For a couple of days now I’ve had a picture of a lanky naked man attached to my refrigerator by several of those annoying little Make Your Own Poetry magnets that people seem to like to give me. I am so very proud of this man, tall and slim, with shimmering copper and baby blonde highlights capping dark brown hair that has been chemically straightened and swept into his face, sort of like, well—mine, when I come to think of it, and you can’t see any of his private parts because he is sitting in an almost-yoga pose with one leg bent seductively over the other.

(My daughter hasn’t yet asked why there is a naked pretty man on the refrigerator, which is good because I still haven’t figured out what my answer is going to be. If I say it’s just a guy I admire a lot, then she’ll ask why he doesn’t have any clothes on and I’m not sure what I’m going to say. “He’s pretending to be an annoyingly self-absorbed fashion-obsessive clueless Austrian gay man to make people laugh about and recognize their own homophobia,” isn’t going to go down easy, no matter how worldly I think my four-year old is.)

So let’s just say, rather than get into all of that, that I am overeagerly awaiting the release of Brüno, Sacha Baron Cohen’s latest crotch in your face ordeal (movie) coming to your town on July 10. I love the man and have adored his ability to get right up in people’s faces since the Ali G. days (if you don't know about Da Ali G. Show, you should).

While I can't rightfully claim him as my compatriot—only the Brits can—I can say that having him in my universe makes life a lot more enjoyable. And I need more of that these days. Sacha Baron Cohen is the grand inveigler, and I have been captured by him.

I am also proud of him for showing us, Americans that is, who we are, as painful as that may be.

Shocking, crude, incendiary, distasteful, brilliant, searing, offensive—whatever, the guy is hilarious and a more incisive cultural critic than any cultural critic could ever dream of being. But even better, he is just having fun.

His characters send me into spasms of laughter (even when I am not watching him and just driving or sitting at my desk at work), especially this one the movie is based on: a guy claiming to be a reporter from an Austrian television station who interviews unsuspecting people about fashion, entertainment, celebrities and, mostly, everything queer.

You know the shtick by now if you’ve seen Borat. He asks people uncomfortable, stupid, and often perversely off-the-topic questions, baiting them, all the while underscoring their unedited (!) and sometimes shocking prejudices in the process. Some people find his tactics offensive and manipulative, others, like me, don’t mind watching people expose themselves (hence the refrigerator picture) or more accurately, expose their bigotry.

Vas the matter? You are not attracted to me? Is it because I am too fat?

When I interview gay male friends about him, I pretty much get the same response: "the gays that are uncomfortable with him are gays that have issues about their identity." Brüno, like Borat, is a tool to illicit reactions that people would otherwise be able to hide.

In our culture of supposed tolerance, it’s good—not easy, but edifying, even horrifyingly satisfying to my mind—to hear what people are REALLY thinking. Sacha Baron Cohen is a master at demonstrating that, making it absolutely unforgettable, however staged it may seem to some. For me, its a staggering reminder that teaching tolerance has a nearly impossibly long way to go.

In the middle of all of this gay backlash and rights being denied to lesbian and gay men it will be interesting, at the very least, to see what the fallout, if any, will be from Brüno, whose original title clains to have been "Brüno: Delicious Journeys Through America for the Purpose of Making Heterosexual Males Visibly Uncomfortable in the Presence of a Gay Foreigner in a Mesh T-Shirt". (Or was that was just a rumor started by the Hollywood Reporter.) Judging by the noise that Borat created, I imagine it might be loud.

The latest buzz about the movie is that the scene in which Cohen interviews LaToya Jackson, and makes a quick joke about her brother Michael, has been cut to avoid upsetting audiences still reeling from the King of Pop’s sudden death. (Apparently that was also done with some Twin Towers shots that appeared in two movies that were about to be released as 9/11 happened. Strange bit of trivia as I see it. But you can’t offend the adoring public all of the time, can you?)

On another note, I was listening to an NPR broadcast the other day, and a gay man was giving the brief history of gayness in the U.S. At the end of his rather humorous monologue, he talked about the importance of having "straight allies." I don’t know if Cohen would be considered, by this man, as a straight ally, but to my mind that is exactly what he is. Whether audiences see this as just another offensive long joke, a kind of culture crash that they can’t take their eyes off of, or a brilliant comedian who knows how to poke fun at American puritanical self-righteousness and myopia remains to be seen.

As for me, I am so proud, and I might even add, with a sparkle of patriotism, that as horrified as I am at his victim's repsonses to him, I am proud of living in a country that allows me the pleasure of him. I have come to the disquieting conclusion that I can't live in world without Brüno. It just doesn't seem right.

Check him aus!

If you’re interested in the genesis of Brüno, here’s a clip from his earlier days (before he grew his hair out), on his visit to the gayest part of American, Alabama: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnB5vqObkLw />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnB5vqObkLw