They sip lesbian drinking
water from lesbian cups.
Their lesbian ovens yield lesbian pot pies stuffed with
lesbian chicken chunks.
The lesbian nightly news
shows lesbian helicopters rescuing lesbian war victims.
Ooohh...that's a whole
lotta lesbians.
WHAT'S WITH ALL THE LESBIANS?
They sprouted everywhere
like a sudden case of the hives.
Portland is the Lesbian
San Francisco, no doubt. At this juncture, I'd reckon
that dykes outnumber fags in P-Town by ten to one.
It's like the Hundredth
Monkey. We've reached critical mass. We've reached the
Hundredth Lesbian.
Can we, as a country,
all agree to tone down the lesbianism just a little
bit? We've reached our lesbian quota, I'm sure. I think
we already have enough lesbians, and any more would
be overkill.
AT A LESBIAN COFFEEHOUSE
near 28th and E. Burnside,
a lesbian magazine talks about high colonics and nutritional
empowerment and bedwetting support groups and candle-making
seminars and dry lesbian oatmeal scones. You know--lesbian
stuff.
Nearby, a group (officially,
it's called a "bevy") of four lesbians huddles together
near a bus stop in the cold, rainy, patriarchal mist.
Three chunker dogs and one cornstalk girl. They bear
all the visual trappings of latter-day alterna-lesbos:
short, sloppy "bed-head" haircuts dyed platinum blonde
or flaming pink, facial piercings, dirty sneakers, and
tribally tattooed bellies and ass cracks exposed.
When I heard the phrase
"lesbian identity" float from one of their mouths into
the air, I decided to seize it.
I boldly approach the
bevy of lesbians.
"What's with all the
lesbians? I mean, you guys are everywhere! What's
going on with that?"
The lesbian seems shocked
by my apparent bigotry. "I don't like putting labels
on myself," says the lesbian closest to me with a look
of animal wariness.
"But you just used the
phrase 'lesbian identity'!" I say. "Isn't that a label?"
The lesbians seem flabbergasted
by my rudeness.
"What you're doing is
very uncool," says the four's spokesperson.
A bus pulls up and the
lesbians embark upon it. They say nothing to me as they
leave. I asked an actual group of lesbians what was
with all the lesbians, and they wouldn't tell me. They
didn't want me to know. Or perhaps they don't know,
either.
TWENTY YEARS AGO
in a suburban Philly
garage, an
all-girl punk-rock band pounds out snotty covers of
Ramones and Blondie songs. Emily and Vicki are pretty
bottle-blondes who play guitar and bass, respectively.
Their drummer, Becky, is a lesbian. Becky wears a spiky
brown mullet and is always trying to get in Emily and
Vicki's pants. But these girls are natural-born heterosexuals
and are repulsed by Becky's advances. We all have a
cruel, jolly laugh at Becky's expense regarding her
compulsive sexual perversion. Men did not find Becky
attractive, so she became what's known as a lesbian-by-necessity.
Rumor spreads that Becky is that rarest of creatures--a
girl who is sexually attracted to other girls.
Twenty years later, all
the girls are like Becky. Rare is the girl who hasn't
licked another girl's snapper.
Twenty years ago, male
homosexuals were all over pop culture, while lesbians
were the Silent Homos. Flamboyant butt-jockeys such
as the Village People, Boy George, and Disco Tex were
shaking their hairy tushies all over the place, but
rare was the mainstream lesbo.
But amid AIDS wreckage
and a general cultural devaluation of maleness, the
gay male has been buried like an anal gopher. You don't
even see male fags anymore. Well, maybe once in a blue
moon. A blue, faggy moon.
Except for the not-having-vaginas-and-breasts
part, male fags were able to capture everything that
made being a woman interesting. They possessed all the
skittish drama which is one of the few redeeming qualities
of being a female.
That has all been replaced
by the dry moralism of cardboard dykes, who hate everything
that's male but are as boring as the most boring males.
"Can we, as a country,
all agree to tone down
the lesbianism just a little bit?"
Back in those fag-friendly
days, lesbianism seemed ugly--womanhood stripped of
everything that made womanhood attractive or alluring.
Chick-on-chick pussy-eating
was the sole reserve of women who looked like men who
couldn't get women. It was a lesbianism of the lonely
hearts' club and the nuns' convent. A lesbianism of
ugly, boyish women whose vaginas were not deemed desirable
enough in which to spill seed.
SO WHAT CHANGED?
It was quite simple, really.
It followed roughly this
pattern:
1) Women said they wanted
sensitive men.
When the men turned into
women, the women turned to other women. That's the history
of Lesbianism's New Wave in a tiny lesbian nutshell.
But it isn't entirely
the ladies' fault. Not entirely. The fact that the American
male is terrifyingly inept in the ol' sack played a
part as well. American men have no finesse. No game.
They're dumb, drooling, easily excitable hairy apemen
who'd turn me into a dyke if I were a chick.
Dykes are made, not born.
A woman's physiology is constructed to enjoy a thorough
ramming by a hard, warm, REAL tool rather than a cold
rubber instrument or a girl's wet tongue.
When men become men again,
lesbianism will evaporate like so many wet spots in
the morning sun.
I think that Dyke Chic
will peter out, and a lot of women are going to be embarrassed.
They'll have a lot of explaining to do to their grandchildren.
I've made it a policy
not to be with any more chicks who've had lesbian experiences.
C'mon, fellas, let's
wield the powerful force of SHAME. Let's make them feel
ashamed about being lezzies. Let them feel as if there's
something lacking in their reproductive desirability.
Let them feel as if their DNA is misfiring. Treat them
like freaks of nature. Evolutionary mistakes. Act like
the daddy you were born to be and scold your little
girl. The day will come when they wish they'd kept their
panties on and their tongues in their mouths.
HOW DO WE PUNISH
the lesbians
in a way that seems equitable? And how do we prevent
future such lesbianism from occurring? How do we get
rid of the lesbians once and for all? How do we dispose
of the lesbians in a safe, legal manner? How do we
stop it? How do we stop it NOW?
Take pity on the eternal,
boring, self-righteous, easily bruised, stridently
annoying, lesbian crusader, snuggling in the fetal
position with her sisters, far from the evil, brutal
clutches of menfolk, free from the heartache that
MEN bring, with their hairy backs and repellent hanging
genitals.
I don't mind the pussy
aspect of it. Pussy's great. Yay, pussy! It's not
the vagina, it's everything surrounding it. The holiness
that surrounds their holes.
There's an insincerity
about all the new fashion lesbians. They act as if
they're blazing new trails, yet they're merely little
girls at a pajama party playing "Doctor" twenty years
too late.
Lesbianism is merely
another way for women to act like cunts.
Another way to be annoying.
They've found a way
to be even more annoying than heterosexual women.
I don't want to hear
how your father abused you. I don't want to hear what
you did with other girls. I want to hear what you
can do for me right here, right now, on your knees
with your mouth open.