On the one hand, I’m gay and nobody cares, but I’m nonetheless proud of who I am. On the other, “pride month” is way too long and June is overexposing the issue to the point of resentment.
Fathers have a single day in June. Even the end of slavery, our country’s biggest no-no, is relegated to one day of the month. Why, oh why, does sexual identity need a spotlight for the entire thing?
And “sexual identity” isn’t even accurate anymore. “Pride” is now a catch-all term for perversions, fetishes, kinks, lack of personal hygiene, gaudy fashion, piercings, and on and on. Gay pride is nearly a hate crime against transgenders and “queers” these days. It’s they/them/their blobby body shapes that dominate “pride” now.
The overexposure is literal. “Pride” events in major cities this past weekend featured men and women walking and biking publicly in the nude. Photos posted on social media showed that children were present. Happy pride.
Pride is officially off the reservation. The obnoxious, ever-changing flags are everywhere. It’s loud, sexually graphic, and explicit. It’s like being forced to attend an acid-fueled rave for four weeks, the face-numbing bass pounding at your head. The suffocating stench of hordes of sweaty, shirtless people. The blinding lights and honking horns.
Who is this fun for? Maybe there’s some enjoyment in a day. A weekend is pushing it. An entire month is outrageous.
And what is this god-awful aesthetic that I never had a say in? Actual rainbows are a delight. Chromatic colors are hideous. “Pride” month should come with one of those disclaimers: Caution! Imagery may induce photosensitive epileptic seizures!
It’s all so exhausting to the people who really, truly don’t care that some might call themselves “queer” under the misguided belief that it makes them interesting and it entitles them to recognition— for 30 days straight!
Rachel Levine, President Biden’s haggard assistant secretary of Health and Human Services, said Monday, “Let’s declare it a summer of pride.” They had better not.
