EDGE on the Net

Like most gay men I know, my news comes from the gym. For politics, I treadmill to CNN or MSNBC, for humor I watch Fox, and for trashy tabloid journalism I go right past E! and tune in to Larry King Live. Arts and Leisure are best discovered in the Locker Room.

Since Rachael Maddow and Anderson Cooper dominate the channels, rarely do I hear a thing about straight culture. The other day, however, some young woman with impossibly big breasts and impossibly bigger delusions of finding a man at a New York City gym turned on "My Antonio," a Reality TV show in which a bunch of airhead babes hope to nab former Calvin Klein star Antonio Sabato Jr.

I was mortified. On this particular episode, the "actor" forced women to walk across fire to reach him, claiming that the risk of third-degree burns was a true test of devotion. I learned something watching that hideous, revolting display of trash TV that I never quite realized until that afternoon. Heterosexuals are a doomed species; get out while you can.

No gay man would ever demean himself by being filmed walking across fire for Antonio Sabato Jr., because all gay men would walk across fire for a half-price Planter’s Punch, let alone a guy so hot we don’t care if he can’t spell his last name. Since we’ve already been filmed engaging in acts that make "My Antonio" look like "My Little Pony," you’re never going to interest us with amateur-hour stunts. Gays can read, enjoy cocktails, engage in pretend conversation, use our laptops, and successfully cruise at 37,000 feet without even overshooting our hand.

It’s no wonder the breeders are running scared; we’re turning the world on its ass faster than Joe Lieberman can kiss them. Culture’s already ours: You don’t have to be a rocket scientist (or alien visitor) to figure out that the "V" in America’s new hit sci-fi show is really an initial of the multiple kind. Get a closer look at the lipstick on that short-haired lovely and you’ll know she ain’t here to pleasure the men-folk. On "FlashForward," we’ve learned that six months from now only gun-toting lesbians will be having babies, while straight couples lie, drink to excess, and plot man’s destruction. (It took awhile, but they finally made a sitcom about the Cheney clan.)

Misguided heteros are fleeing to "Paranormal Activity" as if filming your sleep habits is the most dangerous thing to your health next to playing pro football. The ’Mos aren’t falling for the flick because we know who the ghost is. One look at those sad saps’ house and it’s clear HGTV’s producers are driving the tenants out so they can hurry up and get "Desperate Spaces" on the premises.

The queens are more civilized on the home front too. In New York, a crabby hetero couple is suing next-door co-op neighbor Madonna for playing instruments too loud. There’s a term for that in Gay America: It’s called "Free Madonna Tickets!" When some creepy straight man exposed David Letterman’s den of TV Studio iniquity, we were almost as sickened as the leaders of NOW. What people do in the privacy of their own homes is their business, but if you’re going to risk the whole world finding out about your salacious affairs, have the decency to do it with someone a little hotter than Dave.

If the gays had been in charge, Democrat Jon Corzine never would have been reduced to airing despicable, cheap-shot TV ads suggesting his Republican opponent, Chris Christie, was too overweight to lead the state. That’s because the gays never would have allowed a fat man to run in the first place.

While straighties were teaching their boys to grow up to be soldiers, we were told that, hell no, we’re not allowed to go. We stayed home and made love, not war, with our G.I. Joes, and taught them how to live in harmony and understanding with Ken and Transgender Barbie -- where do you think drag queens and undecideds like Tyra Banks found those hairstyles? The evilest mantra we recite is "Keep your friends close, and your enemies’ clothes."

I’m sure there are Right Wingers claiming I’m reducing gays to every bad stereotype imaginable, convinced that proves we’re unfit role models. And you know what? They’re onto something, those bible-thumping, gun-toting, gas-guzzling, tax-evading, race-hating, Constitution-crushing, Fascist-leaning, bigot-enriched, history-deprived, spouse-cheating, hypocritical misanthropic ignoramuses who aren’t fit to role model the clothes they wear, let alone children and other living things.

No wonder the folks in Maine repealed the same-sex marriage law. Hetero-only nuptials are all they’ve got. Without their straight-marriage club, the only thing Maine would have over the rest of us is an entrance to Canada and George Bush’s summer home. Even Christina would stay away from Andrew Wyeth’s former world.

Maggie Gallagher, the President of the National Organization for Marriage, kindly pointed out that she has "goodwill toward gay people," even though "we do not believe gay marriage is a civil right; we think it is a civil wrong."

Poor Maggie, she’s hurt that people like her are called "racists, bigots, discriminators or haters." Frankly, I don’t blame the woman. If you look up the term "Civil Rights," the labels attached to her are incorrect. Gallagher is first and foremost Anti-American, with the other names following suit. She’s either basing her opinions from a dimwitted understanding of the Constitution, or her self-righteous belief that theology trumps democracy. Either way she’s a traitor who’d be more useful in a monarchial society, like Saudi Arabia or Walmart.

Straight people are turning so jealous, they’re like vicious high school cheerleaders determined to keep us off the field. Granted, we dress better and dance better, but that shouldn’t be enough to turn them so bitter. We also have better taste in literature, and art and music and theater, but is that really enough to incite such envy? It’s possible, I suppose, that they’re pissed off because we don’t subscribe to the belief that it’s necessary to stop exercising and grooming and start succumbing to misery by the age of 30. Then there’s the fact that, unlike that bizarre straight custom, we actually admit to liking sex, especially with our partners.

Maybe it’s because heterosexual wives believe gay men make far more interesting friends than their husbands, not to mention lovers. But if it’s an issue as trivial as the fact that we’re responsible for some of the most profound philosophy and most beautiful plays written, and that we can paint a chapel to pristine perfection and still believe it’s life on this earth that’s sacred, then I fear all is lost and their time is up.

Cheer up, wanna-mos: It was never a competition and you’ve got plenty of accomplishments to be proud of. To paraphrase one of your own, "The only thing you have to fear is queer itself."