The year in queer

Heckuva year. Heckuvan understatement.

Spectacular people like Melissa Etheridge spoke tirelessly and frankly about breast cancer and the toxins that cause it. The mighty real Cindy Sheehan rebranded that "Army of One" slogan with her one-woman encampment outside the Bush bivouac in Crawford, Texas, calmly brushing aside incoming from the Swift Boat Mothers for Sacrifice of Sons. Harriet Miers, Condoleezza Rice, Mr. Karen Hughes, Judith Miller, Barbara Bush--all members of Bush's Vestal Virgin: Special Victims Unit--got dishonorable mention for keeping the Bush fires burning.

Besides real women, some fictional women need to get a shout-out. Geena Davis, as the first woman president, is doing some cultural carpet-bombing for the notion that a woman could hold the highest office in the land. To show her toughness, they don't call her the more civilian Madame President but the more militaristic Commander in Chief, a fine point not lost on Hillary.

Back in the day, the famous used to have to come out with Diane Sawyer as their media midwife. Now Olivia Cruises, the lesbian vacation-recreation conglomerate, is the sporting midwife for pro golfer Rosie Jones, eternal tennis legend Martina Navratilova, and WNBA basketball star Sheryl Swoopes. Olivia's lead in fighting homophobia in sports has caused some to wonder if there will ever be an Oliver Cruise.

Mother Nature had quite a run of it this year. Some might cynically think that bad karma for the 2000 "election" caused so many hurricanes to rip through Florida. One such woman lives in my building. The catastrophic trifecta of hurricane, tsunami, and earthquake laid bare critical issue fissures. It was so bad that Bill Clinton and George the 41st began talking. Mother Nature showed what it takes to get people to work together.

Speaking of family, it was a big year for Holy Fathers. Pope John Paul II was replaced by your worst papal nightmare, the Widow Ratzinger. In response to the pedophilia scandal, Benny the Dict ordered up "apostolic visitations" (Aramaic for "Inquisition") to American seminaries to purify them of the abomination of homosexuality. Think bombing Iraq when you've been attacked by Saudis. I bribed an inquisitor with a season pass to the Vault in P-town and got a sneak peek at the interrogators' list. Some are definitely trick questions: How many times have you watched The Song of Bernadette? Does your censorium swing both ways? The 12 apostles--who was the cutest? Can you say "Hail Mary!" in an unironic way?

Among LGBT people, the emotion at the beginning of the year was a nagging guilt that we had somehow caused the defeat of John Kerry through our thoughtless and ill-timed insistence on our rights. The Diebold electronic voting machine people appreciated the distraction. When homophobia begins at home, it is insidious. I knew I was in trouble when I thought I had heard that the post-Katrina flooding was caused by "weakened dykes." But lately I've noticed gay guilt is being replaced by gay gloating. To quote an old queen, "It's been an annus horribilis."

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