Tommy Poppers Festival (3) --- Maybe we're all just fucking whores

Tommy Poppers (Mr. E.) has appeared numerous times on LustSpiel, and here we have a retrospective of his work: this is Part III, which appeared first on our pages on June 18, 2015
(With a cameo appearance of Channing Tatum.)

London, being the haughty old queen she is, continues to part her privileged cheeks for any old bandit with a bank account. Peel away the carefully cultivated camp affectations of civility and you’ll probably find her Grindr profile states ‘HungryHole_4_CityBoyz!’. So is anybody really surprised that, apart from a few exceptions, the main sponsors of this years Gay Pride event in London read like the client-list of a weirdly dystopian brothel? All that’s missing from this party is an arms dealer, a paedophile peer and possibly a member of the House of Saud. Perhaps the increasing ‘corporatization’ of the gay pride event is an honest reflection of who we really are?

MAYBE WE ARE ALL JUST FUCKING WHORES!

Pride sans Channing Tatum

As far as actual whoring goes; well, when the opportunity presented itself to me, I couldn’t go through with it. I was a poor, fresh faced, teenager in the big bad city and under the auspices of an innovative young entrepreneur, I was encouraged to sell my arse. I know many people are fine with the idea, but I quickly realized it wasn’t for me. I had spent all day hanging out with the beautiful studs at the Knocking shop in Notting Hill, when finally the time arrived for ‘a showing’. I walked into a modest room where a drunken, posh slug wallowed in a double bed and swilled a single malt. He remarked that I was far too old for his particular tastes, but after gluttonously leering at me for a few humiliating minutes he proclaimed, “hmmm not bad, not bad at all. You’ll do I suppose!”  If I’m being honest here, it wasn’t the grotesqueness of his physical appearance that repulsed me, it was more about his nonchalant air of entitlement that offended my sense of – how shall I put it – Pride?

Pride avec Channing Tatum

Needless to say, I walked out of that grotty flat into a decade of badly paid kitchen jobs and I have often wondered how much easier my life would have been if I had just swallowed my pride along with whatever else that old posh boy had to offer. I suppose we all end up whoring ourselves out to someone or something sooner or later. I’m not entirely sure why I felt the need to separate the financial world from my sexual identity, but it seemed to make some sort of sense at the time.

Nowhere do these two disparate entities of fucking and economics collide so spectacularly than at the annual gay pride event. From its relatively sober roots as an affirmation of identity, it has gradually mutated into a kaleidoscopic street party of Dionysian excess – and generally terrible music. As usual, the debates regarding sponsorship and inclusion have been raging for weeks, but from what I can gather, this year the whole spectacle seems to be inspiring much more in-fighting and dissent.

Being an old school liberal, I always avoided the spats, I made my protest and just enjoyed the party. However, this year the issues have been troubling me. Perhaps this is because I have been overseas, out of the loop, and therefore I’ve missed all the arguments; or maybe it’s because I’m not so taken in by the myths of moral superiority currently clogging the vesicles of London cultural discourse. Right now I swing between the polarities of the debate. At times I say to myself, “well fuck it, banks and law firms dominate every aspect of my life anyway; why not slip into my party slacks, wipe the viscous corporate jism from my chin, and party on down with the beautiful kids?” Other times, I find myself thinking, “do I really need to march under the banner of such luminaries of social advocacy as Barclays Bank, Baker and McKenzie and CMS?“

Pride sans Channing Tatum

Off the top of my head, I can’t name one aspect of fucking a man that I have ever learnt from Barclays Bank, although it’s entirely possible that the posh old paedo who I met that one time in Notting Hill might have been friends with someone on their board.

Pride avec Channing Tatum

Despite the veneer of respectability, a huge part of London society is as corrupt as any other feudal metropolis – if not worse; so why should we flaunt the moral high ground? Pride is what it is now, it’s the kind of event that Boris Johnson and UKIP want to go to. Perhaps it’s best to forget the rest of the world, get loaded on the ever-dwindling supplies of Prosecco and mince the day away among a sea of beautiful whores. Alternatively, I could go and hang out in Sweat Box and give it all up for free to the man with the impenetrable smile who has been checking me out, who knows?

Mr. E. is a regular contributor to LustSpiel. This piece appeared first on his blog 50 Shady Gays, and is here reposted with his permission. The Tatum pictures are from the LA pride, the non-Tatum pictures from the corresponding Honolulu event.

Comments

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