Tag Archives: buggery

There’s this illusion that homosexuals have sex and heterosexuals fall in love. That’s completely untrue. Everybody wants to be loved. — Boy George

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I recall when I was in university in 1982. I enrolled in a film studies class, and one of the films we watched was Pagan Rhapsody. There is a scene in the film where two men play a sex scene. Though the scene was as vanilla as possible–there was kissing and a little friendly groping (nothing graphic)–the student audience’s vocal expressions of disgust were notable. In 2024, male homosexuality was generally accepted as a natural expression of human intimacy and treated with sensitivity in film and television. Netflix series such as Young Royals and Heartstopper feature a gay romance and intimacy between high school boys in a way that leaves something to the viewers’ imagination. Both series are immensely popular with younger viewers. Things have changed since the screening of Pagan Rhapsody in 1982. Still, when it comes to public perceptions of intimacy between gay men, there are a lot of people who have an unsavoury fixation on what they imagine goes on when two men are intimate. I get expressions of disgust in the comments on blog posts I write on gay rights advocacy, where people say things like, “There’s nothing more disgusting than two men fucking each other in the ass,” and “Cocksucking is not a men’s issue.” I mean, that is beyond the pale.

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You can’t just look at someone and guess their sexuality. There’s no point in assuming that every gay man has just one personality type. — Cameron Monaghan

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I had a similar experience to the one dramatized in the video. It was in the late spring, early summer of 1980. I had graduated from high school and eagerly looked forward to enrolling at Queen’s University in the Fall. I served as a Reservist in the Canadian Army in an artillery regiment in Ottawa and made friends with another young man I met in the unit. We became fast friends. I made friends with that man and others in my regiment. Still, I was ribbed, called the “Regimental Fag” in the banter among the ranks. When I came to the Christmas Party in 1979 with a young woman for my date, I was asked, “So, you like girls?” We spent time alone together at his mother’s house. We sat on the living room floor and listened to Beatles records on the stereo. I remember my overwhelming desire for him; I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I did not understand why I felt that way, which was horrifying. I dared not try it as that would have gone badly for me (assuming he was not gay or did not return my feelings). Had I been singled out as a homosexual in 1980, it would have meant dismissal from the Service. I would likely have lost my friends and become the butt of salacious gossip. 

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