When I was growing up I thought ‘monster’ was my name. I don’t know how long it will take me to get over the effects of these unfortunate quasi-nomination games by my unfortunate parents, but the fact remains: I don’t really want anyone calling me monster ever again, even if it is the self-proclaimed messiah, the omnipresent and omnipotent Lady Gaga, who is so eager to protect the Other. I haven’t asked her to delegate for me, the freak, and the outsider. But hold on. I didn’t get to the best part yet. I am also ‘little’.
So Lady Gaga has upset her gay fans? Really? Finally, I mean? I thought I was the slow one but hey, it takes perspective, and wisdom, to see what you have in front of you. And in the case of Lady Gaga, there is nothing but cold-blooded calculation, which is heartbreaking. She was such a visionary in those days of 'Poker Face' yore.
The trouble is, you see, the people you are 'speaking' for may start resenting you someday. After all, they have a voice of their own. I, for that matter, don’t need anyone to tell me what I should be labeled just because my sexuality is what it is (I won’t tell, keep guessing). And, frankly speaking, uplifting words about how everyone is beautiful coming from a person strategically and systematically covering up her face, sounds not only false and laughable but insulting. Not everyone is beautiful, period.
But the difference between Gaga and the other Others is that they can’t cover their faces up with paint, a Phillip Tracey hat or a smoking swarm of cigarette butts. They have to deal with that reflection in the mirror every day, because ‘little monsters’ or not, going to the office in an eggshell is a no-no, and Gaga isn’t helping anyone in any way by screaming that she was 'born this way' because she wasn’t. She was born some other way. The rest was manufactured.