The sun is

shining, the birds are singing, and the homeless people are out. All is right with the world. Except for the use of the word ‘queer ‘(and the fact that somebody practically ran me over with their motorised wheelchair today). The reason I want to talk about ‘queer’ is because I had a hand in prostituting this word. I realize that Shakespeare says all words are ‘wanton’ (sorry I won’t mention him again) but in this case, it’s just gotta stop. I speak of the new random use of a word that used to be reserved for the lucky demonized and damned few. These days everyone — especially the young — are calling themselves queer. Mostly young women, I will say. Usually it goes like this, if you are under 21 and a woman, you are ‘queer.’ You could be living with a man and having sex with him nightly in the missionary position -- but all that doesn’t matter. You identify as queer, and it doesn’t matter if you live in the suburbs and mummy and daddy are paying not only for your rent, but his also; you have decided you are queer, and dammit to hell, who has the right to tell you that you’re not? With young men under 21 it’s quite a different story; you wouldn’t go near ‘queer’ with a 10 foot pole (although you ardently wish that you had one), unless you are remarkably effeminate -- in other words can’t hold a bat or a ball (i.e. the kind you throw in the air) and you’ve also got a gay voice, and 'Gayface,' in fact the whole gay kit and caboodle (in fact if you're like me, your 'caboodle' is probably the gayest thing about you!). Anyway, if you are unfortunate enough to be under 21, and a young man, and girly too, then what you will do nowadays is paint your nails many different colours (not just red) and — when asked about your sexual orientation at parties — you will say, with a certain air of detached superiority ‘I’m non-binary.’ The subtext is: “Why are you asking me about my sexual identity? Are you some sort of abuser? Don’t you know sexual identity is over, it’s all about gender identity now? Okay. Full stop. (Pause.) How did we get here? As far as I can tell, it’s a trend. And also, because if you are ‘queer,’ it makes you a better person. And who wouldn’t want to be a better person? Especially these days, when cancelling hangs over everyone’s head like the sword of Damocles? Each and every woman alive seems to want to be a better person these days. And the cute cats and cute causes that populate their Facebook pages attest to their social responsibility and their niceness. But with boys, there is another issue — being nice and kind is sometimes suspect — isn’t being kind -- kind of gay? And the last thing anyone wants is -- to be gay. Gay means old white men drooling over sex and pornography, and dressing in leather, and -- no no no no no NO! Nobody wants that. So young men, again, will keep their distance from the 'queer thing,' though, when pressed at parties (and who wouldn’t wish to press a lovely young man at a party?) they are likely to answer ‘I’m an ally.’ An ally — in case you don’t know what it is (and there are rules to being an ally, let me tell you)—  it's something akin to being ‘questioning.’ ‘Questioning’ means you don’t know what the hell you are, but if given time enough you’ll come up with an inscrutable moniker and yell loudly that it must be added to the LGBTQA acronym. This is what queer has become; and yes I contributed to this, back in the day, when I ran Buddies in Bad Times Theatre. In 1994 we moved into our home at 12 Alexander Street in Toronto with several other companies — Native Earth Performing Arts, DNA Theatre, Platform Nine Theatre and The Augusta Company. Back then, Buddies was a gay and lesbian theatre company. We were queer. What made us queer? Well, I’m about to say some words that you may not like. And that is really the essence of what is wrong here -- I mean that I should feel any insecurity about saying these words to you in 2021. When we began fighting for gay liberation so many years ago we figured there would be no more ‘bad language’ when it came to sex, because our project was not just to make you love gays and lesbians -- but to make you love sex -- and yes, to love your own body. Alright, brace yourself. I’m going to say the words. We were queer because we were proud male cocksuckers, and -- proud female carpet munchers (I only use the term ‘carpet munchers’ in lieu of what might be perhaps an even less politically correct epithet, who knows, I'm appropriating, I am not a lesbian). We had to pay a price for our queerness; which was that everyone knew what we liked to do in bed -- it was dirty dirty same-sex stuff,  stuff nobody wanted to talk about, stuff a lot of people disapproved of -- and a lot of people, in fact, hated us for. Nevertheless I, foolishly -- because I loved the founders of Native Earth, DNA, Platform Nine and Augusta, so much -- said to them “You know what, I consider you  queer too, because you’re all kind crazy arty outlaws. So from now on, I’ll say that all of us here at 12 Alexander Street are queer.’ Now I regret that. Not because these people weren’t kind, crazy, arty outlaws — and most of them still are — but well, sorry, most of them weren’t actually queer. Because to be a queer you’ve got to go down on your knees in an alley -- or wherever -- and do the stuff nobody wants to talk about. Period. And you have to be proud of doing that. Period. If not then you don’t any right to call yourself a queer. Queer is a label that we suffered for and therefore now own — and when you try and claim it for yourself because it’s trendy, or it makes you look ‘nice’ you are spitting on those who suffered for gay and sexual liberation -- those who suffered so much -- so that someday you would not be ripped apart from stem to stern when walking down the street wearing your favourite nail polish. Jesus. I think it’s time to call a betrayal a betrayal. Yes, and I will say it, men died of AIDS being cursed as 'queer,' and no one cared. Things were done, things happened, and that’s history — and though the young would like to act is if they appeared magically, like maggots on carrion, in fact the opposite is true. The reason you are here — as much as you may like to forget it, is, alas, because once there was sex. And to top it all off, we were proud of doing it, too.