Funny thing to say about Limbaugh, whose entire career is about building walls between whites and blacks, rich and poor and conservatives and liberals. But Sir Elton said that he, like Limbaugh, opposes gay marriage and instead favors civil unions.
Limbaugh jokes about the gay community, with such gems as:
“When a gay person turns his back on you, it is anything but an insult; it’s an invitation.”
“The difference between Los Angeles and yogurt is that yogurt comes with less fruit.”
“We had gay burglars the other night. They broke in and rearranged the furniture.”
Okay, that’s harmless. Homosexuals are an easy target for comedians because, let’s face it, the shit’s just funny.
Yet Limbaugh takes it further, and once claimed that if there were a hypothetical gene that determined homosexuality in unborn babies, “How many parents, if they knew before the kid was gonna be born, was gonna be gay, they would take the pregnancy to term?”
So if your future kid was going to be born gay, you recommend an abortion? I’m sure Limbaugh’s friends at National Right to Life would just love that.
Now I’m the first person to stand for First Amendment rights. Insensitive speech is still free speech and anti-gay remarks only pander to Limbaugh’s audience of white, evangelical conservatives who don’t cotton to the fact that gays want equal marriage rights.
I get it that Limbaugh is paid a dumptruck full of money to cater to his base.
But Sir Elton is gayer than “All You Can Drink Mimosa Night” on Fire Island. He’s seen more gay action than the gloryhole in the men’s room of Studio 54. So why perform for Limbaugh?
That $1 million check might be the reason.
Elton John may be a knighted peer of the realm but in the end, it’s all about whoring your talents out to the highest bidder.
And money is the great prime motivator. It turns saints into sinners, celibates into whores and gay rock musicians into puppets for anti-gay zealots.
In the end, both Elton John and Rush Limbaugh are entertainers. They’re all about putting on a show for their respective audiences. Would you begrudge Elton John for doing what he does best – performing – regardless of who hired him?
The biggest complaints are coming from the gay and lesbian community who accuse Elton John of selling out and that he should donate the money to a gay-friendly charity or lobby group. Like this is such a scandal. Why, it’s enough to make Harvey Milk turn over in his gay grave!
It’s like Limbaugh purchased Elton John on a whim, like some decadent Roman Emperor. Limbaugh, the debauched Nero, just wanted to see the little fairy perform for his own perverse amusement, to pull the strings on the sequined-covered clown while his ultra-conservative friends chortled gleefully over their martinis.
I can just see it now:
RUSH: Where’s my jester?! Bringeth me my pink and turquoise-clothed motley harlequin, my faggy troubadour to perform for me and my child bride!
(Elton John minces towards a piano, curtseys and begins the first few notes of “Rocket Man,” when Limbaugh stops him.)
RUSH: Cease that cacophonous racket! Have you no words to say to me and my lovely Aryan wife?
ELTON: What? The plastic mannequin that looks like a less mannish Anne Coulter?
RUSH: This is my trophy wife, sir! She’s the ideal portrait of American beauty, the woman who completes me.
ELTON: I’m sure both of you are deeply in love, sir.
(Rudy Giuliani starts snickering.)
RUSH: Put a sock in it, Giuliani! How many trophy wives are you on now? Seven?
(James Carville and Mary Matalin begin deep tongue-kissing by the bar.)
RUSH: Get a room, you two! Talk about a fucked up marriage! I can’t believe that you two mutants are still together. To think you two spawned children into the world!
ELTON: Shall I sing "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" for you and your daughter...I mean, your wife?
RUSH: That song blows more than you! Sir Elton, before I met you I thought the only British queen lived in Buckingham Palace.
ELTON: A very clever jape, sir.
RUSH: Silence! Now then, Sir Elton! You have been summoned to El Rushbo’s court to amuse me with your fruity songs as my beautiful Stepford wife rubs coconut oil on my flabby belly and I imbibe from this goblet containing a mixture of vodka and Michelle Malkin’s menstrual blood.
ELTON: Yes, my liege!
RUSH: Sing “Crocodile Rock”, cocksucker!
(Elton John begins entertaining as the wedding guests dance furiously before a giant golden statue of Ronald Reagan. Fred Thompson begins breakdancing, while Karl Rove and Sean Hannity chug beers through a funnel.)
RUSH: Yes! Play louder, you bespectacled catamite! Break into a rendition of “Tiny Dancer” with Clarence Thomas!
(Elton continues playing at a frenzied pace, but cannot keep up with the requests. He tires and removes his swollen hands from the blood-stained keyboard and stares at Limbaugh pathetically.)
ELTON: Please, sir! No more!
(Limbaugh removes a fat cigar from his mouth and flashes a sinister grin. He then grinds the cigar into Elton’s quivering hands. The multiple Grammy winning artist shrieks in pain and doubles over.)
RUSH: Ha! You call yourself a man? George Will could take more physical abuse without wincing and he’s a total pussy!
ELTON: You monster!
RUSH: Now you’re getting it, Peaches! Just wait and see what I have in store for you. For the next hour you’re going to perform all Anita Bryant songs dressed only in a leather codpiece and stiletto heels. For an encore, I’m going to have Rachel Maddow crying in the corner with her shirt off. Then I’m going to drink her lesbian tears through a Krazy Straw!
(Elton John begins sobbing uncontrollably. Limbaugh stands over him and drops $100 bills over the singer’s head. Elton watches the money flutter earthward and ceases weeping.)
ELTON: $1 million, right?
RUSH: That’s right, faggot!
(Elton thinks for a moment while the wedding guests await silently with anticipation.)
ELTON: Where’s this leather codpiece you want me to put on again?