Surely there is a tad too much guilt by association tied up in modern defenders of manhood. (Now Jack Donovan [q.v.] is equating feminism with Dockers.) But there’s an alternative. If you like manly men in sincere and ironic ways but don’t feel the need to defend war, violence, or carnivory as part of the package, why not enlist Jockohomo as curator?
Né James Alex, this mysterious and, it is rumoured, sometimes troublesome American bodybuilder/art major may or may not live in Montreal. Details, details: He’s one of the original homosexualist bloggeurs and is best understood as a constellation of online identities. (Again: Bodybuilder/art major.) He’ll find you all sorts of contemporary art you didn’t know you needed to see, especially on his old blog, but also manages to “reblog” photographs of terribly strong, broad-shouldered lads taking up a lot of space, an essential manly attribute (q.v.).
I fault him for idolizing “MMA” fighters (at weigh-in, bearded, horned up, modelling Fred Perry), a trap that popular male culture falls into all too readily. But he also finds all the best amateur wrestlers (by Josh McNey or Collier Schorr), boxers, tattoo colour experiments (allegedly), chihuahua facial expressions (allegedly), Marine recruiters, juvie detainees, and fantasy alter egos of superheroes.
What’s the best part? Some of these photos are sideways. Rotate 90° and one man’s erotica becomes another man’s art.
Jockohomo’s curation is a pleasing antidote to 98-pound-weakling Butt readers who think by avoiding the gym and folding in on themselves they are enacting some kind of commentary on commodity gay culture. They’re just scrawny and unkempt. (Hey, need a hand hauling that bag of basmati rice up your stairs?)
On another day, let’s discuss how an emphasis on strength and big shoulders leaves behind a lot of men with disabilities. Surely a necessary ingredient is presence, and being able to do 10 × 45# reps of dumbbell flyes determines little. I could tell you the tale of the head of security at an American sports arena who wheels up in a power chair, levels a cold stare, and makes half-drunk troublemakers with bloodied noses lose their shit.
Nonetheless, the Jockohomo æsthetic is a pleasing one. Follow his lead.
(See also: Curated Guys with iPhones. I take credit for that.)