I personally think of queer activism — in my definition, any and all attempts, on any scale, that an individual makes to better the world for LGBTs — as a group effort akin to building a city. If you are building a city, you will want parks and schools. You would not ask a math teacher to plan a playground. You would not ask a construction foreman to coach softball. But the second one enters the so-called “activist” arena, their individual skills, intentions and decisions go the way of the dodo. No sooner will a person announce their desire to try and help than six others will pop up to tell them exactly how they’re doing it wrong.

If I sat back and wrote a list of things I want to accomplish in a given weekend night, they probably read like this: 1) Get drunk. 2.) Get super-stoned. 3.) Dance to something non-remixed (though that’s easier said than done) 4) Ejaculate in a memorable and creative manner and 5) not bite my nails afterwards until I’ve washed my hands.

Last year, after incorrectly theorizing that plaid had reached its apex in the indie-fag community, I attempted to chart the upcoming trends of 2010. Skinny jeans haven’t gone anywhere, and the Deep V continues its reign of terror on this nation’s chests and eye sockets, but I haven’t given up my dream of a better tomorrow. In that spirit, here are my forecasted trends of 2011. Some things we loved will be “out” and some trends you hoped to never see, not even with someone else’s eyes, might be “in.” Some are just my attempts at padding this article. Whether or not they come to pass, I know that Ghandi will smile upon my efforts to be the change I wish to see at The Black Cat.

Four years spent in queer media have taught me a fair amount about privilege, about the ways that my gay life is easier for reasons as basic as the color of my skin and the fact that my gender matches my biology. But the more I try to reconcile these privileges with my desire to create an equal queer world, the more I am left with one question: Can a nontrans, white gay man ever truly leave the comforts of his own identity without having to make frequent and loud apologies for the crimes of his ilk?

Honest question: Do any guys out there rock completely-shaved crotches? If so, can I ask them why? Please tell me in the comments because I think this look is coming back with a vengeance and I’m not completely sure what’s causing it.

Know my favorite winter holiday? January 2nd. It’s when you have to stop worrying about forced cheer and out-of-town traveling and just get back to cold, boring, refreshingly-uncloying normal life. Yup, I’m going to write the least original season article here about how – gasp – I find this time of year to be a big stressful drag. Count it as another grain of sand in the Christmas-weary beach. However, I can proudly say I’ve isolated the absolute worst thing about the holidays: The Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Well, today I’m going to be the guy who writes a lengthy diatribe on a movie I haven’t seen. That movie is Black Swan, Darren Aronofsky’s Oscar-buzzing psychological thriller starring Natalie Portman as a ballerina who is subsumed by her own dark side. That dark side, as I have garnered from the trailer, involves a lot of mirrors and making out with Mila Kunis. I am saving my actual viewing of this movie for Christmas Day, when the Jews of the world rise up and take over the nation’s multiplexes and make their bathrooms smell like the alley behind bad Chinese restaurants. And because I haven’t yet seen Black Swan it’s been fun to consider it not as an actual movie, but as a second-hand piece of contemporary cultural phenomenon.

I have a theory and many of you will disagree with me. Some may not even know what I’m talking about, but bear with me: Vida Metropole, an ultra high-class gym in the heart of DC’s gayborhood, is actually a cult. What looks from the outside like a perfectly normal gay workout facility, with a clean, pleasant lobby and an attached salon, is in fact a brain-washing facility for DC’s gorgeous gay elite.

So apparently Michael thinks Thanksgiving is the best holiday of the year. I personally think Michael should get his head checked. Sure it’s a great time to eat and drink, but for anyone going back home it can also mean a whole year’s worth of family bonding, brawling and back-stabbing packed into one four-day weekend. Factor in flight delays, crying babies and newly-introduced significant others and its a miracle that people put the turkey into the oven and not their own heads. So without any delay I present TNG Zack’s guide to surviving Thanksgiving.

I don’t think there’s been a cultural phenomenon in the gay male world so bizarre, so worth analyzing, and even so fun to write about in recent years as Grindr. The iPhone app that Margaret Cho calls “GPS for cock” straddles a bizarre and tenuous line, as it is primarily used for gay men to find sex (and occasionally relationships, though I’ll believe it when I see it) but still has to confirm to Apple’s rigid guidelines of family-friendliness.