After learning that that I’ve had strep (again!) all week and finally getting medication for it, I am starting to feel alive again. And to think I really kinda thought I was just being a wimp. The prospect of actually being at work and being able to do my job makes me rather happy to be at work tomorrow. I hate feeling unproductive.
I learned something rather interesting a couple days ago. I won’t fully believe it until I see it, but Archie comic books sent out a release that they are adding a new character to their comic. An openly gay character (Kevin or Kyle or something). (And before I say anything else, I fully acknowledge that the driving force behind this is exposure and an effort to drum up buzz around their product.) Apparently, Veronica is desperate to date him, but she can’t for soon to be disclosed reasons. It’s scheduled to be released in September. There can be a lot of protests before then—lots of things that will cause them to cancel the release.
I love Archie comics. I’ve been buying them since before I could even read (yes, that means I still buy them from time to time)—I have a couple thousand of them. And, yes, I’m okay that every single story is pretty much exactly the same. I got online to see some of the reactions, and they are precisely what you’d expect—from both sides. Gays rejoicing—the anti-gays screaming about putting our youths’ souls on the line. One started praying for God to return before the release of the comic. That made me laugh. The funny thing, the sad thing, is it is all too familiar—and I know which side I would have been on not too long ago. When I was in jr. high or high school, Archie tried reinventing Jughead to be more of a skateboarder and more punk. My little world about crumbled. I even wrote letters to the creator of Archies, going on and on about how Archie comic represent the purity and innocence of children and of America. Yep, I was dramatic back then too. Within a few months, that prototype Jughead was shelved and back was our A-sexual, burger-a-holic, lazy Jughead. Now, I’m not saying my letter was the deciding factor, but I’m not saying it wasn’t either. ;)
Now, here we are fifteen plus a few years later, and I can guarantee there are so many little mini-Brandon’s doing their godly duty, writing letters day and night. Emails more likely, but still.
I can tell how ‘liberal’ I really have gotten. A couple years ago, the thought of a gay character on Archie would have still bugged me. Why shove gayness in children’s faces? I think that thinking is faulty. Having a gay character is no more sexual than the straight three-way crush between Betty, Archie, and Veronica—and the comics have never done anything off-color or inappropriate that subject matter. There’s no reason to think they will just because the character is gay. For some reason, if a character (or real person) is gay, all anyone can see is sex—even when they are fully clothed, even when they are fat, ugly, stupid, or mentally retarded (yep, there are genuinely mentally handicapped fags). Maybe it’s because we are all so much hotter than our straight counter points (if you believe that, just look at Mc. Steamy, Eric Dane—the only man I’d I hesitate for on my flight into Ricky Martin’s arms), or because we have more sex (this is actually probably true). Whatever the reason (sorry got distracted by Mc. Steamy in my head), I can’t imagine how both shocking and wonderful it could have been to have seen someone I related to in the comics or books or movies I loved so much. I related to Archie because he had red hair, Betty because that was my grandma’s name, and Jughead because I love burgers even more than he, and Reggie, just because I thought he was hot—I loved it when the story line happened at the beach. . . sigh. But none of them were anything like me, only like my friends.
Everyone screams how our gay culture is such a danger to the straight good children of the world. We’re not gonna turn them. Trust me, I had no gay influences growing up, and all the straight propaganda didn’t do shit to me. No one cares about the little boy (or girl) who knows by the time they are three or four that they are different, that there’s something strange about them, something wrong. Maybe if we give them places where they can see themselves in normal every day ways, we won’t have so many go looking for it in all the wrong and dangerous places later.
That’s right, folks, other blogs will give you political debate, philosophical dilemmas, and current events. If I’m not giving you sob stories of my so-called shattered life, I’m giving you comics. Lucky you!
Speaking of, some of my emotions (the fun kind) seem to slowly be coming back. Yay for that. And, as ever, they are all over the place and exhausting. LOL!