Author's Note: This is an older essay, originally published online in 2004 through "Lust Magazine." a long defunct e-zine. It was geared toward a Church of Satan audience, but the majority of it, in my opinion, still holds up as a valid description of the mutually unhealthy relationship that many homosexual males maintain with heterosexual females. It is still my general opinion that so-called "faghags" (this does not include all potential female friends) have a toxic and ultimately emasculating effect on homosexual males. They tend to encourage behaviors and interests that need not be encouraged.

I am re-posting this essay here at the request of a reader.

“Psychic vampires are individuals who drain others of their psychic energy…They fill no useful purpose in our lives, and are neither love objects nor true friends. Yet we feel responsible to psychic vampires without knowing why.”

- Anton Szandor LaVey, The Satanic Bible

Few common types are more consistently worthy of the title ‘psychic vampire’ than the average faghag. A faghag is not simply a woman who counts homosexual men among her friends—no, a great disservice would be done to emotionally stable, secure women of significant value everywhere by suggesting such a broad definition. Some women are certainly worthwhile companions, undeserving of such insults. You know who you are, and you know what makes you different from them.

A faghag is a creature who preys on the homosexual man, a slithering asexual succubus who stalks him and ingratiates herself to him by offering favors, a little trite banter, a generous slathering of fervent compliments, and nearly maternal (though never judgmental) expressions of devotion. The inexperienced or somewhat insecure homosexual is at first pleased to have a ready companion with an eager (if prurient) ear for all of his latest exploits, which he retells theatrically with great delight. Titillated, she hungers for more, and begins to tag along to bars with him. She watches his drinks, serves as a go between. She’s up on all of the latest homo music and television shows, has seen all the best campy movies—she can probably recite punch lines on cue, and ferociously defends every politically correct homo cause at every opportunity. She treks along at pride parades and takes care of him when he drinks too much, or comforts him when a boy breaks his heart. In their little world, she becomes a personal assistant, trusted confidante and adoring fan all rolled into one--while he plays the celebrity.

Something’s got to give. The balance factor is out of whack; she gives selflessly while he takes selfishly. He doesn’t respect her—how could he? But he grows accustomed to the fawning care she provides, the conveniences she offers; he becomes addicted to the opiate of her applause. He begins to feel compassion for her, knowing that she cares deeply for him, sensing that she is some way emotionally fragile. He feels indebted to her for all of the favors and the constant support she has provided. He offers her some attention, some platonic affection. He makes some small gesture of kindness. Her love-starved eyes roll back in her head, as she finally tastes what she needs to survive.

The faghag’s hunger for affection is insatiable. Once she digs her teeth into a homo, she will require ever increasing amounts of attention and appreciation. She is fundamentally empty and ego-impoverished. She is so utterly lacking in self-confidence, self-appreciation and self-determination that she evaluates herself solely based on her victim’s interest in her and his perceived dependence on her. A matron without a child, she desperately needs to be needed. When her emotional needs are not catered to, when her phone calls are not returned, or (gasp!) when her victim becomes involved with a sexual partner—she pouts, tantrums, or makes a pest of herself. She does not take a hint well. She will not be ignored! After all, her social life comes to a grinding halt the moment her victim disappears. She can’t very well hang out at homo bars by herself, and she is so immersed in homo culture that straight people quickly find her quite tiresome. Tantrums, nagging, and guilt trips increase in frequency and intensity.

Suddenly, it finally dawns on the homosexual: A faghag is a girlfriend who doesn’t put out.

(Of course, he knows that she likely would happily put out – he just doesn’t happen to have the slightest sexual interest in her.)

An intelligent homosexual will come to the realization that he is putting up with the kind of hassle that straight men routinely put up with, yet is reaping far too few rewards for his trouble. At this point, it is essential that he cut her off—even harshly. No door can be left open for reconciliation, because it is in her nature to serve and she will go to embarrassing lengths to get back in his good graces and begin her blood sucking cycle anew.

Certainly, there are homos that always have a hag in tow. These are the mouthy, flaming, insecure types that need the constant ego reinforcement that only a truly desperate faghag can deliver, so in truth the relationship becomes somewhat more symbiotic than parasitic. These twits also thrive on drama, and a stifling relationship based on pointless obligation and resentment is a reliable drama-yielding machine. I’ve noticed there seems to be something of a rule of thumb to apply to these unlikely duos:

'The fatter the hag, the lamer the fag'

You can bet that a loud, tacky, scrawny little queen bedecked in freedom rings and rainbow flags is going to have a faghag that looks like Jabba the Hut in a sundress, whereas the tonier, more urbane homosexual will drag a hag who can squeeze herself into the latest fashions. One could also make an interesting case by suggesting that homosexuals seek out their physical demonics in hags.

Ultimately, the emotionally mature homosexual has little use for these psychic parasites. The faghag provides a service (ego-augmentation) of which he should not be in dire need. While she can be easily manipulated in the short term (a faghag boss can be a windfall for a homo who wants special privileges at work), he recognizes the potentially oppressive burden that lies ahead and avoids allowing her fangs to gain adequate purchase. Fortunately, she likely won’t find him a particularly satisfying target – as he likely avoids the pop culture mania that she expects him to embrace. The faghag finds her impressive commitment to all things stereotypically homo only makes her tiresome, and with a barely perceptible pout, she slinks off to find someone ‘more fun’ to drain.

Jack Malebranche
Copyright March XXXIX A.S./2004 C.E.