Over the weekend I was saddened to learn of the death of Glee’s Cory Monteith. I feel the same way about the TV show Glee as I do about Marilyn Manson: the end-product might be a little tacky, but I’m excited by any phenomenon geared towards youth that successfully gets them not to be conservative – Marilyn Mansion’s music is a good antidote to the fundamentalist Christianity some kids are raised with, and Glee is a big festival of teaching moments about uncloseted queerness and queer-friendliness and acceptance. That is my removed stance on Glee, but to be honest, I was also really into Seasons 1, 2 and 3 of the show. Time and again people have chided me for getting emotionally invested in fictional characters but my stance is that it’d be a waste of time to watch or read anything if I didn’t get emotionally invested, because characters are supposed to feel real, and if something was unsuccessful in that way, I’d like to think I wouldn’t bother to waste time with it. So while watching seasons 1 through 3 of Glee, I got really excited when gay characters got their first gay kiss and when the nerd won her dreamboat boyfriend away from a mean cheerleader, or when that mean cheerleader turned nice, etcetera. And I really liked Finn Hudson, the character Monteith played. He was a popular kid who stood up for gay kids and nerds even though he became unpopular in the process, and he was sweet and loyal to his family and friends. Maybe Monteith, who was over 10 years older than Finn, his fictional shadow, wasn’t Finn, but he put Finn in motion and made me believe in him, and I am going to miss the place in the murky warehouse of my subconscious where there was a living, breathing, open-minded, loyal, silly kid with Cory Monteith’s boyish, sweet and open face.