One of our favorites. Definition #3 is the bad one.
By Smaktakula
Like so much of the English language, ‘Gay’ has a variety of connotations. Here are the three most common definitions, told with pictures rather than words.
1) Oldest Definition.
Generally considered archaic.
Ex:The joys of the Christmas season left everyone feeling quite gay.
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2) Contemporary definition.
Not just happy–Fabulous.
Ex:Evan’s not very good at sports because he’s gay.*
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3) Pejorative Definition.
Most recent variant, circa 1980s.
Ex:He’s got a tattoo of a Camaro on his back, and it’s super-fucking gay.
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Some rare and wondrous creatures manage to embody all three definitions simultaneously:
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*A note to potentially offended readers: It should be obvious that any implication that gay people make poor athletes is intended for humorous purposes, and does not reflect the actual opinions of Promethean Times. In fact there have been many outstanding homosexual athletes…
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Promethean Times 
I once saw Liberace in concert. I was very young, and the only thing I remember is his elaborate costumes, all of which had fuzzy balls hanging from them. Then he’d go up to people in the front row and ask if they wanted to hold his “balls.” Well, duh, who wouldn’t?…
That is so awesome! I’ve heard two other accounts of people who personally met Liberace, and both people said he was one of the nicest people they had met–a real gentleman. One of those people was my mom. The other was a girl I used to date whose parents were Las Vegas showfolk, and who were good friends with Liberace. Apparently, when she was 3 years old, my GF had been at a Liberace show where he pointed her out and said, “Hey little girl, stop picking your nose!” She was mortified, and sixteen years later, she would still end the story with, “And I wasn’t picking my nose!” Despite that, she said he was a wonderful man.
He must’ve been pretty cool. I remember little about my childhood (which isn’t always a bad thing…), but I remember Liberace’s balls.
I remember little about my childhood (which isn’t always a bad thing…), but I remember Liberace’s balls.
Well, I think you have the opening line to your next novel.
I was initially surprised to hear you say you didn’t remember much about your childhood, but when I think about it, it makes sense (and while this sounds like the windup to a jab, it’s not). In your writing at least, you’re a very ‘in-the-now’ person, present and forward-looking. You don’t generally reminisce, except in the service of a larger point.
While I do think of myself as forward-thinking to a degree, the past is very much a part of me (and unfortunately, I can’t think of a way to say that without it sounding creepy or sad–but I don’t mean it that way), and I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking everyone is that way.
Well, most years of my ‘current’ life have been better than the ones before it,
Note: I fucked up Carrie’s comment in attempting to reply to it. There was more–a tease about her next novel. Smaktakula
It makes me exceedingly happy to hear that. A happy childhood is wasted on a miserable adult. But to a happy adult, an unpleasant childhood is just a story from someone else’s life.
Well said. Now you have your own opening line.
Richard Simmons is probably the epitome of a lot of things I would never want to be. Even in his prime he was nails on a chalkboard to me.
I hear you. He’s one of the few celebrities I’ve ever encountered at random. Someday I’ll tell that short and hopefully-amusing tale. In the meantime, however, you’ve given me something to think about. By referring to Richard Simmons’ “prime,” you reminded me that he in fact had a prime. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. I’ll bet you hadn’t either.
I admit the #3 definition is the bad one. It confuses things that’s for sure. I don’t use it out of respect for gay people. It’s their word. And, the oldest definition will stand, out of tradition.
I just reread my comment…I mean it’s everybody’s word. I mean no disrespect to people who just happen to be gay.