Bloody Valentines

So, it’s coming round to that time of year again where we are encouraged, if not enforced, to enact expressions of dedicated love to the specious – sorry, special someone in our lives. To shower them with precious gifts and Hallmark cards by way of declaring everlasting love and undying commitment.

It’s the time of year when those of us who are single are forcibly reminded of the mainstream consciousness that to be a solo player is to be the poor lamb whose life is not yet whole because we haven’t found our other half: “But why are you single? You’re so NICE!”

I’m no expert in Darwinian theory, but it seems to me that since Carl Wittman wrote his “Gay Manifesto” in 1969 there has been regression, rather than progression, when it comes to gay matters of the heart. A couple of million years ago, we were little more than monkeys, sitting around playing with each other’s bits without any fuss or fanfare. Then along came the church, and ideas of respectability, and propriety, and the imposition of an ideology that demanded lifelong commitment between a man and a woman. Ideas of sexual and social liberation blossomed in the 1960s and 70s but now, in the 21st century, it seems everywhere I turn gay men are hellbent on apeing this out-of-date straight model of relationships.

In his recent book, Boy Crazy, Michael Shelton suggests that the monogamous model might not even be completely natural for heterosexuals beyond the period of about four years – the point at which, statistically, many relationships draw to a close. The argument for the historical relevance of this pattern is that the first four years of a growing infant’s life constitute a period in which it is most vulnerable and requires maximum support and protection, best achieved by both parents remaining in close proximity. So, historically, a (temporary) committed partnership had a practical purpose – literally for the sake of a child’s survival. Beyond this, there is no natural necessity for complete lifelong sexual exclusivity for straights. In fact, males sowing their wild oats widely is a beneficial strategy for engendering genetic diversity.

So, when a rational deconstruction of the monogamous model suggests that for straights it is non-essential, and for benders it is completely irrelevant, why the persistence of the idea that we should all aspire to partner up with a handsome prince?

My theory of this devolution is that we are in the grip of a romantic tyranny, which is manifest as a cultural epidemic of codependency, one that is evident in the majority of Hollywood movies and in practically every love song. Romance is frequently written into the script as a tool for the entrapment of another person. Assumptions about who the desired partner is take precedence over the reality of who he/she is; and the conditions of the relationship, tied up with expectations of how it should evolve, are sewn down before the true dynamics of the relationship are given space to be expressed authentically.

Gay marriage, when founded on this romantic ideology rather than on practical concerns, is not a forward-looking concept. Instead, it is a retrograde bourgeois fantasy. And, more insidious still, it is one which holds at its crux a diminishing deferment to heterosexual hegemony; it is an act of retreat into the shadows of the status quo: “we recognise that straight people do it better; but, look, we’ve exchanged rings, too, so we’re almost as good as you, really!”

Now, I understand that in the early days of a relationship the excitement, verve, and sexual spark can mean we do wish to focus on this one person over all others; that exclusivity comes easy, even naturally. But the honeymoon period doesn’t last; it can’t, because the basic fact is our brain chemistry won’t let it. So, promises of enduring love and exclusive commitment are unwise – you are likely to change your mind.

There is nothing wrong with exchanging gifts of love, on any day of the year, provided the wrapping paper doesn’t conceal a hidden agenda. But, for my money, the most meaningful thing you can do this Valentine’s Day is to divorce yourself from expectation and duty, release yourself from the grip of romantic tyranny, lean across to your loved one and softly whisper these three little words: cards kill trees.

Dickie Beau and Timberlina, in association with the Gay Mafia behind the Pride Legacy Project, present A (pre-)VALENTINE’S DAY MASSACRE on Tuesday 10th February at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, with special guest, David Mills. Doors, 7.30pm. Show @ 8.30pm. Entrance: a fiver.