IGF CultureWatch

Old Age too creeps up on little cat feet. It happens while you are busy doing something else, usually something far more interesting. And it happens so gradually that you don't realize it is happening to you. Which is fine because it really isn't a big deal.

When we were young we all expected being old to feel very different from being young, but it doesn't, at least not enough to be a qualitative change. More often, getting older is something that you notice in other people, not in yourself.

But once in a while you get clues from the way other people behave toward you. More people call you "Sir" or "Mister." Nobody calls you "Dude" or "Guy." Once I was called "Grandpa." A few weeks ago I was carrying some groceries onto a bus and a young woman offered me her seat. Sales clerks seem more willing to offer assistance, I suppose thinking I am more likely to need it. A casual acquaintance at a bar recently asked how old I was and let out a little gasp when I told him, as if to say, "What? And not dead yet?"

Another clue is that most of your old college professors, all the major modern thinkers you learned from, most of the modern authors whose books you enjoyed are now dead--even the long-lived ones. Just to take a few recent examples, Milton Friedman, Kurt Vonnegut, Barbara Gittings. Many others died further back--in the 1970s and 1980s. You get the disconcerting feeling that it all depends on your generation now. I sure hope the others are doing their part because I can't do it alone.

You become vaguely aware that time grows shorter, that there are a lot of things you've been meaning to do "someday" and that if you don't do them pretty soon you won't get them done ever. As of my birthday a few days ago, the actuarial tables give me several more years, which isn't so bad, really. You can do a lot in several years.

But the point is that somewhere along in the aging process you begin to take seriously the idea that life has a terminus and that--surprisingly--this actually applies to you too. This is nothing as big and gloomy as the Existentialists' "sense of one's own mortality," just a kind of "Oh, if not now (or soon), then never."

So you have to begin a kind of triage among your various goals, casting aside the less important and never-very-heartfelt ones (e.g., reading Proust), and resolve at least to begin working on the others. In the last few years, for instance, I've been spending some of my free time learning more about art to make up for a deficiency in my education. It turned out to be enjoyable as well as interesting.

For the same reason, I've started occasionally reading some books generally regarded as a "classic," many of which turned out to be pretty good. Other people will have different goals: travel to a foreign country they have never seen, taking up a hobby or craft, getting involved in local politics. Whatever it is, it is time to do it.

One of the most common beliefs about growing older is that aging is accompanied by a decline in energy level. No doubt that is true. But the decline is so gradual that you hardly notice it and scarcely feel the loss as it is occurring. Don't worry about it. Just accept it as part of the gift of a long life. A lot of gay men never got that gift.

One of the great benefits of growing older is the natural ability to act mature. Most of us who are older have, I think, developed a kind of reserve and restraint, a degree of emotional stability, a bemused attitude toward life, a greater degree of empathy in our relationships, and a broader perspective. Those are gains not to be disguised or abandoned.

Once in a while you see some older gay man acting as if he were in his 20s, as if he thinks that is a great age to be. It doesn't work. In fact, it only highlights how old he really is by drawing attention to his failure to be what he is trying for. People, including the young, will respect you more for being a good example of whatever age you really are.

And frankly, young gays need older gay people as exemplars of how they themselves can grow up rather than remaining, for lack of visible alternatives, in the state of perpetual adolescence we sometimes see in younger gays at the bars. Our "culture," such as it is, must get over the excessive focus on youth and youthfulness. Even if it is only a stereotype, it is one that we help perpetuate by not challenging it directly.

In a recent column I wrote about a Christian couple who invited me to dinner during one of my lecture tours. I first met the husband when he stood up during a Q&A session after one of my talks. He described himself as theologically conservative but politically liberal, opposed to same-sex religious unions but supportive of civil marriage and adoption for gays, skeptical of reconciling biblical faith with homosexuality but open to arguments for doing so. We met for coffee later, and then he and his wife-who had previously been complete strangers to me-invited me to their home for dinner.

There we had a delightful evening discussing many subjects, including the impending wedding of my partner Mark's sister, an event which would bring me together with my in-laws, who despise me for "corrupting" their son. That story prompted the wife, during grace before the meal, to call God's blessing on me, my relationship, and the impending family gathering. Though I am not a religious believer, I was deeply touched by this act of kindness, and so I wrote about it. I had hoped that my account of the evening might show what people of good will can accomplish when they focus more on their shared values than on their differences; more on listening and learning than on winning.

It should have come as no surprise to me that Peter LaBarbera completely missed that point, instead using the column as an occasion for his usual anti-gay drivel. LaBarbera, who operates the website "Americans For Truth (About Homosexuality)," posted a response at the Independent Gay Forum which read in part:

"[The wife] erred in asking a holy God to bless a relationship based on sexual misbehavior clearly condemned by the same "God-breathed" Scripture that [she] surely regards as inerrant. [She] may and probably did have some secret prayer regarding your relationship-say, that it become non-sexual-but by asking God, before you, to "bless" it wrongly implied God's acceptance, and thereby misled you about the Christian faith."

For the record, I did not take the wife's blessing to imply approval of the sexual aspect of my relationship. As I wrote in the original column, the husband had voiced his theological misgivings about homosexuality, and I had no reason to think his wife's views differed on this point. Rather, I assumed that she was simply calling God's love upon us-no more, no less. As another respondent, "Casey", wrote eloquently:

"By praying that your partnership be blessed-that God's hand would be upon it, and His Spirit would open the eyes of Mark's family that their cruelty was wrong-this couple was behaving in a most Christian manner…. For somebody who is deeply skeptical of homosexuality, yet sees the humanity and suffering of the way Mark's parents treat you, the ultimate sacrifice possible, the act of radical love, was to give up their certainty of what is right and wrong and just love you by offering that prayer and accepting you into their home...and letting God sort it out."

Unlike Casey, I wouldn't say that this couple "gave up their certainty of what is right and wrong" that evening, any more than I gave up mine. Rather, we distinguished: there are times to moralize, and then there are times to listen to people, to welcome people, to love people.

I would even agree with LaBarbera that loving people sometimes means telling them that they're wrong. Sometimes, but not every moment. Sometimes it means telling them that they're right about certain things (as I did with LaBarbera in the first sentence of this paragraph). Sometimes it means enjoying a meal with them while exploring shared interests. And sometimes it means just shutting up and listening.

The reason Peter LaBarbera's "Americans for Truth" website contains so little truth is that LaBarbera is incapable of listening when it comes to the topic of homosexuality. He believes himself to have the Truth-capital T-and so he arrogantly proclaims what a "holy God" can and cannot do. He reads a tale of Christian charity in an uncharitable light, causing him to make false assumptions about both the couple's intentions and my reactions. He reduces a complex human relationship to "sexual misbehavior," then wonders at how his fellow Christians might imagine God there. Like the Pharisees who merit Jesus' wrath in the Gospels, he forgets that belief in an infallible God does not render one infallible.

Peter LaBarbera claims to be "for truth" about gays and lesbians. He should try listening to some.

National gay groups are pushing Congress to pass a new and dramatically expanded federal hate crimes law. While the effort has strong emotional and symbolic appeal, it probably has little practical value and may forestall legislation that really can make a difference in the lives of gay Americans.

The current federal hate-crimes law was passed in 1968. It covers crimes motivated by bias against a person's race, ethnicity, national origin, or religion. It allows federal prosecution only where the victim is engaged in a federally protected activity (like a civil-rights demonstration). A separate federal law requires the FBI to report the incidence of hate crimes, including anti-gay crimes.

The proposed law would add sexual orientation, gender, gender identity, and disability to the already protected categories. But it would do more than simply add these new categories to a pre-existing law. It would also allow federal investigation and prosecution of hate crimes regardless of the victim's involvement in a federally protected activity. Thus while it adds more categories it also enlarges the scope of the existing federal hate crimes law.

Having myself been a victim of such an attack 17 years ago, I know anti-gay violence tends to be especially vicious. Hate crimes put a whole group of people under fear of attack.

Some opponents of hate-crimes laws have worried that they will be used to punish speech or thought because they focus on a person's motivation in committing a crime. This isn't a very strong objection. Law constantly inquires into motive and these laws have not been used to punish "hate speech." Law legitimately gives special protection to especially vulnerable victims.

But will a new federal law do anything to stop hate crimes? Supporters argue it will do two things. First, it allows federal prosecution of anti-gay crimes -- something that until now has been left to the states. Second, it gives resources to local authorities to investigate and prosecute anti-gay crimes on their own.

I am skeptical about the practical value of hate-crimes laws. All but seven states already have them, and 24 of these state laws include anti-gay crimes. Passage of a federal bill will improve by some degree the likelihood of punishing offenders for attacks that have already occurred, but that could be done without creating special categories of protection.

We now have almost 40 years of experience with these laws, yet there's no evidence they have actually reduced hate crimes. A new federal law will not likely deter future violence.

Here's why. Bias crimes are especially irrational, welling up from deep hatreds, resentments, and fears that law can hardly touch. They're often committed by young males in their teens and early 20s who don't know the nuances in criminal law and whose animalistic behavior is probably not very responsive to nice legal incentives. Neither the prospect of federal (as opposed to state) prosecution nor the threat of additional time in prison (beyond what the offender would get anyway) will deter bias attacks.

Supporters also argue that local authorities need federal help to prosecute hate crimes, citing the Matthew Shepard case as an example of the high cost involved. But that crime was prosecuted without federal help and supporters cite no hate crimes that have gone unpunished because of expense.

Besides, lack of resources is a common complaint of police and prosecutors. They'd always love more money, but there is no evidence that this is a problem unique to hate crimes. Perhaps the federal government should help, but why give special assistance to the prosecution of one class of crimes that seems no more costly than another?

Further, the investigation and prosecution of violent crime, with a few exceptions, has traditionally been the job of the states. There is no evidence that local and state authorities are systematically ignoring hate crimes under existing laws.

Sure, some law enforcement authorities in isolated jurisdictions have occasionally seemed insufficiently concerned about anti-gay crimes. But where is the evidence of widespread, systematic underenforcement to justify a federal law covering every jurisdiction in all 50 states? We should have such evidence before the federal government intrudes on yet another area of traditional state authority.

Aside from these dubious instrumental rationales for hate-crimes laws, the purpose of them seems entirely symbolic. Like much other legislation, they are primarily mechanisms for groups to raise morale and achieve recognition. That's not unimportant.

But while law can properly send messages about tolerance and inclusion in a variety of ways, purely symbolic criminal laws are a bad idea. They allow authorities to posture morally at the cost of threatening people with loss of liberty and increasing opportunities for prosecutorial abuse. This was one of many problems with sodomy laws.

No doubt national gay-rights groups, especially the Human Rights Campaign, are looking for a victory early in the new Congress to show long-suffering donors and skeptical bloggers they can be effective. Winning on hate crimes may also reassure members of Congress that they can vote for a pro-gay bill without serious repercussions. Other important issues, like employment protection and DADT, are on the horizon. An "anti-crime" measure is the easiest first step and may actually get President Bush's signature, leading to more progress later.

But passing this seemingly symbolic bill may have the opposite effect. It may give the new Congress a "pass" -- allowing Democrats to say they have done something "pro-gay" and freeing them to avoid the harder and far more consequential questions of military service and protecting gay families in the law. These are issues, unlike hate crimes, about which Congress really can do something of practical value.

Over the last several years, a number of gay and lesbian characters have appeared in mainstream comic books, most often as incidental or occasional characters, but in a few cases, as important main characters.

You might remember "The Rawhide Kid," an older comic character who was reinvented for a five part series as a super gunslinger and gay man with a modern gay sensibility and exquisite taste but inserted back into the old west.

Gay novelist Robert Rodi's comic series just a few years ago, "Code Name: Knockout," was one of the most enjoyable--smart, funny, and entirely gay positive with a gay male sidekick for the voluptuous heroine.

But the most significant gay characters have to be Apollo and the Midnighter, ongoing major characters in the ensemble cast of the science fiction comic series "The Authority." Like the other main characters Apollo and the Midnighter are genetically enhanced super-humans who live on a sort of spaceship and spend their time fighting super-villains on earth as well as from the future, other dimensions, and parallel universes.

Blond Apollo can fly and is nourished by solar radiation. The Midnighter, clad entirely in black, is the ultimate fighting machine who can anticipate his opponents' moves. The origin of their relationship is obscure, but they are deeply in love and their relationship is comfortably accepted by the other members of the Authority.

Their relationship is not always in the forefront of the action, but it is constantly there as part of the background. In one episode where they were separated and their survival was in doubt, when they were reunited they hugged and kissed passionately, leading another character to yell playfully, "Hey, you two, get a room."

Midnighter is apparently a popular character. He now has his own series as well. In one recent issue (No. 5) when Midnighter encounters some friendly people from the 96th century, one of the women asks if he wants to have sex, and Midnighter explains that he is gay. The concept makes no sense to her and she eventually explains that in her time there is no gender-based sexual preference at all. At that Midnighter bursts out laughing and exclaims "That's great. That really is outstanding," and then louder, "Hey, can you hear me in the Bible Belt? You're all wasting your time."

In the following issue (No. 6) the Apollo-Midnighter relationship is re-imagined as taking place in Shogunate Japan. Midnighter is a wandering samurai who is hired by the Shogun after he kills the Shogun's guards who challenge him. Eventually Apollo, also a wandering samurai, passes by and after a standoff in the briefest of sparing, they agree not to fight. Instead they become lovers.

Apollo joins the Shogun's household and tells the fascinated Shogun of the many things he has seen in his wide travels. "It was a joyful time," says the Midnighter. "By day I did my duty. The nights were ours." Fearing to lose his power and influence, the Shogun's prime minister hires men to kill the pair in their bed. The two fight back killing all the attackers, but Apollo too is killed. His last words to Midnighter: "I love you."

Midnighter buries him in a wooded area. "We were happy in these woods," he explains. "We walked together and the shining sun seemed not one-tenth as bright as he. It seemed a fitting place." Bereft, Midnighter leaves the Shogun's service, but returns a year later to kill the prime minister.

This story is told as a series of flashbacks to a group of samurai swordsmen Midnighter has lured to Apollo's gravesite by sending each an invitation addressed to "To the greatest swordsman in all the land." Throughout Midnighter's story, the assembled samurai express disgust and revulsion at the idea of two men as lovers and seek to challenge and kill him. At the end Midnighter springs upon them and kills them all, leaving their bodies as a sacrifice to his dead lover.

The narrative that continues inside Midnighter's head explains, "Every year I come here and bring my lover (sacrifices). And every year I weep for it is all I know." And he walks off alone under a cloudy, wintry sky.

It is a depressing ending, but in a way satisfying as a gay revenge fantasy. Still, I cannot imagine what the young straight men who typically buy comic books make of this. Maybe they are lured by the vividly depicted violence and gore itself. Or maybe they adjust the revenge motif to their own particular targets. Or maybe, just maybe, they absorb the notion that homophobia springs from irrational hatred and deserves to be condemned.