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21 Mar 2002

discrimination is 'good' for homos!

If you're in a gay relationship in Singapore, you might feel as though society won't let you show your love openly. Fridae's entertainment writer, Phin Wong, explains why such forms of discrimination are in fact a good thing (at least to avid movie-goers like him).

Boy am I glad gay couples in Singapore aren't blessed with the privilege of being able to flaunt public affection like their straight, socially accepted counterparts.

It's true. For once in my life, I am actually thankful for discrimination and laws that don't quite lean towards the pink. Yeah sure, you spot gay couples sneaking in a little mutual pinky action over the dinner table once in a while, but chances are, the most explicit show of public affection you'll see are two guys strolling merrily down the aisles of Ikea, contemplating which shade of blue to get their matching bathroom slippers in.

Now before you start beating me with the stick Elton John got whacked with after the Grammys, allow me to explain myself. I am a film buff. Love, love, love my movies. And because I was the movie guy for several magazines over the years, I've become accustomed to a certain atmosphere that's conducive for experiencing the wonders of the celluloid world. In short, I'm a spoilt brat who only watches press previews.

I won't deny that I hate watching movies with the rest of the world. I can't stand it. And if that makes me sound like an elitist bitch, that's fine by me. But the truth is, not everyone in the multiplex is really there to watch a movie (or at least more than 65% of it).

Some have the attention span of a fly stoned on pot and are quite happy to only watch the fancy action sequences and joyfully chat during the bits where nothing else is happening besides crucial dialogue.

Some seem to think the first 20 minutes of a movie has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the plot and proceed to noisily find their seats while you try to keep up with the flick by peeping out from behind their large asses. And of course there are some who apparently have no interest in watching the film at all, but have decided that the cinema makes a cosy little place to have a full meal, a leisurely chat on the phone, or attempt both at the same time.

And then there's the most feared of all cinematic scum - the couple. I get goosebumps just thinking about them. It's no joke, for these are no ordinary couples. These are couples from the fires of hell.

I am sure you've seen them before, but you might have mistaken them for Siamese twins as they are always physically attached to each other in some way. I do believe the scientific term for them is God D*mn Motherf*cking C*nts (GDMC). I don't know what that is in Latin.

Usually aged between 15 - 34, these couples prey on genuine moviegoers and show no mercy. They are usually found seated directly behind, beside or in front of their victims, giving the latter no way of escaping.
The male and female viciously attack their innocent prey with non-stop face sucking, fondling, groping, and a deadly cocktail of teasing, giggling, and icky smoochy sounds. They have the unnatural ability to annoy, frustrate, disgust, and remind you of the fact that no one loves you all at the same time. Yes, GDMCs are evil and unrelenting.

It wasn't long ago that I myself was trapped by a loathsome twosome. I missed the press screening of the Nicole Kidman spook-fest "The Others" due to a very hectic schedule of mine (nap, watch Cartoon Network, alcohol top-up at my usual bar, nap), so I was forced to catch a public screening at Lido 1.

It was indeed a frightful event that creeped me out to an extent I haven't experienced since I had that dream about Richard Simmons wearing a whipped cream bikini and a smile on his face.

My nerves were shot to hell, and I had to bite my fists to stop myself from screaming. And trust me, it wasn't the movie that was affecting me.

The cursed GDMCs behind me were going at it full-throttle. In fact, it was so bad I couldn't tell if the heavy breathing was part of the movie or coming from behind me.

Seeing that I had left my light saber in my other Calvin Klein boxers, I found myself with no other option. I had to do what a man had to do. I ran. I ran as fast as my skinny legs could carry me and hid somewhere in the front rows of the hall. I cannot begin to describe the feeling of liberation that came over me.

I admit that those might have been the actions of a particular fowl, but if you think about it, what else could I have done? No amount of shushing, glaring, or ahem-ing can stop GDMCs in their tracks and public confrontations often lead to arguments and disfigurement, both of which would pretty much kill the mood to enjoy a movie. I'd rather try to salvage the rest of the movie-watching experience, pack up the popcorn and move.

So you see, with the laws on not being able to carry firearms in Singapore (and the entire hassle of being charged with murder in the 1st degree), the only saving grace is that the GDMCs are currently confined to the straight population of Singapore.

When society decides that gay people really aren't Satan's spawn, the number of GDMCs will increase by at least 10%. There'll be so much public affection, the multiplexes might start charging by the hour.

Don't even get me started on how gay couples should never be able to reproduce and have screaming devil-kids.

Disclaimer: Fridae would like to reassure readers that the writer is a card-carrying crusader for gay rights. However, he will break your neck (or worse, mess your hair up) if you so much as clear your throat during a movie.

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