Who am I to call the moral shots, but a knowingly under-read social scientist with a preference for escapist entertainment? The world is a horrid place, where the powerful systematically oppress the powerless in ways that fiction would not dare to imagine. Nor do I want it to, for there is nothing wrong with letting our minds conjure up better realities, where the weak find strength and everyone lives happily ever after. To those who contend "but real life isn't like that", no it's not, you're quite right. If you want real life, then put down that book you're reading and go for a walk instead, because this is fiction. It can be anything we want it to be.
To return momentarily to the aforementioned short film, or in fact a variation thereof: a similar clip prompted much debate a while back, when one of my charges declared "that's f***ing disgusting" in response to the general giggling that had ensued from the revelation of said clip's subject matter. In this variety, we find supposed members (must stopping doing that) of the Roman Catholic clergy engaging in acts we are generally led to believe they don't, other than the more frequent than freak abhorrences the press delight in sharing with us, of course. On this occasion, the ecumenical matter is fecal and, apparently, delicious.
Now, at this point in the discussion, I was more compelled to attend to the pre-vomit saliva welling in my mouth than an explanation of the inappropriateness or danger of their obsession with all things revolting, but they are teenaged boys - relatively immature ones at that. The world so far is a great and wondrous place, filled with surprising invitations to masturbate and imbibe drugs they can name but not identify. Even so, these boys recognised their giggling as a reaction to the discomfort they felt and thankfully the conversation reverted to a more acceptable topic (aka gratuitously violent computer games involving the undead).
Well, we got our five minutes of (local) fame, as did one of our lead actors, whose speed and stealth spared him a gay-bashing on the way home from the theatre one night. As he later pointed out, live on BBC Radio Merseyside, it wasn't as if the show involved 'anal thrusting', which went down a treat, as you can imagine. Nige and I were kicked out of the church worship group, a situation that remained unchanged even after two hours of fervent debate with the vicar (the first nail in the coffin containing my Christianity). He contended that we had a moral obligation to present a Christian perspective on homosexuality. I argued that we had, because there really was no anal thrusting, although we had stepped beyond mere tolerance of 'those different to ourselves'. Back in 1994, Champagne sent the same message that the posters pinned in my high school now declare: "Some people are gay. Get over it.". It also highlighted the dangers of drug abuse, unsafe sex and domestic violence, all in keeping with the preachings of modern Christianity, but that is by-the-by.