Because G.O.P. = Gay Old Perverts
A young Republican from Pennsylvania named Marshall McCurdy filed a rape charge against Bruce Barclay, medical the Republican commissioner of Cumberland County. Police obtained a warrant to search Barclay’s home, cialis but instead of finding evidence to support the rape charge, look they found videotapes. Hours and hours of videotapes showing hundreds of sexual encounters between Barclay and other men. Barclay used high-tech surveillance cameras to tape these encounters and apparently did it without consent from his partners.
On the upside, these tapes vindicated Barclay by proving he had consensual sex with his 20-year-old accuser. On the downside, since he videotaped these sex acts without permission, he might face charges for invading the privacy of his male conquests. He’s also in hot water because the men on these sex tapes were hired from a now-defunct escort site called harrisburgfratboys.com. Barclay, who was forced to resign over the scandal, admitted hiring male prostitutes on a weekly basis. In one instance he flew an escort to his second home in Florida and paid him $1,500 for his services.
As for his accuser, Marshall McCurdy could end up serving a three-year prison sentence for filing a false police report against his former lover.
All this talk of secret trysts between conservative closet-cases and gay-for-pay frat boys evokes images of Sean Cody-style wankery. Or, perhaps, images of Michael C. Hall as David Fisher eating ice cream off Christopher Gorham’s washboard abs. If you happen to find any of this titillating, let me remind you of something.
This is the face of the typical closeted gay Republican.
It’s a face desiccated by the ravages of denial and self-hate. It’s the face of a man who has to suppress the urge to sing “The Trolley Song” every morning when he takes a shower because his oblivious wife might begin to suspect something. It’s the face of a man who has to pretend he enjoys football. The face of a man who must purposefully avert his eyes during the huddle lest someone notice he’s staring at the tight end’s tight end. This is the face of a man who would frequently risk everything — his career, his reputation, and probably his health — for some cheap thrills with a parade of total strangers because he’s unwilling to live honestly, out in the open.