Welcome one and all. Whether you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, or a sympathetic het, this fanzine is for you. We are hoping to provide a forum for queer fans (and friends) to discuss, comment, have a laugh, and generally express themselves.

The Happiness Patrol was the brain-child of a male Sydney Doctor Who fan who had just given in to the inevitability of being gay and needed somewhere to vent his frustration about living in a discriminatory society. The Happiness Patrol has grown from that to become something anyone-young or old, unsure or outrageously out-can relate to.

There's no "president", only enthusiastic participants. Sarah and I have chosen to launch this first issue with the help of a few lucky contributors who got their act together before time ran out. We'd like to thank them, and encourage others of you to get writing and express yourselves. This is in the vein of Bog Off!-we have things to say and want to say it loud!

The Happiness Patrol is being launched at Whovention 3: Continuity (Nov 96), so if you're here at the con then have an absolutely fabulous time (see you at one or more of the room parties) and if you're not, boy will you miss out!

So enjoy, and remember that "if you don't like it, you can bog..." um, we mean, you can "Build high for happiness".

I'm short. Big deal!

I don't like cauliflower. Who cares!

I think I'm gay. Now, what's the appropriate response? Is it:

a) You're kidding!

b) That's okay, doesn't bother me.

c) Aaarrgghhhh!

As someone who's currently going through the "am I gay" dilemmma, I'm starting to realise that it's not the end of the world. It's just about discovering who I am, the same as realising that I'll never be a great basketball player, or that I don't really like maths.

In retrospect, it's been a lot like openly admitting that I'm a Doctor Who fan. I used to be embarassed to admit it, because I thought I was the only one. And so I hid it, to avoid being called a nerd or a weirdo. Then I started going to conventions and meetings and Tavern, and I met a lot of people who liked Doctor Who, and even seemed normal!! Nowadays I cheerfully mention Daleks and TARDISes in my everyday conversation, and people have started accepting the fact that I'm a fan, and a proud one at that.

It's not quite as easy acknowledging my sexuality. But it should be. I shouldn't have to put up with Religion lessons telling me I'm abnormal, family and friends who think it's hilarious to make jokes about yellow socks, or any of the million other hassles and grief that I'm currently going through.

The one consolation is that I'm not alone. When I thought that being a sci-fi fan meant I was a misfit, there were people who showed me that sci-fi fans are normal, ordinary people, and that being in fandom meant heaps of fun.

These same people are now helping me see that just because I keep falling in love with women doesn't mean that there's something wrong with me.

I just wish I didn't have to be so secretive about it. If I suddenly discovered that I had a talent for pole-vaulting, or karate, then I'd be out there sharing my discovery with the world. Instead, I'm scared to death that people will suspect that I'm gay, and as I'm typing this, I'm trying to work out which alias to use, and hoping my parents don't decide to come and see what I'm doing.

My name may be fake, but my words aren't. And my point is that sexuality is just another part of who you are. No more, no less. It's not something we should be judged on, it's not something we should be ashamed of.

I hate broccoli. I like English. I'm not quite straight.

And I'm proud of who I am.

Happiness Patrol is a fanzine for Doctor Who fans who are gay, lesbian, transsexual, transvestite, bisexual, dykes trapped in men's bodies, gay men trapped in women's bodies, and their friends. We've gathered here to celebrate all that is camp and fun in Doctor Who and realise why it is that we're fans of it.

It's been proved that gays and lesbians are born with those interests. We can extrapolate this quite easily. Does this mean that we can be born Doctor Who fans? Many things suggest that this could be the case. Instantly knowing, intuitively, that the person sitting next to you on the train across the USA is a Doctor Who fan-and that wasn't because she was grimacing through a Star Trek novel, either.

Instantly knowing that you have something in common with the person across the hall... I've met so many Doctor Who fans purely because, at a SF event, there are many different types of people and asking anyone if they're a Doctor Who fan wouldn't be out of place. This gives me the chance to take the risk of seeing if my assumption was correct. I haven't been wrong yet.

Favourite comments heard around the traps are: "Star Trek fans are overweight with 2.4 children". "Doctor Who fans are gay".

Now for me, this was disconcerting because I happen to be a dyke trapped in a guy's body (well, that's what one of my ex-girlfriends told me). In my life I have fallen for-fairly strongly, I might add-a total of three dykes. I've been attracted to at least 67 dykes.

Why is this so?

I'm supposed to be straight. I'm supposed to be attracted to wimpy women who like wearing perfume, dresses, and letting men do all the work while they stay home and cook. Uh-uh, not me. I like women with strength, stamina, and an unconscious desire to go against convention and wear shorts and singlets. A few muscles look good too, and hairy legs don't bother me.

And where can I go where I'll find women that 1) go against convention, 2) look fairly masculine, 3) interested in the same things I'm interested in, and 4) speak and act in a strong, assertive, intellectual way? At a Doctor Who convention of course.

You may be asking yourself, "Ok, if he thinks he's a dyke trapped in a guy's body, why doesn't he get a sex-change?" Because I've found a straight woman who's everything I wanted. And besides, sex-changes reduce any sexual enjoyment you might have. Guys only have tow really good spots. A sex-change loses one of them. Women have a lot more. I'd rather have been born a woman. I'd never have a sex- change.

Now, why have I brought this up? What happens when you stop being a nerdy Doctor Who fan and start being interested in the fans around you? You form relationships. You have sex. Jerry Doyle, at a Babylon 5 convention in Brisbane, summed it up when he asked the crowd of 200 people, "How many of you met for the first time this weekend and have had sex already?" Several people put their hands up.

Coming out in Doctor Who fandom is a very hard thing to do. But it's much easier than coming out in your job or at home. Coming out as a fully sexual being is very hard as well. Invariably, serious SF fans end up single and alone. Please take the time to come out of your shells in any way you wish and get to know people. It's the most important thing on the planet.

I'm sure I'll see you soon.

Search deep, deep into the recesses of your mind-goodness, not THAT deep you filthy creature... just deep enough to reach that "analytical state of mind", that is, your anal retentive mode. Now you are prepared to endure my "fan mind PROBE".

FACT: Like all minority groups, sci-fi fandom is a reflection of society as a whole, but on a smaller scale. This unfortunately results in the "less acceptable" groups of people becoming the focus and sterotype, as they are part of a minority and therefore don't have the advantage of being able to hide.

WHAT WE'D LIKE TO BELIEVE: How many times have you heard or thought to yourself, that fandom is more accepting than the "real world"? It seems that a lot of fans believe that the development of the negative sterotypes towards sci-fi fandom exposes fans to social predudices early in life, and they are therefore more likely to accept differences amongst their own ranks. This is an idyllic fantasy, and if you think about it, fans aren't really any more accepting of individuality than the next person. It's all just an excuse to justify to the world that it's ok being a fan... ha ha we're better than "you"! Shhhh, don't anyone tell them we're as screwed-up as they are.

In fact the whole concept of social predudices as they exist in society seems to be magnified in the context of fandom... fandom is really just a mini-society... actually, let's attain 100% "anal retentiveness" and call fandom a "microcosm". Sounds impressive huh? In narrowing the spectrum of individuals, there is a highlighting of those who are "different".

Much to the disgust of some fans, the most prevalant type of individual in a group will become dominant in this microcosm, and will undoubtedly outcast anyone who challenges their way of thinking/living. The unfortunate thing is, that unlike in society as a whole where there are likely to be many outcasts who are outcast for the same reasons (so they can band together), in minority groups where the numbers aren't as high, some people will be alone in their isolation-an outcast as a fan and an outcast from fandom.

CONCLUSION: Happiness depends on whether you're lucky enough to be different in an unoriginal way.

In Sydney fandom the fashionable difference is homosexuality. Though more recently, as the majority of gay fans are geting older, a new wave of fans are flooding in... younger fans... so is our dominance being threatened? Do we care? I think the "older" fans have now moved to the next level-organisational fandom-leaving the actual fannish activities (ie 24hr Doctor Who watching) to the youngsters. As for feeling as though the homosexual safety zone is threatened, well, the new wave just aren't old enough to realise... Male? Doctor Who fan? Hmmmmm...

SOLUTION: Representatives from Doctor Who fandom in all the states should publish a guide- "The social classes of Gallifreyan Australia". Each representative should list their members according to category-sad fan/rambling idiot/socially retarded/lacking personal hygene/fanzine editors/gay/...) and then we'll organise a mass migration between the states, moving all the compatable people together (I baggs that all the gay fans come to Sydney). If we do a thorough job about it then each group would find it pretty difficult to outcast anyone specifically, and we will all live happily ever after-oh Brave New World!

FOLLOW-UP: Now all we have to do is convince Neil Hogan to incorporate this fabulous strategy into his Grand Plan of affiliation. I'm sure he'll have no problem using a whole page in Data Extract as a "Presidential Address", to launch this proposition-and I'm positive that the DE readership are all sitting on the edge of their seats waiting for that one!

The world of science fiction is a funny thing. It is incredibly unique, embracing a variety of styles unlike any other kind of writing or television. Fans themselves tend to run the gamut of extremes, and are well aware of this themselves. They are also well aware of the way non-sci-fi types perceive them.

So it's strange that people who are sci-fi fans in their own way should feel that Doctor Who fans are weird. I've found that of all the things that I am, "Whovian" is the one that my friends seem to have the most trouble dealing with. Now my friends aren't too bad. They love The X-Files. Some of them are trekkies. My mother is really excited about seeing ID4. But all of them would crawl naked over broken glass before even entertaining the thought of watching a Doctor Who video.

Perhaps it makes them feel better about being treated as odd if they can believe there is someone weirder than they are. So these attitudes start happening, where we have degrees of cool. Doctor Who seems to be at the bottom of the scale as far as many of people are concerned. They feel safer watching a show everyone else watches, they don't want to be in a minority. After spending considerable time pondering this, I concluded that the reason for this silly discrimination is that the world of sci-fi fandom is really just a microcosm of society as a whole, and left it at that.

Then one day, while flicking through a copy of the Sydney Star Observer, I came across a quote from a British sci-fi author who claimed that attending science fiction conventions is like attending gay pride marches. His reasons: you can take public delight in a source of pleasure that is often despised or ridiculed, you can be with people who feel the same way, and you can wear silly clothes if you so desire.

While the above quote may apply to all kinds of sci-fi fans, I feel it relates particularly to Whovians and Trekkies (though I admit our grip on reality is slightly more secure). It made me realise the extent of the similarities between being a dyke and being a Whovian.

1. Some of your friends won't really want to know why you are the way you are. If you tell them, they're suspicious about your reasons for doing so. They will immediately presume you are some kind of sad fanatic, and that you will attempt to convert them in some way. Others will comfort themselves with the belief that it's just a phase you're going through. Remember to suss them out quite a lot before telling them, and ensure you have the right kind of atmosphere before you start. Be prepared for the usual reaction: smile, nod, laugh nervously and then, "Oh look, there's my bus".

2. Alternatively, there will also be people (usually those who are already your close friends) who will insist on knowing all about it, and will demand to know how long you've been this way. For some reason they will perceive you as a kind of expert and will seek your opinion when issues are in the news. Some of them will even complain about not knowing and will ask why you didn't tell them earlier. Strangely, they will also be adamant that it doesn't actually matter anyway.

3. There is a strong personal commitment on your part. Don't go public until you are certain of yourself. People will laugh at you and treat you differently. You will become the butt of frequent jokes and name-calling (lezzo, faggot, anorak). Cultivate a strong sense of humour before telling anyone. When things eventually settle down, you will find yourself with a second group of friends who are still in the closet (see point 5).

4. Whovianism/homosexuality both have a lifestyle of their own. You get drawn into it so much, that suddenly one day you realise what an enormous part of your life it is. You find yourself reading, writing and talking about it quite a lot, and soon find that all your best friends are just like you. Much like religion, in this respect. People feel very strongly about this sort of thing and will seek opportunities to question you and force you to challenge yourself, be it your feelings or your state of mind, or their perception that you are somehow challenging them. Under no circumstances (but especially at parties) should you ever allow yourself to be drawn into an argument on either subject. You usually won't win, and sometimes people get unduly aggressive.

5. There are a lot of people who have not gone public with their feelings. For every out Doctor Who fan, there are probably at least half a dozen more in the closet. For example, current estimates say that at least 10% of the population, when pressed, will admit to enjoying Doctor Who, but don't identify as Doctor Who fans. You will meet many of these people when you come out. They will see you as a fountain of wisdom on the matter, and you will find yourself frequently being asked for advice. Sometimes they'll just want someone to talk to. They will also want to borrow your books and videos. Make sure you get them back.

The game is this. Take a TV show. Any one will do. And pick the character you'd most like to be the same sexuality as you. (Straights need not play for the simple reason that most characters out there are straight, but be welcome to stretch your imagination a bit and play with the idea that some may be gay, or even bisexual, or straight and open to experimentation...) All of a sudden, those winks between Kira and Dax have new meaning, or Ace and Shou Yuing's youthful hi-jinks, or Garak and Dr Bashir... and this is the basis for slash fiction.

I was going to write about an activity that we engage in all the time when watching TV or movies. Something that popped up in my head while watching the first and second episodes of season two of Star Trek: Voyager (well, many times before that, but it hadn't made itself so urgently felt before) and that's the way we sexualise the relationships in a show that is so fucking coy about sex!

Episode one, called "the 37s", I think, deals with our intrepid crew landing the Voyager on a planet and finding a bunch of frozen abductees (as Mulder would call them). The bunch include Amelia Earhart, the aviator who disappeared in 1937 near New Guinea. Well, the looks between her and Capt Janeway were amazing! It was as if Janeway joined Star Fleet because she was in love with this woman!

I was going to write only about "queering" straight TV, but this is more important.

***

Some months ago I was at a dinner party with some close friends. One of them said something that ended up really disturbing me. I was too sloshed at the time (as was everyone else) to say something but mumble a polite response. Who wants to fight over identity politics when you're amongst friends? But, it has kept at me, festering and making me feel quite angry.

Context: there were six of us-three women, three men, five gay. The odd one out in the sexuality stakes was the one who made the comment: they were pleased to have had a recent holiday amongst heterosexuals. They needed a break from people going on and on and on about ABBA, disco, drag, queer politics, etc.

Fair comment. At times that ceaseless talk on those topics can be demanding. As a dyke, I find it a bit trying at times to be trapped in a room full of people (gay and straight) gabbing about the sexual attractiveness of men.

But-

What has niggled at me was that this is a straight world. All a straight person has to do to escape gay talk (should they be in the unusual situation of ever being trapped amongst too many gays) is turn on the TV or radio, look at a mainstream paper or magazine, go to their work or place of study, or even just walk down an average street and go into a pub (though not in some suburbs, of course, like Darlinghurst, Erskineville, Newtown or Leichhardt in Sydney). For a gay person, it's different. We have to seek out our own to talk about things that matter to us. I still find it odd to be able to sit in a pub with a group of friends and watch attractive women walk past. It's odd because I have never, until recently, been able to pander to my natural predilection.

We're human, and like any human we have this drive to seek out those who have things in common. It's a simple communication thing. It's easier to talk to people when you have terms of reference in common. We're all Doctor Who fans, and though some of us have a problem with that label, we still all gravitate towards people who share our love of that series. A fair proportion of us also ended up being gay, and it's natural that we constantly go on about that other thing we have in common.

Work anecdote: One of my colleagues got married in a quiet civil service at about the same time as Mel and I signed the contract for our house-it's the closest thing to legal togetherness as we'll get unless the law changes. Other work colleagues know that, but who do you think got the cake and special morning tea?

Another anecdote: I read as widely as possible, and like to read the weekend papers for their arts pages and try to keep up with their wacky headlines. Besides, I like the feeling of getting angry at stupid things. Like sex, it lets me know that I am indeed still alive. Anyway, something that keeps pulling me up and giving me that whack-in-the-face feeling is the number of times I've recently read things like the following: Article on female supermodels, accentuating their sexual allure, with comment; "You can tell this was written by a man." Oh yeah? kathryn dawn lang could've written some of those lines about Cindy Crawford. It really is a big (and wrong) assumption to claim that all men are sexually interested in women, and all women are attracted to men. And yet it persists, even in recent academic work.

Another anecdote. During the Olympic Games in Atlanta there were comments about athletes' partners being there to help cheer them on and congratulate them when they won a medal... but only if they were straight. The gay ones remained mysteriously single and alone.

But, you all know that. They are just examples of how straight the world is.

***

Queering straight TV/film/whatever annoys the hell out of even the most tolerant straights. I am imagining significant looks between two cute female leads, but so what. When you live in a world that has popular culture soaked in a puritan sexuality, and sex that has a result in the old (some say natural, I say prevalent) boybeing-meets-girlbeing and has babybeing formula, it's only natural to want to subvert that dominant paradigm when reality is different. As someone quoted in Alexander Doty's It's All Perfectly Queer (1993) says, "We're so starved, we go see anything because something is better than nothing." Queering straight culture-seeing two guys or two girls' look at each other in that way-is a result of that starvation.

But, hey, haven't I got it okay? I mean, there's been a huge number of TV shows and movies with gay characters in it recently, I live in a city where I can buy a home with my girl, and party at three major gay and lesbian events each year.

If it does sound like a big inconsequential whinge, then you must be straight and therefore not able to notice (or really care) about the discrimination that does exist. I live in a city where the major daily newspaper regularly slags of gays at every opportunity. They even blamed gays for the famous death of a teenager last year. She took ecstasy and died. Gays hold the most successful dance parties, ecstasy is taken by some gays, so therefore gays "led the way" to her death (according to Sydney's Daily Telegraph).

Yeah, this is a whinge, but it's a valid whinge. I enjoy queering the TV shows and movies that I watch for two reasons. One, it's fun, and two, it's a matter of staying sane. I need to talk queer-talk, I need to queer-up the straight world in which I live because it ain't queer enough.

In the words of the chips ad that stars "Elaine" from Seinfeld, "Stuff 'em!" if anyone says that queering the straight is wrong.