It really bores me when people act “stereotypically gay” for the sake of a reaction, though there's is certainly a target audience for it. In 2010, I was at two separate concerts where I encountered male performers wearing their flamboyance more like a chic accessory than an expression of inner-self. The audiences at both shows ate up every kick, twirl, and skip. I, however, wasn’t buying it. I need a little substance with my sashay.

I was on a bill with Brandon Hilton earlier this year. I'd never heard of him. When he arrived at the venue, a posse of four or five high school-age pseudo-eccentrics ran to him for his autograph. Brandon was skinny and frail. He moved around with a brittle put-on air of importance that was most likely a mask for discomfort and insecurity.

Everything I assumed about Brandon Hilton revealed itself to be correct. He changed into cowboy boots. His music was yet another addition to the hook-less homemade electro genre. I whispered to my friend Alana before his performance that I bet one of his songs would have lyrics about how he was feeling “so sexual.” Well I’ll be damned but two songs in…

His stage presence was painful to watch. The tepid sexuality of his dancing did little to cover for his awkward stiffness in front of a crowd. But he looked pretty and people like anything with a 4/4 beat. I lasted five songs before I couldn’t take it anymore and had to jump ship. Plus my boyfriend in St. Pete kept texting me about how he wanted to make out.

When I later researched Brandon Hilton, it all made sense. Mr. Hilton was a “Myspace Celebrity” with a bloated friend’s list and the ego to accompany it. Reading through the text on his page indicated that Brandon Hilton a) thinks he is very important b) takes himself very seriously and c) does indeed think he is famous. Considering all the gay teens and hags from small towns all over the United States commenting on his deliberate photos, it’s no wonder.

In our modern celebrity-obsessed era, all one needs is a digital camera and a laptop with digital music software to begin their own “legacy.” Put these tools in the hands of the wrong narcissist and you get by-the-book, watered-down electro from pretty kids like Hilton who come off as vapid as they do humorless. I got the same vibe from Jeffree Star when I ran into him a few months ago at a club in Orlando. Beneath all the tats and gimmicky clothes, I sensed a super-insecure kid floating through life on hype and attitude. When the short orbit of his plastic star ends, he will be left with little more than bad ink. I’ve seen it a million times.

Brandon Hilton’s “performance” would have been brilliant if it was an inside joke, but I’m certain it wasn’t. Perhaps justice will prevail. With the downfall of Myspace, so comes the downfall of all the Myspace “celebs” like Jeffree Starr and Brandon Hilton. Facebook, I bow to you in gratitude.

Months later, I was unlucky enough to catch a performance by Cincinnati-based hipster outfit Foxy Shazam. While Brandon Hilton’s flamboyance was of the Chris Crocker breed, Foxy Shazam lead singer Eric Sean Nally strived to capture the ghost of Freddie Mercury via Nigel from Spinal Tap. Based on vibes all the dudes in Foxy Shazam are probably pretty cool. Should I end up at a table with them in a bar, I’m sure we’ll all hit it off great. None of this counteracts the fact that their performance made me cringe.

Nally humped the stage, twirled in a way that would rival any of the queens at G-Bar in Tampa, and did “gay” better than many of the actual gay guys I know. The more flamboyant Nally got, the more the crowd ate it up. Three songs in I whispered to my friend, “I bet you this motherfucker is straight.” And then came his ramble about the wife at home.

This leads me to a very disturbing internal conflict. Why did I hate his performance so much? Why was it slightly offensive to me that a straight man was using stereotypically “gay’ mannerisms to woo a crowd? I know some people are going to be pissed that I even suggest gay people act a certain way. I am going to temporarily discard political correctness and discussions about typecasting and stereotyping. I found a hetero man acting gay as a gimmick to appeal to a certain market cheap, mildly offensive, and predictable. It made me feel the same way I felt watching straight people laugh at the stereotypical gayness of Will and Grace, minus the actual gayness.

At the end of the day, it’s all just theater. May I have a refund?

This article appears in Dec 16-22, 2010.