from Sunday, June29th of the year2008.
Tonight, as I was transferring in the tube, some man gestured to me. I thought he was going to ask for directions, so I took off my headphones. Instead, he slurred, “What’s your mom doing tonight, if you’ve borrowed her dress?” (I was wearing a lab coat, double-breasted, white, gorgeous). I put my headphones on and marched on. Then I got home to my hotel and read this article, about some retarded Anglican conservatives who are talking about something something not wanting to allow gay people something else something else:
Anglican conservatives, frustrated by the continuing stalemate over homosexuality in the Anglican Communion, declared on Sunday that they would defy the church’s historic lines of authority and create a new power bloc within the church led by a council of predominantly African archbishops. […] They depicted their efforts as the culmination of an anti-colonial struggle against the church’s seat of power in Great Britain, whose missionaries first brought Anglican Christianity to the developing world. The conservatives say many of the descendants of those Anglican missionaries in Britain and North America are now following what they call a “false gospel” that allows a malleable, liberal interpretation of Scripture.
LOL! I love how they’re talking about how hating on gay people is the culmination of, like, Ethnic Swaraji Politics. I sort of wish Gayatri and shit would drop everything and address this so I don’t have to deal with it on my blog. It is sort of fascinating, of course. The Church of England as a colonial side-dish (or main course, depending on which classes you took in college) rolled into Africa, made everybody Anglican, and all they got were these stupid Anglo Proclivities. It is, legitimately, an interesting argument, because of course, the global south is still, through the remaining colonial religious structures, beholden to the shifting fashions of the Golbal North. They inherited a whole system of beliefs that is rooted not only in OrÃ¾ódox Christianity from, you know, the time of Christ, but also a whole culture of English Christianity that deeply rolls from the King James Bible to the music sung during services to Sherry in the Chaplain’s Roomz and everything else, including some things that Bishop Akinola is not so fond of. Whatever. She can take it or leave it, as far as I’m concerned. That’s how I approach the church: I take what I like (which is most of it) and the rest of it, I stick my fingers in my ears and sing Spem in Alium. Part of me wants to first address the whole issue of gays in the military before I start harping on African homophobes, because god knows I have other fish to poach, but seriously, I find it so inappropriate.
Also: What even is the Anglican Communion without the gays? Aren’t there other things in Rwanda that require the clergy’s attention? Aren’t there weird pygmy swaraj issues they should be addressing first before h8ing on what I do before and after church? For which, chances are, I have written some beautiful music? (PS, those Pygmies have also written some beautiful music. For my Rwandan readers, next time you want to talk about abomination, why don’t you go figure out what those pygmy polyrhythms are and fax that shit to me, because I still cannot figure it out. Maybe I’m too busy with all that Sodomy or whatever, but it’s a mystery to me and I, as a pledging Anglican, need your help!) What are those bitches doing, running around Africa in they purple robes? What is THEIR mom doing tonight, if they already borrowed her dress?
(My mom, for her part, is probably poaching some fish in a light stock right now. And she borrowed my dress the other week to cook pizza for me, my boyfriend, another homosexual, his dog, and my father, and she looked fierce).