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Vice Blog

NEW YORK - I'D RATHER FIGHT THAN SWISH

Back before everyone had to get used to all their gay neighbors being here and queer, homo culture was a whole lot cooler. We aren't saying it's awesome that the constant threat of social ruin and having the shit kicked out of you by rednecks kept all but the toughest and sharpest gays from flying the flag, but, as with punk, it made for a better underground. Everybody knew they were in for the long haul, so instead of having "edgy" sex columnists crying about how they can't get married in every state you had genuine acid-tongues like Gore Vidal going balls-out and calling William Buckley a crypto-fascist so many times that he threatened to deck him on national TV.

The same is true for sense of humor. Whereas nowadays the only break you get from all the sweatered sincerity is an occasional bout of minstrely Will & Grace histrionics, there was once a time when queer was pretty much a byword for "consistently hilarious guy," and "drag queen" meant "hope you can keep up with a mammoth intake of every drug yet created and riffing so shrill and profoundly nasty it'll lead somebody to have an abortion." We stumbled into Drag Karoake Night a couple weeks ago and three of the four "queens" there were wearing jeans, New Balance sneaks, and hoodies while timidly mumbling their way through the same Jessica Simpson ballad. Um, what exactly is considered regal about an awkward female college student who just got back from a jog?

And all this this doesn't just apply to the openly gay either--who was the last closet-case you could reasonably qualify as "doomy"? Rock Hudson? Maaaybe River Phoenix? In any case it's been a while. Sure, there are still a few 'mos out there with teeth and laffs, like Bruce Labruce and Butt magazine and J.D. from LeTigre/New England Roses, but it's nothing like the glory days.

Don't believe us? Check out this little goldmine and tell us with a straight face that a gay novelty label could exist is this day and age hauling out joke songs like these without cramming in some lame verse about Bush or covering the whole sleeve with a sticker explaining postmodern pastiche. When you're done with the tunes (BTW, notice in the Rodney Dangerfield interview how he carefully avoids claiming he didn't write "Stanley the Manly Transvestite"?), be sure to check out all the shit in the gay zinealog they were found in, and wrap your mind around an era of three-dimensional queers into Genet and open pederasty. Also, nice to see where A Certain Ratio got the idea for their album art.