Here's what Stephen Marche says in Esquire: "Vampires have overwhelmed pop culture because young straight women want to have sex with gay men. Not all young straight women, of course, but many, if not most, of them." Well, who can argue with such an authoritative statement? It's like arguing with the friend who refuses to believe everyone isn't a leetle bit gay and just smiles smugly at your denial if and when you try to argue.

Yes, True Blood, with its "God Hates Fangs" credit sequence, makes an explicit, topical, X-Men-style parallel. I can buy that our alleged collective love of the undead indicates a new acceptance of the Other. Sure, sounds good! And I can even get behind vampire-as-collective-unease-in-rough-times, especially as these plots tend to involve understanding and taming the unknown forces. But here's where he loses me:

Edward, the romantic hero of the Twilight series, is a sweet, screwed-up high school kid, and at the beginning of his relationship with Bella, she is attracted to him because he is strange, beautiful, and seemingly repulsed by her. This exact scenario happened several times in my high school between straight girls and gay guys who either hadn't figured out they were gay or were still in the closet. Twilight's fantasy is that the gorgeous gay guy can be your boyfriend, and for the slightly awkward teenage girls who consume the books and movies, that's the clincher. Vampire fiction for young women is the equivalent of lesbian porn for men: Both create an atmosphere of sexual abandon that is nonthreatening. That's what everybody wants, isn't it? Sex that's dangerous and safe at the same time, risky but comfortable, gooey and violent but also traditional and loving. In the bedroom, we want to have one foot in the twenty-first century and another in the nineteenth.

Hello, scarecrow, how about some fire? I've written enough dubious college papers to know the technique of slipping a weird assertion between some inarguable ones. Sure, vampires deal with off-limits sex, This same argument has been made, with more credence, to suggest the perils of the sexual world vis a vis virginity. Sex is scary. But Twilight doesn't work because Edward's asexual - it works because he wants her so much, but loves her too much to endanger her. More to the point: liking gay boys? Not really a "thing." Sure, some people do. People also have crushes on straight guys. And hormones are raging and friendships are close and all kinds of heartbreaking things go down.

And so vampires have appeared to help America process its newfound acceptance of what so many once thought strange or abnormal. Adam and Steve who live on your corner with their adorable little son and run a bakery? The transgendered man who gave birth to a healthy baby? The teenage girl who wishes that all boys could be vampires? All part of the luscious and terrifying magic of today's sexual revolution.

Well, sure, but how is this the same as "young straight women want to have sex with gay men?" Because you can't just say that and then produce a couple of teens with unrequited crushes. Talk about reductive, Mister. For someone writing about acceptance, you're doing a lot of generalizing. In fact, I begin to worry that a lot of the blame for this bizarre theory rests with Ann Rice, who seems to have an obsession with both Nosferatu and, if the bit of A.N. Roquelaure I was forced to read is any indication, lusting after gay princes. But here's one generalization I do feel comfortable making: Ann Rice doesn't really speak for all of us. And yes, I see that smug, knowing smile.

What's Really Going on With All These Vampires? [Esquire]

Rogers does pay homage to the fag hags of the past. He writes,

The classic fag hags were theatrical, brassy, unconventional; they were the Liza Minnellis, Bette Midlers and Liz Taylors of the world. They drifted toward gay culture because they perceived themselves as outsiders, and bonded with gay men over shared feelings of social rejection, and love of camp, and appreciation of John Waters movies. And hey, they both liked men. A lot.

He also says that "for most of gay history," fag hags and gay men had "a mutually fulfilling relationship: Men got the appearance of heterosexual legitimacy and intimacy free of sexual tension; women got a touch of glamour and performance and exoticism." Now that gay men are less in need of "heterosexual legitimacy" — Rogers cites a study that puts the average coming-out age at 13 — straight women have less to offer them. But some still want a "gay boyfriend."

Rogers paints a pretty damning picture of today's post-Will & Grace fag hag, someone who feels that (to quote documentarian Justine Pimlott) "every straight girl should have these accessories: Manohlo Blahnik shoes, and a fag." According to Rogers, such self-absorbed fag hags think of a gay man as a "must-have item," someone to listen to her guy problems and watch as she tries on clothes. No longer misfit women seeking to bond with other outsiders, today's fag hags are "demure, and conventional — with square-jawed boyfriends and glittery sweat pants and seemingly little understanding of gay culture." These women want a gay man to bitch to, Rogers implies, even if they have nothing in common with him.

Part of the complexity of Rogers's piece is the fact that it really deals with two different stereotypes about gay men. The first — gay man as trendy, fashion-forward accessory — comes straight from Sex and the City's Sanford Blatch (whom Rogers calls Carrie's "queeny sidekick"). The second and perhaps more complicated stereotype is that of the gay man as nonsexual, unselfish helpmeet, a nonthreatening man charged with buoying up a woman's ego. The assumption that gay men exist to make straight women feel better about themselves may owe something to Will & Grace (Rogers is not the first to accuse the show of having "neutered gay characters"), but it's also related to how women's gender roles have played out over the past few decades.

The idea that a woman needs a man to tell her she's beautiful and awesome, but without the implied danger of sexual interest, finds expression in film, TV, and in real life. It's linked to the idea that a woman's worth is tied to her looks, but more importantly to the belief that women must be insecure about themselves and must seek approval from outside sources. And this belief is one of the most marginalizing forces women face.

Rogers argues that gay men need fag hags less as they themselves become less marginalized. He writes,

If part of the glue that holds together the fag hag relationship is the gay man's need for refuge from the mean jocks and the judgmental parents, what happens when the jocks and the parents stop caring? As the New York Times recently pointed out, friendships between gay men and straight men are no longer the taboo they once were. Most of the gay men I know (especially those my age) are happily mixing with all combination of sexes and sexualities, and, for my part, I'm as likely to take a straight male friend to a gay bar as a straight woman.

According to Rogers, the time has come for gay men when they no longer need the restrictive term "fag hag" or the restrictive view of gay friendship it implies. Hopefully that time is coming for women too. When women can reject a culture of self-snark and body-hate, and concentrate on pleasing themselves rather than other people, they can seek out friendships based on mutual respect and just plain liking people, rather than on a self-serving need for validation. Rogers closes his piece thus:

So what happens to those fabulous gay-loving straight women of yore, who close down the gay bars at 4 a.m., and pump their fists at the pride march, and stand in long lines for tickets to "Xanadu: The Musical"? They might not be as key to some young gay men's coming of age as they once were. For others, they'll be as crucial as ever — but hopefully they'll be calling themselves something more accurate. Like "friend."

There may have been a time when women and gay men needed each other as bulwarks against outside cruelty. But as both groups fight back against marginalization, their relationships may become not about needing a "gay boyfriend" or a "fag hag" but about wanting a friend.

Ladies: I'm Not Your Gay Boyfriend [Salon]

[Los Angeles, CA; December 21. Image via X17.]