As I have written about before this is simply a move by Christian nationalists in the military and government to force everyone to conform to their religious beliefs and desires. This is again to return to the 1950s when it was normal for Christianity to seem like the dominant religion of the majority of people in the country. The reasons stated make so sense for the purpose claimed as Belle points out. This is a minority fundamentalist / evangelical believers trying to force their rule and beliefs onto the majority. Hugs
Dan McClellan explains why saying the bible is against homosexuality is wrong. The status of the male as the top of the hierarchy was of primary concern. Women were of a lower status than men. For a man to penetrate caused his status to fall to that of a woman. That was the sin of same sex acts in their society. So men were told not to penetrate other men as that lowered them to the position of women in their society. He points out that they felt that a man who wanted to be penetrated was thought to have a mental illness. He points out how the people of that time were not worried about female same sex acts because they did not lower anyone status because no penis was involved and no male was emasculated. McClellan points out that the bible really was only concerned with one side of the same gender act so it was not homosexuality that it condemned but the lowering of a male’s top position in society that was the issue. I have watched and posted a lot of his videos on sexuality in the bible and those who use the bible as a club to bash LGBTQ+ people with. He is a scholar so he gets into the weeds of the real meanings of the words that make up the text. He can be difficult to follow sometimes because of that. He also used the example of slavery in the bible and how it was used to justify owning another person as property. It is an interesting video that gets easier to understand towards the end as he wraps it all together and warns those who use the bible in this manner that they are causing a lot of harm to those who do not believe or think as they do on same sex acts. Hugs
The founder of a popular New York City LGBTQ+ book clubs talks queer literature, book clubs, and what she’s reading this summer for Pride Month.
“It’s so important for everyone to be reading queer books by queer authors,” Joey Lobel said. Envato/Cage Rivera/Rewire News Group
In late 2022, Joey Lobel was frustrated.
An avid reader, Lobel, a 31-year-old butcher in Brooklyn, was struggling to find queer books that didn’t have sad endings.
“I went on a little spiral and I thought, I’m sure other people are feeling the same way,” she said.
So Lobel decided to make a queer book club page on the social networking website Meetup, hoping to build community around LGBTQ+ reads. She wasn’t sure if people would show up. But “worst case scenario,” she recalled thinking, “I’m sitting at a bar with a book, which is completely fine.”
But people did show up. And in the nearly four years since the Queer Book Club started, Lobel’s book club has become a staple in New York City’s LGBTQ+ community—with monthly meetups at the Brooklyn bar Young Ethel’s and an average of between 15 and 30 participants. The book club’s one-off events, like book swaps, are popular and see upward of 60 attendees.
As summer gets underway, Lobel spoke to Rewire News Group about the importance of LGBTQ+ literature, generating a top-notch list of reads for Pride Month, and building community through books.
The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
What makes a book queer?
A book is queer if it’s written for queer people by queer people. There are so many books out there that have zero queer characters, or one passing queer character. And to me, that’s not necessarily considered a queer book. But any book written for us, with us in mind, I want to read.
Do you have an all-time favorite queer book or queer character?
That’s so hard. My all-time favorite queer book is In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. … I read a lot of books. And a lot of times, I sort of forget immediately. Like, you’re out of that world and you’re back in your world, and you forget what happened. But In the Dream House has always stuck with me.
Is queer literature for everyone?
I definitely believe queer literature is for everyone. You can learn from anyone. You can be entertained by anyone. And it’s important that we’re able to look at viewpoints other than our own. The amount of straight books that I’ve read in my life that I’ve enjoyed is vast. I just feel like it’s so important for everyone to be reading queer books by queer authors.
And to remind publishers that queer authors are authors people want to read.
There’s such a big audience out there. There are so many queer shows right now being canceled. There are such audiences for them, and they’re still being cancelled. We have to support queer media. And straight people have to support queer media. It’s enjoyable for everyone.
How do you approach building a queer summer reading list?
The reason I love the book club for figuring out what you’re going to read is that I’m always reading books that I would never choose on my own. If it was up to me, we’d be reading cute little rom-coms where everyone falls in love at the end. I love those, and there’s definitely space in my reading list for those—a big, big chunk of space.
I also like being able to read books that other people recommend to me. I look at a lot of Instagram recommendations.
There’s just so many books out there, it’s hard to choose. I also read so much more in the summer. So I try and hoard all of the books that I want to read until it gets warm. And then I’m outside just reading all day.
Speaking of, what are three books on your summer reading list?
I read this book previously, and I definitely want to reread it. It was incredible. It’s called Fracine’s Spectacular Crash and Burn by Renee Swindle. It’s so good. It’s about a young woman who loses her mom. And there’s a really interesting relationship dynamic in there with her mom who has passed, and with this young boy that she meets that she’s protecting, and someone that she starts dating. There’s so many layers to it that I want to reread it, because I know I’m going to get more of it the second time.
Right now, I’m reading Nevada by Imogen Binnie. That’s June’s book club pick. I’m halfway through, and it’s a really great book. It’s so different from the way that I see the world. From this character’s perspective, it’s a little darker and a little chaotic—more chaotic than I’m used to—which I think makes for an interesting dynamic to read about.
I also want to read Mac Crane’s new book, A Sharp Endless Need. Their last book, I Keep My Exoskeletons To Myself, was hauntingly beautiful—and not something I would gravitate toward because it’s not the rom-com, two girls falling in love. But we read it for book club and I was entranced. And that’s why I’m so glad that I get to read books that aren’t just my normal go-tos.
But one that is my normal go-to, which I haven’t read yet, is Puck by Samantha Allen. It’s been pitched to me as a Midsummer Night’s Dream spinoff with reality TV. And I’m already invested.
What advice do you have for people who are unsure about whether book clubs are for them?
There’s a lot of reasons why people might be a little nervous to join a book club. I was worried that I would have to always public speak, which is a little tough when you’re not feeling up to it. I was also worried that it would be tough finishing a book on a timeline—it does remind me a little bit of school, in that way. (Editor’s note: Lobel’s club has a rule that not finishing the monthly book is totally fine, so long as you’re “fine with spoilers.”)
But book clubs are very welcoming. You can just go in, and talk to people.
What’s the worst that can happen? You’re surrounded by other queer people who love books.
When approaching recent historical events, where the scope of destruction and loss can be unfathomable in scale, oral history can bring both connection and immediacy through individual stories of loss, grief, rescue, or triumph that would otherwise disappear in the grand sweep of “Great Men and their Deeds.”
[T]he method enables the documentation of certain aspects of historical experience that are often missing from other kinds of historical sources. Oral historians not only interview and engage in conversation with living sources, they also find themselves challenged in a unique way—the historian is transformed into a protagonist in the dialogue. Oral history is perhaps the only field where the sources talk back to the historian, confronting, disputing, disrupting, and sometimes resisting the historian’s understanding of the past (Frisch 1990; Shopes 2012). Oral history works with the interviewee as a partner in dialogue and the verbal form historical truth can take is always co-constructed (Cook and Goodall 2013; Goodall and Cadzow 2009; Portelli 1991).
Some of the most effective (and affecting) projects using this approach concern communities that may be far outside of the audience’s experience, whether due to time, geography, or identity. Works like Shoah by Claude Lanzmann, Hard Times by Studs Terkel, and Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold by Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy document their subjects through the voices of those who lived through specific moments and events that can be overwhelming or remain unknown without a more interpersonal method.
“Many of the best works about this disease have been produced by people at various stages of HIV infection.”
The history of the HIV/AIDS epidemic has recently become the subject of numerous oral history projects, where the stories of survivors, caregivers, activists, and health care professionals have been collected and made available online, traditionally published, and edited into documentaries.
One such collection, Visual Arts and the AIDS Epidemic, was begun in 2015 by the Smithsonian Archives of American Art after receiving a grant from The Keith Haring Foundation. Haring founded the foundation in 1989, a year before his death from HIV-related illness, to maintain his artistic and philanthropic legacy. The project interviewed forty artists about their lives, their work, and how the AIDS crisis intersected and permeated both.
The interviews in the Visual Arts and the AIDS Epidemic collection cover wide ranges of personal and creative history, ranging from insider gossip and “name-dropping” to theoretical discussions of method and art history. They benefit from interviewers who bring their own experience as artists, art scholars, and historians to the conversation, with questions and insights that make this collection a rich multifaceted history of AIDS, the arts, and activism.
as if the artist were immersed in dealing with the epidemic—as so many are. Many of the best works about this disease have been produced by people at various stages of HIV infection. Perhaps they have lost a lover, nursed a dear friend, or attended a dozen funerals at a young age, and feel themselves to be, in every sense, set apart by the experience. They are implicated. Their art signifies a collective trauma—mass death in the midst of life.
Reveal Digital, an initiative “to amplify important, long-overlooked voices of the twentieth century,” has made these histories, and more, available in their developing open access collection HIV, AIDS and the Arts.
Artists in The Early Years of the Epidemic
“I still can’t believe—I still don’t believe that AIDS even existed and wiped out our community in the ’80s, just wiped off our community from the history. It’s unbelievable to me. Everybody who held my—who carried my history is dead.” —Nan Goldin
One year later, William F. Buckley published a New York Times op-ed calling for HIV-positive people to be tattooed on the upper arm and buttocks to protect others (assuming that would protect both future sexual partners and intravenous drug users who might share needles). News reports about the disease largely focused on fear of contagion, the promiscuity and danger of gay men, and the threat of HIV to “normal” Americans.
In the interviews gathered in the Visual Arts and the AIDS Epidemic collection, artists describe how they first became aware of AIDS: from a loved one diagnosed after an illness; from hearing of a friend’s passing after not seeing them for a while; from a doctor telling them to stay with a partner because “there’s something going around”; or by learning of their own diagnosis. Friends were lost to the disease, and surviving family members denied the illness or sometimes actively excluded partners from funerals.
Sur Rodney (Sur), a New York City-based writer, gallery co-director, and archivist, relates that the late artist David Wojnarowicz would go to his local bodega in New York City where the clerks returned his change in a paper bag, out of fear. He describes his own anxieties when stepping in after a friend’s death to help save and archive their artworks and collections so they wouldn’t be destroyed (before there were nonprofit organizations to do so).
These personal experiences unfolded within the larger context of governmental indifference, active discrimination against people with the disease (or belonging to groups that were deemed “at risk”), and a growing consciousness of the political landscape of the epidemic. Robert Vasquez-Pacheco, a member of ACT UP and Gran Fury, recounts,
as I was becoming more and more politically aware, I became more and more pissed off, you know, because I was seeing. I was beginning to understand how women were being treated. I had an understanding, a firsthand understanding, of how people of color are treated, you know, because I knew that. But then I started to understand the institutional stuff and all of that, and consequently, as a gay man. So I started to put all of this stuff together and I was just super pissed off.
Some version of this process, repeated for many of the subjects, led people to activism, whether through art, volunteer work, protest, or sometimes all three. Nancy Brooks Brody (1962-2023), a visual artist and member of the fierce pussy collective, describes the progression in her interview.“Because when people were dying,” she explains,
we just kept going. […] You went to a funeral, and then you were out on the streets. Or you were at a meeting, and then you went to a hospital to take care of someone and feed them. Feed someone’s cats, walk their dog, help someone move. You know? These things just—we didn’t have any—I didn’t have any room or perspective on it. It was just what was happening.
The meetings she, and others, refer to were those of ACT UP New York (The AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power), which began in 1987 at a community meeting where Larry Kramer asked, “How long does it take before you get angry and fight back?” Kramer, a playwright and essayist who had been covering AIDS since the beginning through journalism, had co-founded the non-profit Gay Men’s Health Crisis in 1982. His play The Normal Heart, an impassioned call to action, spurred members of the audience to meet and subsequently take part in one of the most significant and effective activist movements of the twentieth century.
Creating Art in an Epidemic
The artistic works of those interviewed are diverse, both in media and approach: photographing people living with AIDS, using détournement to turn existing works into calls to action via graphic design, or using their body to confront audiences with the existence of the disease through performance. In some cases, their illness became an essential component of their art: John Dugdale, a former commercial photographer, began using nineteenth-century methods to capture and produce his work after HIV-related retinitis and a stroke left his sight significantly impaired. Ron Athey, one of the NEA Four, used his own HIV-positive body to create work exploring sex, trauma, and desire. The place of the artist within (or outside) a community could become a contentious issue, especially at a time when representation of people with AIDS was so fraught.
Rosalind Fox Solomon, whose 1988 show Portraits in the Time of AIDS featured photographs of the subject alone or with loved ones, some with visible lesions or in the hospital, relates that her project was critically panned and called “exploitative” at the time.
Some of the most vibrant, and now iconic, images of AIDS were created as (and for) protest: Silence = Death, the work of the Silence = Death Collective (and not ACT UP, as Avram Finkelstein relates in his interview) became the primary pictorial representation of ACT UP and a rallying slogan for the fight against the disease. Keith Haring did his own take on it for a poster, adding “Ignorance = Fear” to a “See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil” scene.
Collectives like Gran Fury and fierce pussy, which organized inside the ACT UP activist group, created posters for wheat-pasting that served as art, education, and calls to action around AIDS, homophobia, health care, and visibility. Whether newsprint works of text, guerrilla-installed bus station “ads,” or rolls of stickers of bloody hands announcing “One AIDS Death Every 10 Minutes,” the art of AIDS activism used any means available to communicate the urgency of the crisis.
The Visual Arts and the AIDS Epidemic collection demonstrates the power of oral history to preserve not just historical events, but what it felt like to live in the moment and survive it when so many people did not. Together with Reveal Digital’s HIV, AIDS, and the Arts archive, the collection ensures that these voices, experiences, and creative histories continue to be available to inform and educate future generations.
June is LGBTQIA+ Pride Month in the United States, so we’ve collected some of our most popular stories on a range of topics—from pronouns to politics—that highlight the history of the LGBTQIA+ community. As always, links to free JSTOR scholarship are included with each of these.
As I have written about before I had to remove hate from my system. Because of what I experienced growing up and the toxic nature of those I was raised by / around I developed a deep anger building to intense hate. It was consuming me as I had no outlet for that poison it was ruining the being I was / could be. I saw Ron starting to pull away from me as he saw the effects of my inner struggle with hate even as he did not know why I had such deep emotions and intense reactions. I had a choice. I could go with the hate, give into it and make it all I was. That would make me like those I grew up with. Or I could excise it, leave it behind, look for and crave something far different that might be like cold water on blistered skin. A balm to help me heal and to build the person I wanted to be, not that they wanted me to be. I went from the “slave” name they called me to being Scottie. It was not easy, it still is not. I am not and never will be perfect. I struggle not to be easily angered, to look for the good in others, to not to imagine faults. But by making those first steps I was able to keep Ron and he guided me forward not even understanding he was doing it. Happy hugs. Scottie
I’m still working on “The Forsytes,” and eagerly anticipating beginning my niece’s book, “Reven Across Golden Skies”, but today I bought a book called “When Women Were Dragons,” and I’m really looking forward to that one, too. I might have to start a second book before finishing “The Forsytes” … Anyway, if you’re looking for something, the Smart Ones have a list for June:
Happy Pride Month, one and all! As usual, June is packed to the gills with queer romance, so selecting just five titles felt a nigh impossible task. While I’ve done it, I definitely encourage you to seek out the many more excellent-looking books gracing shelves this month and support as many queer creators as possible!
From the author of I’ll Get Back To You, a sapphic enemies-to-lovers romance that follows a Type-A maid of honor setting out to do the most and a Type-B bridesmaid with her life only just put-together, who must put aside their animosity to plan the wedding of the summer
On the surface, Alice has her life together. She’s got a job in music she loves; she’s firmly sober; and she’s grateful to be back in the good graces of her ex-girlfriend-once-best-friend-now-literal-only-friend Gin. Just in time, too, because Gin’s getting married this summer! And Alice gets to be a bridesmaid.
If only the maid-of-honor wasn’t Renee Type-A, the opposite of her in every way, and a long-time Alice-hater who’s clung to her animosity like a leech. Every second Alice spends around Renee makes her feel like who she used to be, rather than the person she’s spent years trying to make herself into—and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her younger self any more than she wants to be thinking, more constantly than she wants to admit, about her hair, her lips, her wit…. No, Alice has her own stuff to figure out. She still loves music, but her career feels directionless. She’s grieving the loss of her father just a year ago, to alcohol. And then she finds out that her mother’s started to date her father’s ex-bandmate, which sends her reeling…and with the wedding just around the corner, she doesn’t want to bother Gin about any of it.
It’s pure chance that Renee runs into Alice, just when she needs someone the most—and suddenly, everything shifts. Neither of them are what they assumed the other to be. Over the days and nights they’re spending helping Gin throw a DIY summer wedding of epic proportions, Alice and Renee discover that though they have nothing in common—that might be precisely what each of them need. Heartfelt and hopeful, For the Bride is a banter-filled sapphic romance with deep emotional resonance about found family, second chances, and finding love in the unexpected.
Grischow’s sophomore romance revolves around bridal party hijinks, which is already one of my all-time favorite tropes, but this one gave me alllll the feels. Protagonist Alice is still grieving not just the loss of her father but his seeming unwillingness to even try to live for her, and while she herself has reformed from her hard-partying ways, she’s grappling with the visions and memories of her other people can’t seem to shake. It’s a really lovely coming-of-age story alongside a chemistry-filled opposites attract romance, and one of my favorite romantic reads of the year so far. (snip-ordering info on the page)
Love evens the score between two tennis players in this stunning debut romance.
Recently-turned-pro tennis player Austin Hardy has been out since high school and it’s never been a big deal. That is, until he becomes the first openly gay man to compete in a Grand Slam tournament. Suddenly, being gay is a huge deal, with headlines to prove it.
Unprepared for this new spotlight, Austin’s anxiety disorder hits a breaking point, and he trips and falls at practice. Right next to the very attractive, very talented, and probably straight Diego Cruz, ranked second in the world.
The two professional rivals start a friendship off the court. But between their flirty banter, mixed signals, and looming showdown, Austin is thrown further off his game by Diego.
With the eyes of the world on Austin, the weight of history on his shoulders, and Diego across the net, he must decide whether love means nothing or if it means everything as he battles for the trophy during an electric two weeks at the US Open.
Look, I know everyone’s tired of “If you love Heated Rivalry, check out X,” but hear me out. Sports Romance. Rivals. Secretly getting to know each other and developing a physical attraction. Professional athletes of significant talent facing each other in a major competition. This is a debut that’s earned its comp to the series of the moment while also very much being its own thing, starring an already out tennis player who’s quickly rising in the ranks and being spread out over the considerably shorter time span of the US Open. I was a fan of this one from chapter one, and I’ll definitely be picking up whatever Schmit puts out next. (snip-ordering info on the page, plus More Books!)
Carson McCullers’s debut novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, is published.
On June 4, 1940, the day her debut novel The Heart is a Lonely Hunterwas published, 23-year-old Carson McCullers was alone in New York City. She’d come with her husband to promote the book, but he was off sailing with a friend. “She knew almost no one in New York except the kindly older woman acquaintance who had found her the room,” writes Mary V. Dearborn.
“She was nearly penniless, but she had to scrape together enough money to buy something to wear to a meeting with her editor the next week. June 4 was a pause. On one side were Carson’s years growing up in provincial Columbus, Georgia, and the succession of Southern towns to which her husband’s job had called them. On the other side, she assumed, would be the exciting life of an author, living glamorously in New York City, meeting the writers, artists, and musicians who had peopled her fantasies.”
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter was hotly anticipated, despite—or because of—its strangeness. “It did not fit any of the accepted and expected categories of mainstream fiction,” Dearborn explains. “It was neither a love story nor a bildungsroman, it did not have characters whom readers could recognize as like themselves, it did not have a happy ending, and it did not have a single strong narrative line.” It was a book about misfits, written by a misfit. But, importantly, McCullers was a young misfit, and publishing has always loved nothing better than a wunderkind. “Readers were flabbergasted to learn that this tour de force was the work of someone so young and, despite her gender-ambiguous name, a woman,” writes Dearborn. “It was hard to believe she knew so much about the ‘lonely hearts’ of others, said one critic. She seemed sui generis, unique, and as it turned out, as odd as some of her characters.” Richard Wright compared her favorably to William Faulkner and Sherwood Anderson and Ernest Hemingway, and wrote that “whether you will want to read the book depends upon the extent to which you value the experience of discovering the stale and familiar terms of everyday life bathed in a rich and strange meaning, devoid of pettiness and sentimentality.” A lot of people wanted to read it. The novel became a bestseller, and McCullers, at least for a time, was offered entry into the artist’s life of her dreams. “I became an established literary figure overnight and I was much too young to understand what happened to me or the responsibility it entailed,” she said later. “I was a bit of a holy terror.” It’s hard to hold it against her, though. By the age of 30 she would have had two major strokes; she died much too young, at 50, after a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind years of literary potential along with her enduring classics.
I really enjoy this creator and how he has done this entire series on the Christian god and the inconsistancies of the bible and the figures in it. In this series the god is a self centered older teenager who only thinks of themselves and their needs/ wants. The full series starts out with a future highly technological civilization having graduates from school take a psychological test as them an omnipotent being and their assistant is actually their teacher in real life. But in this case “god” is so narcissistic it causes problems in the simulator they are all connected with. But the series does show how narcissistic and only thinking of their feelings, wants, and needs this Christian god is. Sadly the creator has moved on from making the series and the spin-offs from them as his main YouTube product but he still produces these videos which I am grateful for. But try to remember that God is a student and Jefferies is in reality his teacher still trying to teach him how to be a good person. Reverse the roles of the characters and you get the joke. Hugs.
Scottie's Playtime 