Sigh.
And then Adam had to go and ruin it. I mean, you’d think living in a world infested with Lovecraftian monsters would be … well, you know … interesting. In real life, we don’t beat them off with brooms; we just suck them in alleys. Elect them. I mean, elect them.
Damn it. Never mind.
You never understand.
Never!
God, why can’t you fucking understand!
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Huber, Adam. “Sink or Swim”. Bug Martini. 1 April 2015.
It’s one of those things I knew about, sort of. At least, you know, that it was happening. I didn’t really pay attention because, well, right.
Sean Pagoda, however, has given me reason to reconsider.
What sets quidditch apart from other sports is its two-minimum gender rule, established by the International Quidditch Association. The rule states that “each team must have at least two players in play who identify with a different gender than at least two other players. The gender that a player identifies with is considered to be that player’s gender.”
Look, to the one, it’s great to consider that an international athletic association is LGBTQ-aware.
To the other, though? Well, right. There’s an International Quiddich Association.
Yes, I was aware that there were adults running around on broomsticks, playing “Harry Potter”. And, yes, I really, really tried to not care. You know, whatever. But when quidditch is raised as a sociopolitical example, well, yes, at some point the inevitable question arises: “Wh-wha-what? Seriously? Quidditch?”
Sigh.
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Pagoda, Sean. “Brooms Up”. The Huffington Post. 7 July 2014.
This Is 