Tag Archives: celebrity homophobia

When your literary heroes turn out to be jerks

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This post was pre-empted by my two-part young adult librarian panel.  So, not exactly catching the wave of outrage toward Bret Easton Ellis, but something I wanted to post none-the-less.

I’ve had it with Bret Easton Ellis.  I’m disavowing my fanhood, and will no longer buy his books.

I defend free speech, am pretty sympathetic and forgiving of human fallibility, and I don’t expect more intelligence from celebrities than I do from anyone else.

But Ellis went off on a ridiculously irresponsible tear, for which he has been totally unapologetic.

It started with his Twitter observations on the TV series Glee, and continued with his commentary on the It Gets Better campaign.

“why is it that every time I watch an episode I feel like I’ve stepped into a puddle of HIV?”

Then, in response to angry replies…

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll stop riffing on H.I.Glee…”

Later, on It Gets Better…

“I hate that s**t about ‘It Gets Better.’ It doesn’t. Retool it. Say ‘You Get Stronger.’ The narcissism of gays is out of f**king control…”

I rarely watch Glee, though I support the concept and am personally and professionally surrounded by Glee-heads (Gleeks?). And I respect thoughtful debate over It Gets Better.

But Ellis “riffing” on gay people being gross, diseased and selfish–from his platform, to his fans–is wrong. At this point, I don’t care if he has personal issues to work out. He’s not a 13 year old discovering social media for the first time. Talk about those issues in therapy.

Ellis is a brilliant writer, but as a person, he stinks. I wish I knew less about his personal opinions, but I do. There’s no turning back. To lay out money for his books just feels disingenuous.

He’s a complex, seductive kind of villain. I kind of want to root for him, and I do hope he gets his shit together.  Maybe one day he’ll realize that his personal struggle—that squeamish, threatening feeling provoked by two guys kissing, singing showtunes or otherwise being ‘effeminate’—really does get better.

But there are plenty of other authors producing good stuff, while maintaining a professional public persona, doing what they’re supposed to do:  keeping a boundary around their personal issues.

Follow me on Twitter!!

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If it’s working for Sebastian Bach, I figured, maybe it could work for me.

Sebastian Bach being the heavy metal blond ultra-hottie of Skid Row fame.  Few people get my infatuation with him, since—among his self-destructive public antics—he once wore a t-shirt on stage with the slogan:   AIDS Kills Fags Dead.  Pretty outrageously offensive for sure, so why do I still dig the guy?   I’m not self-loathing, and I’m not particularly forgiving of celebrity homophobia.   For example, I wasn’t especially impressed by retractions from Shia Labeouf and Andre Agassi when each of them committed similarly hateful PR.   Call me a hypocrite, or shallow.   But to Bach’s credit, he has repeatedly apologized for having made a dumb decision—metal heads do grow up—and he’s made good by donating money to AIDS charities through his participation in Broadway Cares.

So you can now follow my hypocritical, or shallow, musings on Twitter, where it’s a race to see who can come up with the most to say.   Or, more to the point, it’s a race to see who can come up with anything worthwhile to say.   I make no promises about my own tweets.

I’m following about three dozen tweeters.   Some are related to my literary interests or the publishing biz.   Others keep me informed about my favorite not-for-profit organizations like the ACLU and Amnesty International.   I try to keep my celebrity crushes in check, but I couldn’t resist following Criss Angel, Trent Reznor and Dr. Drew plus, of course, Sebastian Bach.  Back next Wednesday with (hopefully) a more substantive post.

For now, I will leave you with some inspiring lyrics.

Tequila in his heartbeat,

His veins burned gasoline,

It kept his motor running,

But it never kept him clean.

They say he loved adventure,

“Ricky’s the wild one.”

He married trouble and had a courtship with a gun.

Bang Bang Shoot ’em up,

The party never ends.

You can’t think of dying when the bottle’s your best friend.

~

from “18 and Life” by David Sabo and Rachel Bolan Soundworth