Merle Miller and the Piece That Launched a Thousand “It Gets Better” Video
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/10/merle-miller-and-the-piece-that-launched-1000-it-gets-better-videos.html
If your Facebook news feed looks anything like mine, you already know from jubilant friends that its the twentieth-fifth annual National Coming Out Day. It can be difficult to remember that, just forty years ago, homosexuality was still listed as a psychiatric disorder by the American Psychiatric Association. Open homophobia was the dominant mode, not only in bar-counter conversation, but in the pages of exalted liberal magazines.
I must have been nine or ten years old, began Joseph Epstein, in an essay in the September, 1970 issue of Harpers when my father, who had read me stories out of a childrens Bible, out of Robin Hood, out of the Brothers Grimm, who carefully instructed me never to say the word nigger, one night sat me down in our living room to explain that there were perverts in the world. What Joseph Epsteins father meant by perverts were men who were sexually attracted to other men. Epsteins Homo/hetero: The Struggle for Sexual Identity elaborates on the condition of those men cursed (in the medieval sense of having been struck by an unexplained injury, an extreme piece of evil luck) with such perversion.
Epstein went on to describe, with almost clinical drynessalthough maybe its just contemptthe increasingly large sector of American life inhabited by cultural swingers and intellectual fellow travelers, in which a man is esteemed according to the degree of his alienation from his country. The gays, he said, have achieved the highest possible degree of alienation; in this world where badges are judged wounds, wounds badges, homosexuals have a deservedly high place, earning a widespread kind of jealousy of this elite state.
Continuing on this theme of the gays special fortunedont go thinking that Epstein wanted homosexuality to be illegal; those laws were barbarous, not to say illogicalEpstein presents the sexual simplicity of the homosexual lifestyle, as described by the hairdresser of a lady friend of mine. (Elliot, the hairdresser, told Epstein that he did not like a lot of talk leading up to sex: in a homosexual bar, he said, you could walk up to a man and say, You want to fuck? Lets go to my place. Simple.)
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