Open Question: Is GOD coming back to judge lgbt & atheists?
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsKo45NNgmU&index=2&list=PLjj3Mg8Sy1CzN4x3Yxni1gjmQ5ozcoCBy

answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20151104070842AA2N9Te

This 8-year-old is a superstar in the transgender community
MERLO, Argentina — Luana grabs her sparkly blue dress with one hand and spins, using her other hand as a guide while a strand of tulle floats around her body. The 8-year-old has long brown curls, gold butterfly earrings and an amulet with a princess hanging from her neck. “I love it when my hair…
Associated Press

nypost.com/2015/11/04/this-8-year-old-is-a-superstar-in-the-transgender-community/

One Confirmed Killer And A Visit From Beyond The Grave On ‘Scream Queens’ [RECAP]

Welcome back! Now that the World Super Ball Cup or whatever is over, it’s time to get back to the mystery of who’s killing co-eds on Scream Queens.

Unfortunately, tonight’s returning episode was less than exciting. For starters, there were no appearances from our menacing Red Devils, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any bloodshed. This time, however, we know who the killer is.

Tonight’s episode not only felt a little disconnected from the season’s more pressing mystery, but it also kept most of our central characters isolated or off-screen. Where was Zayday (Keke Palmer)? Where was Denise (Niecy Nash)? We only had some brief time with Chad (Glen Powell), and it’s clear the Chanels are much more fun when they have other folks like the Dean (Jamie Lee Curtis), Grace (Skyler Samuels) or our ragtag group of pledges to play off.

Let’s discuss the latest happenings and theories in our SPOILER-filled recap of last night’s episode “Beware Young Girls,” below.

If I’ve learned anything about sorority life from this show, it’s that it’s just one big slumber party. There’s been Seven Minutes of Heaven and Spin the Bottle in previous episodes, but this time we break out the classic Ouija board. (“Didn’t you see the movie?” “The movie Ouija? No. No one did.”)

After a bitter eulogy for Chanel 2 (Ariana Grande), Chanel Prime (Emma Roberts) and her minions come together to contact their late sister from beyond the grave. In their first session, No. 2 tells them that Chad is cheating.

This predictably sends Chanel No. 1 into a frenzy. She marches right to Chad’s room and finds him in bed with a goat. Yes, a goat. But, you guys, it’s not what you think. He’s merely lovingly caressing the goat to coax some sweet, sweet goat’s milk out because he is lactose intolerant. God, Chanel, you’re so thoughtless!

Back at the board, the Chanels receive another message from No. 2. This time, she first proves she’s the real deal by accurately guessing the number of tampons Chanel No. 6 (Lea Michele) has in her purse. Then, she claims No. 1 is the killer terrorizing campus.

The other Chanels are quick to turn on their leader. Again. (Worst. Minions. Ever.) They realize their best bet is to kill Chanel No. 1 before she gets the chance to kill them. Unfortunately, they’re minions for a reason, and they fail to settle on a way to assassinate the KKT co-pres.

While they’re plotting, Chanel is visited in her sleep by Chanel No. 2. The late sister gives her some pretty great intel on hell (“Zero dinosaurs … As soon as I got there I was like where are the dinosaurs? And they were like, ‘We know, Jesus broke in and stole them’”), but she’s got a reason for appearing to Chanel No. 1 now. She needs to make peace with Chanel No. 1 so she can get out of hell. She apologizes for sleeping with Chad, for lying about him cheating and for lying about her being the killer. To make it up to her, she tells Chanel Prime that the other Chanels are planning to kill her.

With that warning, Chanel No. 1 takes the high road. Instead of killing them first, she confronts her sisters and lets them know she’s hip to their plan. Now she’s got a gift for them. It’s a Nancy Drew-style hat (nice callback to one of Roberts’ earlier roles) and magnifying glasses. They’re going to work together to find the real killer. And they’re starting with Zayday and Grace.

Meanwhile, Gigi (Nasim Pedrad) is busy cooking up some coq au vin when she gets a mysterious phone call. It’s one of the killers. A few clues here: She tells them they were once someone she loved; that they are killers, not kidnappers; again reiterates “he” has to go; and she calls their killings a revenge plot that took years to put together.

Later, she’s getting a contemporary makeover from Grace when she casually lets it drop that maybe she and Pete (Diego Boneta), the Woodward to Grace’s Bernstein, should look into a former student, Feather McCarthy (Tavi Gevinson). They track down the former student and hear her sordid tale.

She was a student in Dean Munsch’s ex-husband’s Beatles class back when the Munsches were still married. They fell in love, leading to Professor Munsch leaving then Associate Dean Munsch. Of course, the Dean did not take this well. She started showing up wherever Feather was, dressed exactly like her. Creepy! She eventually drove Feather out of Kappa House and off campus. So, if Grace and Pete are looking for a suspect in any sort of heinous crime, it’s probably Munsch!

When Feather gets home to Prof. Munsch, she finds bloody arrows and severed body parts leading to decapitated head of her older lover bobbing in a fish (called Wanda) tank.

Detective Chisholm (Jim Klock) and his squad blame Dean Munsch for the murder and haul her off to the asylum. And if she’s capable of this terribly brutal crime, she probably did all the other recent murders, too. All the cases closed!

Obviously, it’s not the simple. Munsch gets Pete and Grace to visit her in the mental hospital in hopes she can convince them Feather was behind the murder. That’s when lunch is served and the Dean freaks out at the attendant that — PAY ATTENTION — she can’t eat bologna, or she’ll go into anaphylactic shock! Anyway, if they help her investigate what “really” happened to her ex-husband, she’ll tell them what happened with that baby 20 years ago. Also, while they’re there, they see a woman painting. Apparently — PAY ATTENTION — she paints all the inmates. She hands them a painting of themselves, which makes her quite the speedy artist, no?

It’s not hard for them to convince the police dum-dums to hand over all the crime scene photos, and soon Grace and Pete spot a BOLOGNA SANDWICH amongst the evidence. But, wait! Dean Munsch can’t have bologna! She’s innocent! To be sure, they break into Prof. Munsch and Feather’s home, snag Feather’s toothbrush, and voila! The DNA on the toothbrush matches the bite taken out of the bologna sandwich.

So, Munsch is let out of the asylum and Feather is brought in. However, over a glass of wine later, Munsch confesses to the audience, that HA HA, she for sure DID kill her ex-husband, which she was now able to conveniently pin on Feather and lump in with the recent string of murders.

What do you think, readers? If Munsch is capable of that sort of sick slaying, could she also be one of our Red Devils? I still think no. If this is a revenge plan, it makes more sense for Gigi to be working against Munsch, not with her. Maybe Munsch is just an opportunist and smart enough to stay one step ahead of her adversaries. (A true Kappa gal if there ever was one.)

Gevinson was an interesting addition to the mix. As the music choice at the end of the show confirmed, her character was a direct reference to Mia Farrow (and not just because of the similar pixie cut). The closing tune shares the same title as this episode, “Beware of Young Girls.” The song was written by Dory Previn from a mental institution after she suffered a breakdown upon learning her husband was leaving her for Farrow.

Sure, that’s a great little Easter Egg, but I’m more interested in one lyric in particular. The clip that we hear says, “Beware of young girls, Who come to the door, Wistful and pale, Of twenty and four, Delivering daisies, With delicate hands.” Now, I’ve said it before, and I’ll reiterate here. Zayday feels like a very specific name, and also sounds A LOT like Daisy. Maybe I’m crazy, but in addition to lyrics from the song that closed the show, what tune was playing when we visited the asylum? “Daisy Bell.” (Oh, and how about this coat Zayday was wearing a few episodes back? Or this floral crop top?) It’s a little too coincidental, don’t you think? There’s a Daisy somewhere in this story, and I bet you she’s connected to our girl Z.

Speaking of the asylum, how about that painter? What do you wager she’s got a portrait of Gigi somewhere? Also, she did paint that picture of Pete and Grace pretty fast, didn’t she? I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I feel like there’s a chance that’s not actually supposed to be both of them in that painting, or maybe it’s not the first visit to the asylum for one of them.

Share you wild speculation and theories in the comments.

The post One Confirmed Killer And A Visit From Beyond The Grave On ‘Scream Queens’ [RECAP] appeared first on Towleroad.

Bobby Hankinson

One Confirmed Killer And A Visit From Beyond The Grave On ‘Scream Queens’ [RECAP]

PHOTOS: One Man’s Pair Of Junks Is Another Man’s Treasure

Junk Underjeans is one of those rare brands that caters to both masculine and flashy sensibilities. Some of their underwear is designed with bright pops of neon, unique prints and even some sexy cut-outs in the front. Others are more discrete with color blocked designs and a true sense of full coverage. And while The Underwear Expert certainly admires those pairs, we still see Junk Underjean’s reserved pairs as more of an asset to our underwear collections simply because there isn’t a day we wouldn’t wear them. That’s why the Smoke Trunk is our Editor’s Pick: Junk Underjeans.

You can see more of this photoshoot on The Underwear Expert.

Photo Credit: Jerrad Matthew Exclusively for The Underwear Expert

Underwear Expert

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Utah Gay Marriage Plaintiff Derek Kitchen Wins Salt Lake City Council Seat

Derek Kitchen, who with his husband and two other couples successfully challenged Utah’s ban on same-sex marriage in 2013, has won the council seat in Salt Lake City’s fourth district, KUER reports:

Kitchen says he’s excited about Salt Lake City’s growth and says he wants to make economic development one of his top priorities.

“I’m really interested in exploring how we can create a more affordable and equal city, how we can address the critical issues facing Salt Lake, whether it’s infrastructure, affordable housing or the homeless situation,” he says.

Kitchen says he will offer the fourth district a unique perspective, and something else:

“A voice,” he says.  “A voice for everybody. Salt Lake City, like I said, is very diverse.  And I have a unique ability to pull all the stakeholders together and represent a very diverse community.

Wrote Kitchen on Facebook:

Thank you! Thank you to my family for standing next to me through this campaign, for my volunteers for putting in countless hours knocking on doors, making calls, and talking to their friends. Thank you to all my supporters, your enthusiasm, donations, and moral cheers really kept me going. This has been such a positive experience for me as a first time candidate for public office. I’m happy to say that we ran a clean campaign focused on the issues and the residents of this great city.

I feel honored that the residents of District 4 have put their faith in me to represent them and make important decisions on their behalf. I’m energized and excited to get to work on the salt lake city council as your next representative!

Salt Lake City also elected its first openly gay mayor, Jackie Biskupski.

The post Utah Gay Marriage Plaintiff Derek Kitchen Wins Salt Lake City Council Seat appeared first on Towleroad.

Andy Towle

Utah Gay Marriage Plaintiff Derek Kitchen Wins Salt Lake City Council Seat

Get Inspired by This Black Gay Journalist's Triumph

Four years ago Don Lemon, the host of CNN Tonight, came out as one of the few openly black gay men in broadcasting. Two years later, Robin Roberts, an anchor for ABC’s Good Morning America wrote a post on her website thanking her “long time girlfriend” for sticking by her as she battled cancer and a bone marrow transplant. Lemon and Roberts became two of the few out 21st-century black LGBT journalists to ever gain face-time on television or a byline in print. 

But, where were the rest of of the black LGBT journalists, especially those of us who came of age at the end of the last century at the height of the AIDS epidemic?

Turns out we were always there working behind the scenes, trying not to be the story while reporting the story. 

Older black gay broadcasters like myself who grew up and worked in the Deep South faced a different kind of struggle. The lack of acceptance among some Southern black people of faith rivals that of many of the bishops in the Roman Catholic church. 

When I was a young kid growing up in Birmingham, Ala. during the height of the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s and early ’70s, I’d run home from school, wolf down a sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk, do my homework then go outside to play with the kids on my block. But, regardless of how much fun I was having, I always made sure I was back home sitting in front of the TV at 5:30 to watch Walter Cronkite anchor The CBS Evening News. He was my hero and I wanted to grow up to become the first black man to do exactly what he was doing.

As I entered high school, a guy by the name of Max Robinson was beating me to the punch. In 1978, Robinson was hired to co-anchor ABC’s World News Tonight.  A decade later, his career came to an abrupt halt when he was diagnosed with HIV and he ultimately died from complications to AIDS that same year. 

To my knowledge, Robinson and I represent a small group of black male journalists who publicly announced that we were infected with HIV. In fact we may be in a league of our own because of the stigmas attached. 

While Robinson’s HIV diagnosis ended his life, early detection and new advances in HIV treatment gave me a second chance to pursue my childhood dream. But like Robinson, who was unfairly disparaged by some as an alcoholic perfectionist even while being lauded as a civil rights activist, my rise up the ladder of success also came with a multitude of adversities. 

When I was 4-years-old, I survived a deadly house fire. I watched my 2-year-old cousin perish in the flames. Between kindergarten and second grade, I was repeatedly sexually abused by my stepfather and forced to watch my mother being beaten by the same man. 

I’d grow up to eventually endure a series of abusive relationships, and receive an HIV diagnosis in 1991. At 30, I found myself taking care of my ailing mother. I loved her dearly but the concerns over her health as well as my own left me in a deep depression. To cope, I turned to crack cocaine, spawning a deep addiction I secretly hoped would kill me.

I found my redemption through study, work, and the faith in God that has always nursed me even as a child. 

I stayed in the Southern communities within which I was reared and studied radio and television journalism, and soon, at the age of 40, I graduated from Jefferson State Community College in Birmingham.

Then I became a senior news reporter, producer, and anchor for Mississippi Public Broadcasting, a statewide affiliate of National Public Radio. 

“Lawayne, people really need to know your story,” said my college advisor, Dr. Janice Ralya, urging me to enter an essay contest and peel back the layers of my life so the public knows what it is really like to work through struggle. I entered the contest. The essay received overwhelming support on social media.

“How does a troubled black gay youth from the Deep South grow up to become one of the most respected news journalists in the country,” I asked in my essay and I spoke openly about my history of childhood sexual abuse, my crack cocaine addiction, and my HIV diagnosis.

But, then during my college graduation ceremony, one of the presenters read my essay aloud. It was my first time hearing my most private words read aloud to an audience. Anxiety kicked in. I was truly going public and there was no turning back. However, my dread quickly dissipated when I was called to the stage and the audience stood to its feet with thunderous applause. 

“Thank you for giving our family hope,” one person told me after the ceremony. “Thank you for telling my son’s story,” someone else told me. And another person thanked me for telling her daughter’s story, and still another thanked me for telling his friend’s story. Then it hit me: in my essay I revealed struggles shared by so many in the black community, struggles with loss, abuse, addiction, and illness that transcend race, gender and sexuality.

That’s how my memoir Peeling Back the Layers began.

I was deeply grateful and moved when my work for MPB earned me more than a dozen Associated Press Broadcasters Awards as well as the Edward R. Murrow Award for Journalistic Excellence, and I was shocked when the accolades didn’t stop there. 

In 2014 the Alabama Community College System named me as one of its most outstanding alumni in the institution’s 50-year history and created a $5,000 scholarship in my name that is bestowed on a deserving Alabama high school senior. 

In the Deep South, it is a sign of incredible progress for such an honor to be named after an out, black, gay HIV-positive man. 

Through the grace of God and enormous perseverance, I have lived to witness acceptance, hope, and love from my own black community. 

Childrey currently and works as a national voice over artist, a HIV/AIDS activist, and a motivational speaker. Give Peeling Back the Layers: A Story of Trauma, Grace and Triumph as a gift for the holidays and learn more about Childrey online. 

Lawayne Childrey

www.advocate.com/books/2015/11/04/get-inspired-black-gay-journalists-triumph

Watch: The Ultimate Boy-Meets-Boy Romance “In The Grayscale”

It often seems that nuanced explorations of bisexuality on screen are few and far between. The new romantic drama, In the Grayscale has been getting attention for its even-handed and thoughtful treatment of sexual self-discovery. Chilean TV star Francisco Celhay plays a thirty-something architect who leaves his wife and child and falls into a romance with an openly gay history teacher. He explores the urban landscape of Santiago (and his own inner landscape of desire) while still maintaining his connection to his family and formerly straight life. First-time director Claudio Marcone explores questions of sexuality and commitment while not offering conventional black and white answers (hence the titular reference to the grayscale).

In The Grayscale won the Jury Award for Best First Feature at Frameline: The San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival this past June where Variety compared it’s sensitive romanticism to Andrew Haigh’s Weekend and called it: “a gentle boy-meets-boy romance.”

The film is out this week on DVD and digital platforms including iTunes, Amazon Instant, WolfeOnDemand.com and more. Check out the trailer above.

Jenni

feedproxy.google.com/~r/queerty2/~3/T6jxffOnNh4/watch-the-ultimate-boy-meets-boy-romance-in-the-grayscale-20151103

When Drag Is Activism

In 1971, the day before the U.K. Gay Liberation Front planned to hold London’s first official Pride march, half a dozen radical drag activists took it upon themselves to run a dress rehearsal. It was a resounding success, one which saw them chased down Oxford Street by the metropolitan police. Over a decade earlier, drag queens in Los Angeles had fought back against overzealous cops arresting their friends at Cooper’s Donuts (1959). Those in San Francisco rioted against relentless police harassment at Gene Compton’s cafeteria (1966). And of course, New York queens hurled bricks, clashed with police, and made history at the Stonewall Inn (1969).

Drag queens have been fighting on the front line since the dawn of the modern LGBT rights movement. Even after these flashpoints in queer history, many continued to do so, using their prominent community status to champion equality. 

Post Stonewall, Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson formed Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) to fight for vulnerable LGBT groups, including homeless drag queens and queer runaways (including the transgender women they advocated for, though this was in an era that predates the language we now use for trans and gender-nonconforming people). Since their first performance on Castro Street in the late ’70s, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have used drag, protest, and highly controversial religious imagery to raise over $1 million for various AIDS– and LGBT-related causes, educating people along the way. And many queens joined ACT UP during the AIDS epidemic, attending die-ins at Catholic churches and protesting against pharmaceutical companies that withheld HIV drugs.

History is (g)littered with queens who saw their roles as so much more than just performers. No queer fundraiser, protest, or riot is complete without at least one drag queen, it seems. But really it is no surprise that they’re so often at the heart of these movements; for many, the front line is seldom avoidable. 

“We’re the ones walking out in the street in drag, so we’re the ones that people know are gay,” says Lady Bunny, herself no stranger to political engagement. “So if you’re a homophobic, drunk asshole out on the town to harass anyone, you might not know if the straight-acting gays are gay. But if you see a big drag queen or a very effeminate male homosexual, that’s going to be who gets the shit on the street — the people who were gay 24-7, not the straight-acting gay men who can pass for straight except for the one day a year they wear a rainbow outfit at Pride.”

The past few years have seen drag surge in popularity, inspired in part by greater acceptance of LGBT culture, as well as the more obvious global success of RuPaul’s Drag Race. When Miley Cyrus performed with Shangela, Laganja Estranja, Alyssa Edwards, and others at last August’s VMAs, it signaled to some that drag was now mainstream. Such sentiments may be
premature, but drag is definitely going through a golden era that a number of drag queens say hasn’t been seen since the 1990s. 

Even as drag becomes more commercial, a host of queens continue to use their podiums and performances to challenge inequality and homophobia around the world. 

 

Asifa Lahore

 

In the past two years, Ireland’s accidental activist and gender discombobulist Panti Bliss (a.k.a. Rory O’Neill) has been threatened with legal action, sparked a national debate about LGBT rights, seen a video of her speech on homophobia go viral (over 200,000 views in two days) then be remixed by the Pet Shop Boys, and become one of the figureheads for Ireland’s successful referendum on same-sex marriage. While she’s now viewed as one of the most prominent present-day LGBT activists, Panti sees it differently. 

“What I see myself as is, well, just very determinedly being what I fucking want to be, and if in order to be that I need to get into the odd scrap, then yes — I’m just not the kind of person to shut up and stay quiet,” Panti says. “Most of the sort of things here that I’m particularly known for, from an activist point of view, is stuff that I’ve wandered into, and I’ve had to become an activist to get myself out of the situation. But I do think of myself as an entertainer first and an activist second.”

In early 2014, when O’Neill appeared out of drag on RTÉ’s The Saturday Night Show, he suggested that two Irish Times journalists, John Waters and Breda O’Brien, as well as the Iona Institute (a Catholic pressure group), were homophobic. And “Pantigate” was born. In the aftermath, O’Neill was accused of defamation (Ireland’s defamation laws are stricter than those in the U.S.), causing the Irish broadcaster to pull the episode from its online player, issue payouts to those mentioned, and have TV host Brendan O’Connor issue an on-air apology. Responding to the cause célèbre, Panti delivered her “Noble Call” at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin: an impassioned speech about oppression and homophobia, which saw everyone from RuPaul to Graham Norton praising her. 

“When I made the speech that went viral, the night before I’d met with one of my lawyers — because at the time I had a team of lawyers — and one of my lawyers was a little uncomfortable with me doing it in drag,” says Panti. “His argument was, and I appreciate the argument, that people wouldn’t be able to see past the drag, or they’d be frightened off by the drag, or that it would somehow come between me and my message. But I was very determined to do it in drag, partly because it would have felt like a defeat if I hadn’t, because that is who I am and that is what this is all about.”

Had Panti listened to her lawyers and delivered her speech out of drag, it’s likely it wouldn’t have received anywhere near the attention it did. Drag didn’t addle her point, it amplified it.

“Just by the nature of what I do, my voice is louder than other people’s,” she says. “I think the activism enhances the entertainment. A good activist needs to be an entertainer in a way too, because people are more likely to listen to you if you’re way entertaining. They don’t need to be high-kicking and wearing funny outfits, but they need to have a stage presence in a sense, because that’s why people listen to you. And drag queens are used to that. Stagecraft helps.”

 

Mama Tits

 

As does social media. Drag queens have always been challenging the status quo, but nowadays when they do so they’ll likely be caught on film by a ubiquitous smartphone. At Seattle Pride in 2014, local queen Mama Tits (a.k.a Brian Peters) was videoed eloquently dismantling the logic of antigay Christian protesters who had turned up to picket the parade with homophobic signs and megaphones. A glorious and inspiring takedown, the video — aptly titled “Mama Tits is a Crusader!!” — has now been viewed over 1.8 million times. 

Asifa Lahore, the U.K.’s most prominent Muslim drag queen, has achieved national fame over the past few years, with her story explored in documentaries by The Guardian and, more recently, the U.K.’s Channel 4. Since donning a rainbow burqa at a drag competition, she’s become a figurehead for what is known as Britain’s “gaysian” community. Asifa’s performances and activism challenge what it is to be gay and Muslim to such an extent that she’s been condemned by conservative mosques in Britain. To this day, she still receives detailed death threats.

“As soon as I started doing drag, I received death threats, and four years later things haven’t changed,” says Asifa (a.k.a. Asif Quraishi). “There was a time very early on in my career where I nearly gave up doing drag. A boy dressing up as a girl? Was it really worth all the heartache and pain it was causing me and my family? But I knew that if I gave in then I’d be making myself unhappy, so I carried on performing and will continue to perform. Every day I live the point is made. I exist, I matter, and I am alive.”

Asifa received a Pride award from Attitude magazine in June 2015 for her work empowering Britain’s LGBT Muslim community. It’s not been an easy journey. As a young man, Quraishi found his conservative Muslim upbringing conflicted greatly with his sexuality: his family tried to force him into an arranged marriage with a female cousin; when he eventually did come out, he was taken to a doctor; and when he told his imam, he was told to lead a life of celibacy. Quraishi’s activism is driven by his struggle of growing up gay in a hetero-dominant world, something many drag queens (and LGBT activists generally) can attest to. 

 

Lady Bunny

 

“When you become a drag queen, you are put on the bottom — no pun intended — of the totem pole in terms of being thought of as a desirable man,” says Lady Bunny. “It can force us to develop a defiant ‘fuck the status quo’ attitude, because we aren’t going to stop doing drag just to fit in. This same defiance enables us to question the church, politicians, or anything else that stands in our way. Most of us are never going to be mainstream, so we don’t need to soft-pedal our opinions.

“Drag queens have the ability to look at themselves and see how they can change it. If you look in the mirror and see a huge jaw, you’re going to need a really tall wig to soften that mug! If you can change how you appear without makeup and drastically rearrange it, that manner of thinking can also enable some to make tough assessments of what society needs. Especially when society is attacking us. Don’t mess with someone whose nuts are shoved up their ass. We’re prone to snap.”

If the ability to change is the nature of drag, then defiance is its essence. Channeling the experiences of a tough and harrowing childhood through their drag gives many queens an edge as activists. 

“If you’re on the front line your whole life…you really develop survival skills at an earlier age,” says Peaches Christ, who grew up in a Catholic household. “This comes from a place of growing up and being a sissy in a society that tells you not to, that says the way you’re gendering yourself is abnormal, you shouldn’t want to play with dolls, you shouldn’t be interested in makeup. You’re forced into a position of defending yourself and learning how to stand up for yourself at a very young age.”

 

Peaches Christ

 

In many ways, the performance of drag itself is activism. Whether it’s strutting down RuPaul’s runway in the couture or standing silently on a street corner donning a cheap skirt and wig, drag is an inherent rejection of societal norms and conservative views on gender and sexuality. And it still courts controversy. 

When Peaches (a.k.a. Joshua Grannell) took her show Bearbarella to Northern Ireland, she was met by government officials who accused her of blasphemy and lewdness. 

“It was a huge reminder that ‘Oh, right, I still stand for something,’” she says. “When we got a standing ovation in Northern Ireland, it wasn’t because my Bearbarella show was brilliant — it’s full of poppers and dildos and about a bear drag queen saving the universe — but it was because of what it stood for, which was, we’re going to do whatever the fuck we want and we’re going to be proud of this stupidity, grossness, and sexuality.”

Drag has always challenged gender conventions and societal norms since the days when cross-dressers in Victorian London like Thomas Boulton and Frederick Park were charged with conspiring to commit an unnatural offense. It wasn’t too long ago that female impersonation was illegal in parts of the United States. In some countries it still is. Ripping off a wig at the climax of a fierce lip-sync, choosing a provocative name, wearing a beard — drag still affords plenty of nuances that can be read as political statements. 

“Certainly naming yourself after Jesus is an intentionally antagonistic thing — I was young and I was very angry and I was raised Catholic,” says Peaches. “Performing in drag in some ways is a political act, no matter where you are, and even though it’s more popular, the reality of it is, it’s still very transgressive. There is, unfortunately, in the U.S., such a thing as being too gay. And it really affects our access to other kinds of platforms and entertainments. So while RuPaul’s Drag Race is very popular, I would still argue that it’s cult and niche.”

 

Conchita Wurst

 

Whether the art itself is or isn’t mainstream, there are still many queens whose popularity transcends the queer community. Conchita Wurst became a global icon in 2014 when she won Eurovision, with her Shirley Bassey–esque voice and glamorous style. As a bearded drag queen she was always going to shock mainstream audiences, and it’s this — her particular brand of genderfuck drag — which transformed Wurst (the drag persona of Austrian singer Thomas Neuwirth) from exceptional per former to LGBT champion, voicing a backlash against queer persecution in Russia. 

Without its shock factor, drag loses its potency. As a tool for political and social change it becomes blunted. “When it’s mainstream, it’s often defanged a lot,” says Panti. “It doesn’t allow room for the angry drag, the genderfuck drag, the punk elements of drag. I do always worry about that whenever drag is mainstreamed. It’s sanitizing drag in a way. It’s taking away the danger and the sex and the dirt. And I like the danger, the sex, and the dirt. That’s why I got into it in the first place.”

There are even factions within the LGBT community which struggle to accept drag. Earlier this year Glasgow Free Pride — an anti-commercialist alternative to the city’s main event — was roundly criticized by many prominent figures in the LGBT community after it banned drag queens from performing, for fear of upsetting the transgender community. 

“As much as I obviously disagreed with Free Pride’s decision on so many levels, I did like that it showed you that drag still has the power to — I don’t want to say offend people, because that’s different — but to make people uneasy and to consider things that they don’t always like to consider,” says Panti.

Despite astounding progress since Cooper’s, Compton’s, and Stonewall, so many issues remain unresolved. But even in such a desensitized era, drag continues to shock the establishment, empower the marginalized, and challenge the norm. It’s transgressive and provocative, symbolic and subversive. In the fight for universal LGBT liberation, the role of drag queens and their art shouldn’t be underestimated. 

“[Drag] is a statement in itself,” Panti continues. “And the statement says you’re all wrong — fuck you. It still has the power to discombobulate people, to upset people. And it should, because these issues, about gender and sexuality, are all unresolved.”

Chris Godfrey

www.advocate.com/current-issue/2015/11/04/when-drag-activism