Avert your gays
I’ve gotten into the worst habit. Every morning, I pluck both dailies from my doorstep and pore over them over a cup of coffee. I scour the headlines, take a few mental notes, shake my leader a little, chuckle sometimes. Then I find that one page in both papers, the one between the stock pages and the new car buys, and I read it from top to bottom.
It’s the obituaries, and I read them every day now–I don’t know exactly when it began. What I complete is look for lifeless men who were homosexual, anonymously gay because neither daily ordinarily offers any hint of their authentic lives.
The biggest part of the train is finding the clues. Pick a dead dude, any dead man–How vintage was he? Did he die of pneumonia or some heretofore rare or unknown cancer? Who are his “survivors”?
If he was between 22 and 50, if his only survivors are Mom and Pop in Pudunk, Indiana, I know I’m onto something. If he was an artist or lawyer or carpenter or small businessperson on Broadway or Halsted, I grasp I’ve hit pay dirt.
They almost always sound like fine little men, men so emotionally attached in social and civic activities that the absence of loved ones, a wife or offs
Actor, clown, writer, director and community arts builder, France Huot is a bilingual artist and graduate of Laurentian University’s Arts d’expression program. As an actor, she has also worked closely with the Théâtre du Nouvel-Ontario on many productions such as Jack, written by Marie-Pierre Proulx, and Parmi les éclats written and directed by Miriam Cusson. In the descend of 2023, she participated in the production of Trois created by Mani Soleymanlou (Orange noyée, National Art Center). Written in collaboration with 40 francophone artists from across the country, the play toured in nine different cities in Canada. She’s currently writing her newest play Ragtime Gal which sheds light period pain and period management.
France is also the co-founder of the collective Hoquet/Hiccup! with her artistic significant other Jenny Hazelton which is dedicated to creating new theatrical works. Their kaleidoscopic approach to theatre-making draws upon many different forms such as clown, shadow puppetry and physical theatre to progress new pieces. They are currently working on a new clown piece called The Pyramid Project.
France is also very active in the arts and culture sector in Sudbur
Keys to Recovery from Same-Sex Attractions
by: LHM Board
[Note: while we are confident that the following list is accurate, we are aware that it can be overwhelming. It would be like handing a newborn child a list of all the things he will contain to learn in the next five years: everything from learning to spin over, learning to walk, becoming potty-trained, learning to communicate , discovering hes not a part of his mommy, knowledge how to obey, getting ready to read, going to school. . . like we said, overwhelming! This is the big picture of how to walk out the goal of recovery. Allow us to encourage you to continually ask the Lord, What one thing do You want me to do next? and then do it.]
1. Accept that its not going to be easy. Convert that challenges our known comfort zone is difficult and painful. You are changing not just one isolated routine, but a collection of thoughts and behaviors that hold made up your relational pattern for a lifetime. An important component of recovery is transforming the wrong faith about your culture, that this is me. This will take an astonishing amount of endeavor, but you don’t have to execute it in your own strength: the same power that raised Christ from the
The Averted Gaze: Call Me By Your Name’s Visions of Queer Desire
Essay
Right upon the start of its traverse through the international film festival circuit, when it premiered at Sundance, Call Me By Your Name (Luca Guadagnino, 2017) was received with almost undiluted levels of critical acclaim. This adaptation of André Aciman’s homonymous 2007 novel about the passionate relationship established during a hot Italian summer between Elio (Timothée Chalamet), the precocious son of an American professor (Michael Stuhlbarg), and his father’s academic protégée, Oliver (Armie Hammer), seemed to be instantaneously welcomed as a modern masterpiece of queer cinema, right on the mark of Moonlight (Barry Jenkins, 2016).
At that time, the aforementioned 89th Best Picture Oscar winner hadn’t yet been named so, and, to many people, the prospect of its victory seemed rather unlikely. After all, even if its small budget, formalistic discourse and focus on a marginalized ethnic minority were to be ignored, Moonlight would still be a queer film, anathema to the concept of an easily consumed, politically passive and socially conventional function that’s popularly associated with that award. Brokeb