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Gay Rant

Teen Wolf

Tyler Posey The Teen Wolf Star and Lil'Kevin Iwashina

Hollywood.  Nice to be back for a few days.  Even nicer to drag myself out of Malibu and up the 10 Freeway to Toby Wilkin’s birthday party.

Miles came with me.  Robby was stuck at work…and sick.

I wore a very chic black suit and tee-shirt with a picture of a scantily clad woman on it.  Hair much longer than it has been for weeks and sporting a fuller beard.

The little dog loves Toby.  He jumps around on his back legs whenever he sees him.

Many beautiful, interesting boys.  Two girls.

Jeff Davis writer of MTV’s new Teen Wolf series told me that he insisted the gay character in his very promising new show be played by an out gay man.

That was brave, or perhaps reckless in Hollywood?  I have no idea.

I applaud Jeff’s audacity.

Maybe things really are a’changing?

Had longest chat with rich gay about US equality politics.  Of course I remember his name but it wouldn’t be polite to mention it.  Even though I told him that I would blog about the party I don’t think he thought I would blog about him in particular.

He is as passionate as I am about gay equality though his solution seems very different to mine.

We agreed that both HRC and GLAAD  are getting it wrong.  But where as I think change needs to start with an aggressive ad campaign that positively validates us, our love and our history…his strategy boiled down to making lawyers richer by changing things judicially.

I suggested that men like him and David Geffen and women like Ellen should publicly stop paying their taxes until they have equal billing..he balked.

I urged him to ‘take the bullet’ if he truly believes in equality.  I reminded him that there were men and women in Yemen this very night risking their lives for freedom, equality and democracy.

I didn’t necessarily agree with his point of view but tried (unusually) to look for the similarities rather than the differences.  I was feeling, shall we say, diplomatic.

Another Ken Mehlman apologist.   Apparently, even though our Ken has been a very bad gay he can help us by getting Republicans to speak out for gay marriage.  Oh gawd.  That argument is nearly as convincing as trickle down economics.

My new friend was a firm believer that all things gay are good and we should not under any circumstance be questioned or challenged.

He seemed perplexed when I suggested that by keeping our own side of the street clean we might attract rather than promote people to our cause.  We seldom ever look at our own behaviour, morals or lack of them.

He told me rather imperiously that he did not have any friends with drug or alcohol abuse issues.  Forgetting of course that his good friend Elton has been sober for many years after many more years of a torturous drug and alcohol problem.

He had not read or even heard of The Velvet Rage.

We parted on good terms.

One young queen kept hounding The Little Dog.  The Little Dog took offence and tried to bite him.   Oh how we laughed.

Generally very good party even though I missed the sausages.

Almost the entire Teen Wolf cast in attendance.

Bumped into my very old friend Tom D who scarcely recognised me.  I must look very old.  He claimed it was the beard.  He has become a hugely successful and incredibly well-respected producer.  We hugged a lot and agreed to meet very soon.

The beautiful Dane and I are going on an adventure.   Watch this space.

Categories
art Gay Love

Stephen Fry: National Treasure

Gore Vidal with Dennis and Elizabeth Kucinich

The past few days have been lovely.

Breakups are never usually times to relish but this breakup has been very good to me.

This is exactly the time in my life to take action and find a new perspective.

I took action by finding my peers in gay AA who might, in turn, shed some light on my relationship with the other.

In the scheme of things I was just an inconsequential blip in his life and I would be kidding myself if I thought differently.

I certainly could not compare with his other enduring relationships.    Anyhow, we seem to be communicating like friends and I am largely over what he may or may not be doing-though sitting here alone writing causes me a certain doleful curiosity.

Let me tell you about the past few days.

On Saturday I went to the Gagosian Gallery in Beverly Hills to see the Andreas Gursky show with my friend Dom.  We ate lunch at the Montage-he had the steak tartar and I, the charcouterie.

The Gursky show was good but uninspiring.  Huge photographs framed in monstrous oak frames.    Big forgettable pictures…that’s all.

Huge photographs of the insides of neutrino splitting machines buried miles under Japan and filled with super purified water.  Satellite images of the great oceans.  It was all spectacle and no substance.

After our gallery visit I bought a pair of very baggy white trousers in some outlet store.  Gucci $48.

We popped into the new Missoni on Rodeo designed by my once boyfriend Patrick Kinmonth.  The outside is PERFECT, like a huge basket, woven metal softening the corner of Rodeo and Little Santa Monica.

The inside, however, is a bit of a mess.

I suppose the concept is the shopper wanders down a grand boulevard with variously sized vitrine to grab ones attention.   It was too theatrical.

The men’s area, the woman’s area, the home store etc.  It doesn’t work, it’s a mess. The interior finishes are very beautiful but the layout left too much to be desired.

Again, the outside is exquisite.

I could tell you very wonderful stories about Patrick but I will save them for another day.

The last time I saw Patrick Kinmonth he was reclining on a velvet sofa at the Chateau Marmont with Mario Testino.

He drawled that I could have been so much more than I was.  He is, after all,  a very grand queen; something I long abandoned aspiring to be but glad that I had the chance to meet.

For a few glorious months at the age of 21 he totally indulged me.

Sadly, I didn’t really fall for him.  I fell in love with his impeccable style.

Actually, he may very well be the Diana Vreeland of our age.  That plaudit might have been reserved for Hamish Bowles but Hamish doesn’t dress well enough or take enough care with his appearance.

Saturday night we celebrated Josh’s continuing testicular cancer treatment.  Every one of his friend brought ball-shaped hors d’œuvre to commiserate his recent loss and the chemo that began today.

He is an incredibly brave 29-year-old and described his cancer as an ‘inconvenience’.   I have huge respect for that young man.

GLADD awards and party on Saturday night that I was not invited to.  Odd really as I was the only out gay man in recovery ever on a Dr Drew show.  I am definitely not pretty enough for GLADD.

I suppose that this was the Velvet Mafia’s way of expressing their disapproval.   The sex addict message is not one the gays are eager to hear.

Even though conversion parties, bug chasing and crystal meth are discussed at length amongst the young gay men I know.  Perhaps this is only a myth?  A meth myth?  It is much easier for the gay community to concentrate on attacks from the outside than focus on the damage we do to ourselves.

Dane

On Sunday I met Gore Vidal again (the last time was with Dennis and Elizabeth Kucinich during Dennis’s run for President) he described the sad state of the USA, describing it as rotten and then said (rather surprisingly) that he would like his bones buried in France and not, as he has always said, beside his lover in Washington.

I wonder if he was just being dramatic.  It was lovely to see him…  even though he is beyond frail.

Others at the party included the divine Ben Barns who played the other Dorian Gray, he told me how disappointed by the film he was.

Quite right!  Not nearly as interesting as our deeply flawed Dorian.    Eric Mc Cormack, Rufus Sewell and Michael Sheen all friends from different places and all at Stephen’s party.  I had a wonderful time.

So nice to be included by someone who the British might describe as a National Treasure.

Stephen is, of course, the most gracious of all hosts.  The food was excellent, the Pellegrino..well there’s not much more I can’t tell you about Pellegrino.

I took my friend Dane who looked a bit like Tarzan.  He was wearing a tiny black vest… nipples like peanuts.

Met a British director called Toby and after Stephen’s we decided to hit WeHo where I met a whole host of adoring sex rehab fans but regardless of their drunken attempts to get into my boxer briefs-I slept alone.

It is simply too soon to start meeting folk again-especially after the feast of affection, love and intimacy I have gorged myself on this past few months.

If I miss anything about dear old HIM I miss that I will never kiss him again, that he will never nestle in my arms and sleep as lovers do.  Hey ho, that’s going to be a hard one to replicate any time soon.