On Using Potential Slurs

I was bullied with the term queer as a teenager. With Queer Theory in the 1990s, I wholeheartedly reclaimed the term for myself and acknowledged my queerness. I currently label myself as a queer demisexual.

I am severely disabled, essentially what used to be called crippled. I have reclaimed this term as well as queer and use both in my own blog's title. Friends can call me gay, queer, cripple/d and it is meant humorously and with zero spite. I will insult them back in kind, and we all laugh.

Being shouted at by a stranger or strangers in the street is a completely different matter. These words all become slurs loaded with spite & malice.

Context is everything.

Nevertheless I would not use the R-word [r*t*rd], ever.

This leads me to suggest that it is better to talk about an individual's behaviour rather than labelling the person. The act of two straight men kissing (as was used in a German awareness campaign §) might be described as a gay or queer act, but it does not make the men gay or queer, they are still straight. Would the men be insulted to be called gay or queer. In the example cited they would not, as they were strong allies of the LGBTQIA+ communities. Would the man-in-the-street? It totally depends on their own beliefs: some would take offence, others would not care less. As we cannot know a stranger's beliefs, we ought to refrain from using terms that could be construed as an insult.

Essentially it comes down to treating others as we wish to be treated: with kindness & respect. Try to empathise with the other person. Feel and express your own fearless humanity.

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Photo & ©️GQ Germany.

Mundpropaganda video on YouTube from GQ Germany.

Per Google AI:

The campaign you are looking for is "#Mundpropaganda – Gentlemen Against Homophobia", launched in December 2013 by GQ Germany. The anti-intolerance initiative featured 13 prominent heterosexual male celebrities—including actors and athletes—photographed sharing tender kisses on the lips to promote solidarity and a free, open society. [1, 2]

Key Campaign Details

• Meaning of the Name: "Mundpropaganda" is a German pun combining the terms for "word of mouth" and "kissing propaganda". [1]
• The Goal: The campaign was created to fight homophobia and show solidarity for LGBTQ+ rights, partly in response to anti-gay legislation that was circulating in Russia at the time. [1, 2]
• The Participants: The heterosexual figures who locked lips included actors August Diehl and Kostja Ullmann, Olympic beach volleyball champions Julius Brink and Jonas Reckermann, and rock stars like Johannes Strate (from the band Revolverheld). [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
• Impact: The photos were featured heavily across Germany on public transport, large-scale billboards, and inside the January 2014 print issue. [1, 2]

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On a personal note, I apologise for the lack of updates. I am severely disabled & chronically ill. 2026 thus far has been my worst year from a health-perspective since I first became disabled and ill back in the late 1990s.

I am working on several posts behind the scenes, but it takes me a very long time to complete a single blog-post.

Nevertheless, I thank first-time and returning readers for taking an interest in my thoughts.

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A Queer, Asexual's Sexual Fantasising?

WARNING: this blog-post deals with sexual matters. If the reader might be offended, do not proceed.

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My own sexual route

It took me longer than most to learn that I am a sexual being. I was late to masturbation; but once discovered, I loved the sense of vitality it invoked in me. Although I can go months without the need to self-pleasure. For most of my life I have been and am asexual. However, if I connect strongly with an individual I can be sexually turned on by them. This makes me a demisexual, a term only coined at the beginning of the twenty-first century. [For more on demisexuality see my blog-post here.]

Whilst I occasionally dipped into affinities with a sexual aspect, I did not actually fantasise about having sex until 1992 when I was twenty-eight. I went to university as a mature student. I met lots of interesting individuals, males and females, one of whom was a young lady to whom I felt a great attraction. It was a pleasant surprise to find myself fantasising about having sexual intercourse with her. This was my very first fantasy of having sex with someone.

There was a five year gap before I again enjoyed sexual fantasies, in 1997. This time it was fellatio with a man I had come to love. He averred that the feeling was reciprocated, but I do not believe he was capable of loving anyone, even himself. The relationship went nowhere and the fantasies quickly stopped.

My next sexual fantasies started a couple of years later in 1999. This time I had separate dreams of a man and a woman. My fantasies had me fucking the man, something I had not contemplated previously. My dreams with the woman had her fucking me with a strap-on and light BDSM, the first time I had fantasised about myself being the recipient of anal-intercourse. I sporadically enjoyed these lusty imaginings with one or the other of the two into 2001.

In 2001, I met a man who became my boyfriend, lover and then partner over several years. The sexual fantasies ceased; presumably as I had no need of them. The relationship ended in 2012.

I did not again experience any sexual fantasies until 2024 with the chap I was dating at the time. Once the affinity ended, so did the fantasies.

Before and between these sexual fantasies I had relationships with a sexual aspect. However, I have no idea as to why some affinities stimulated fantasies whilst others did not. Perhaps I was longing for more from a specific person than I in fact received. Perhaps I was longing for more from myself. When I am with someone I enjoy the sex we share in the moment. I cannot deny that for a short time afterwards I crave more sex with the person; but this yearning rapidly dissipates. But the desire does not transmute into fantasy.

Magazine articles and other media imply that men and women are constantly fantasising about having sex. If they are correct, then it may be my innate asexuality that is responsible for my lack of sexual fantasy.

Asexuality

[Histogram of minority sexualities listed in the England & Wales 2021 Census.]

I ought to point out that asexuality is considered to be a spectrum. Some individuals never have any kind of sexual attraction to anyone. Some folk may fantasise about engaging in sex, but have no desire to ever actually have sex with anyone. Some asexuals masturbate; others do not. There is, as one can perceive, no dichotomy.

Whilst asexuality has been known about since at least 1790, for which the Oxford English Dictionary (O.E.D.) can attest, there has been little research into the subject. It is estimated that one percent of the Western population is asexual. The highly-qualified statistics for the 2021 England & Wales Census suggest a figure of 0.6%, but asexuality is considered to have been under-reported.

Never have I been able to force a sexual fantasy, they simply suddenly make an appearance in my reveries.

These days having sexual fantasies is considered normal (except where such lead to obsessions, compulsions and behaviours that have a negative impact). So, if experiencing sexual fantasies is healthy is not having them unhealthy? Again, it depends on the circumstances. If a lack of same causes distress then obviously it is problematic. However, if there are no issues, then a lack of sexual fantasising is quite healthy. And, to be sure, asexuals often do not experience sexual fantasies.

Queerness

As a youth I was often supposedly insulted by bullies with the term queer. Actually I was and am queer, in the sense of being atypical. In the late 1980s gay men began to reclaim the term and into the 1990s Queer Theory was developed. Since then I have appropriated the term queer to describe myself in a positive sense rather than the pejorative sense my former bullies implied.

I am queer in the sense of being unique, and I do not mind that at all. I am queer in the way I experience sexual fantasies. And I am happy to accept my sexuality or lack thereof. I only ever experience sexual fantasies when I have a strong emotional attraction leading to a sexual attraction with another, i.e. during periods when I am demisexual. For the majority of the time I am asexual and do not experience sexual fantasies. And there's nothing abnormal or unhealthy about that.

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NB I am not a trained medical professional. If the reader has any qualms, then please seek advice from an appropriately trained source.

Graeme: a poëm

 

My tradition within this blog is for the first post of the year to be a poëm. In ten days time crippledqueeranglo-europeanranter will be twelve years old. Due to health issues (more below if the reader is interested) it is unlikely I shall return to celebrate. But one never knows!

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The poëm is one of three I wrote about my encounters with a queer chap named Graeme. I may post the other two, if I recall to do so.

For those who have not met the term Todeslied, it literally means “Death song” - a link to the Wikipedia item on Lieder can be found within the text.

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Graeme

“When times are good, be happy!” Ecclesiastes 7:14

Graeme

the image of a Gallagher brother

at least in the setting of your eyebrows

and sapphirine orbs;

not the inert eyes of Liam

yours incandesce

with ardour for life.

The poppers, spliffs and copious alcohol

obfuscate your senses:

perhaps

to help drop your defences;

perhaps

to heighten the pleasure

in the moment with self;

perhaps

to dull recollection.

of an affinity past

a long-lost treasure.

I regard you

enjoying the atavistic rhythms

of contemporary primal dance.

I see

melanic hair

highlighted with silver threads.

I see

heavy growth

a need for a shave soon.

I see

one whose manner

whose demeanour

radiates gentleness

composure

affability.

I see

your svelte body arc

in response to the latest tune.

I see

trendy attire

enhancing

a masculine physique,

ink-blue jeans cling

to small, pert buttocks

and referencing puerile youth

the adolescent fabric stretch

across slightly protruding

a-hum… genitalia;

momentarily

I imagine how it would feel

to glide my hands down

over your hips and thighs

and what-have-ya

but almost instantly

push the thought from my consciousness,

erase it from my mind’s-eyes.

I see

your lips caressing

insignificantly devious

teeth

in turn hiding

that lascivious

tongue.

I would like to kiss you

and note the politeness

inherent in my desire

- what would a psychiatrist

make of it all?

A perfunctory, salutary kiss

elicits the opportunity

to taste your sweet flesh

to feel the comforting

heat of your skin

to sense the warmth in

that fleeting labial caress.

I recollect the shared pleasure

listening

to the hopeful lyric

affirming

“You’re not alone”

… naturally

I have the propensity

to love you

passionately.

Were

indeed are

you aware

of the awe

that surrounded your entry

into our company:

you glanced over

you smiled;

you walked over

you smiled;

you passed by

you smiled;

you perched on the corner of our table

you smiled

- not that I memorised the scene

or anything!

“For heaven’s sake,

keep smiling!

I don’t care whether

it’s me

or one of you

he fancies,

just keep smiling!”

Or does the natural beauty

of your friends and companions

blind you

to the effect of your presence?

So at ease with total strangers

you issue an invitation;

contrary to common-sense

impulsively

or instinctually

I accept.

You give me another quick cheek-kiss

My friends and I share

with your friends

Victoria and Chris

a short taxi-ride

to Victoria Park.

You and I bop

drink tea

chat.

“I’m bisexual”

I confide.

“I know”

you reply,

“I have a friend who’s bisexual

he has a girlfriend

but likes the odd bloke on the side”

you continue

- metaphorically?

You determine more about me

than I about you;

a lifetime’s précis

in ten minutes

(although it probably

seemed much longer

- I could write that book

on how to be a complete bore

or should that be boor!);

we talk

and talk more;

quite literally

hours pass.

You announce

to no-one

or someone

specifically

fixing your gaze on me

your requirements:

a good shagging;

a hot, steaming, candle-lit bath;

an aromatic massage;

a bed with freshly-laundered sheets

… well, let me see

I could definitely fulfil three

of your needs.

In the early morning

we step out into the wet new-day,

we slide into a fast car.

The dance-beat continues;

yawning

I cannot hear what you say.

Content

to look at your nape

the back of your head

the left-side of your face

to look into your eyes

in the rear-view mirror

- they reflect nothing back;

emotional vampyrism

- no, too exotic;

probably

fatigue and concentration

or acknowledgement

of the rush to oblivion

self-destruction.

The Todeslied

reminds us

death is an horizon

we cannot view

beyond.

On the parcel-shelf

I espy

your limp, discarded top

askew

an empty skin

somehow erotic;

I touch it

and feel

your moistness;

I dare not inhale

the pheromones

- after all,

it would not be decorous!

I live a whole life

in those final few minutes

loving and losing

as in all Forsterian affinities

hopeful and hopeless.

You remind me

once again

to issue an invitation

to my birthday-party

then give me your number.

I prepare to give you

the obligatory

gay cheek-peck

but somehow

our faces do not quite align

and we meet

cheeks

and lips

in an unhurried hug.

Once again

aware of the falling rain,

I turn to head homewards

for much-needed slumber

then pause to wait

under a dripping arbour-gate.

I hear the reversing car:

it shoots around the bend;

you beep the horn;

the girls wave;

and

in a flash of spray

a blur of vision

you are

gone

…

corporeally absent

spiritually present

or engrammatically

imprinted

in time

in memory

in me.

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The song referenced is “You’re Not Alone” (1997) by Olive.

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My physical health and my mental health have both taken a turn for the worse. I have been working on a letter to my G.P. on and off for over three months. I find it very difficult to concentrate for more than a few minutes. Then I am exhausted for several days. This all relates to inter alia the Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and the lack of social-care. I am trying to hold on to Hope, and mostly succeeding.

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Extremely late, I reälise, but given the current state of global-affairs, I nonetheless bid all my readers a happy, healthy & peaceful new year. 🙏🏻