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bright young boy who can sing (or dance, or do anything "artistic"). That's largely what gave me the psychological fortitude required to endure the schlock: the fact that a real boy was involved (a victim, in fact, whom I could fantasize about saving from the sophisticated savagery). What I can't identify with is the grotesque gender-bending extravaganza making a show of him, making a mockery of his sex, winking affirmatively at his sexuality only by "trans-ing" it, emasculating it. I defer to Sick Rose's excellent recent essay here concerning what it means to "queer" and "marginalize" -- well, everything, without limit. |