bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings

Thursday, August 14, 2003


"Holt had watched Horse for a while, tormented with hunger himself, but a hunger more for another man than for food. Food he had in his pack, dried, hard but nourshing. Man he no longer had... for he had shot and killed his best friend, his lover."

I am soooooo looking forward to reading Gay Vigilante! This paperback is 31 years old, and somehow I managed to find 2 copies (and so some luck eBayer can get one of them, click pic-link to see the auction)! Right now I am thoroughly enjoying Song Of The Loon - another Greenleaf Classic (one of the better-known publishers of gay pulp fiction - and plenty of non-gay, too) - this one from 1966. I hadn't expected it to be so sexually explicit (but 1966 is when the adult novel more or less exploded with more genitally-specific descriptions of sex), but better yet, it's a rather interesting exploration of "free-love", partnership between men, and perhaps the more fun part - the uptight white men (and some Indians) who can't come to terms with their own love of other men.

"Ah, Ephraim," Cyrus breathed. "I know how you think, for I am a white man too. But in the Loon Society it is not that way; who am I to say that Singing Heron shouldn't love whomever he pleases? I am not his master; nor is he mine; love is equality, not slavery."
Ephraim closed his eyes tightly, fumbling for words. "Then these partnerships," he said, "must be very loose and casual."
Cyrus laughed softly. "They are sometimes extremely fleeting, which doesn't mean - believe me - that they can't be as lovely as a hummingbird's flight across a hillside of flowers -"
"It's so terribly different -" Ephraim murmured.
Cyrus stared at the slanting rays of gold that poured through the forest and flowed through his thick beard. His blue eyes squinted in the sunlight. "Yes, beautifully different. Only a few of us know, really deeply, the meaning of those words."