As one of those fellas who likes fellas, I have to feel pretty lucky for the point in human history in which I am being allowed to exist. As an infant of the ‘80s, a child of the ‘90s, and an adult of the aughts and beyond, I have been witness to some of the best and worst of LGBTQ history. My life started in the panic of the AIDS crisis and as I’ve grown up, I’ve seen how quickly society has evolved to be more inclusive of my peeps, taking them from the butt of the joke to the stars of the show.
I used to thank lesbians for paving the way for the rest of us. My memories of early ‘90s entertainment are very heavy on lesbians, from Carol on Friends to Christine in The First Wives Club to basically every music video featuring a white woman with a guitar on VH1; lesbians were very en vogue. My thought process convinced me they got their Birkenstocks in the door to create an opening for the rest of us. As I’ve grown and researched more of my culture, I’ve come to learn the path to where we are today started decades before the era where hanging out in coffee shops wearing chunky fall color sweaters was the hippest thing to do. That’s because, over the past couple of years, I’ve been learning more and more about coding.
Not useful coding, like Python or anything, but gay coding. The practice where characters are given traits identifiable to members of the LGBTQ community without explicitly stating they’re gay. That’s right, I only learned about this roughly four years ago. Think about all the decades of cuffed jeans, bisexual lighting, and pinkies up I’ve missed over my life. I’ve been exploring the concept of coding in film over many months as I’ve visited the classic films I somehow missed in my cinephile college years.
Read more on destructoid.com