Myth No. 2

Myth: Gay people want to be married to the person they love!

Fact: Gay people want other gay people to be able to be married to the person they love. As long as they don't actually, you know, go through with it.

In the Australian census of 2006, only 50,000 adults out of 17,000,000 (or 1 in 340) reported being in a same sex partnership. This compares to 203 in 340 reporting being in a straight partnership. If partnering rates were the same in gay Australia as they are in straight Australia, we'd expect to see at least another 200,000 gay couples flouncing about. But as it is, the rate is running at about 20% of all gay adults (assuming a very conservative rate of homosexuality at 2.5%).

There may well be a few militant gay couples who refuse to acknowledge their relationship until they are allowed to call it a "marriage". But they would be nowhere near numerous enough to explain this discrepancy.

So what does explain this discrepancy? At first I wondered if the absence of a female in the relationship removed some of the drive to settle down and make a nest. But if that were the case, one would expect to see much higher partnership rates for lesbians... and they're not there. Partnership rates between gay men and between lesbians are roughly similar.

More likely, it would seem, is a combination of two primary factors. One, it's harder to find a compatible mate when your sexual orientation is limited to a tiny minority of the population. And two, homosexuals don't experience the same social imperatives to partner up and reproduce the families that created them. Sure, a mother might nag her gay son to find someone and settle down, but it won't have the same force behind it as her nagging of her straight son to marry his girlfriend and start popping out grandchildren. In the latter situation, she sees strong echoes of her own experience and priorities. In the former, the correlations to her own experience are more muted.

I use the mother here as an example, but the social pressure to follow the traditional familial and reproductive narrative comes from every part of our culture. And it's directed at the straights; it's merely coopted by the gays, and not, apparently, in large numbers.

Myth No. 1

Myth: 10% of people are gay.

Fact: No one can be certain how many gay people there are, but its a helluva lot less than 10% of the population.

It's hard to find objective data, partly because sexuality is a subjective thing, and homosexuality is something that people are often less than truthful about, even in anonymous surveys.

Homosexuality is also something that people are passionate about, and both sides twist the truth to suit their own ends. This article from Family Voice cherry picks data from a university study to support their anti gay-rights agenda. Meanwhile, Out in Perth accurately quotes figures on gay partnerships from the Australian Bureau of Statistics... then shamelessly inflates auxilliary data to make those figures appear more impressive.

But one thing that we can say for certain after even a small amount of investigation is that the figure of 10% is utter bollocks.

A recent study by LaTrobe University in Victoria found that 1.6% of anonymously surveyed men identified as gay, and a further 0.9% identified as bisexual.

For the 10% figure to be even remotely accurate, one would have to assume that for every man who identified as gay or bisexual, there were three screaming queers who claimed to be completely straight. Even allowing for the closet cases and those in denial, that seems unlikely.

The LaTrobe study DID find that 8.6% of men confessed to at least one incidence of either a same sex experience or attraction. But a moment of sexual ambiguation does not equal being gay. And even if it did - if every man who'd ever had any sort of sexual experience with or attraction to a male was really deep down 100% gay - it's still only 8.6%.

Supporting the 1.6% figure are studies in mainland Europe, Britain and the United States, which found similar percentages to those found in Australia. Over such wide samples, the possibility of the figures being so significantly underreported is small, to say the least.

Of course all of this "X% of people are gay" stuff comes from a very binary conception of sexuality, whereas many of the more nuanced social researchers recognise a fluid spectrum of sexuality. However it would seem that the percentage of men who are what we'd consider "gay" at any given point in time would be somewhere between 1.6% and 8.6% of men. For myself, the figure of 3-4% that's occasionally quoted seems the most rational... although I have no stats to hand to back that up.

Like Mythbusters, only with more penises.

Partly for my own amusement, and due to a vague sense that I wasn't getting the unbiased story, I've done some research into facts and figures about gays in the modern world.

After going over as much data as I can find, as objectively as I can, I'm made three discoveries:

1. It's very difficult to pin down solid demographic data on homosexuality.

2. Many assumptions we make about gay experience and relationships are based on false and/or outdated information.

3. I am a massive statistics nerd.

So over the next few posts I'm going to present some of my findings, in the hopes that they may give a better understanding of what's actually going on in the realm of gay relationships.

Basket of goodies

Damn it, why can I never find this aisle when I go grocery shopping?



The last time I went to the supermarket all I got was corn chips.

Turns out the GTR Test is even more depressing than the Bechdel Test

Further to my last post, about the difficulties of trying to date men with 1) a job, 2) a place and 3) a car, I've had a rather startling realisation.

I wrote down the names of my seven closest single gay friends, the ones I see at least every couple of months. Of those seven, only two had a job, a place and a car.

And if we redefine place to mean, "a place they can actually invite people back to", the number drops to zero.

Zero. Out of my primary gay social circle, I'm the only one with a job, a place and a car.

To really grind my face into the raw concrete of failure, I then ran the test on my coupled gay friends.

To a man, every one of them has a job, a place and a car. And, obviously, a partner.

W. Somerset Maugham once refered to himself as being "first among the second raters" as a writer. Apparently I hold a similar title in dating. I really am the King of the Losers.

The Bechdel Test for gay dating

You may be familiar with the Bechdel Test, a feminist metric by which Hollywood films are judged. To pass the Bechdel Test a film must contain 1) two named female characters who 2) speak to each other about 3) something other than a male character.

It's an elegant and beautifully damning critique of Hollywood, largely because it's so undemanding. After all, it's no great ask for a film to have just one scene, or even one shot, of two women who speak to each other about issues other a man. And yet the vast majority of Hollywood offerings, from every Star Wars installment to every Toy Story movie, fail even these low expectations.

I was reminded of the Bechdel Test when I recently noticed something about the quality of men I was seeing in my dating life. So I created the GTR Test.

To pass the GTR Test, a man must have 1) a job, 2) a place and 3) a car.

Now when I say "a job", it doesn't have to be a high-flying career... or even full time. It simply has to be remunerated enough for him to support himself.

And when I say a place, I don't mean a fashionable apartment... or even an utter hovel. It can be a sharehouse, providing he has his own space within it.

And when I say a car, I don't mean a sleek new car... or even an old clunker. A motorbike or a scooter is fine.

Oh, and when I say a man must have a job, a place and a car... actually, I'll settle for two out of three.

And yet, even by those disgracefully low standards, the majority of men I've dated lately have failed the GTR Test.

- The 37 year old who came close, with a car and a part time job, but it wasn't enough to support him, and he lived in his parents' garage. And even then, the real deal killer was the fact that he had a) a serious drinking problem and b) HIV.

- The student from Saudi Arabia who failed on all three counts: he lived on a stipend from his parents, resided with a host family, and got around by bus.

- The 25 year old from a suburb half an hour away by car who lived off a university grant, in his parents' house, and didn't even have a license, let alone a car.

- The student from Singapore who was in exactly the same situation as the Saudi guy... including the same emotional problems.

Only two guys lately have passed the test. The first has a great job, a nice house and a car (technically - it doesn't work at the moment). As such we've been out four times, but it's just one of those cases of there being insufficient chemistry.

The second guy lives in a sharehouse and only has a part time job, but it pays enough for him to live, and he has a brand new Mazda 3, so he passes. He's also gorgeous, intelligent, stylish and a wildly talented classical musician - I was smitten from the first moment I met him. But after two dates he used the deadly phrase, "you're such a nice guy" and asked if we could just be friends.

So it's back to dating the unemployed, the carless and the homeless, I guess. Maybe I should get off Scruff and Growlr and just hang around under bridges to meet guys.

Damned if you do...

Recently a friend of mine sent a message to a hot guy on Grindr (or some similar app), stating that his profile pic was stunning and offering some generic pleasantry.

The hot guy's response was, and I quote, "what about my profile gave the impression that I was interested in a fat ugly prick like you?"

My friend was devastated by this reponse, and I think it was a deplorable way to treat a fellow human being. 

And yet I must admit that at the same time, there was something about it that reminded me of a classic feminist dilemma.

Say you're an attractive woman, and you're sitting in a bar having a drink. Skeezy men keep coming up to you, offering to buy you drinks, wanting to chat you up. You're not interested. What do you do?

A) Smile politely, say "No thank you" and then get dragged into conversation by their insistence and your own politeness, or,

B) Tell them to fuck off in no uncertain terms, and then be on the receiving end of a huffy, "Well I was only trying to be nice!" and/or "No wonder you're alone if you're such a bitch!"

Basically however you respond, you lose. It's no wonder attractive women are often aloof or over-defensive.

My friend didn't deserve to be sneered at by the hot guy... but then again, I can imagine that the hot guy gets a dozen unsolicited compliments a day from guys with a far lower sexual status, each seeking, in a wheedling way, to get him into conversation. He can almost be forgiven for snapping at them...

Or maybe he's just a narcissistic, entitled ass, relying on the fact that in the gay world if you're hot you can be as cruel and rude as you like and men will keep flocking to you.

Who knows?

Two wins in the genetic lottery.

"Hello, I have a perfect body and a huge cock. Thus my success in the gay world is pretty much assured."

Yes, I'm just jealous because... well, look at him.

It's called "grooming".

Much as I hate to contradict Stephen Fry, I know plenty of homosexuals who are very interested in making other people homosexual. The phrase "ditch the bitch and switch" has been around for a while, and it wasn't made up by me.

But that's the gay movement in a nutshell, isn't it. It doesn't matter if a statement is actually true or not; it's okay as long as it helps the cause.

Actually that's the modern world in a nutshell. Truth has been replaced by pith.

Time to buy some strawberries and cream...

Perhaps I'm just horny or lonely or something, but this is the most erotic thing I've seen in a long time.

That kiss... it's a thing of beauty.

Family portrait.

Sigh.

Having trouble breathing...

Lust... too... overpowering...

Seriously, how do you look like this and not have an aneurysm from your own hotness?

In which Google taunts me.

I'm feeling kinda lonely at the moment.

Surely, I've been thinking, I'm not the only gay man who is facing a lonely and desperate single life. Out of interest, I googled "gay and alone", in the assumption that there would be a welter of blogs from men in the same position as me. 

I am so naive. 

Google "gay and alone" and all you get is an apparently endless line of noisy little twinks shreiking "OMG I'M 21 AND I DON"T HAVE A BOYFRIEND I'M TOTALLY GOING TO BE ALONE FOREVER HOW WILL I DEAL WITH THIS!!1!?" 

Then, if you follow their blog to its current post, it's invariably something to the effect of "OMG Trent surprised me with breakfast in bed today because it's our 18 month anniversary! He is soooooo cute and my soul mate and I'm the luckiest man in the world! Love you baby!!!" 

For added self-torture, you can backtrack to the posts immediately following the all-caps one, and discover that after a few more drama queen episodes the blog goes mysteriously silent for a few months before bursting back into life with more of the same, only the complaints are about something else and the "I" is now "we". 

This is the problem. I'm looking for help and identification from the blogs of people who are actually gay and alone forever, and instead I just get a bunch of whiny attention whores who feel gay and alone "forever" because they haven't had a boyfriend for a week. And if I read one more blog in which commenters pat some teenager on the hand and pretend that being 19 and not having a boyfriend is a genuine problem, or is in any way indicative of what their life will be like in 20 years' time, I'm going to hunt them down and beat them to death with their own copies of Dan Savage's autobiography. 

Those bitches don't understand what "forever" means, never mind what "alone" means. 

I do have one friend who appears to be a another genuine "forever alone" man, and while I'd be delighted for him to find someone I must admit that I do take comfort from the fact that he proves that I'm not the only one. My only fear is that, in the past, whenever I've thought, "Well, I may be alone, but at least I have my friend X, my brother in forever aloneness, to share the burden with me," friend X invariably ends up finding someone tout suite. 

Following that logic, what I need to do is get my friend thinking that about me. And then my Mr Right will pop up like a jack-in-the-box.

Of AlphaGays and self-loathing

You may have heard of the term "AlphaGay" - if you google it you get 38 million hits. They are those overachieving, obnoxiously perfect and infuriatingly hot gay men (and, on the stroke of turning 30, gay couples) who lead the gay world and make the rest of us feel deeply, desperately inadequate.

If AlphaGays exists, there must logically be BetaGays. And if we use the 1932 dystopian classic 'Brave New World' as our guide, the gay world could be logically divided into Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas and poor unfortunate Epsilons.

But where is the line drawn? What separates an AlphaGay from a BetaGay, or a GammaGay from a DeltaGay? And more importantly, where do you fall in the spectrum? And even MORE importantly, are you dating, or attempting to date, out of your class?

Please take this handy quiz to determine exactly where you fall on the spectrum.

1. Annually, I earn:

A: $150,000 +
B: $100,000 - $150,000
C: $50,000 - $100,000
D: less than $50,000
E: Whatever the government and my mother give me.

2. The amount of time between the breakup of my last relationship and the start of my current relationship was:

A: 0 - 2 months 
"When Bryce and I broke up I decided to just enjoy being single for a while. Time to party! But then only three weeks later I met Chad at the gym and it was love at first sight!" 
B: 2 - 12 months 
"It took me a while to get over my breakup with Alan, and I'd forgotten just how shallow and endless the dating scene can be. But after a bunch of "meh" dates I met James, and I knew right from the start that I had found someone special." 
C: 1 year - 2 years 
"My last relationship was a disaster, and while I think it was good for us to part I found the dating scene to be a nightmare. The one-night stands leave you feeling empty, and the rejections leave you feeling hurt. I was just about ready to give up when I met Rob, so hey, it's a good thing I stuck to it!" 
D: 2 years - 5 years 
"If I'd known how bad it is out there I probably wouldn't have broken up with my last boyfriend! The endless rounds of bars and Grindr and being rejected really got me down. When I finally met Wayne - a nice normal guy who doesn't take himself too seriously - I grabbed hold of him and haven't let him go." 
E: N/A 
"I blew a guy in a car park at 2am back in June 2009. Does that count?"

3. My physique could best be described as:

A: Excellent. I have a six pack, biceps and triceps that threaten the stitching on my shirts, and a perfect ass. I manscape religiously. I look great without a shirt. 
B: Good. I have a flat stomach and nicely toned arms. I do some light manscaping. I look good in snug fitted shirts. 
C: Average. I'm developing a little pot belly, and I need to get to the gym more, but I look fine in a polo shirt and shorts. 
D: Poor. I have the average body for a straight man my age. So by gay standards I'm pale, hairy and morbidly obese. 
E: OMG. I'm pale, hairy and morbidly obese even by straight standards.

4. I live in:

A: an enviable apartment in the best part of my city's Gay Belt with my man. 
B: a nice place in the Gay Belt with my man. 
C: an okay place in an okay suburb. I'm trying to convince my man to move in with me. 
D: a fixer upper on the outskirts of the city. My man often stays the night. 
E: a tiny cramped flat that I can barely afford. Alone.

5. The man currently next to me in bed is:

A: My husband 
B: My partner 
C: My boyfriend 
D: My fuck buddy 
E: Eric? Or was it Evan? Ethan? It was something starting with E...

6. The last time I went out to an organised gay event, it was the following:

A: Keiran and Orlando invited us to the black tie preview of the new Keith Harring retrospective at MOMA. Everyone was there. Hmmm... is it just me, or is Veuve kind of over? 
B: We were invited to a fundraiser for the It Gets Better Campaign. Lovely venue. Live performance by Missy Higgins! I just wish we could do more for the cause. 
C: We went to the Pride Party after the Parade. Then we had a fight because Greg was staring at some little twink bitch all night. 
D: I went to a gay mixer that I read about online. It was a bit sad - so many lonely old men. But I chatted for a while with a nice Asian guy and his boyfriend. 
E: I went to Meat Market Monday at my local gay bar. I think I picked someone up... I'm not sure... I was pretty drunk.

7. For my last holiday:

A: Toby and I went snowboarding in Austria, then picked up some new furniture in Milan, before stopping at luxury spa retreat in Thailand just to recharge. 
B: Richard and I went to visit his old friend Briony in Vancouver. On the way back we spent a weekend shopping in Hong Kong. 
C: Sam, Craig and I hired a car and drove around New Zealand. Craig was the only one brave enough to bungee jump. 
D: I went to Bali with a bunch of mates. We swam in the pool every day and got epically drunk every night. 
E: I took the bus to visit my sister in Kalgoorlie.

8. Gay marriage is:

A: The greatest civil liberties issue of our time! 
B: Very important for the equality of all couples who love each other. 
C: Something that gay men should be able to do if they want to. 
D: Something to look forward to, maybe, someday, when I meet the right guy.
E: Irrelevant.

9. Most of my wardrobe is from:

A: Hugo Boss 
B: Country Road 
C: Industrie 
D: Target 
E: K-Mart

10. When it comes to being open about my sexuality, I am:

A: Out, proud, and ready to bring in the human rights lawyers if I so much as suspect that anyone disapproves! 
B: Out and proud, but not, like, obnoxious about it or anything. 
C: Out to friends and family, but I don't advertise it at work. 
D: Out to a few select people. 
E: So deep in the closet that you can smell the Turkish Delight and lion shit.

So how did you do?

Mostly As: You're an AlphaGay. Frankly, you can cram your Prada shoes, your french bulldog and your Porsche keys right up your ass. Oh, no, wait, your husband's 10 inch cock is already up there. I hate you.

Mostly Bs: You're a BetaGay. Your life is good rather than wonderful, and you probably think you're pretty average for a gay man. In some ways I hate you even more.

Mostly Cs: You're a GammaGay. Your life isn't perfect, but you're content enough. You really have nothing to complain about.

Mostly Ds: You're a DeltaGay. You have plenty to complain about, but it could be worse. If you're lucky, and patient, you may one day find happiness.

Mostly Es: You're an EpsilonGay. You're the Special Needs kid of the gay world. Your life is sad and awful. For heaven's sake, come out, get to the gym and find a job! You may yet be able to drag yourself up to be a Delta.

An odd development.

Just lately I've noticed a bit of a trend: guys taking pictures of themselves in their cars to use on their dating profiles. When did this become a thing?

And more importantly, WHY did this become a thing? Is the lighting flattering? Does it make them look dynamic and on-the-go? Is it the one place their wives won't find out?

At least I was getting some action.

Over the last couple of months I've been involved in an odd little relationship, which was unfortunately cut short just as it was getting interesting.

He was from Indonesia, here on a one year educational visa, and although I'm not particularly keen on Asians he had a lot going for him. We have a similar taste in music, he's very funny and cute, he was easy to get along with, and right from the start he was very into me. The sex was good and it got considerably better on each occasion.

Oh, and did I mention that he's a 24 year old bodybuilder? No? Well, that was kind of nice too. He had biceps like large mangos carved out of granite.

So he was a nice, cute, funny, 24 year old gym junkie who was besotted with me, even to the extent of thinking that my fat belly is "cute". There was just one problem: he was ever so slightly insane.

It was hard to spot when we were out together in public - he reined in the crazy and the odd little things that slippd out can be attributed to imperfect English skills. But in private, when he relaxed, then it started to get weird. There was the constantly changing life story. His habit of declaring that he was getting psychic emanations off my furniture, telling me he saw other people using them in previous decades. The way he growled like a demon-possessed wolf when he came during sex. And the strange glint in his eye when he was demonstrating his knife fighting skills with my long, sharp kitchen knives, which made me, for the first time ever, worried that I'd let someone dangerous into my house.

After our first sexual encounter, I made a vow never to let him in my house again. But I kept seeing him, because he seemed lonely and deeply anxious that he had to leave the country within a month and return to a home where he had no job, and where expressing his sexuality was dangerous.

However, gradually, as I got to know him better my impression changed. He's definitely odd, but the behaviour that I originally read as deranged seemed to be more a combination of a solitary upbringing and existential dread about leaving the rich, enlightened first world for a lesser country. And as he grew more comfortable with me, he became a little less clingy and a little more relatable.

Then there's the fact that he couldn't keep his hands off me, and constantly told me how handsome I was. And I don't think it was just a line. During our last sexual encounter, I was sprawled on my couch with him kneeling on the floor between my knees, giving me a very adroit blowjob. On the occasions when I glanced down, I'd find him gazing up at me, wanting to watch me enjoying him.

Call me shallow, but the sex was washing away my reservations about him too. I have never had a man who felt so beautiful under my fingers, that intoxicating combination of soft skin over bulging muscles. Although we're both versatile we quickly settled into the roles of me as Top and him as Bottom. He found it easy to come with me inside him, and then he used to considerable talents to make sure that I came too. If I ever thought that perhaps we could take it slow on a date and just kiss for a while, he had a way of ensuring that an hour later I'd be balls-deep in his perfect bubble ass, ploughing him to our mutual gasping, moaning, cum-spattered orgasms.

It was on our last two dates that I found myself starting to fall for him. We went for an evening walk and sat on a park bench overlooking the city, and he nestled into the crook of my arm as we looked at the view and kissed. I realised that I was the Daddy in this relationship... and hey, I was okay with that. I also realised that I could develop more than just the average feelings for this guy.

But it was less than a week after that realisation that his visa ran out and he had to leave the country. He gave me some gifts that were a little out of left field but which he'd clearly put a lot of thought into, and we exchanged email addresses so we could stay in touch. And then he left.

Now I'm back on the sites and the apps, looking for someone new. But when I'm lying in bed at night, it's him who comes into my mind.

Life isn't fair.

Holy crap I just want to climb on top of him and bounce up and down.