Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

It's War!

There are many important questions in the life of a Gentleman Who Can't Throw, like do these season's colours really go with my complexion and should we actually like Gwen Stephani. Sure, she's one of the more accessible rap artists, but frankly the last album she's done contains yodelling and I can't not imagine one Gentleman Who Dances Well having a nervous childhood flashback to 'Heidi' at that one.

Yet something even more important is on the horizon. For anyone who's strayed into H&M lately (and survived the static shocks from all that polyester) will have noticed that culture magpie Madonna has set up stall in there, getting her withered claws on a range of clothing especially for the ladies. Though I refuse to say 'of a certain age' - Madge may be from the Dark Times, but she's very with it, yes. And if you're looking for a mid-range pair of kitten-heeled silver strappies, look no further.

And while I was passing said store, I noticed several of these items in the window and something strange came over me. I wanted them, dear reader. Not in a tranny way - let me say it's been a while since I've been in a pair of tights. And it was for a good cause: to this day Jake Gyllenhall thinks he just got pissed and slept with a very hairy woman with back-door proclivities. But eyeing up these mixed-cotton separates through the protective glass, I decided that these items of clothing weren't just for average women to get sick all down on the last bus home - they were merchandise.

You see, we gays are a godless bunch on the whole. Not necessarily by choice - as I've said here and here, it's mostly because we've often been told that 'God has turned his back on us' as soon as we started raising our legs skyward instead of our prayers. Of course, I dispute this - She would never have deserted us then have created low-fat dressing, the feathered head-dress, and put Matthew Fox and Speedos on the same planet, would She?

As I stared at Madge's faux-silk halter-top and wondered if it was through this that The Gays would find religion? You see, we are capable of worship, but we tend to like our sermons in a snappy four-minute format with a good beat behind it. You may admit to yourself that you know more about Madonna Ciccone than that of most religious figures, and it does make sense to worship what you know. I must say that I've never felt the urge to pray to Madonna; I'm more a Kylie devotee. Madonna for me is more the Catholic model - 'I exist therefore you must worship me'; whereas Kylie is a little more Buddhist in her relation to her fans - 'You worship me therefore I exist'. But saying that, Our Lady of Melbourne has recently been through her own trial and resurrection, appearing 40 days and nights later she's back with a winsome smile and a kicky little headscarf. Perhaps we Gays should be taking her as our icon after all.

Course this means that Steps are the Scientologists of the group - no-one knows why they're being worshiped, but their followers think they know better than everyone else and one day there will be a reckoning, oh yes. The Supremes are the old Gods of Greek mythology: a group of deities that, it turns out, one of them is more powerful after all. And Lisa Scott-Lee is the Jahovah's Witness, as no-one knows or talks to them either. Oh yes, if this all became doctrine, and we Gays did find find organised religion, the one possible conclusion is Holy War. For instance, the same H&M have just employed Kylie to do their lady's swimwear this season, meaning that this store is our very own Palestine, with both sides wanting the territories for worship and not before too long you'll have Suicide Bummers in the woman's separates.

Although, come to think about it, we're a passive people at best and we wouldn't do well at war. I genuinely think we, The Gays, were put on this earth just to jolly it up a bit, make it that little bit more fabulous - not to fight, oppress or force anything down any one's throat (well, not without dinner and dancing first, natch). Let the other bullying religions battle it out; we'll quietly sit on the sidelines with our little statues of our Lady Madonna on the dashboards of our cars, and the velvet prints of Lady Kylie above our fireplaces. We'll come 'round when you're done and tidy up the mess you'll make of everything.

You see, the Gay Holy Wars could never happen. No-one would be willing to fight if America's Next Top Model was on the telly that night.


Owen Blacker said...

Suicide Bummers? Is there no end to your fabulous ways with words? :o)

Anonymous said...

I'm a gay who doesn't like Madonna or Kylie - does that mean I'm going to hell?

CyberPete said...

I did my bit for my god.

Been dancing around for hours on end in my gold stilettos with my H&M Loves Kylie sarong

I am indeed spinning around, oh yes!

La Muck said...

Mecca= H&M. God I miss it, I still pray at sunset towards the London Express bus stop...