is continuing to be funded can at best only reach a fraction of London’s gay population, and these cuts comes at a time when the need to raise awareness is higher than ever.”

    Cary James, Head of Health Improvement Programmes at Terrence Higgins Trust, said:

    “This kind of large-scale cut to HIV prevention is always risky, but in areas of high prevalence it is positively short-sighted. The capital has by far the highest level of HIV in the UK. Cutting prevention services here will lead to an increase in new infections, each of which incurs a lifetime treatment cost to the NHS of anywhere up to £350,000. We are doing everything we can to fill the gaps, but without sustained investment in city-wide prevention work we and our partner organisations will be fighting with one arm tied behind our back.”

    The cuts come at a time where new HIV infections amongst gay men are at an all time high. Higher than the levels recorded in the 1980s.

    56 Dean Street, The Gay UK’s official sexual health partners are the focus of a brand new programme tonight on Channel 4. The documentary follows the team at London’s busiest sexual health clinic.

  • Matt Damon Looks Hot For New Film Elysium

    42-Year-Old actor, Matt Damon looks hot as Entertainment Weekly unveils semi-naked pictures from new movie Elysium.

    Matt Damon has certainly hit the gym of late – displaying his rock hard abs in the forthcoming sci-fi movie Elysium.

    Speaking to Entertainment Weekly, about his character Max, Matt said: “We wanted him to look a certain way so I had to keep up a workout regimen,”

    This was made even more necessary by the addition of the “hulk-suit,” a technologically advanced exoskeleton that makes Damon’s character stronger and faster. While the rig is meant to enhance Max’s physical capabilities, in real life, it meant Damon had to work out even more. “It’s kind of like wearing one of those old Bo Jackson weight vests,” says Damon. “It’s really insidious trying to carry extra weight even if you’re in shape. You just really need a pretty strong core or you can get injured pretty easily, particularly at my age.”

    Elysium, a cerebral sci-fi action film from Neill Blomkamp, the man behind 2009′s extra-terrestrial apartheid hit District 9 is out this August

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