Our gay fascists are better than your gay fascists

Speaking as a classicist with a reasonably large drop of Greek blood, the green-screen gorefest 300 is bloody good fun. Soulless and ridiculous, it amuses me that some neo-cons would enjoy the prospect of seeing fine upstanding white men slaughtering the heathen proto-muslims in their thousands, while secretly enjoying the gayness of oily topless supermen in tight leather bondage underpants shouting that well known Greek phrase “Hoooo!” (as in “Hoooomosexual!”) at suitably macho moments. Funny that, ‘cos the ancient Greeks had no concept of sexual labels.
Equally incongruous is the occasional reference to Spartans fighting for freedom, the only thing that truly grates, because that tiny city-state in the Peloponnese grew powerful when interlopers enslaved the locals and founded Western Europe’s first truly fascist state, while its Attican neighbour Athens created a flawed and short-lived democracy (which excluded women, slaves and foreigners) that the cartoon-educated hold up as a shining ideal. The brainless, visually beautiful spectacle would have been perfect without the Braveheart bollocks.
Worst bits: Dialogue from the Brian Blessed School Of Shouting (bravo to Bill Green for his brilliant comment: “inspiring speeches straight from the Conan meets William Wallace motivational handbook”)
Best bits: Cruelty to trolls and rhinoscerii.