PREDATORY HOMOSEXUALS!


ROY KERRIDGE denounces a kind of

perversion which corrupts young people.


* * * * * * * * *


A MONG THE NEWSPAPERS PLACED ON THE RACKS OF PUBLIC LIBRARIES IN LONDON IS A WEEKLY CALLED CAPITAL GAY. AIMED AT A HOMOSEXUAL READERSHIP, IT SEEMS TO BE REGARDED BY LIBRARIANS AS AN EQUIVALENT TO A BLACK’ PAPER, SUCH AS THE CARIBBEAN TIMES.


 Ealing has recently placed a prominent advertisement for a youth leader in this paper. When I was a schoolboy, a youth leader caught tampering with his charges would he instantly dismissed.


It never occurred to anyone to recruit youth leaders from the tampering classes. Young people in schools, council youth clubs and particularly children’s homes are now in greater danger than ever before. Any attempt to question the new championing of homosexuality is met with the shocked intake of breath normally reserved for those suspected of racism’.


The nightmarish homosexual life can involve predatory tours of ‘gay discos’ or “fetish clubs’ in the small hours of the morning, terrifying prowls in the park at midnight where every cigarette glow denotes a friend or a foe, or hours spent searching for contacts in dreary public lavatories.


In fact this life most clearly resembles that of a heroin addict. As yet there is no Drug Pedlars’ Weekly, but if there were, would London councils place advertisements for youth leaders in its back pages?


The fashionable young man about London, a sneer on his lips, a depraved gleam in his eyes, purposefully cultivates the appearance of a rent boy on heroin. The two vices go together . A new homosexuality has arisen, one closely connected with the pop-music-and-drug world of the universities. The unsupervised antics of young people trying valiantly to shock their unshockable elders has led to an escalation of lunacy whose end is the homosexual youth leader or children’s home supervisor. Yesterday’s rebels always seem to end up working for the council.


When teenage rebellion was a matter of Teddy boys from secondary modern schools, the British public cried ‘Hang them! Flog them! Bring back National Service!’ But when, in 1964. university students took up pop fashions every bit as destructive as those of the Teds, everyone else seemed to scream with delight and admiration. Student fashion became the conscience of the nation. Successful pop singers of middle-class background such as the Rolling Stones could do no wrong and seemed to he above the law. First of all, the new aristocracy recommended the drug LSD. This drug, to judge by the so-called •underground papers’ of the day (available everywhere), induced strange sexual feelings and changes in its users. Child sex became desirable. In the early Seventies, a make-up-plastered singer called David Bowie, who advocated bisexual affairs, became a favourite of 13-year-old girls.


Hippies evolved into Bowie boys and Bowie boys evolved into punks, as the nation cheered. Frightening men-women, as unlike a pantomime dame as can be imagined, became the vogue. Governments of the day seemed to smile indulgently at the follies of youth. Horrendous. corrupting music became a major export’.


Each new wave of fashionable youth rebelled, not against their irrelevant parents but against the famous rebels of their childhood. Brought up on such rebels, each generation balked at fashion’s authority and created an even more rebellious fashion. LSD became old hat, and punks who jeered at old fogey hippies often took up heroin. A mere homosexual appearance was augmented by the trappings of bondage’ and fetishism’, chains and spikes.


The ideology of the new homosexuals of our day descends from that of the 18th-century Enlightenment. ‘Bliss was it in that dawn.... . .‘ In my lifetime, I have seen a succession of New Men, as each fashionable university generation declares itself a chosen race destined to lead the rest of the world to Utopia. First of all there were communists whose transformation into supermen began when they joined the Party. Disillusion followed, so next came hippies, whose transfiguration could be achieved by swallowing a mescalin-like substance, lysergic acid diethylamide. Alas, the Golden Dawn rapidly became a night of hallucinatory terror. Quickly the universities provided the answer the new race who would save the world would be gays and lesbians. The fashion that would clothe the men would he punk . (Men by now had become frivolous and fashion- conscious, women serious and woolly.)


At the height of this fashion, the late Seventies, when thousands of young peopie were pretending to be gays or lesbians, an Islington feminist was heard to remark, ‘Adrian doesn’t realise he’s a member of a dying race, the heterosexuals.’ Henceforth she believed human beings would procreate through test-tubes.


Upon leaving university, many gays acquired older protectors and became real homosexuals. Their initial glee and smirking ‘knowingness’ often led to dismay as the full implications became apparent.


Strange are the rules of homosexual “love and marriage’. An older man, having persuaded a young boy to live with him, humiliates the boy by bringing ever-younger teenage boys back to the flat for tea and sympathy. Often the older man and his younger partner indulge voracious and voyeuristic sensations by going out together in pursuit of young boys. ‘Gay clubs’ often have rooms attached to the dance floor where group sodomy can take place, sometimes with whips, chains and handcuffs as handy props. In a sense, many popular ‘gay clubs’ are brothels.


By the time he is 21, a homosexual has often become ‘the older man’. Young boys, and the younger the better, are the chief preoccupation of predatory homosexuals. So the law against sodomy is being broken as freely now as it was before the great reform. Now as then, the police usually turn a blind eye. What the reform has achieved is the creation of a gay and lesbian publicity industry that usually enjoys the full backing of the health and educational services. This is not a good time in which to be a boy.


F OR SOME REASON ,MANY HOMOSEXUALS ADMIRE DYED BLONDE- AND-LIPSTICKY WOMEN. Female pop singers do sometimes gain a second lease on life by investing in bleach and scarlet make-up and performing in gay clubs’. The image of a tart is a potent one in homosexual circles, where no man purposely dresses up to look like a housewife and mother


ORIGINALLY THE WORD ‘GAY’, IN 19TH-CENTURY CRIMINAL SLANG , MEANT A FEMALE PROSTITUTE. THEN IT BECAME TRANSFERRED TO ALL PROSTITUTES, THEN TO MALE ONES ALONE AND FINALLY IT REFERRED TO ALL HOMOSEXUALS.


 With the tart as ideal woman, and a rough, uneducated boy the ideal partner for a cultured man, the homosexual cannot understand heterosexual love and marriage at all. His liaisons are not a counterpart of Christian marriage. However amusing our homosexual friends may be, it remains a duty to prevent them from making converts. Why should schools be used, as many now are, to recruit young people into a life of sin?


Corrupting children’s innocence is sin, and the search for boys is simply a search for fresh innocence to corrupt . Sophisticated people wince, or smile, at the mention of ‘sin’. It is a word associated with Dr. Jan Paisley, Dr Billy Graham and other good doctors of the bombastic-demagogue school. But when was sin abolished? Who made the formal pronouncement that ended sin? Whoever it was, he forgot to cancel guilt. Guilt, the true wage of sin, is looked on by amoral young people as a disease. Therapies are invented to banish guilt, however well-earned it may be. At meetings of guilty parties everyone is urged to “feel good about feeling good about yourself’.


The new homosexuals are caught up in a wider movement that sees Utopia as a series of impersonal sexual encounters where no ties or attachments are formed. He said he wanted to be my friend and tell me all his troubles,’ I overheard one strident American girl tell another, in a university town. “As if I haven’t got enough friends or troubles! All I wanted was a physical relationship.’


Left to their own devices, sophisticated young people have swiftly become a generation of harlots. In topsy-turvy England, young people begin life at 18 knowing everything that is worth knowing ----fashion and all the latest ideas. As they grow older, they become fearful of losing touch. By 25, a man feels old age and ignorance creeping on, at 30 he can’t keep up with the pop groups, and at 40 he is in his dotage. In this world where wisdom is fashion and all values are ephemeral, the homosexual is in his element, often retaining the full repository of 18-year-old knowledge at the age of 52.


All the same, few parents would wish their own children to he homosexuals, as the Labour Party has found out to its cost. Tolerance for homosexuals stops at the nursery door . But how can children be protected from vice when the adults are gushing over transvestite or heroin-addicted pop singers? The British are never so objectionable as when they are having one of their periodic fits of admiration for vice. From Jeremy Thorpe to Cynthia Payne, our heroes and heroines come and go. No one should be cruel to homosexuals as individuals; only their homsexuality should be deplored. It is only a part of a man’s life, not his be-all or end-all, and as such it is a blemish.


Moments of intense pleasure amid the pain of homosexual life are akin to the transitory pleasure of the heroin addict. The “older man’ is not invariably the guilty party, for he is often cruelly taunted or mistreated by his so-called ~slaves’. Young Glaswegians sometimes run away to London with the ambition of being rent boys, surprisingly uncaring of their bodies.


In my opinion, the only honourable course a man plagued by homosexual cravings can pursue is to conquer those cravings and sublimate them. Whatever inner torments such a man might suffer are as nothing to the horrors of the perpetual quest for boys In dangerous surroundings, whereas the history of art and civilisation amply testifies to the nobility, genius and human sympathy of the person who happens to be homosexual and practises self-restraint.


SOURCE:

The SPECTATOR Magazine

8 August 1987. (Pgs. 18-19)

The Spectator, c/o Expediters of the Printed Word, Ltd.

515 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10022.



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