Last night, I saw the final performance of A Little Dog Laughed, a Broadway play about a male movie star who is considering coming out of the closet---until he's pushed back in by his lesbian agent.
Mostly it was funny. It was very, very funny, and a scathing indictment of both Hollywood and the ways we participate in our own covering.
We do this to ourselves, the play says. We do this to ourselves because it's easier to go along with the system and get what the system values than it is to fight for our own selves and our own happiness. The perceived happiness of the multitudes is so much more powerful---who are we to say that honesty makes us happy, when all around us, heads are turned by misdirection and fame?
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