BethCavalier gmail. Research on sexual identity and sport has revealed a shifting narrative about the experiences of gay men. While some suggest the atmosphere is hostile, others posit that homophobia and sexual prejudice are playing less of a role in gay men's experiences.
Read T a Poem | Michael Benjamin Washington
Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Are you turned on by the sight of a masculine man in a tiny pair of footy shorts? Does a hot stud in his tennis whites do it for you? How about a big, beefy bear in a pair of snug rugby shorts?
Read T a Poem | Joe Mantello
Movies teach us how to be. We learn morals, ethical lessons, how to interact with others, how to fall in and out of love. And we learn from movies how to view others—and how to view ourselves. This has been truly evident in how film has depicted queer characters from its earliest days as visual medium. We have seen people like us reduced to stereotypes—sometimes based in truth, sometimes played by queer performers eager to find work and express their own identities in front of a camera, for better or for worse. Film has also depicted queer people as villains, victims, heroes, and outcasts. More often than not, films about the LGBT community are made not for those of us within it, but rather viewers who consider themselves a part of the straight world. Film teaches us about empathy, about understanding difference. Many films featuring queer characters have succeeded at that mission, while many others have failed. As with any other marginalized group, it's tricky to make a movie about the queer community—even if the filmmakers responsible are members of the tribe.
Instead, he drilled a hole in a piece of the set called a tormentor flat, about waist-high, so that he and his eight castmates, standing backstage, could get a glimpse of whoever was sitting sixth row center: the best seats in the house. This was an unexpected turn of events. So Crowley wrote the best and funniest and gayest play he could, about nine gay men or maybe eight and a half at a birthday party. Though some of the men finesse the ambient homophobia of the time better than others, almost all of them suffer from the self-hatred that seemed then, and maybe now, to infiltrate even the best-defended personality. Revisited 50 years later, it still is. It leaps off the page like fat from a wok. It is also an acknowledgment of a larger urgency about the representation of gay men in popular entertainment: a moment that, in the theater at least, is both springboard and eulogy. For the Old Port built and built again: I am sure you are indifferent to me. We are kin, though; we are both refuge and warmth, competition and hope, connected by seas.