Bitches in the Washington Blade

By bitches, I mean the ranting, whining, complaining kind that Phil Gramm talked about when he was being honest, rather than political.

The Bitches column in the Blade is a type of reality genre. It provides a guilty kind of pleasure for the reader, and a certain notoriety for the writers. Some of the quips/observations/idiocy rises to ironic, shallow entertainment. A lot of it is puerile crap, but even that has a morbid fascination value. Many of the writers appear obsessed with youth, looks, fashion, sex, and terribly failed relationships. Lesbians also come in for a fair amount of unfavorable comment, but not nearly the abuse older men (apparently, any guy over the age of 27) receive.

I point all of this out because I confess that I read this column every time I pick up the Blade. I catch myself chuckling at some of the lamebrain observations of what passes for gay in Washington, DC. For the most part, I don't see my gay friends, or gay me in it, and I often think of some nifty rejoinder that would probably get me bitch-slapped by a screaming 22-year old wearing some gay male version of a Jimmy Choo.

The column is offensive, but any public airing of artless prose ends up being offensive. Most of the writers appear to have the intellectual depth of a Jerry Springer reject. I suppose even they need a public forum. I am bothered by the amount of racism and misogyny that, on occasion, gets slathered on thickly in the column. While the George Bush Center for Intelligence out in McLean could be fooled into believing that the expressions in the column represent all gay opinion, don't you - gentle reader - carry the same misconception. Some of us airheads don't need to be published to prove our wit.