Recently, two candidates for the Australian One Nation party – a political party known for their colourful views on minorities and immigration - were caught making vitriolic statements online regarding the LGBTQIA+ community.
Queensland’s Shan Ju Lin took to Facebook to allege that “gays should be treated as patients”, and “abnormal sex leads to abnormal crime” – as if gay sex leads to armed assault. She was promptly suspended.
Another candidate - Tracey Bell-Henselin for the seat of Glasshouse - made the claims that “[the] LGBTI [community] is out to destroy families as we know them”, protesting that “When we stand up on the side of the law to protect our family and children […] we are told to shut up”. Bell-Henselin has not yet been disavowed.
What these candidates don't understand, however, is how gravely they've mistaken our intentions as members of the fabled queer community.
In the spirit of education, I’ve opted to share excerpts from my daily routine, in the hopes that perhaps, next time, should Ju Lin or any other One Nation candidate opt to make homophobic comments, they might draw from more accurate source material.
From this weeks’ schedule:
10AM: I wake hung-over in my bed. I fail to recall the events of last nights’ boozing, but a groan from beside me indicates I got lucky. I can smell the abnormal sex and spilled amyl nitrate.
11AM: After unceremoniously evicting my hook-up, I’ve risen and flicked on the TV. I’m made aware of the latest scandal involving a Vatican priest. I remember to give myself a flogging later on to prepare for my eternal damnation.
11:30AM: I skip my morning gym routine. The sight of so many sweaty man-bodies might cause me to get aroused, and I’d hate to go overboard and wind up robbing a bank or kidnapping an infant. Ju Lin knows how we are when we get excited.
12PM: I arrive to work late. The boss doesn’t mind, as he’s one of my people. I sit and shuffle papers at my desk for half an hour, before taking off for brunch.
12:30PM: Brunch with the gays at the local patisserie. We order mimosas and contemplate our plans for the future: who we’re looking to date, what we’ll wear to that weekends’ Cher-themed dance party, and how best we’ll eventually destabilise Western civilisation.
1:30PM: Walking back to work, I notice a family picnicking in a nearby park - a mother, father, and their two young girls. I pass an attractive man in tight-fitting shorts, who gives me a sly wink. I contemplate taking him to a nearby toilet block near the cluelessly joyful family and having my way, but then I realise it might evolve into a Thelma and Louise situation and I’ve already held up a 7/11 at gunpoint that week after an orgy.
5:15PM: I wander by a church, and notice a young couple in wedding garments having their photos taken in the crisp evening light. I remember that same-sex marriage is illegal in my country, and I’ll never have the blissful romance of my own celebratory union.
My stomach drops. I sigh.
Then I remember: Destroying the traditional family. That’s what’s important.
6PM: Home. Time to eat dinner – a simple salad – before an early night. But first, another hook-up. I hop on Grindr, while looking online to see if there’s a store I haven’t robbed or shop window I haven’t smashed.
You’ve gotta be prepared.
