Tagged: cock

Colin Craig needs to stop obsessing about gay sex

Here we go again:  Colin Craig’s insisting that homosexuality is a choice.  Previously, when asked in clear, simple terms, he stated unequivocally that he, himself, could “choose” to be gay.

Now, in a more muddled fashion, he’s testified before a Select Committee that

[Homosexuality is] a choice influenced by a number of things including genetics.

Interesting.

More interesting:

Yes, we are discriminating between relationships.

Why interesting?  Because of a long-standing meme used by anti-gay rights activists to pretend that they’re not gigantic bigots:  the pretend division between being gay and acting gay.

You’ve heard the line before:  “we hate the sin, not the sinner.”

But let’s consider the logical focus of that statement, and Craig’s above:  it’s on the sex.  The couple-hood.  The relationship.  These people don’t care about one-guy-who-personally-and-in-his-own-time-likes-other-guys – no no no, it’s all about two-guys-doing-things-together.

Colin Craig’s real problem, the reason he thinks he himself could totally choose to be gay, is because he’s part of a conservative movement which is completely fixated on the cock.

But what about the lesbians???? you may cry, plaintively.  Well, let’s put Colin Craig’s comment into context (with bonus alliteration!):

We are saying that marriage between a man and a woman is recognised. We are saying that a relationship between a man and a man, for example, goes down the path of a civil union

Was it really a more efficient use of breath to say “between a man and a man, for example” than to say “between two men or two women”?  Not really.  Now, if it were someone else talking, you might argue that they’re trying to break down biological essentialism, cis-normativity and the gender binary and when they say “for example” it’s because there are literally a dozen other sex/gender configurations of relationship that they could theoretically include.

Colin Craig … probably isn’t trying to break down biological essentialism, cis-normativity and the gender binary.

So why go straight to man-on-man matrimony?  Why is that the “example” he lists out of the two (to him) possible options?

Because Colin Craig is fixated on the cock.

Colin Craig’s statement – once again, that he himself could totally “choose” to be gay – depends on this fixation.  Because if you think of homosexual men as being normal human beings, who feel and love and are attracted to each other and go out on dates and play footsie under the table and cuddle and buy each other flowers or craft beer or power tools or just have super-hot one-night stands … well then you’d find the idea of “choosing” to be oriented towards liking other guys ridiculous.

On the other hand, if you think of homosexual men purely in terms of being people-with-cocks who do naughty things with other people-with-cocks … then sure, you could honestly labour under the illusion that homosexuality is a “choice”.  Because you could totally suck another guy’s cock if you really had to.  It wouldn’t be enjoyable, it wouldn’t be passionate, it wouldn’t be erotic to you, but you literally have the physical capacity to open your mouth and place it over a cock.

That’s what “being homosexual” means to Colin Craig.  Cock.

The reason this just makes me laugh, though?  Is that this attitude comes from the people who want to dictate what love is.  Who want to have dibs on “love” and “specialness” and “caring” and “committed”.  Yet they so lack empathy for their fellow human beings that they sincerely believe the only thing that “makes” a person say “I’m gay” is that they occasionally, for no actual reason, want to get nasty with someone who has the same junk as them.

It makes you wonder, the same way you have to wonder when religious fundamentalists start saying things like “if we don’t have prayer in schools, everyone will turn into a serial killer.”  Is that really all that’s stopping you?  God (though please note how carefully our homegrown fundies avoid mentioning Him in their arguments) sitting up there saying “DON’T SUCK COCK” is the only reason you’re not hanging out in gay bars wearing a t-shirt saying “Do me”?

This is the point where some people would make the usual jokes about “what is Craig hiding” and “how long before he gets caught foot-tapping in a public loo”.  But I don’t assume Colin Craig is secretly gay.  I assume he’s just so fucking soulless that he really doesn’t understand human emotion.  He’s just going through the motions of what he’s been told is “normal”.  And seeing that “normal” being changed by the evolution of society?  Fucking terrifies him.

On the other hand, he could just be a hateful troll whose continuing “credibility” in the eyes of our media establishment is one of the reasons people have stopped buying newspapers.

 

Way to dispel that “condescending Papa Bear jackass” rep, Chris

It’s okay, ladies, we can stop now.

We can put down our keyboards and go back to our kitchens, tie a picture-perfect bow in our polka-dot pinnies, and get to baking some cookies to reward a man who truly deserves them.

You see, we were wrong about Chris Trotter.

He’s a deep, sensitive man with a luxuriant moustache that we are too silly to admire properly.  His boner, I have heard tell, is of tremendous proportions as befits a noble, wide-stanced member of the sainted dinosauria.

He wrote us a song, you see.  Before many of we poor ignorant “confident young women” were even born, he wrote us a song about how much his feelings are actually the most important thing to focus on when we fight (in an appropriately timid fashion) for the right to control our fertility.

On a grey afternoon,
In an old waiting-room
He said: “In this circumstance
She’s a fifty-fifty chance.”
On a grey afternoon.

And I don’t know how she feels.
And I can’t know how she feels.
But I want her to know
That I feel for her, oh
I want her to know that I feel.

What Chris Trotter wants us all to know, comradettes, is that he and his verdant moustache care about us.

Isn’t that enough, really?

But it’s not enough for Chris.  Saintly, magnanimous, divine-manhood-bearing idol that he is, he has also taken precious time out of his grooming schedule to write up a history of abortion reform in New Zealand.  Truly, consider what we might have done, sistren, without this great service.  Surely it is not becoming a lady to access the unfettered “Google” and subject herself to all manner of strange, thought-provoking search results in a selfish, egomaniacal quest to Educate Herself.

We never need educate ourselves so long as Chris, moustache at his side, is there to tell us about the history of a movement we fancy to call “ours”.

Do you think his great work ends there?

No, gentle acolytes.  Chris also lets us know exactly how things stand right now – praise him!  For without such cogent analysis to hand some of our number may have had to sacrifice dignity, self-respect, and honour by straying out of our father’s or husband’s doors to explore the World Outside for ourselves, to sully our soft, pale hands with the filth and degradation of Modern Politics.

Yet still he is not satisfied in his quest to make sweet, romantic intellectual love to our brains.  He gives us the way forward, as only an artistic yet acutely-honed political mind can.

Yes, my sisters.  We must focus group.  We must conduct market research, for so it has always been done when people alienated from the means of production and denied their fair share of the nation’s wealth desire to learn more about what they themselves are thinking.  Following in the footsteps of Kate Sheppard, we shall employ public relations consultants to tell us what to do.

But not yet, neonates.  No, now is not the time, for it would go against the timetable laid out for us by the tragically unbearded Messiah before us.  We must wait.  I know there are those of you out there, you foul-mouthed and uncouth so-called “women” who may cry “What convenience, comrade, that you insist our revolution wait until after this coming, perhaps pivotal, election!”

I do wish you would not say “revolution”, my pitiable ones.  It is not seemly.

I merely beseech you.  Look to the moustache.  It could not lead us astray, for truly, above all else, it wants us to know that it has a lot of feelings.

There’s only one reason to care about breast cancer!

And guess what, NZGirl* and others, it’s not because boobs are great!

Boobs are great.

But that’s seriously not the fucking point.

Likewise, I may very well love my partner’s cock, but the reason I will ensure he gets his prostate checked is not because I would miss his cock.**  It’s because cancer is bad and can be fatal and I don’t need to justify my concern or “sell” it to anyone by proclaiming that we should Save Fellatio and Get The Boys Out For The Boys and You Shove A Finger Up There Or I Will!

Scuba Nurse has done a most excellent, hard-hitting, [trigger warning for probably NSFW images and discussion of cancer] post about the realities of breast cancer.

Bet you none of those pics make it onto NZGirl’s page of “pretty titties”.

~

For bonus fail, NZGirl’s stunning strategy to stop their pages being hijacked by bullies, stalkers and vengeful exes is a simple “you must agree to our terms and conditions” button.  How quaint.***

For BONUS bonus fail, the terms and conditions likewise notes:

For every 50 completed, qualifying entries of boobs submitted to the nzgirl “Our favourite: Breasts” campaign, nzgirl agrees to donate $1000 to breast cancer research up to a maximum pledge of $5000 (or 250 pairs).

Because when you’re “mobilising” people to “awareness” of breast cancer, you definitely want to assume that everyone’s breasts come in pairs.

~

*Truly, never has the notion of referring to grown women as “girls” and pretending it’s playful and fun instead of infantilising been better crystallized for me.

**Or lament cock-related complications from prostate cancer.

***One can only assume no one on the NZGirl staff has ever downloaded or installed any piece of software ever.