tv
by vera divine
BROMANCE AND
Brody
Jenner
Ruthlessly patriarchal society? Check! Extramarital best bud/boyfriend?
Check! Unquestioned social consent to cross all intimacy barriers with said best
bud? Check, check, CHECK! Those naughty Ancient Romans sure knew how to
party. Not only did they run around in togas indulging every hedonistic whim, but
they also praised “love” between men as being more heavenly than being with a
woman—and they encouraged Greeks and Spartans of the era to do the same!
Oh, stop judging! You know you would sew more wild oats during one night at the
emperor’s place than you could throughout the entire summer of love! Roman
palaces were simply better equipped than hippie tents to accommodate multiple
four-or-more-gies! I’m just sayin,’ this drag queen can recognize a party when she
reads about one in a history textbook!
Anyway, somewhere between then and now, we’ve managed the blur the
bejeezus out of this concept and drizzle it with equal parts of shame and embar-
rassment. Until recently, American culture had attached an urgent aversion to
the idea of two males sharing anything less than 12 inches of personal space. It’s
as if we’re taught in grade school that proximity to another boy caused atoms
between the two of you to explode! And yet, if you look at early Batman comics,
the caped crusader and his short-shorts-wearing wing-boy seemed to always
defeat their nemeses with their love…for justice, that is. But once the paranoid
’50s rolled around with a cock block view on communists and homosexuals, the
Batcave raves were officially over.
But today, in our ragingly image-driven society where “looking cool” means
riding the cutting edge between gay and straight without falling over, the Bro-
mance phenomenon seems to have found a snug new niche in society’s norms.
The word almost sounds misleading, too. While the modern definition doesn’t
include all those wonderfully dirty things that we wish it did, Bromance is a cute
those sorely needed “bro-jobs” that frat boys are always whining about, huh? The
little portmanteau that refers to the non-sexual brotherly bond that ideally exists
Jenner’s show Bromance isn’t too bad, actually. The Tyra-brand moment-of-truth
between two male best friends. This platonic flavor of man-love has been around
suspense is set to a comfortable low, while the appeal is fueled nicely by the
forever, since way before Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, Brad Pitt and George
contestants’ inherent bitchiness.
Clooney or even Sinatra’s Rat Pack. Prehistoric cave writings have revealed the
The whole point of the show—besides clearing the way for Brody to inhabit the
first bromantic couple to be Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble. But seriously, can
pop-icon throne that formerly seated Ashton Kutcher—is to find little Brody-boy
you imagine the delicious jealousy that the primeval Bettys and Wilmas felt back
a new wingman. He’s apparently not in search of someone to help him “get more
in the volcanic days? Nah, they were probably gettin’ down together with their
chicks,” as Brody feels the need to repeatedly reassure the camera that he’s suf-
generation’s Katy Perry album.
ficiently equipped to do so on his own. His “break-up” with Spencer Pratt is often
So now, here comes a handsome member from the club of the rich and inex-
referenced when expressing how hard it is for a millionaire to find true friendship.
plicably famous, Brody Jenner. This cocky little boy didn’t invent the concept of
Forgive me if my rolling eyes fail to empathize. I guess they’re too wrapped up in
Bromance, but he sure has managed to adopt the concept and make a pretty
real problems. *sigh*
penny off of it. By the looks of him, it’s too bad he’s not better known for donating
The future of genuine male-on-male affection does look to be improving be-
cause of the exposure, however. I’ll have to send Brody a cheap little bottle of wine
in gratitude for inspiring all these straight boys to give in to their natural instincts
to hug and wrestle with each other. But could popular openness between men
ever be free again? Like before the fall of Rome? Something tells me that it’s a no-
go until the “bro of the hour” makes a bold gesture. Perhaps stealing the drunken
kiss from Anderson Cooper that I couldn’t gather the courage to sneak will do the
trick. No? Oh well. Until then, love one another as openly as you wish, not just how
TV execs want you to.
20 RAGE monthly | MARCH 2009
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