Open Threads

Ironically, SF likes to define itself as a literary genre that boldly goes where no other genre has gone before. Still, it has a few malcontents who absolutely lose their collective shit whenever something new threatens to happen.

A specific tripwire that’s guaranteed to get the Grumpy Old Sci-Fi Fans yelling at those damned kids to get off their spaceship is suggesting that some “classic” novels and short stories haven’t aged too well.

But honestly, a lot of the science fiction of that era hasn’t.

Frank Herbert’s Dune, for example.

Dune is brilliant; it’s a majestic triumph of world building, no argument there. But the poisonous snake in Herbert’s masterpiece is Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, a homophobic and malignant stereotype.

It’s an absurd and offensive stereotype. As a character, the Baron stands out like a severed thumb, and contemporary readers definitely wouldn’t put up with it. (Thankfully, Villaneuve’s adaption avoids this problematic issue)

You wouldn’t use a fun house mirror’s reflection for your driver’s license photo because you’d be uncomfortable with that image of yourself. But that’s exactly what happens when someone is stereotyped as the Other.

If you’re on the wrong side of the Holy Status Quo, the people on the other side can interpret your existence however they like. It doesn’t matter if it’s a Lie and you don’t like it.

Furthermore, looking at the bigger picture, perpetuating these hateful myths got people fired, evicted, jailed, and killed.

You couldn’t get away with a hateful and preposterous boogeyman like Baron Harkonnen nowadays, and that’s a good thing. The trope of using homosexuality as an allegory for a decadent lifestyle is a museum relic.

The evidence of civilized behavior is when you see the Other as People. If empathy isn’t there, it’s sociopathy.

The depressing paradox here is Herbert should have known it was a Lie. But he needed the Lie more than he needed his son.

[Herbert] was unhappy when his son came out as gay, and even more upset when Bruce became a part of queer street theatre in the Bay Area. His father believed Bruce had chosen his sexual orientation, and wanted him to renounce it. Bruce died of AIDS in 1993, cared for at the end by an old college friend in San Rafael, California, with support from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, a charitable group of gay performers, protesters, and caregivers.

Herbert’s decision to cast his son from his life was barbaric.

It brought to mind “New Moon Rising”, a classic Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode where Willow tells Buffy a big secret. It’s a humane counterpoint.

Buffy: I wanna hear about you and Oz. You saw him, right?

Willow: I was with him all night.

Buffy: All night? Oh my god. Wait. Last night was a wolf moon, right?

Willow: Yup.

Buffy: Either you’re about to tell me something incredibly kinky, or —

Willow [grinning] : No kink. He didn’t change, Buffy. He said he was gonna find a cure, and he did. In Tibet.

Buffy: Oh my god. I can’t believe it.

[a pause]

Buffy: Okay, I’m all with the woo-hoo here, and you’re not.

Willow: No, there’s “woo” and, and “hoo.” But there’s “uh-oh,” and… “why now?” And… it’s complicated.

Buffy: Why complicated?

Willow [sighs, takes the leap] : It’s complicated… because of Tara.

Buffy [confused] : You mean Tara has a crush on Oz?

Willow: No.

[Buffy finally understands]

Buffy: Oh.

[Willow smiles nervously]

[After a moment, Buffy abruptly stands up and backs away from Willow]

Buffy: Oh. Um… well… that’s great. You know, I mean, I think Tara’s a, a really great girl, Will.

Willow: She is. And… there’s something between us. It-it wasn’t something I was looking for. It’s just powerful. And it’s totally different from what Oz and I have.

Buffy [babbling] : Well, there you go, I mean, you know, you have to — you have to follow your heart, Will. And that’s what’s important, Will.

Willow [beginning to get scared]: Why do you keep saying my name like that?

Buffy [responding with a frozen smile] : Like what, Will?

Willow [panicking] : Are you freaked?

Buffy [shocked] : What? No, Will, d-

[Buffy stops, suddenly realizes what’s at stake in this moment, makes a decision]

Buffy: No.

[Buffy sits next to Willow]

Buffy [firmly] : No, absolutely “no” to that question.

[Willow stares back at Buffy, skeptical but hopeful]

Buffy: I’m glad you told me.

This was the conversation Frank and Bruce Calvin Herbert needed to have but, didn’t because it was easier for Frank Herbert to envision giant sandworms on a desert planet in a make-believe universe than to see his son as a human being.

In spite of the stubborn denialists that don’t believe in the aliens who exist outside their White Heterosexual Christofascist Utopia, multiple variations of Buffy and Willow’s painful but necessary conversation have happened before, are happening right now, and will happen in the future.

Somewhere in the United States, someone is coming out to their parents and someone else is changing their name from “Danny” to “Danielle” and another someone is confessing to their priest they don’t believe in God.

How these conversations go depends if love is strong enough to open up closed minds and overcome old, deep-rooted societal biases.

It’s helpful to think of these perilous conversations as Herbert’s Gom Jabbar; not everyone can pass the test because they can’t think outside the box.

Buffy didn’t reject Willow because she didn’t see her friend as a stereotype. Buffy valued their friendship so much that she was able to leave those preconceptions in the trash where they belonged and move on.

It’s tragic that Frank Herbert was unable to extend grace to his dying son because of his inability to practice what he preached. Unfortunately, it was a bridge too far. As a reflection of our current political situation, Herbert chose to be JD Vance instead of Tim Walz. Herbert boxed himself in.

“How tempting it is to raise high walls and keep our change. Rot here in our own self-satisfied comfort. Enclosures of any kind are a fertile breeding ground for hatred of outsiders, that produces a bitter harvest.”

— Reverend Mother Superior Darwi Odrade

What Did Frank Herbert’s Gay Son Think About Baron Harkonnen?Post + Comments (105)

We all know the basics of the story of Gwen and Tim Walz and the Gay/Straight student alliance at Mankato West High School, but this piece by Lisa Needham at Public Notice is a great reminder of just how terrible things were for gay kids in 1999.

It’s impossible to overstate how far out ahead of his Minnesota Democratic peers Walz was at this time. It was only three years since the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) sailed through Congress with overwhelming bipartisan support. It arose when Hawaii was considering legalizing same-sex marriage and would have been the first state to do so. Congress sprung into action and passed DOMA, a short-lived but brutal law.

First, DOMA said that no state was required to recognize a same-sex marriage from any other state. The Full Faith and Credit Clause of the United States Constitution requires states to recognize marriages from other states, so DOMA had the effect of upending that constitutional protection for same-sex couples. Next, DOMA defined “marriage” as “only a legal union between one man and one woman as husband and wife” and “spouse” as only “a person of the opposite sex who is a husband or a wife.” That definition was designed to ensure that no one in a same-sex marriage, even if it was legal in their state, could access federal benefits, such as Social Security survivorship payments after their spouse died.

Only one member of Minnesota’s congressional delegation, Martin Sabo, who represented Minnesota’s Fifth Congressional District, which includes Minneapolis, voted against DOMA. At the time of the DOMA vote, Minnesota’s Democrats held six of the state’s eight House seats. In the Senate, progressive icon and rural hero Paul Wellstone voted yes on DOMA, a stance that profoundly disappointed LGBTQ Minnesotans. It wouldn’t be until 2001, some two years after Tim Walz started working to smooth the path for LGBTQ kids in Mankato, that Wellstone expressed misgivings about his vote, but even then he didn’t fully endorse same-sex marriage, instead musing that he “still wonder[ed] if I did the right thing.”

In 1997, Minnesota passed its own version of the Defense of Marriage Act, banning same-sex marriage and stating any same-sex marriages from other states would not be legal or recognized.

So this was the landscape in 1999 when Tim Walz told [gay student Jacob] Reitan he would be the faculty adviser for the GSA. It’s a testament to the strength of Walz’s character that this was so important to him that he was willing to take a public role when that was not looked on fondly.

The whole thing is worth a read, but as an elected official, Tim Walz’ support of the LGBTQ community has been long and steadfast.  He was instrumental in the overturn of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell as a Representative, and as Governor, he signed bills outlawing conversion therapy and making Minnesota a trans refuge state.

There’s no doubt that the actions of Tim and Gwen saved lives in Mankato and across Minnesota.  It is life and death out there for LGBTQ kids.

Appreciating the Walz’ CouragePost + Comments (78)