I was thrilled to receive a gift of a Bee Gees puzzle from my younger sister Lars last month. This is not a joke: I was thrilled to get a 200 piece puzzle of the Bee Gees. I love the Bee Gees, and not in the half-assed way that it’s become acceptable to love the Bee Gees, either. They’re not a “guilty pleasure.” Nor is “their early stuff actually pretty good” to me. I love the disco stuff from the 70’s just as much as I love their British Invasion stuff. They were my first favorite band. I grew up with them. My love, like all first loves, is crystalline and perfect: unencumbered by the cloudy complications that attend my “grown up” affections. (I love Neko Case, for example, but I’ve backed away from her latest work, which seems stiff and agenda-addled to me.) As a Bee Gees fan, I’ve become accustomed to snide comments and backhanded compliments. After all, the Bee Gees have been given a bad rap. When called upon to do so, I’ve been their defender and I’ll defend them again in this story. Like the contents of the box handed to me by my sister, this story is a jumble of pieces of the past: a past as distant as the summer of 1981, when my love for the Bee Gees became a full-tilt obsession and as recent as May 27, 2014, when I attended Barry Gibb’s “Mythology” Tour at the United Center in Chicago. Read the rest of this entry »
The glow emanating from this, the Gaytheist Christmas Card 2013, is golden– a butterscotch, if you will. Like butterscotch, its sweetness is undermined by its stickiness. It’s the kind of stickiness you encounter when handling a “live” Christmas tree: the sap is snarlingly soap resistant, rendering you a laughable Edward Stickerhands.
Take heart, my sticky babies– at least you don’t smell like you have a Pine-Sol problem! Your problem can be solved by a small child– a child who personifies the salvation of this hectic, overextended, and overwrought season, a child who redeemed us all by casually handing Santa’s candy cane and his “be a good little girl” jive back to him–in several small, symbolically potent pieces. In the spirit of this holiday miracle, the Gaytheist Gospel Hour wishes you and yours a very merry Up Yours, Christmas!