When my good friend Bryon first told me about the concept of Polari, I thought it was a really fresh idea. Personally, I consider myself Bi-Polari, but then nobody believes me because I have a boyfriend. Okay, bad joke.
It’s refreshing to have an LGBT magazine without back-page classified ads for fisting or water sports. [Note to self, look elsewhere for fetish-want ads.]
And so finally, the thinking gay’s publication has arrived, and if it’s a good lead on a hot hookup you’re looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place. Of course, this is the blog page, so I make no guarantees about any of the social network aspects of this site. Go for it.
However, on the editorial pages of Polari you’ll find frank discussion of issues, profiles of courage, artistic endeavors, critical responses, and an occasional history lesson.
You may even discover new secret Polari terminology for your daily lingo. For example, did you know that “Tom Cruise” is actually Polari-speak meaning, to state the obvious?
Okay, I just made that up, but I’ll let you use that.
But let’s get something … um … straight. We all know you’ll not be ditching those other magazines that we won’t name. Just think of Polari as a sorbet to cleanse the palate.
Here’s how it works… Say you’re out with your friends and one of them starts to brag about their shirtless photo on the back pages of a local nightlife rag. Just bring up the fact that 98% of gay men read Polari shirtless. It’s one of the true sexy facts about the privacy of reading a web-based magazine. Try reading your issue of Bear Magazine on the train in the nude and see how far it gets you. Okay, that might actually get you somewhere at certain train stops, but you didn’t hear that from me.
All kidding aside, this is a time to move forward in the community, sharing ideas, experiences and advice with each other. Use Polari as a forum for this. Don’t be shy. Here, I’ll go first. Straight people love “WHY” by Bronski Beat. What’s up with that? Discuss.
As an American reader of Polari, I have to mention that the magazine couldn’t have come at a better time. Just last month I had the strange experience of being in Los Angeles on business the day of the fateful vote on Prop 8. Since this was strictly a California-voters issue, and I had been pretty swamped with work, I was a bit in the dark when my rental car was suddenly accosted by an angry mob of fabulous gays, lesbians and their token straight friends.
“SAY NO ON 8, IT’S NOT GREAT!” shouted the mob. “STOP THE MORMONS!”
“Stop the Mormons?” I mean, sure they’ve rained on our pride parade in the past, but little did I know the extent they were sabotaging the vote. Of course, we all know the brutal truth about that situation now.
You could imagine my confusion driving past the Church of Latter-Day Saints headquarters on Santa Monica Boulevard as I pass about 20 Mexican immigrants holding “SAY YES TO 8!” signs. On the corner was a dirty old white Mormon man with black tie and white shirt overseeing the efforts that I’m sure cost him $2 an hour per Mexican.
The next day, the vote came through, gay marriage was killed in California, and people took to the streets. And here’s where I have an issue.
Most of the protesting spread from Sunset Boulevard in Beverly Hills, down to West Hollywood (about a one mile walk). Talk about protesting to the converted. We made our voices heard, but only in the comfort of our familiar surroundings. So traffic was a nightmare for one evening for anyone driving to an awards ceremony at the Beverly Hilton or coffee at the Abbey.
As I was reminded by Gus Van Sant’s amazing new film Milk, when Harvey Milk organized a march in the streets of the Castro district, people took notice. It was a coming together that was unprecedented and even if the majority didn’t support gay rights, they were pressured to do so for reasons other than their “beliefs”. Right about now, I think we could use some of that kind of leverage.
So I’ll step off the soapbox now, and leave the rest to us.
by Todd from Beware of the Blog