When I first saw Noel Black, he was sitting at his messy desk in the newspaper's offices. If I hadn't known it was impossible, I would have thought that there were blades of grass sprouting on his face. As I'd entered, a young homosexual man had been leaving. Noel afforded, "My dad was gay. And so was my mom." "So, it's hereditary?" I asked. "Fuck no, you ignorant shit," he replied, "I'm gay because of this stuff on my face." "You mean it makes you more shy with girls than with men?" "What are you, an idiot? No--it's sperm, and I like having it there!"