What First Dates' Fellatio Tells Us About Queer Supremacy

This Christmas episode was insane!

An actual scene on First Dates’ Christmas Special

“Wow!” beamed the waitress, ecstatic as she clapped and hopped from one foot to the other. At her feet, a handsome blonde man feigned oral sex on his date. Feigning is wrong. It suggests pantomime: exaggerated head bobbing for comic effect. But here was physical contact. The blonde ate edible panties from his first date’s crotch, his face brushing up against unchartered genitalia.

This was not a scene from some niche cabaret, nor was it a drunken moment in time on Amsterdam’s Red Light District. This was Channel 4’s Christmas edition of First Dates, a show that - to be fair - does a damn fine job at setting people up but too often ventures into murky woke water that it is ill-equipped to navigate.

I need not inform you that the receiver of oral delights was a man, a fireman, no less. Because if it were a woman, I can’t conceive of a dancing, clapping waitress nor the all-around Christmas cheer the scene produced.

Were it a woman, it is entirely possible the police would have been called, with the couple jailed along with French Fred for indecent exposure. At the very least, you’d expect a heterosexual couple to be ejected from the restaurant. After all, this is a restaurant where most people eat off plates, not crotches.

Fred, the First Dates Host

All of this led me to wonder what it is about homosexuality - or, more likely, queerness - that seems to turn people insane.

Let me set out my stall:

Firstly, despite being fiercely anti-woke, I love watching even the most in-your-face progressive performances on First Dates.

Yes, I find myself screaming at the screen when a trans person tells their date they have a confession. The date pretends they didn’t know - but are not bothered - that their date has the opposite genitalia to those they would like their lovers to believe.

First Dates doesn’t consider the ramifications of non-disclosure, which is, in my mind, akin to sexual assault. But ultimately, there’s something about watching two people - however different they are from me - finding a match.

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Also, I am no prude. Although I am myself devoid of them - and I think most people probably are - I defend the right of others to hold fetishes while also acknowledging that they sometimes point to something darker and that society’s fetishisation of fetishes is dangerous. Under the guise of celebrating diversity, well-meaning society has often made the mistake of allowing men with fetishes into women’s toilets and even sexualising children.

That said, if two people (or more) of age consent to some crazed sexual activity that - I hope - precludes me or anyone else - then fine. I have always been pro gay marriage and pro gay equality. I have many gay friends who can and should shag as many of their fellows as they please.

So - as I lie in bed watching blondie bite the beads below the belt of brunette, I wonder: what is it I object to? It comes to me: it is the double standard and the patronising othering (forgive the woke speak) of homosexuals. Gays fought for decades for two things in particular: equal rights and dignity.

I think of how my gay friends must squirm uncomfortably when such a scene presents itself on TV. These TV men - and their enablers - turn gayness into an overtly sexual performance. They take dignity and equal rights and make it about blow jobs and special rights.

When I told queer campaigner Peter Tatchell that I stopped attending Gay Pride after I saw a man - right beside me - blowing another, he told me this simply doesn’t happen. Anyone in their right mind knows much more than this goes on at Gay Pride; it is celebrated, just as it was (albeit dressed) on First Dates.

Queer campaigner Peter Tatchell

Here’s the even crazier part:

First Dates presented the blonde man - who saw it fit to buy his date (before knowing him) edible underwear - as a shy victim with a stutter. The public fellatio failed to alter this perception in the minds of the reality TV gods. That he was able to mime sex acts on his date on TV is portrayed as a victory over the bullies: a perceived progression from bullied geek to accomplished sex performer.

What of the moustachioed brunette happily receiving these televised pleasures? His sob story was - you’ll love this:

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