American Savage by Dan Savage

American Savage by Dan Savage

Author:Dan Savage [Savage, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay Studies, Popular Culture, Essays, Social Science, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780525954101
Publisher: Dutton Adult
Published: 2013-05-28T00:00:00+00:00


This book would run to several volumes if I were to clear up everything I’ve gotten wrong in the twenty years that I’ve been writing Savage Love. So I’m not going to do that. I don’t really need to do that. Ever since readers forced me to turn my fake sex-and-relationship advice column into a real sex-and-relationship advice column—which required me to drop the “Hey, Faggot” salutation after a few years—I’ve viewed Savage Love as a conversation I’m having about sex with friends in a bar after we’ve all had a drink. A few drinks. While I like to think I’m usually right about sex-and-relationship stuff, and while I’m a pretty informed guy (particularly now, after looking stuff up for twenty years), I do sometimes get things wrong. And when I do my drunken friends set me straight. They send me angry e-mails; they argue with me in comments threads; they furiously tweet at me. Pretty soon everything is cleared up, or at least everyone has had a chance to be heard, and we’re on to the next week’s column.

Bi men tried to set me straight back when I first put “bisexual men don’t exist” in print.

But “bisexual men don’t exist” was the received gay wisdom at the time and I regurgitated that bit of wisdom more than once—usually in jest (I knew some bisexual men)—because: (1) It jibed with my own experience, that is, most of the bi guys I dated turned out to be closeted gay men (which turned out to be a problem with my sample and not a problem with bisexuality; more on that in a few hundred words), and (2) it didn’t seem like that big a deal. I saw my disbelief as inconsequential. I wasn’t the audience of preschoolers at a production of Peter Pan, and bisexual men weren’t a crowd of Tinker Bells—their existence didn’t depend on the power of my belief. (“Clap louder, Dan, or Bisexer Bell won’t continue to be attracted to men and women!”) And I saw the back-and-forth with ticked-off bi guys in the column as just more of the playful assholery that made Savage Love great. I see now that my gay-received-wisdom shtick was hurtful to some.

But there were bisexuals out there who saw the humor. I was even invited to sit in a dunk tank at one bisexual organization’s annual Valentine’s Day bash. I accepted the invite, donned full drag, and got dunked, over and over again, in an unheated ballroom in Seattle in February, raising hundreds of dollars for the group. (This was after I had gotten into it in print with a bisexual reader who said that she didn’t fall in love with genitals. She fell in love with people. I took offense on behalf of all monosexuals, the term she used to describe non-bisexuals, because my husband isn’t a dick with legs. Well, he’s not all the time. Sometimes he’s an ass with arms.)

As a result of the jokes, the dunk tanks, and my



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