We Be Fuqt

Col Lawrence Wilkerson is clearly an idiot. I don’t know how Maher can deal with people like him.

I recently moved to Richmond, Va. I went out exploring the town, and went to check out the gay community center because I figured they’d have a list of the good gyms to work out at, where to go out to drink at, and just general attractions for a gay guy. It happened that night they were have a vigil for the victims. I arrived at the tail end, so I just heard the benediction.

What I heard made me mad. The speaker was obviously well-indoctrinated to far-left speech. He talked about hate crimes, and how they affect QPOC (queer people of color, and yes, he used the acronym) and how we need to do more for QPOC as the greatest victims, subtly implying it was somehow white supremacy that Omar Mateen shot up a Latin club. I got the distinct vibe that he blames white people for a lot of things. He hit the usual buzzwords of “rising above hate” and “love will overcome”. He concluded it by reading one of those letter “poems”, starting a sentence with each letter from the word respect and telling us how we should behave ourselves to get along with others. They were all fairly condescending, delivered in the tone fat women use to complain to the waitress. I remember the E was “Everybody is different, so you should treat everyone the same”. Throughout was the feel that he was blaming us, the vigil goers in Richmond for not being accepting enough.

He finally finished his virtue signaling. I looked around at the crowd, and it bothered me too. I was dressed in blue jeans and a plain t-shirt, not good attire for a vigil, but in my defense I hadn’t planned on one. Sadly, most other people were worse. A fat, lumpy 20 year old man in a stupid looking steam punk kilt; drag queens; malnourished twinks in girls’ booty shorts and tank tops; latex corsets on fat lesbians; atrocious facial piercings; ugly aposematic hair; and just generally bad clothing. The pamphlets they gave out for the service said that they had volunteers if anyone needed to talk. I looked around for other, more useful services, like self-defense classes or handgun training, but there weren’t any. Just talking.

And that’s when it hit me. No one was actually shocked by the shooting. I’ve had a couple of shocks in my life, and all of them have made me change my thinking and reorient myself. A shock that doesn’t change anything isn’t a shock; it’s just a surprise. No one was changing their opinion. No one was adapting. No one was even talking about what needed to happen. We can all talk about it and how it was terrible; but no one wants to acknowledge that it wasn’t unexpected or random.

Doing so means we have to break our pro-diversity, pro-uniqueness, no-judgment attitudes to recognize there are violent incompatible factions of people who will never adapt and never accept us. Tolerance isn’t possible, and it never was. And how do we handle it? The gay community has basically made it our persona to be nonthreatening and cuddly. We wear flamboyant, nonthreatening clothing; we listen to bubble-gum pop with catchy dance beats; even our movement’s flag looks like something that in another time could have been a preschool mural. It was fine when the opposition was American with an American disgust at violence as part of the political process. Chick-fil-a doesn’t kill you if you don’t eat with them. But it won’t do against the Mateens and Al-Baghdadis of the world.

So this is where the gays, and probably most America is as well. At a time when we need to be an eagle, powerful and assertive, we’re a peacock. A tacky, ornate peacock doing protest struts in a field full of jackals. We flaunt our beautiful virtue, waving around heavy plumage with markings of tolerance and pride in our tolerance, all while losing our ability to fly. I don’t know what we need to do to wake up. And the jackals are closing in.