Giving GaGa Another Go

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I am beginning to have second thoughts about “Born This Way.”

That’s not to say I suddenly find it to be a great song. I still find it rather banal and shallow. And I still get the urge to suddenly go, “Don’t go for second best, baby! Put your love to the test!” while listening to it.

Not to mention in some ways, I worry that while it may inspire self-acceptance among some young gay people it may have the direct opposite effect on others. You know, given it’s a song about self-love yet perpetuates the sort of stereotypes that discourages gay people from achieving such a feat. Wait, does saying that make me a drag or a queen?

Nevertheless, despite the song’s shortcomings as the days go by I am increasingly warming up to the sentiment that it’s better than nothing at all.

Much of that has to do with the discussions I’ve had in recent days and the ones I’ve been privy to witness.

Self-awareness isn’t as common as one would hope and pray it to be. Say, for instance, gay people who don’t think they were born gay. As in, they feel as though they purposely decided to lead a life that sends them on the road to prejudice, ignorance, and in many cases persecution and isolation. Of course, they can turn it off at any minute because they weren’t born that way.

You would think if they could just ‘turn it off,’ they would direct their dicks to their purported heavenly and hopefully (for some of you) waxed destination. Wait, let me stop before some dense ass thinks I actually believe being able to fuck both sexes negates actual sexual preference. FYI, it doesn’t.

My point is this: Not believing people are born gay despite the overwhelming and ever mounting evidence that suggests such is by far the stupidest crock of shit I ever heard in my entire life and with each passing second I find it so very hard to even entertain a fool who thinks that. Especially a gay one. If you are a gay person who doesn’t believe they were born gay, the amount of self-acceptance you have is nominal at best.

Which means the life you lead will be confusing, frustrating, if not flat out miserable over time. As much as I want to have sympathy for people still struggling with this, I’m annoyed. Annoyed that their tongues haven’t ran away from home long enough to where they can’t repeat this bullshit out loud to the people so desperate to believe that folks like me are willfully choosing to be “in the wrong.”

With that said, GaGa’s little cliche-riddled gay anthem might irritate the hell out of me in many ways but the core message it seeks to invoke in listeners is what matters most. So if some little kid or teenager can listen to that song, spin ’round the damn room and still take in the message that they were born the way they truly were, then I’m willing to ignore everything else.

That is, unless the video scares my eyes all the way down to my kneecaps with a heavy bombardment of gay patronization. If so, I’ll probably want to rant some more, but should I be tempted to I’ll remind myself of this post — and the idiots who inspired me to write it.

P.S. To those of you so ready to fill my comments section with some Hannah Barbara like story about the evils of peen on peen, please type it up, print it out and proceed to dump it in the toilet.

Science trounces fables, people. If you don’t think so, you’re in luck: I have a dick and I’d love to pull it out and piss on you.

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