CarnalNation

New York magazine recently ran an article by Mark Harris called "The Gay Generation Gap," in which he describes that chasm perhaps best summarized as the binary thinking of the old versus the non-thinking of the new. As Harris rightly notes, "There's nothing duller than a young gay man whose curiosity about the world doesn't appear to extend past his iPod." While the lack of critical thinking skills in both old and young is disheartening, as a genderqueer person balanced between both gender and the gap (as a 39-year-old gay man in a bio female body I'm on the young side of Harris's 45 divide, though not by much) I found myself rooting for the bubble brains if only in self-interest.

You see, while many older queers still struggle to wrap their heads around the notion that the definition of bisexual is not "homo in denial," those iPod-loving youngsters are thinking strict concepts of gender and sexuality are so Madonna circa 1986 (so please, "Papa Don't Preach"!) In other words, the new queer generation's non-thinking includes not thinking about things that just don't matter anymore.

I must own up to the fact that for most of my life I've reacted to this binary mindset by brandishing sex as a non-lethal weapon against the LGBT crowd, more like snapping rubber bands than shooting bullets. For, as a gay male comfortable with being born into female form, there's a certain thrill that comes with giving the finger to the community that you identify with, but who you believe will never fully accept you.Which got me thinking that with this year's 40th anniversary of Stonewall, it's high time I made peace with the gay community, a relationship that's complicated at best for those of us in-betweeners who don't fit the rigid definitions of gender and sexuality that play so well to the mainstream. For example, irony dripped richly recently when I went with my gay platonic husband to The Belvedere Hotel in Cherry Grove out on Fire Island. Asking for a mere tour of the "male only" guesthouse, we were told that Jimmy could have a peek, but not me—by a cringingly apologetic black guy no less! (Which got me wondering, on what legal ground is this guesthouse standing by refusing me entry? Does a hotel with an outdated policy have to have a certain number of rooms in order to be held to anti-discrimination laws? But that's for another essay.)

Still, I must own up to the fact that for most of my life I've reacted to this binary mindset by brandishing sex as a non-lethal weapon against the LGBT crowd, more like snapping rubber bands than shooting bullets. For, as a gay male comfortable with being born into female form, there's a certain thrill that comes with giving the finger to the community that you identify with, but who you believe will never fully accept you. My own "Fuck you," to my fellow gays has always remained the childish "I can land the straight guys you can never get!" In the case of one of my MTF friends who dates married men from time to time, and who believes she'll never be fully accepted by the hetero females she identifies with, it results in the equally immature, "You might be wed to him, but I'm the object of desire that turns him on!"

Of course, the bitterness works both ways. I would be less than forthcoming if I didn't admit to a strong sadistic thrill in sleeping with those very same straight dudes, who I've also perceived as never being able to fully accept me for the man I am. This is my "I can never be the 100% woman you'll end up with but I can exact my own 'revenge' by being your worst nightmare!" ugliness side, also known as the "When you leave me for a real girl I can take comfort in the fact that my faggot mouth sucked your straight boy cock," reaction.

But interestingly, as the angry old queens fade into history and the more fluid, accepting youth arrive to take their place, I'm aware that my own antiquated, knee-jerk dramas too have become irrelevant. Less than two decades after my own "coming out," I can still get turned on when a straight guy I'm with is perceived as gay, since by extension, I can be perceived as the faggot I truly am. The difference now is I'm the only one who cares. And that itself is reason enough to take pride.