What does it mean to be
the gayest? Using the word gay in its
generic sense and being a woman myself, I will discuss the term gayest in
relation to the only woman I know about whom I can make that judgement. And that
would be yours truly. Now that I think
about it I find that I do not know how to apply the adjective to anyone except
myself. How do I know how gay someone
is? How do I know how straight someone is?
Are we talking about their libido?
I don’t think so. I have heard of
lesbians with very strong libidos, but I don’t consider them to be gayer than
others. On the other end of the scale I
have known a few women who have a dislike and distrust of men in general,
suggesting that they may have been abused in the past. These women avoid men,
prefer not to associate with men, gay or straight, relate only to women and are
considered by themselves and others to be lesbians. Yet they are not interested
in sex with a woman either. They are
basically asexual.
Or perhaps we’re talking about
a gay person who never associates with straight people. Does this make a person
gayer than one who has a more diverse group of friends and associates.
Certainly not. Could it mean a person
who is more secure in his/her gayness.
Possibly. But I reject that as well. That just means the person is more secure,
not GAYER.
And so, I repeat. The
only person whose degree of gayness I might have any idea about--has to be
myself. And to compare my degree gayness
with that of others, I have to be able to measure the degree of gayness of
others. And I have just made the case
that such a measurement is impossible. Hmm..This presents a problem.
But wait! Enter the queerometer. Just when the problem seems impossible to
solve, I remember the queerometer. I
discussed this very issue once before in a piece called “Queer, Just How Queer.” Could we not just as well have called it “Gay,
Just How Gay.” I’m going to revisit what
I wrote then.
Imagine that we could
measure an individual’s degree of sexual orientation by taking, say, a blood
test. This would be an ugly world
indeed with a rigid caste system. The
most heterosexual would be on top and the most homosexual on the bottom.
Newborns would be
immediately tested at birth. Here’s one
scenario.
"Congratulations, Mr. and
Mrs. Jones. You have a healthy baby boy
measuring only two on the queerometer. He will be your pride and joy."
Or, the dreaded scenario: "You have a healthy baby boy, Mr. and Mrs.
Jones. He has 10 fingers and 10 toes and
all his parts. I’m sorry to tell you
that he tests positive on the queerometer.
He’s a 9.6"
"Oh," says Mrs. Jones,
gasping for breath. "A 9.6 ! Does that mean, does that mean?"
"Yes, I’m afraid so," says
the attendant. "At the age of eight years
you will be required to turn him over to the Department of Corrections. He will be yours until then. Enjoy!”
Or the following
close-call:
"Congratulations, Mr. and
Mrs. Jones. You have a beautiful baby
girl. She appears to be in perfect
health and all her parts are in the right place. However, she does measure a five on the
queerometer, which, as you know, is high.
The state will provide you with all the materials you need to guide her
in the right direction. If you use the
manual wisely and stick to it, she will turn out just fine and I’m sure she
will live a normal life and give you many grandchildren."
Or imagine a world in
which LGBT people took on a particular hue at puberty. Say, a shade of purple. The really dark purple ones would be the
really, really, queer ones, and the light violets would be only slightly
inclined to be homosexual or transgender, or bisexual, or queer. I can see the pride parade right now. A massive multi-shaded purple blob oozing
down Colfax.
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