Various awakenings

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So I have to admit that the gratuitously graphic straight sex scene between two teens at the end of Act I in the electric Broadway musical Spring Awakening, which I finally saw last night, kind of turned me on. Okay, it really turned me on! The scene with the insanely gorgeous gay boy (played by Jonathan Wright) masturbating to Desdemona, on the other hand, did not. But it did make me chuckle—as did the unusually high quotient of lesbians in the audience. What was it that brought so many dykes to the theater last night? Was it the nubile teen-girl stars? Fond memories of longing for the short-haired hottie in composer Duncan Sheik's "Barely Breathing" video? Or some sort of organized, discounted outing?

Anyway, my favorite part of the evening was seeing how blown-away all the 50-and-over fags were when the show ended. Some were crying, others were actually speechless (can you even imagine?). "It's just a whole new... just a whole new...," one wet-eyed guy sputtered to his date, most likely recalling his own high-school days, when being a Broadway queen was just not allowed, and now here he was, watching two gay boys make out on a Broadway stage. "Oh, I am so seeing this again and again!" another man declared outside of the theater, twirling in the lovely snow flurries that swirled around the crowd. "I'm getting the CD, the DVD, the shirts. Oh my God! It was amazing!" It was all quite beautiful, really—until gay-male misogyny reared its ugly head in the form of this overheard sentiment (WARNING, THIS IS A PLOT SPOILER): "This woman in front of me started to cry, and I was like, whatever. Women died of abortions every day!" Shut up, queen.

Oops, sorry.

But I'm actually not done ranting, because, although anyone who knows me knows I'm a big fan of City Council Speaker Christine Quinn, what could she possibly be thinking by going on record against the not-yet-formally-proposed foie gras ban???? I think she may be thinking that she doesn't want to align herself with the lesbian-vegan-animal-rights scene—which, granted, is prone to having plenty of crazies among its ranks (don't freak out, PETA folks, because I am one)—but seriously, who the hell needs foie gras? Quinn writes in her constituent letter that "I do not believe banning foie gras would have a major beneficial effect on the lives of New Yorkers." Um, actually it would, because consuming the fatty, slimy liver is gross and unhealthy. And such a ban certainly wouldn't hurt New Yorkers—only the tortured, force-fed geese, for chrissakes. Chris, you wouldn't want your dog force-fed, right? So please, embrace your inner crazy lezzie vegan, okay? Just this once!

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