True Blood

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Jacob Clifton: A+ | 1 USERS: B+
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I think where the conversation, about sexual difference, falls apart in its own terms. "Homophobia" doesn't mean fear of sameness anymore than hydrophobia means fear of water. It's a varying mixture of degrees of fear and hate, and the second we start conflating those two emotions we've lost the entire plot. Jason's got neither fear nor hate: he knows at least one thing about himself, and has what I think is a healthy disinterest, for a heterosexual kid, in hot boy-on-boy action, but it's never interfered with his relationship with Lafayette, or Eddie, or the commercialization of his own body. I don't think it signifies, because that's not how Jason defines himself: he's not, like so many guys we can think of, predicated on being not-gay. His fangophobia, such as it is, started from the same place as the fear implicit in homophobia, which is more to do with a physical paranoia of being invaded. Also healthy. I mean, even in his fantasies that scared him so badly, he was the one fucking Liam. Not the other way around. I mean, he's completely neurotic about his sexual identity, but not about what we usually mean when we use that phrase. His sexual identity is fluid, but not in the way we usually mean. His masculinity is predicated on a lot of things that have nothing to do with sex, and a lot of things that have to do with specifically straight sex, but the gay thing just doesn't seem to be an issue. Which is why this comment, a compliment from where he's standing, makes him giggle like a kid. Because he knows it's true.

"Anyway, after she left me and took my kid, I went to a gay bar, hit on a couple of men. Got laughed at, or pitied. Then I saw this one guy. He was even less of a looker than me, and he had beautiful young men all over him. Somebody told me he was a vampire. I guess I just thought: Well, that's for me. After that, it was just a matter of time before I found someone willing to turn me." Jason smiles, getting it: "That's crazy!" Told you it wasn't the straightest of lines; told you it never was. Jason nods and takes a drink: "So, uh, how did it work out for you? With the guys, and everything?" Were you saved, in your salvation? Did it get you out of the house, did it bring you pleasure? Or did you retreat to the cave, paying for prostitutes with your blood, and eventually get you kidnapped and tortured and murdered by the sweetest little boy in Renard Parish? "Well," Eddie says, glancing down at his bound body: "You tell me." Jason's sad for him, finding himself in another predicament, but it doesn't occur to him yet to feel guilty. Somebody else is driving.

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True Blood

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