Overhearing homophobia made me wonder when it's ok to intervene in strangers' conversation


“Can you try and say goodbye without touching me?” says a man on the train to one of his friends. Others in their group laugh as if they’ve just heard something genuinely funny. The joke – I untangle from the past twenty minutes or so of their homophobic banter – is that if a man touches another man… that’s the kind of thing a homosexual might do. Get it? It’s pretty highbrow stuff, so don’t feel too bad if it’s gone right over your head.

One of the few things I have in common with these guys – the fact we’re all getting off at the London tube stop of Vauxhall – has been a source of hilarity for them for some time. Because Vauxhall, you know Gay? The area has a lot of gay night life, and the lads have been doing lispy impressions of the gay men they might encounter in Vauxhall.

It’s around ten in the evening, and they’re drunk. I’m painfully sober. For as long as they’ve been laughing about the existence of gays, I’ve been clamping my jaw, agonising over whether or not to confront them about it.

A much lower stakes version of this had arisen the other day, when I overheard a couple on the tube having a conversation about the Oscars. The man was trying to come up with the name of “that actress, whatshername – you know, the one from The Crown. She’s in everything. She’s in Peep Show!”

I held the name “Oliva Colman” in my mouth, behind clenched teeth.
“Ooh, ooh, ooh,” said the woman, flapping her arms slightly, “Yeah, whatshername.”

I wondered whether to just pipe up - whether it would be creepy, or citizenly.

They ended up getting there on their own, all the while my pulse sky rocketing. Had I said something, they probably wouldn’t have hurled abuse at me or threatened violence. But now, on this train, these guys might. If I pipe up, that is. What is it about public transport that forces us into these sometimes frustrating, sometimes downright awful situations? Being in close proximity to people who are wrong… well it’s a bit like Twitter brought to life.

But it’s not just about piping up or piping down. So often now, in these politically toxic times, we’re forced to pick our battles. We’re placed in situations where we can either stand up for what we believe in and most likely achieve nothing, or stay quiet and feel ashamed. It’s hard enough to tell an acquaintance they have spinach in their teeth, let alone confront somebody about a part of their behaviour that degrades you as a human. And it seems disjointed somehow that – when it comes to confronting strangers - I’d allow someone to walk around all day with toilet paper stuck to their shoe, while willingly putting myself in danger by calling a large, aggressive man a c**t (as I had actually done earlier in the day, when a man barged past my girlfriend in the street).

The train stops at Vauxhall and I get off with the homophobes. We go our separate ways, me fuming, and them laughing uproariously at the mere concept of same-sex attraction. But hey, perhaps a lifetime of going around in bootcut jeans and loafers is punishment enough for them.

Plus, I’d already picked my battle for that day, and it wasn’t justifying my existence to idiots.
 
Butting into conversations, especially to be a busybody, never makes you likeable. The best thing is to have a chuckle about it later, like overhearing part of a casual conversation between two guys in a different department come to the conclusion that being gang-raped wouldn't be enjoyable.
 
Lesbians always consider violence as an option. Especially when it's their "special other." They are a bioweapon. They can be likened to quarterbacks or orcs of the American football bumbusting armada of very serious individuals™ . In order to assert their homosexuality, they must conflate pain with pleasure in rituals of penis envy and fist fury. I will never forget many things about lesbians but the truth is that they are fetishsized in ways that the borg standard faggot simply isn't. In order to push the Agenda (21) of the new age, they are the front-line (again, quarter backs); their righteous fury against the insult of the faggots is likened to their rage against their property of significant others though this time they aren't around so fists must fly at the drunkards. It is lucky that she was probably wearing a beanie otherwise her cranial would have bloated to such an extent where violence would have been an inevitability.
 
In the 1960's Rod Serling made an episode of The Twilight Zone called Four O' Clock. It was about a busybody (like the woman who wrote this article,) who examined everyone in his community (a tough thing to do before the internet came along,) and rated them according to their level of subversiveness. He had a plan to shrink all of the people he deemed unworthy at the titular hour of Four O'Clock. (It should come as no surprise that, at the end of the episode, he was the only one who found himself being shrunk.)


This episode was made during the McCarthy Era, so naturally the busybody was a rabid anti-communist and anti-progressive. But, as awful as he was portrayed to be, he STILL regarded some of his enemies as merely ignorant people who could be redeemed and reeducated. It's telling that the writers of this show couldn't bring themselves to imagine a rabid ideologue destroying someone who was ill-informed or repentant of his past misdeeds. And yet today, many SJWs do just that, viewing an apology as a sign to pile on and turn their target into an example of what happens when you wrongthink. Let that sink in. Today's SJWs are worse than the busybody guy from Four O'Clock, who was seen as the worse possible person one could possibly be at that time.
 
As someone who lives in an area with a high gay population I can tell you most gay guys don't give a fuck about fag jokes, in fact most of them actively engage in telling and laughing at them. Which leads me to believe this dumb cunt who's insistent on being offended on behalf of others doesn't even know any faggots.

But it's a moot point because no one is talking to you bitch. People are allowed to have conversations about shit you don't like and you're not obligated to listen. If you do decide to stick your nose into it uninvited be prepared to be told to go fuck yourself in the most "problematic" language you can imagine.
 
Lots of people here are saying this didn't happen.

That's not the point. I make gay jokes all the time. I've had gay friends who have made gay jokes. This happening isn't exactly outside the realm of possibility.

The point is that this is the stupidest fucking thing to get in a tizzy over and write an article about. It's the epitome of outrage culture. People like this author are utterly bereft of any idea of what constitutes a serious societal problem in need of a solution. Or, if they do, they're simply too intimidated by such problems, and the expectation of them of positing a actual solution, so you get crap like this. Crap where the solution simply involves thought and speech regulation, and the problem is minimal or non-existent.

The scary thing is, some of these idiots will be wielding political power soon. Indeed, some of them already are.
 
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