Viewed from the footpaths of Darlinghurst, homosexuality looks like the most colossal fun. But it's not all Bob Fosse hunks drenched in oceans of Reef Oil, you know. On days other than the Mardi Gras parade, homosexuality can, in fact, be fairly dreary.

Between bigoted bureaucrats, unkind relatives and the possibility that one might be savagely beaten on the way to the shops, homosexuality can be a bit of a bore. And, it just got more annoying. As if 100 years of oppression were not enough, now we're supposed to get married.

The principal theme of Saturday's Mardi Gras parade will be marriage. For the life of me, I can't think why.

At last count, 15 floats will take their cue from a withering institution. A matrimonial spectacular featuring bride with bride and groom with groom will be the centrepiece of the annual Long Mince. Apparently, marriage is now the ne plus ultra of the struggle. This is odd and strikes me as no more critical or apposite to the needs of homosexuals than the right of cyclists to ride a penny-farthing.

"Same-sex marriage is clearly the big issue that our community wants to say something about in this year's parade," organisers said last month.