When I say ‘The End of the World’ I mean the end of the world as I know it.
1) Gay apparently only happened in the past and is now exclusively played by straights.
I know we’re supposed to be really happy that we have three gay Christmas movies this year but could they be any straighter? Tom Hardy, Cate Blanchett and Eddie Redmayne all play gay people from the past. But umm…they’re all straight in real life. And um…what
about dealing with modern gay issues? Carol made me cry, but what about a real gay situation like: ‘‘My girlfriend and I are dykes but now she wants to get dick surgery!’ or ‘I want to marry my 23 year old gay boyfriend but he’s on meth and is addicted to hooking up for unsafe sex online?’ Oh no, it’s all 60s British psychopaths, kisses in the snow, and butch Eddie Redmayne — so damn straight in those interviews about The Danish Girl that I could kill him with a gun. Ugh. Well, I’m sure he just wants another Oscar.
2) Tyler Oakley.
Have you seen this guy? He’s a youtube sensation. He’s 27 and holds mass slumber parties for fat girls and jumps up and down in ‘onesies’ and high heels (if you don’t know what a ‘onesie’ is then you are definitely very very old) . And what is the Tyler Oakley phenomenon? Well, remember once, there was Dan Savage — kinda out there, kinda non-monogamous — and kinda sexual? Well the new gay role model is Youtube Sensation Tyler Oakley, and like everything else these days, he is all about the kids. The fan base for his shows is mainly female and 13-17 years old (this would be the crowd that feels they have moved beyond Hunger Games). I was trying to figure out exactly what Tyler Oakley stands for and all I could come up with was — he supports your body image issues and he is very much in favour gay marriage. But where do you stand on anal fisting,Tyler?
3) Donald Trump and Rob Ford.
Need I say more?
4) No more cocktails or Splenda.
This is beyond huge. I walked into a Queen Street bar the other day, gazed lovinglyup at the thirty or so whiskey bottles under the mirror and politely requested a cocktail. The very hot guy behind the bar looked at me like I had lost my noodle. “We don’t serve cocktails,” he said, with great disdain “only wine, beer and booze straight up." Well pardon me for being such a girly man. But much more distressing is the disappearance of artificial sweeteners from the coffee bars on Queen Street West. You should have seen the expression of the face of the bun-headed barista when I asked for Splenda. “We have honey.” Well sorry, I didn’t take a shit on the floor, I just didn’t realize that craving aspartame was now actually a crime.
5) You can’t get a good blow job anymore
without having to chat up some damn hipster. What are you doing hanging out in a back room if you just want to have a caustic chat? And why do you want to have sex with me? I’m old enough to be your very old….father.
6) My computer knows more about me than I do.
No, really. I used to ignore those purchasing suggestions that Amazon used to make. But, oddly chillingly and frighteningly, those suggestions have recently become, well….right on.
Jeesh.
7. My students at university don’t shock me anymore.
I shock them.
8. You can’t turn on a tap anymore. Or flush a toilet for that matter.
I go to plays and movies and operas etc a lot and there we are, the sad guys, all lined up at the sink flicking our hands around under the faucets, this way and that, randomly touching things that look like they might trigger water — and swearing. ‘How do you turn this damn thing on? Oh great you found one that worked. Can I put my hands under it? How come it worked for you and not for me. Do I have the wrong hands?’ I mean Is this sanitary? All the toilets now have piles of shit in them cuz all the toilets are supposed to flush themselves but don’t. Can somebody call the health department pull-eaze?
9. The oddest people are suddenly aboriginal.
I know I’m going to get into trouble for saying this. But what’s going on? I knew you as a white girl but suddenly you’ve found out that you have an aboriginal ancestor somewhere and you just won’t shut up about it. I’m all for learning about another culture
but not from some mainly white girl who looks white and who everybody thought was white until last week she decided she suddenly discovered she had a proud heritage that is the very essence of her and that she now talks about, everywhere, every day, on every freaking website there is.
10. The end of intermissions is the end of the world.
I’ve ranted about this before. But it’s gotten so out of hand. Routinely now, house programs say the show is an hour and a half long with no intermission and then you get there and find out that it’s really two hours long and it’s Soulpepper and you’re in the middle of the row and you can’t leave without waking up some oldster who’s asleep beside you.
Enough already.
YOU’RE JUST AFRAID THE CRITICS ARE GOING TO SAY YOUR WORK ISN’T PROFOUND ENOUGH TO WARRANT AN INTERMISSION. WELL SO WHAT IF THEY DO? WHO CARES WHAT THEY SAY ANYWAY?
I saw an old (1905) play in New York City this fall. There were three acts and two intermissions. Each act was a half hour long.
Sigh.
