It’s 2003 and I am 25, black, and frequently straight, and I like living here in the Castro. I walk outside and feel good. I am in the company of the persecuted, people who can empathize with my existential pain; people who know what it’s like to be pissed on for years. On top of the empathy, they might even want to fuck me and it feels good to be wanted. Some of my roommates can’t stand the long stares but I feed into it. I go to the Pilsner Inn, next to our apartment, behind their backs. I sit alone at the bar and drink glasses of Wild Turkey. They can’t always tell if I’m straight or gay in there and I like that I am capable of passing. But even when they know I am straight they don’t care because they think, he’s black and he’s been through enough. I smile, throw back the whiskey, and head out the door to get into trouble on the north side of town.
Dearest Gay Diary:
I can call you a faggot and I know I’m going to get a laugh from somebody. I’m taking something away from you when I do that. I’m making a point. I guess you could call me a nigger and you’d also be making a point. You know, all we’re doing here is marking each other as different, something less than the full-blown, all-powerful white male image. We’re chipping away at each other’s pure sexuality. Niggers can’t defend their women and faggots ain’t ever gonna be real men. You and I, Gay Diary, we should join forces. We should take ourselves out of the system that plays us against each other.
Yes, I know I should stop using these words but it’s so hard because I want to call that guy who cut me off a faggot, and that guy whining in class about the ten-page term paper the teacher assigned, the people in the office who complain when finances are tight and they stop giving us free booze on Fridays and worst of all those politicians whose actions defy the values they preach. They’re all fags.
And another thing, Gay Diary, could you give me some room here? And by give me some room I mean take your hands off my leg, you dirty little fag… hehe, I called you a fag. Oh dear me, there I go again, Gay Diary. You deserve to be mad at me. I know my hypocrisy comes on hard, like a late-summer rain… hehe, I said hard. I bet you’re thinking about a hard dick. In your mouth. I can’t quit you, Gay Diary. I try not to hate but with all these people coming down on my skin, sometimes not even knowing it — breaking out the joke that buries the night — I need my hate words too.
Your constant other and forever your brother,
Andre
From:louanne-rachel <[email protected]>
Reply-To: “Louanne-Rachel” <[email protected]>
Sent: Sunday, June 1, 2002 4:52 PM
To: “Andre Perry” <[email protected]>
Subject: RE: Dearest Gay Diary
well andre, you never cease to disgust me but while i’ve got you here I might as well weigh in. you just remember: every topper needs a bottom and my little darkie friend you’ll forever be playing both roles. the cocktail party is the battlefield and language is the weapon. so use your firearm of choice. bullets fly in both directions. en guarde. draw. touché.
you are an eternal thorn in my ass mr. perry. feel my prick, you cocksucker,
--louanne
i couldn’t have given you a straighter answer.
INT. A SOUNDSTAGE IN CHICAGO—DAY CUE: APPLAUSE
The lights come up and O is sitting in her plush leather chair. There is an empty seat across from her. She SMILES and WAVES at the audience.
O
Welcome back to today’s show, everyone. This is going to be a tough one, I think. For the first time ever I am going to talk about a book that is not on my book club list. It is Andre Perry’s Faggots Are the New Niggers.
GASPS in the audience.
O (CONT’D)
This book is highly controversial right now. Mr. Perry is catching heat from all sides for his hypocritical views on racism and homophobia. Everyone, please welcome Mr. Perry.
ANDRE walks onstage to a mix of applause and disapproving grunts. He SITS down in a leather chair across from O.
O
Hello, Andre.
ANDRE
Hey, O.
O places her hand on ANDRE’S knee briefly.
O
So, Andre, this here is one interesting book. It’s short but it sure does shock.
O LOOKS at the audience.
BEAT.
O (CONT’D)
Tell me, Andre, where does it all come from?
ANDRE
Well I guess it grew out of an essay that I wrote called “Language and Other Weapons.” I published that on my website, naggotsgo-figger.com, and I received quite a reaction so I thought I might squeeze a book out of it and make some money to help with my car payments.
O
Ha! Ain’t that the truth? Some audience laughter.
O (CONT’D)
But really, what is it inside of you that spawned these radical ideas?
ANDRE
I think it was my own personal issues and, you know, thoughts on the subject matter. I’ve got this idea that just dealing with being a black man might cause us to lash out, especially with anti-gay language. White men are already using this language so they’re not going to stop us from using it. They have no problem with us black folk getting away with homophobia especially within the black community. It spreads us apart even further. Yes, there are a lot of people still throwing around the n-word but seriously let’s all admit it’s a lot easier to get away with calling someone a faggot or even easier to call their style gay. If Peter Jennings called someone’s behavior niggerish on the nightly news he would be cast out but I bet he could get away with calling something gay. He wouldn’t get fired—he would just have to make some formal apology and social media would go nuts but eventually we’d see him back on television.
O
Peter Jennings is dead, Andre.
ANDRE
Whatever, he was a fag anyway.
Audience members GASP and BOO. Jump cut to: one MAN in the back row and his RAUCOUS LAUGHTER.
O
Moving on. Do you really think people can get away with anti-gay language?
ANDRE
Do you go outside? Do you remember when Kanye West came out and said: We need to stop being anti-gay in the hip-hop community. No one gave a damn. His statement received minimal coverage from the mainstream or hip-hop media outlets—and that was way before he went off the deep end.
O looks distressed.
ANDRE (CONT’D)
The system, I think, wants black people to use this language. We’re encouraged to because when we ask for our own rights they can point their fingers and say you guys call people faggots. And they’re right. Anything that makes us look worse and maintains the