Pulp Fiction

I stumbled into a neat antiques store here in Purple-state America, with a selection of pulp fiction, men's "physique" magazines from the 1950s, and lesbian pulp fiction.

Back before Stonewall, pulp novels were the way that many a lesbian learned that she was not the only person in the world who felt "that way", that we had a name, places where we congregated, and (in most pulps) a violent death as the wages of sin. Though most lesbian pulps from the 50s and 60s were exploitative and voyeuristic, some were written by working-class lesbians (Ann Bannon and Vin Packer, I heart you) who could have never been published in that era by any "real" publisher. Pulps were a way for lesbians to communicate, learn, and validate their own existence.

Which is why I've begun collecting pulps -- as proof that we existed in, and survived, rougher times than this. Here's the back cover text from my new acquisition, "I Am a Lesbian", publ. 1958:

Stories relating to lesbianism are very numerous today. This is surely proof that people are interested in the subject and its treatment. Lesbians are a part of our society and they will very likely remain so. In this book Lora Sela does not write that its characters have *tendencies*; instead they are *real* lesbians whose hearts are as warm and deserving of understanding as any other segment of our human life.

You are not welcome here.

Visiting a purple state on business, I stopped by a pizza joint, ordered a slice, and sat down with the town's alternative weekly newspaper. I read about the GOP candidate, putting the goober in gubernatorial, and how he thinks that feminists and homosexuals are destroying America. He was asked if that meant he wouldn't appoint a gay judge, and responded "It would depend on his actions." So, if a gay lawyer spends hours fantasizing about smooth pectoral muscles, but never actually goes on a date, then he's a fine candidate for the bench. Right?

I got so mad, reading the alt-weekly, waiting for my pizza. How dare this governor-wannabe force his religion on the rest of us. Do I tell him how to live his life? Which god to believe in? How to pray to her?

Here I am, in one of the few states where astronomy jobs are currently being advertised, and here's the leading candidate for governor, telling me I am not welcome in his state, nor my family, nor our values.

I finished the pizza, walked down the street, past the opposition candidate's local storefront headquarters. I doubled back, walked in, and gave them $20.

If the media were smarter, they'd ignore Fred Phelps

You've probably heard of the "preacher" Fred Phelps from Topeka, who drags his family around the country protesting same-sex weddings, funerals of gay men, funerals of American soldiers, and anything else he thinks will get him on TV.

You probably know, educated readers that you are, that Fred Phelps represents no one beyond his immediate family. He's a nutball, pure and simple. He's also extremely savvy: most of his family are lawyers, and they try to provoke violence against them in order to manufacture a lawsuit.

You know a reporter is lazy when an article contains a line about"Protesters of gay rights stood outside", and the photo illustrating this point shows Phelps' distinctive signs (huge square fonts, the theme "God Hates ______", and liberal use of the word "fag"). They're easy to spot once you know what they look like. Clearly, a reporter isn't digging hard when the "local protesters" are out-of-town Phelpsers, screaming for attention.

Many folks are wise to Phelps, and greet his demonstrations with creative counter-protests. My favorite is getting people to pledge a small donation to HIV/AIDS charities for every minute he lingers.

Lauren Ober covered today's counter-protest in Vermont, as marriage equality becomes legal there today. (Linked from her pal Alison Bechdel's blog.) Below is my favorite photo from her coverage.