The 2010 Lamebow Awards

Celebrating the tackiest, most bass-ackwards moments of the past queer year


I'm sorry. I was totally going to rundown all the most drag-queen-slappingiest moments of the incredibly homo-fixated year that was 2010. But then I thought, "Wait a minute! If I know so much about the gays, doesn't that mean people will know that I'm gay? I can't possibly come out — I don't even have a book deal yet! Goddess damn you, Ricky Martin, for setting the bar so high. Nor do I have a book deal AND an autobiographical country record release date! Gee thanks, Chely Wright! (But also, thank you for one-upping Ms. Martin.)"

Anyway, that was a really long thought for me. So let's just award those two a couple of nice, shiny, Degeneres-shaped 2010 Lamebows for Best Commercial Coming Out and move on. I'm queer, I'm here, I don't have an agent, oh well. Speaking of commercial outings, let's lob a Lamebow, too, at Richard Chamberlain, who helped pioneer the apparently lucrative form in 2003 with his autobiography Shattered Love (!). In December, he warned famous actors to stay in the closet because of persistent Hollywood homophobia. Way to monopolize, Dicky! Also: did you know that the most flamboyant cast member of Will and Grace is light and loafy? Shocking. A Lamebow to you, Sean Hayes, for coming out this year and finally putting our frantic speculation to rest at last.

The year 2010 was also when we learned that it only took six horrific teen suicides being reported in one month to remind old gay people that there are young gay people, and that being a young gay person is pretty damn tough. I have no idea how old gay people forgot this, considering several of them must have been young once, but I suspect something involving tiny dogs and/or tribal tattoos. Our major response to deadly homophobic bullying? Just deal with it, twerps. Sure, the "It Gets Better" campaign was wonderful as a high school survivor support group, a risk-free youth outreach effort, and proof that us olds knew how to work the YouTube. But the underlying message — "Don't bother trying to change the world. One day you can move somewhere you'll feel normal like us!" — was awfully regressive. We didn't even have to leave the comfort of the Internet to feel like we did a little something. Shoulder pat! Still, like the obituaries, it was a rare chance to hear non-celebrity gay people's personal stories, so there's that.

Finally, a big, sparkly Lamebow must be parachuted in to the numbskulls who thought repealing "don't ask, don't tell" was such a splendid idea. Yes, I feel sorry for people who have to lie to serve. And I'm not pissed off because now my hot gay ass can get drafted. I love Canada, it's full of bears. No, I'm pissed because the successful repeal has probably ruined gay military porn forever. Look, there's a very good reason why no porn is set in foofy gay bars with a tranny lipsyncing Lady Gaga in the background. Gays only like gay porn that has next to zero possibility of actual gay-acting people appearing in it. Now I have to worry that I'll pop in my copy of Assghanistan: Taking Kabul by the Horns or Packin' Stan: Assghanistan II and some Mary in fatigues will prance out a Katy Perry number with her bunkmates, sigh. Thanks a lot, America.

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