There is no need to know about presidents, wars, numbers or science. Just listen to me and you'll learn.

1982
It’s Sunday, and I feel hungover. Yesterday I went to the Alki Beach Pride celebration in West Seattle with a small group of gay guys — a few of whom I knew well, others not at all — and spent a lovely, late summer afternoon by Elliot Bay floating from cluster to cluster of friends and acquaintances, both old and new, all connected by a complex web of queer communal bonds. One of these guys introduced me to a term…