Authenticity, Friendships, and Coming Out

Average gay dude wrote a short but powerful post about coming out yesterday.  I highly recommend checking it out.  He encourages everyone to come out, expressing what he sees (and I concur) as a terrific benefit:

No one said coming out was easy, but it will be the most beneficial decision to your happiness. But one thing I can promise you is that you’ll feel FREE.

I think every single one of us who have been there were smiling and nodding along with that statement.  It's one thing to admit to yourself that you're gay or bisexual.  And there's a lot of power to be found in the self-acceptance process.  But there's a lot to be said for admitting it to others as well.  Average gay dude is right:  It's about freedom.

• It's about freedom from having to hide who you were with Friday night.
• It's about freedom from having to change pronouns.
• It's about freedom from having to worry about who sees you with your date or lover.
• But most importantly, it's about the freedom to share your authentic self with others.

Okay, some of us think
we're in the closet when
everyone's already figured
it out anyway.

I'm grateful that when I first accepted myself as a gay man and started the coming out process, I was constantly bombarded with messages that emphasized that last point.  Much of the coming out advice I read contained a statement similar to the following:

Always remember that the reason you're coming out to the person in front of you is because you care enough about them that you want to be truly honest with them and share the real you with them.

As a total people-person^[1], that idea is always important to me.  I think it's also what makes the coming out process so scary, especially when it comes time to come out to loved ones who are already an important part of our lives.  We fear that those loved ones may prove to be too attached to the not-quite-accurate versions of ourselves that we've presented them for so long.  We fear they might actually prefer that version of ourselves to the more authentic and more fully multidimensional versions of ourselves we are now offering to share with them.  We fear this could create endless conflict or even a permanent loss of that relationship.

I've been blessed in that most of the people I've been close to were able to come around to accept and embrace the "new" (though "newly revealed" or "more fully revealed" might be more accurate) me.  Even my mother has started to ask me about dates I mention in passing or any boyfriend I might have at the moment.  Sure, it took her over a decade to reach that point, but here we are now.  It wasn't an easy road, but in the end it was worth it.

Those who could not fully accept who I was, I've allowed to drift away.  In at least one case, it was pretty easy as the process had already begun.  In fact, in that case, the person had been out of my life for several years and I mainly came out to her to let her know why I doubted it would be a good idea to rejuvenate our nearly dead friendship.  (She agreed.)

While that pain was small for me, I do know the pain that comes with the realization that sharing a more honest version of myself may mean rejection.  And I can understand why many fear facing the painful realization that even one of their close friends may choose to reject zir true self when it is offered.

I also know that in time, the pain of such rejection when it occurs fades.  The pain of lying to someone and knowing (or even just fearing) that the only reason they'll stay by your side is to keep the lie going will last indefinitely, compounded each time that choice is reenacted.  In the end, I prefer and recommend the pain that lasts briefly and will fade to be replaced by the acceptance of those who can and will cherish one's authentic self.  Many old friends will stay true, and there are new friends to be added.  In the end, I think that's worth it.

---

^[1]It may seem ironic to some people that I'm also an introvert.  The thing is, being a people person is very much a separate issue from being introverted or extroverted.  We introverted people persons might be a bit odd, and we certainly might struggle to balance our desire to be connected to others with our need to have our alone time and rich inner lives, but we do exist.

I could, but I won't.

Every now and then, I like to check out the trending hashtags on Twitter and see if I want to participate in them.  I figure it's a way to meet new people, possibly get new followers on Twitter, and even get readers on the blog.  Plus it can be fun.

Hey, I might go down
the wrong path, but at least
it'll be the path I picked.

The other day, I ran across the then-trending hashtag #ICantDateYou.  It seemed like a fun hashtag at first glance, and there were both silly contributions and more serious ones.  So I sat down and tried to think of what contributions that I might offer that were silly, witty, insightful, or some combination thereof.  But I started running into a problem in my mind.  I had a problem with the hashtag and its implications.  So finally, I offered my only contribution:

#ICantDateYou because...oh let's be more honest than that.  I CAN.  I just WON'T.  #OwningMyChoices

To some, that may seem like a nitpicky semantic difference.  To me, however, that difference means the difference between feeling like a passive observer in my own life and a decisive actor who steers my own course.

Truth be told, I can date a guy who isn't over his ex.  I can date a guy who doesn't like to kiss.  I can date a guy who will do anything to stay in the closet, even if it means acting in ways that are to my detriment.

I just don't want to.

And to be honest, I want that to be very clear to each and every one of those guys.  I don't want them to think that I really wan to be with them and I just need them to change something to accommodate me.  That sort of phrasing puts me at their mercy, and I don't want that either.  I don't want to be their helpless pawn who needs them to change.

And I make that clear by saying, "I don't want this."  It makes it clear that I know what I can do, but more importantly, I know what I will do.  It says that I am not only prepared to walk away from their nonsense, their baggage, and their choices that hurt and disrespect me, but I will do so with my head held high.

There is power in owning my choices.  There is power in saying, "Yeah, I could do that, but there's no way in hell I'm going to.  I value myself too much for that."

Courage

In my last post, I mentioned living courageously.  Whenever I think of courage, I think of a certain quote.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but the judgment that something else is more important than fear.

I first heard that quote as part of the movie "The Princess Diaries" and only found out later that it's a real quote attributed to the otherwise obscure novelist, Ambrose Redmoon.  The moment I heard it, though, I fell in love with the quote, as have many people.  I think it's popular because it let's us know that the fact that we are afraid does not automatically disqualify us from being courageous.  (Indeed, that notion was even the central theme of a relatively recent and popular movie.)

It's a great relief to know that it's okay if I'm afraid.  I don't have to be some stalwart Spartan who knows only the thrill of battle.  I can quake in my boots instead.  All that is required of me is that I grit my teeth, and do what I believe needs to be done, what I believe will be in my best interests, despite the fact that I might need a paper bag to hyperventilate into and a change of pants afterward.  The fact that I did it at all means that I am courageous.

I can feel like this guy
and still act courageously.

Am I nervous about going to the bar on a busy night where I don't know anyone?  That's okay.  I'm allowed to be afraid.  But if I'm serious about meeting other people, I'd be wise -- and courageous -- to do it anyway.  That is more important than my fear and hiding from it.  Am I afraid of rejection?  Absolutely!  And that's okay.  But I don't want to be alone and isolated, so mustering up my courage and reaching out to others, making myself vulnerable, is more important than hiding from that fear.

Truth be told, life is all about risks, and risks are scary.  I think that a person would have to be inhuman in order to be totally unafraid.  But fortunately, we don't have to be ruled by our fear.  We can say, "fears be damned, I'm going to do it anyway and deal with whatever comes, including my fears."

Thank the gods for true courage.  Not the fake "nothing scares me" courage, but authentic "I'm scared shitless, but I'm going to take the plunge anyway" courage.

Bi guys are cool

After writing about my first lover last night and reading this post by JF today, I've been thinking a bit about the topic of bisexuality.  I'm one of those (seemingly rare) gay men that have no problems believing that some guys are honestly attracted to both men and women.  I don't think that all guys who claim to be bisexual are "unwilling to come out all the way," "sitting on the fence," or some other nonsense.  Sure, I'm 100% gay and the thought of becoming physically or sexually intimate with a woman leaves me feeling cold and a little weirded out, but I'm not foolish enough to believe that every guy -- or even every non-heterosexual guy -- is just like me.  People are diverse in a lot of ways, and in that way, bisexuality makes a lot of sense to me.

I also have no problems dating a bisexual guy, which is a good thing, considering that three out of the five guys I've officially dated (we won't talk about the one-nighters and the hot messes that never quite got to the state of actually dating) were bi.  I've found that by and large, bi guys are much like gay guys.  They're either into you or they're not.  Who else they are into really isn't an issue.  Yes, I prefer monogamy and I make that up front.  But let's be honest, bisexual guys don't have a monopoly on non-monogamy.  Plenty of gay guys like to have multiple partners and relationships.  And I wish those gay guys -- and like minded bisexual guys, for that matter -- the best in pursuing what makes them happy.  But we're looking for different things and I hope they can respect that.

The other issue I hear many gay guys express is concern -- and honestly, I think there's sometimes a certain amount of resentment behind it -- that a bisexual guy will decide to abandon a guy when the going gets tough and get involved with a woman so they can blend in.  I don't think that's giving bisexual guys enough credit, personally.  I'd like to think that if a bisexual guy gets to know me and has feelings for me, he'll decide that I'm worth the troubles that come with sticking in a relationship with me.  To automatically assume he would do otherwise would involve me making judgments abut his character based on nothing but my personal prejudices.

The thing is, what those gay guys fear is not the guy's bisexuality, but the fear that he's still in the closet.  Having dated a few closet cases^[1] (and yes, two of them were bi), I can certainly understand the feeling to a degree.  After all, it's hard to build a relationship with someone who's unwilling to be seen with you or claim his love for you.

 But again, this is a problem that is neither exclusive to nor universal to bisexual guys.  I've known brave bi guys who were ready to face whatever comes for a guy he loves and believes in.  I've met gay guys who were total closet cases.  It's not a sexual orientation thing.  It's a failure to live courageously thing.

To be honest, I think a lot of gay guys who assume bi guys will turn tail and head for the closet and a woman at the first sign of trouble are engaging in a bit of projection.  I suspect that they assume this because there's a part of them that knows that if they had that option and could make it work, that's what they would do.  Like I said, I think there's a bit of resentment going on, because those guy guys know they don't have that option, but someone else might.

So yeah, bi or gay, I love all guys and give them all a chance.  If a guy is attractive, interested, able to commit,^[2] and willing to take a chance on me, that's good enough for me.

---

^[1]Let me be clear here.  Not every guy in the closet is a closet case.  There are guys who are in the closet for very good reason.  A younger guy who decides not to come out of the closet to his parents until he no longer needs their financial support is making a smart decision.  A guy who tends to not talk about his life love and/or change pronouns when talking about his partner at work so a homophobic boss doesn't fire him or make his work environment miserable.

Closet cases are those guys who are so deep in the closet and so paranoid that their cover will be blown that their behavior begins to negatively impact others in their lives.  The financially independent guy who still refuses to spend holidays with his boyfriend of five years because family doesn't know is a closet case.  The guy who pulls away from any sort of physical affection despite the fact that he's surrounded by total strangers "just in case someone he knows sees him" is a closet case.

^[2]When the time comes.  I don't expect to discuss China patterns until at least the tenth date.^[3]  ;)

^[3]And I don't count the number of dates, either.

Remembering my first time

Warning:  Frank sex talk ahead.

I'm not sure how my mind got here, but I'm thinking back to my first boyfriend, who also happened to be the first guy I had sex with.  (Well, besides a high school friend who I used to engage in mutual masturbation with.)  For the purposes of this post, I will refer to him as Satyr Boi.  I don't plan on adding his code name to the score card, as I only really plan on talking about him this one time.  After all, he has been out of my life for close to fifteen years.  But you know what they say, you never completely forget your first guy.

Believe it or not, that's about what
Satyr Boi's body hair looked like.

By the time we actually had sex, I had known Satyr Boi for about seven months.  We had met online and then officially met at a get-together of online chats before we became sexually intimate.  Originally, we had planned on having sex at that get-together (it was a weekend affair), but he was still very new to the whole bisexual thing and he backed out.  But we still talked regularly and even spent a week together a month before the "big event."  Then we made plans to get together for a few days.  He didn't have a car at the time, so I arranged to meet him about three hours from my home (he lived in another state) and pick him up for those few days.

I remember that we were still about an hour from my home when he announced that he had decided he was ready to have sex with me.  Let me tell you, that made the rest of the drive tense for me.  The anticipation practically killed me, and we even talked about whether pulling over someplace and finding a secluded spot for a quickie -- or at least a fast blowjob -- was a good idea.  In the end, we waited.

We spent much of those three days talking, watching movies, and fooling around.  And while I cherish those moments, I will admit that the sex wasn't the greatest.  We were both so inexperienced that we had problems, including the fact that he kept slipping out whenever he tried to penetrate me.  This meant that we spent most of our time engaging in oral sex, which was pleasant and I felt I did a good job.  But he was still suffering from some personal hang-ups, which meant he never got off.  While I understood, I took that as a personal blow to my ego.  (I suppose that's why I take such pride whenever I get compliments on my oral skills today.)

But despite that, I have to say that it was a wonderful few days.  Sure, the sex felt incomplete and was full of problems, but just being able to spend time with another guy with such naked (pun not intended, but if the condom fits...) intimacy was truly powerful.  I would say that Satyr Boi was the first guy I ever truly loved in addition to being the first guy I ever became sexually intimate with.

It's no wonder that I became clingy.  While Satyr Boi was dealing with his self-acceptance issues, I was dealing with my own demons of fearing losing someone, of being alone, and of being isolated.  So I found myself clinging to him more tightly, wanting to hold on to that experience and making more such experiences with him in the future.

In the end, we never saw each other after that three day rendezvous.  Our individual issues created a huge mess between us which tore us apart.  Indeed, other than a brief and heated conversation with him a year later, I never really talked to Satyr Boi again.  I don't know what happened to him. For all I know, he may be happily married to a woman now.  Or he may have worked through his own problems and is now in a relationship with some great guy.  Who knows.  Wherever he is and whatever he's doing, I hope he's healthy and happy.

I will always cherish my memories of him and our (sub-par) sexual experiences together.

Powerful Story

Joan Garrett shares the story of former minister Matt Nevels and how learning that his son, Stephen, was gay and dying of AIDS changed his life.  The whole article is moving and powerful.  I want to draw particularly attention to Matt's former church's response when Stephen came to live with his parents while he waited for the end:

Cards arrived, with reassurances about resting in God's will. But few hinted at the gay issue. Dr. Steelman sent three notes that Frances kept in a box with all the other condolences, but he didn't visit them or come talk to Stephen.

One of Dr. Steelman's cards read: "Someone mentioned to me yesterday that Steve's condition has declined rapidly. ... We are praying for both of you that God will grant you the needed strength to deal with your tragedy."

At the time, Stephen asked his father why no one from the church leadership visited. Matt didn't know what to say. He figured some people were afraid of touching his son. Maybe they were afraid any kindness could be translated as acceptance.

Actually, these church people should
not be called goats.  This guy is much
cuter than their awful behavior.

Many of us who have come out have felt the rejection of our former church families.  Those who would congratulate themselves for refraining from open condemnation would do to remember that simple silent distancing can be just as hurtful and destructive to someone who once believed you value them.

As for a church full of people who could not bring themselves to visit one who was sick and in misery and most certainly needed their love and support, allow me offer another quote, one that should be shamefully familiar to these church-goers:

Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not."

Then shall they also answer him, saying, "Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?"

Then shall he answer them, saying, "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal."

Let's Move Beyond The Gay Movie Ghetto

Today, I ended up reading a couple blog posts by Max (whose blog I just found and already adore) in which he talks about introducing the guy in his life to various gay-themed movies.  I threw out a few other titles that Max didn't mention of movies that I thought were well worth introducing Brandon to.  As is often the case, this got me in the mood to watch a few of my favorite movies in the genre, myself.  As such, I powered up the Wii, logged into Netflix, and started doing a search of some of my favorite titles.

Alas, Netflix doesn't stream the movie I really wanted to see, "The Broken Hearts Club," so I ended up settling for the first and second movies in the "Eating Out" series.  I suppose that's just as well.  I was tired and far more willing to let myself fall asleep during those movies than I might have been if I had been able to go with my first choice.  And since I adore that entire series, I was perfectly happy to watch (or doze off through) those movies.

There's no rule that says these two
can't be gay lovers who unleash
the next mummy's curse.

But as I got thinking about gay-themed movies, I got thinking about how they're all so much alike in a sense.  From where I sit, I can count the twenty one movies in the genre that are sitting together on a shelf -- and as I can immediately think of other titles that are not among that group, I know I have even more such movies than that -- it occurs that every last one of them (okay, "Jeffrey" is slightly different, given how much it focuses on the issue of dating in a world where HIV exists) is a story centered on somebody coming to terms with their sexual orientation, two people (usually men, though I do have a couple titles that are about lesbians) try to find love together (and because "Jeffrey" still fits this pattern, I only give it partial credit for being "slightly different"), or both.  It occurs to me that in many ways, Hollywood -- even the smaller movie studios that focus on "gay themed" movies -- are failing us by keeping us locked in a certain type of movie.

I want a different kind of gay movie.  I want a movie where a hero happens to be gay, but whose heroism is defined by something other than his (or her) sexual orientation.  I want a movie about Wyoming Smith, who faces the same kind of perilous traps and adrenaline-inducing fights and escapes that Indiana Jones faced, but rather than drawing beautiful woman closer in triumph, runs a hand along the well-muscled arm of his local guide and companion, says, "I couldn't have made it through without you," and gives him a passionate kiss.  I want a comedy where zany things happen to Tim at the office, and he comes home to tell his husband Bruce about it.

You see, heterosexual protagonists get to do all kinds of things in their movies.  They get to be adventurers.  They get to be down on their luck and trying to make a comeback.  They get to discover the massive conspiracy which forces them to run for their lives until they decide to fight back.  And they get to have all this while kissing women (or men, in the case of the rare female protagonist) or have a thirty second scene of steamy sensual foreplay (and presumably sex, though I'm usually spared actually seeing that part) as a brief interlude before the driving action of the main plot resumes.

I want that for gay protagonists.  I love my protagonists who spend entire movies building romances and/or coming to terms with their sexuality.  But I think it's time that Hollywood enables those protagonists to branch out and become romantically and sexually active gay protagonists that also do other amazing and story-worthy things.

The journey to belonging

Last night, I went to Home Bar to enjoy a bit of the show upstairs, talk with Management, and go for a walk.  (I love walking through the part of town that Home Bar is situated in.)  After exchanging pleasantries with Management -- who was outside selling hotdogs, hamburgers, and other grilled food items -- I wandered over to the entrance and walked through the first floor to make my way upstairs for the show.

I might become a social butterfly yet!

As I meandered through the karaoke crowd toward the stairs, I found myself nodding to or even stopping briefly to say hello to a number of people:  Fellow Geek, Sassy Waiter, one of Sweet Cynic's former love/sex (it's never clear which he's actually looking for, and I doubt even he knows) interests, and even Rumor Queen.  By the time, the realization hit me:  I can't make my way through this place anymore without running into someone I know.

I'm not really sure when that happened.  I can still vaguely remember the old days -- back before I met Rumor Queen and even while he and I were dating -- when I hardly knew anyone.  Going to Home Bar was an uncomfortable experience for me, because I felt like a lone traveler surrounded by strangers, with no sense of how to say hello or establish friendships with any of the people around me, people who all seemed far more connected.  People who seemed to all know each other and didn't really need some stranger trying to force his way into their social circles.

It made the thought of going out to such a place seem terrifyingly daunting.  It's one of the reasons I was thankful when Rumor Queen and I started dating.  He seemed to be part of that world, and I hoped that sticking with him would provide me with a ticket to becoming part of the crowd, someone truly integrated and welcome rather than a stranger wandering through while remaining an outsider.

Rumor Queen never did provide me a pathway to change that, at least not the way I expected him to.  To be honest, he was the kind to run off and chat with all his friends he already had established history with me and then come back to me when he was tired.  The only way in which he socially helped me -- and I am thankful to him for that, though he may have come to regret it -- is that he provided me with my first introduction to Management and Sweet Waiter.  Through them, I met Sassy Waiter and the rest of the Home Bar staff.  That encouraged me to keep coming back, which allowed me to reconnect with Fellow Geek, who I already knew from other venues.  From there, I just started to meet people.  People even started saying hello to me.

I don't really have a "crowd" or group of friends I hang with when I go to Home Bar.  I'm still very much a lone traveler a lot of the time I'm there.  And yet, I'm a lone traveler who knows people, who is known and recognized by those others, and feels like I'm part of the greater whole.  And it's built a great sense of confidence for me.

As I walked up the stairs to wait for the first show of the night to smile, I smiled at how Home Bar has earned its name in my heart and how that journey has changed me for the better.

Moderation? What's that?

This week was a relatively quiet week.  Three out of the five weekdays, I came home after work and took a nap.  I guess I'm still tired from whatever I did to myself last weekend.  That or else I'm tired from the previous week, which was a constant run-fest for me.

Granted, I like getting out and having fun.  I'm glad I'm doing it more, because it's something I need to do.  I think I just need to find balance.  After all, I seem to have this pattern going:

1.  Realize I'm not doing anything but staying home.  Get sad.
2.  Decide to do something about it.  Start going out a lot.
3.  Tire myself out and either get sick or come to the hairy edge of doing so.
4.  Decide to stay in to get rested back up.  Find myself so tired that I stay in all the time until it becomes my normal pattern again.
5.  Restart the cycle at step 1.

If only one of these could help me
balance my various needs.

What can I say?  Colorful is a creature of extremes.  I'm endeavoring to change that, though.  So I'm trying to go out some nights and stay in other nights in the same week.  I know, this is probably a no-brainer for most people.  But like I said, I tend to go to extremes.  Moderation is a virtue I need to develop.  (That and patience, but I'm going to make that virtue wait!)  So this does involve some learning and practice on my part.

That's why I ended up deciding to stay in last night.  Originally, I was going to go to Home Bar at least to say hello to Management and the others.  But I just decided that I can and will see them tonight.  We can wait that long.  Especially since I stopped in there for dinner on Thursday.

Sweet Cynic was a bit disappointed, as we tentatively planned to go there together last night.  But to be honest, the thought of taking Sweet Cynic with me made the prospect of going out even less desirable.  In addition to the fact that it's hard to be around him when he's drinking, there's the fact that I can't come and go as I please when he's with me.  I've had more than one occasion where I've told him I was ready to go and he kept doing the "one more drink/one more minute/one more whatever" thing until I finally blew up and told him I was leaving immediately and that unless he wanted to find another way home, he better get in the car.

And that's not the kind of person you want to be around when you're trying to develop a sense of balance between going out and having a good time and getting the rest and quiet time your mind and body need.

Fire and Ice gets steamy?

Fellow Geek and I got talking about animated films and particularly Japanese anime while at Home Bar Sunday night.  He mentioned a film from 1983 that I had never seen before, "Fire and Ice."  So last night, I decided to find it on Netflix.  It turns out that Netflix has the movie available for streaming, so I sat down and watched it.

I enjoyed it and thought it was a fairly good film.  The plot wasn't terribly complex and the characters were underdeveloped, but given the fact that I felt the movie was trying to go for that fairy tale adventure style, those are understandable failings, to the point of not really being failings.

What surprised me, however, was what I felt were some pretty strong homoerotic undertones.  I don't know if that was intentional or merely my own warped imagination.  So I went on YouTube, found the whole movie in a single video, and decided I'd share it with my readers to see what all of you think.

Here are some of the things that jumped out at me:

At 8:00:  Larn is laying on the ground, surrounded by subhumans.  The camera shows an up-close and personal shot of his crotch and then very slowly pans up his body to his face where he opens his eyes.  Total eye-candy moment.

At 10:00: As Larn tries to climb the tree, the dying subhuman rushes up to him and does a full-on caress of his lower back and ass.  All shown close up and personal so you get to see as the hand rubs against that firm globe of man-flesh.  Yeah, I know the rationalization is that the subhuman is still trying to catch Larn in his dying throes, but come on!

At 51:00:  Juliana presents Teegra to Nekron, stating that she intends for the captured woman to be her son's mate.  Nekron spurns the captive and throws a downright hissy, insisting he has no need for a mate or heirs.  This isn't erotic, mind you.  But if the writers and directors didn't expect me to see Nekron as a major queen at this point, I don't know what they were thinking.

At 58:27:  The big battle between Nekron and Larn starts about here.  Granted, Nekron first has to paralyze Larn and have his subhumans bring the intruder over to him.  Quite frankly, with that "You interest me" line, I would not have been surprised if the swords they dueled with were made of something a bit softer than iron (though I'm sure they would've been steel-hard).  And the whole battle just strikes me as sensual and intended to be more like foreplay than an actual battle to the death.  Maybe a battle to see who gets to top.  (Though, honestly, I suspect Nekron would secretly throw that fight.)

Beyond those specific points, I just find the whole idea of a movie where a bunch of lithe, nearly-naked men run around in a manner I find somewhat sensual to be somewhat less than innocent.  I mean, sure, Teegra was half-naked the entire film too, and they certainly showed enough booty-shots of her too.  But the whole movie struck me as an opportunity for a gay boy to have a huge drool fest.

Plus the other thing that I'll note is that most of the men in this movie -- including Larn -- did not fit the more stereotypical "manly man" pattern of such movies.  They weren't overly muscled mountains that moved like lesser beings better dive for cover.  They were lithe and moved with a certain animalistic quality to them.  I suppose the style of movement was intentional, since the story is supposed to take place after the last ice age.

Alas, if only Nekron had sent the defeated Larn to his personal chambers instead of the dungeon.