Photo of military participants in a the 2012 Knox Pridefest parade by Flickr user Wyoming_Jackrabbit.
Used under a Creative Commons license.

At least here in the West, homophobia-phobia has long been of the most oppressive, coercive, corrosive, behavior-distorting blights on human male behavior. Homophobia-phobia being the (sometimes well-founded) fear of being mistakenly identified as a gay man when you're straight. My favorite example is men being paralyzed when asked to carry their wife or girlfriend's purse.

Because, you know, touching a purse might make you gay. Or, worse, look gay.

Because, you know, all gay men carry purses.

Or something.

Anyway, I say homophobia-phobia is a well-founded fear for straight men because... of the verbal and too-often physical bashing actual gay men have too-often had to face.

Too often at the hands of...

Straight men who themselves were...

Terrified of themselves being identified as...

Gay.

As George Carlin (in)famously put it while discussing macho in the tough ethnic-Irish neighborhood he grew up in, "A fag was a guy who wouldn't go downtown with you beatin' up queers."

Bingo! Nobody wanted to be the "fag" who wouldn't beat up "queers" because, well, then the guys wouldn't have to go downtown to find someone to beat up. If you weren't willing to go they could save a bunch of time by just beating you up instead.

So?

So, kudos to DailyKOS founder Markos Moulitsas for nailing this little sea change:

Marines and Navy personnel march in last year's Gay Pride Parade in San Diego. If wingnuts want to confuse me with these guys, why would I get upset?

One of these days, dumbass conservatives will figure out that calling me gay is not an insult. It's a compliment.

And no, they'll never really figure that out.

Source: Daily Kos

I think that's about as good as it gets.

Aside: This is a bit off topic but I didn't use Markos's original photo. Instead I used one from a recent Pride parade in my hometown of Knoxville, TN. Because another consequence of the decline of both homophobia and homophobia-phobia? The main street of town, the named in the 1890s, the one that's been blighted since the early 1970s by its name to a point where nearly all the business on the streets moved out and the ones that couldn't move started using the street addresses of the alleys behind them in a veritable orgy of homophobia-phobia? That street? Gay Street? It's having a renaissance like you wouldn't believe. The beautiful old stores, banks, and office buildings are being restored. The preserved-through-neglect nearby old city is awash in night clubs, coffee shops, and startups. And the nearby Market Square is alive at night -- verged with restaurants, ice-cream shops, boutiques, and fountains and filled with students, families with their children, the young hip and alive as well as the old and crusty -- in a way I've only seen in plazas in Greece. There aren't a lot of places more genteely homophobic or homophobia-phobic than east Tennessee so I'm thinking if it can start there -- even in a tiny area, even in a tiny way, then it can happen anywhere.

Finally!

Mark Simpson, coiner of the term "metrosexual." Photo from marksimpson.com.

Masculinity writer and approving coiner of the term "metrosexual" Mark Simpson takes a solid swipe at bogus Rule of Desire #2: It is simultaneously inconceivable and intolerable for a man to be sexually desired.

Today’s Guardian carries a piece by an Olly Richards pegged to the new stripper movie Magic Mike, ostensibly about male nudity in the movies.

At the top of the piece he announces:

‘We all know the nude male form is essentially ridiculous, built only for floppy comedy.’

Speak for yourself, Mary.

This assertion of the writer’s contempt for the male body — and de facto dismissal of anyone who thinks differently — is the only thing the article has to say. An article on male nudity in the movies has nothing to say about male nudity in movies – because if it did then the author would have to be interested in the male body.

Source: marksimpson.com

Simpson points out that Richards reserves his snorting only for male grooming.  (Richards evidently has no comment on... and likely no problem with... women plucking, using "hair product," tanning, dieting, wearing makeup, etc.)

The gap in Richards' logic, as with all gaps caused by the bogus Two Rules of Desire, is that contrary to the dominant paradigm straight men are not the sole determiners of what's hot and what's not.  Nor are we straight men the entire target demographic for all things sexy.

The funny thing is that of course it's perfectly fine for straight men to be indifferent to or unimpressed by the grooming efforts of other men.  If you're a straight man other men aren't for you!  Sort of by-definition if you're straight you're attracted to women.

Trick for straight men is it's not all about us.

Not anymore.

Even worse better?  It never has been.

And that's a good thing, Sampson.  Know why?

Because it means the only person who thinks there's no chance a woman would ever fall for a lunk, jock, dork, nerd, "beta," "loser," non-George-Clooney like you is probably...

...you!

For every Jack there's a Jill, Jackson.  You or any other guy may not be your own cup of tea.  But then if you're straight?  You're not supposed to be!

But just because you're not your cup of tea doesn't mean you're not someone else's tall drink o' water.

Photo by Flickr user Sharon Drummond. Used under a Creative Commons license. />

So. Was the crucial fallacy of early 2nd-wave feminism in the 1970s the idea that women could somehow possibly live in the public world with the same social, economic, political, and personal rights as men? No, we might still not be there but it's still self-evidently true. Was it that "when women were equal to men" we'd all wear unisex clothes, use unisex bathrooms, be apathetically/indifferently bisexual, and, I dunno, have special cigarettes for women? No, that was mostly about insufficient imagination in a culture just a couple of years removed from the world of Mad Men. Was it that women would become the dominant sex and give up men, shave their heads, braid their armpit hair, and wear nothing but Birkenstocks, wool socks, and purple mu-mus? And definitely no bras because they'd all been burned? No, and besides, that possibility existed mostly in the fevered imaginations of (male) sitcoms and late-night comedy sketches.

So what was the crucial fallacy of early 2nd-wave feminism? Via DailyKOS, Laurie Penny says, I think correctly, it was the meme that feminism meant women could "have it all."

Without wishing to sound like a conspiracy theorist, if I had to invent a way to undermine feminism as a socially useful movement, here's what I'd do. I'd set up a ridiculous standard of personal and professional attainment, one that would be unachievable for the vast majority of women who weren't independently wealthy, white and upper-middle class and I'd call it "having it all". After I'd set up this impossible standard, I'd be sure to make women feel like failures for not attaining it.

Source: The Independent

 Yeah, about that "having it all" business?  Where you can simultaneously have a great education, a brilliant career, a fulfilling social life, a rich and complex family life, feed your family fabulous, balanced meals that you cook from scratch yourself, completely immerse yourselves in your children's upbringing, keep your house spotless, have a wild and tireless sex life with your spouse (or, if a single mother, with an enviable stable of beaux that includes Mark Ruffalo, Hugh Laurie, George Clooney, and Ryan Gosling) and, I guess, never ever grab the wrong remote control while using the tv/cable/x-box/dvr/stereo?

Yeah, that?

Folks, if anyone knows anybody, male or female, who ever could or ever can "have it all" I'll kiss my own behind! So why on this big blue marble would anyone think the benchmark for the success of feminism would be "having it all?

To paraphrase my very successful, accomplished, and well-rounded cousin (who came pretty close) when you see someone and think he or she "has it all" it means you just don't know them very well.

Sweet mother of pearl!  Have you gotten a load of Anne-Marie Slaughter's life lately?  That woman's hella accomplished!  She's got a lot!  She's a former dean and current endowed-chair professor at a prestigious university! She had a great 2-year stint as a crucial policy maker for the United States State Department under Secretary of State Hillary Clinton!  She's a darn good mom.  Sounds like she's got a pretty good marriage.  And she's deft enough, well-connected enough, accomplished enough, and talented enough to contribute to cover articles in The Atlantic Monthly!  That's admirable!  Enviable!  By any measure an amazingly long string of successes!

The only fault I can really pin on her is an incredible gullibility when it comes to what someone, somewhere decided had to be the core promise of feminism back in the 1970s.  And her credulity on that point turns out to be a pretty significant fault.

Because instead of swinging from the Princeton and/or State Department and/or Atlantic Monthly headquarters flagpole hollering "I'm top of the world" she sees herself as such a miserable failure that she... got another cover story complaining about it!

Listen, gang, nobody has it all.  But guess what?  Nobody needs to have it all in order either to be a happy, healthy, well-rounded person or... for feminism to be working just fine.

Instead the only real promise of feminism, for women and men, is that there aren't going to be any bullshit social, economic, political, or domestic barriers to being whoever you actually really are.  All the rest? The ordinary constraints we face in the actual physical world, like the numbers of hours in a day, the number of years in a lifetime, the demands on our immune systems, the forces of gravity and atmospheric pressure?  Only a propagandist or his dupes would think feminism, or any other manner of -ism, ought to let us transcend that.

Sheesh! 

So here's a little gap missing from the narrative of men who'd "stick it in anything that moves."

You know how there's all this anxiety out there about "ugly" vulvas?  I mean, of course you do! Look at all the articles about labioplasty! Look at all the very-real anxious questions sent to sex-advice columnists.  And... and...

Why is there no comparable frenzy trying to help men "cure" their "ugly" penises?  I mean, yeah, men get anxious about penis size, but even though there's at least as much variation in penis appearance as there is in vulva and labia appearance you just don't see guys worrying that, say, a large glans or a loose foreskin or the other veins are so "abnormal" their partners won't want to... well... be partners with them.

Which is funny because, again, there's the common narrative that women are so picky about their male partners they'll fall over themselves looking for excuses to say no, while men on the other hand are supposed to be so desperate for any kind of partner at all that we'll have sex with sheep!

And yet.

And yet.

Who exactly is it worrying about turning their partners off with the sheer lippiness of their "forbidden treasures?"

This is so not an indictment of women's alleged vanity.  Or men's alleged callousness.  Or allegations about women's indifference or men's squeamishness.  Or anything having to do with any single individual's decisions with their actual individual partners.  Instead it's a question about the difference between the stories we tell each other about what men and women care about, and what men and women actually care about.