Beginning of the End


So, here comes the shitstorm.

What's worse: a fucked-up government which refuses to even consider the notion that nonheterosexual couples deserve an equal right to make themselves miserable through marriage, or a fucked-up government which wants to take that right, already won, away?

I'm no fan of marriage in any of its permutations, but I've always supported the right to choose a personal course of action which may very well be one of the stupidest ever entertained. So when the smug fuckpigs who comprise the Conservative Party of Canada–a group which makes America's Christian Right look like Rhodes Scholars–are called upon to decide which stupid choices (affecting only me) that I can make, well, I mean, sheesh.

Worse, yet, will be the inevitable, predictably-insipid response from the nonheterosexual community population of this country. Being a glass-half-broken kinda guy, I can't wait, actually, to observe the most significant cultural gains in homoCanadian history be ripped away without even a raised voice. I mean, it's not like moving to America is a more attractive option.

So, let's hold a meeting to decide what to do, 'kay?

"Order, order, please! As Chairwomyne of this meeting, I'd like to call you all to order! Now, first, I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight to this meeting of the Planning Suggestion Consensus Network, here to discuss what we're going to do about the recent vote in the House of Commons which has stripped us all of our right to marry. And I'd like at this time to acknowledge my life partner, Amber, and our two coparented children, Victymme & Gendré, whom we love more than anything else in the world. Okay. Now.  Suggestions?"

"I think we should burn the House of Commons to the fucking ground!"

"Please, please! Could the first suggestion please come from a nonwhite nonmale, please?"

"As a bisexually-identified woman of colour (who hasn't yet actually been with another woman), I'd like to propose that we create a phone-calling tree to get the word out. Maybe we could create a web page and get people to subscribe to a newsletter!"

"Great suggestion! I propose that we circle the Parliament buildings with our baby strollers, our children proudly holding 'Stephen Harper is a Meanie!' placards."

"Let's make a quilt!"

"My life partner for life, Gjoffrey, was saying the other morning after yoga class that we might register our protest by putting up 'Equality is Nice!' posters in storefronts. After getting permission in advance, of course."

"Awesome, Jase. Okay, now that we've heard from a man, again, we seriously need some gender parity. Can we please hear from a woman or transgendered person of visible minority? No more men until we've heard from a differently-abled, two-spirited person or 'questioning' person. Jasmynne?"

"Yes.  Thank you. I think what I need right now is for everyone here to acknowledge the abuse I suffered as a child at the hands of my father. Can I have a show of hands, please, of abuse survivors? We need a minute of silence for each one of us before we can proceed."

(Eight hands and nine minutes later…)

"Thank you all so much. It means a lot, you know, because the horrors of that experience can't be erased unless we talk about it at every opportunity. After this meeting, we can have some additional support and sistering in a Healing Circle for Abuse Survivors. Everyone without a penis is welcome."

"Okay, great. Now… We need to reach out to straight people more. I mean, we've already made changes to Gay Pride Day–first changing the name to an unintelligible alphabet soup of every imaginable sexual classification, then completely removing any reference to sexuality, so as not to offend any of our corporate sponsors. The inevitable next step is to change the whole definition of 'Pride Day' to embrace straight people, too. It's the ultimate in inclusivity!"

"I think we should get an undertalented, washed-up, self-important playwright to dress up in drag and deep-throat a dildo!"

"Please, please! There are children here! This is all about family!"

"I don't think we should be too hasty, whatever we decide, in doing anything until we've networked with people of all faiths. We all need to open a personal dialog with God and ask for guidance."

"Maybe we could get the Princess of Wales Theatre to have a special performance of the Lord of the Rings musical to raise awareness? And have a circuit party fundraiser afterwards? Of course, we'd have to hire Victor Calderone, who's, like, totally the best deejay around and easily the hardest? And 25 cents from every $8 bottle of water would go to finance special-coloured ribbons–or bracelets!–which we can ask people to please try to maybe wear?"

"No, we can't do that. I was once the victim of a horrible lesbianbashing at the Princess of Wales Theatre. I'll admit, I was drunk and I knocked over a couple of displays and talked on my cell phone during the performance. But I was singled out and ejected because I am a proud lesbian! And bashed!"

"I know… we need to set up a bisexual outreach network. There are a lot of bisexuals out there who need our support and understanding in this very difficult time. I mean, just imagine how hard it is for them–having a stable family homelife and ridiculously profitable career guaranteed by that married-heterosexual veneer, and then having blisteringly hot gay sex on the side? I mean, in order for them to have absolutely everything and not having to work for any of it? We need to reach out to them, even though they won't lift a finger to help us lest it reveal their lies, because they're the most oppressed of all!"

"Where is your goddamned outrage?!?! Can we please just grab a bunch of bricks and take to the streets?"

"Okay, that's enough. First, I thought I made myself clear: no more suggestions from men. And I include Kick-Ass Dykes in that category. And anyone not interested in being constructive and nice needs to leave, like, right now. I know we're all a little bit cross at being returned to third-class citizen status, but we can't risk offending anyone by being angry. The rest of us? I think we have enough to work on for a few months. Shall we all meet back here in, say, August?"

We are so fucked. 

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