Fuck.You.
Hows this for an appaling piece of 'journalism' and 'science'?
Radar, March/April 2007
A piece considers the moral and political implications of gay babies. Fetal screening technology may soon let parents detect homosexuality, and scientists predict that within a decade parents will have the option of applying a hormone patch to set a gay fetus straight. But until such a "remedy" exists, pro-life conservatives and gay rights opponents "will have to ask themselves whether the public shame of having a gay child outweighs the private sin of terminating a pregnancy."
Fuck you.
I earnestly hope you die, screaming, in a slow, hot fire sustained and fed by the coals of your own ignorance, guilt, and hate. I hope your Christian faith is right, and there is a hell, and that the look of loathing on St. Peter's face as he kicks your ass straight to it for your bigotry, hatred, and abominable 'ethics' sears into your retinas and torments you more than all the hosts of Hell ever could.
Fuck you.
I'm not a scientific freak. There is not a 'remedy' for me. There should not be any shame in being me, in being my parent, in being my friend or lover or boss or aquaintince.
Fuck you with all the anger and hurt I can muster. I hope I spontaniously become a mutant so I can make you suffer with the sheer power of my mind right now.
Do I sometimes, deeply and honestly and painfully wish, that I were a little more straight? Yes, yes I do. To live in a world where I have the same rights, the same ability for privilaged assumption you have? Damn skippy I do. To not have to vaguely worry about being assaulted for my preference? To be able to have a relationship with my family that isn't built half on lies about it? To be able to bring home a lover or a SO and not have to claim they're 'just a friend'? Fuck yeah.
But I'm not. And even on the worst days, the days it hurts the most that my preference has prevented me from pursuing what could have been otherwise successful, loving and happy relationships, I'm queer. And okay with that. I don't want your greener grass. I just want you to let my own goddamned grass grow.
Fuck you.
Get out of my life. Get out of my bedroom. Get out of my morals and ethics. I'm not warping your children, I'm not stealing your wives, I'm not forcing anyone into anything, I pay my taxes and give to charity. Stop telling me I'm a freak, a mistake, a thing that can be 'cured'. You going to go after lefthanders next - another group of people who have to live in a world designed entirely against them?
What does it Matter what I do in my bedroom if its between consenting adults? What does it matter if I like women? What the hell does it matter to you if I like kink or vanilla, pain or tantra? We don't emit any special rays people. Someone taking it up the ass isn't going to magically queer up the kid living in the house next door.
Fuck you.
Either hand me the lube or get out of my life and my bedroom.
Radar, March/April 2007
A piece considers the moral and political implications of gay babies. Fetal screening technology may soon let parents detect homosexuality, and scientists predict that within a decade parents will have the option of applying a hormone patch to set a gay fetus straight. But until such a "remedy" exists, pro-life conservatives and gay rights opponents "will have to ask themselves whether the public shame of having a gay child outweighs the private sin of terminating a pregnancy."
Fuck you.
I earnestly hope you die, screaming, in a slow, hot fire sustained and fed by the coals of your own ignorance, guilt, and hate. I hope your Christian faith is right, and there is a hell, and that the look of loathing on St. Peter's face as he kicks your ass straight to it for your bigotry, hatred, and abominable 'ethics' sears into your retinas and torments you more than all the hosts of Hell ever could.
Fuck you.
I'm not a scientific freak. There is not a 'remedy' for me. There should not be any shame in being me, in being my parent, in being my friend or lover or boss or aquaintince.
Fuck you with all the anger and hurt I can muster. I hope I spontaniously become a mutant so I can make you suffer with the sheer power of my mind right now.
Do I sometimes, deeply and honestly and painfully wish, that I were a little more straight? Yes, yes I do. To live in a world where I have the same rights, the same ability for privilaged assumption you have? Damn skippy I do. To not have to vaguely worry about being assaulted for my preference? To be able to have a relationship with my family that isn't built half on lies about it? To be able to bring home a lover or a SO and not have to claim they're 'just a friend'? Fuck yeah.
But I'm not. And even on the worst days, the days it hurts the most that my preference has prevented me from pursuing what could have been otherwise successful, loving and happy relationships, I'm queer. And okay with that. I don't want your greener grass. I just want you to let my own goddamned grass grow.
Fuck you.
Get out of my life. Get out of my bedroom. Get out of my morals and ethics. I'm not warping your children, I'm not stealing your wives, I'm not forcing anyone into anything, I pay my taxes and give to charity. Stop telling me I'm a freak, a mistake, a thing that can be 'cured'. You going to go after lefthanders next - another group of people who have to live in a world designed entirely against them?
What does it Matter what I do in my bedroom if its between consenting adults? What does it matter if I like women? What the hell does it matter to you if I like kink or vanilla, pain or tantra? We don't emit any special rays people. Someone taking it up the ass isn't going to magically queer up the kid living in the house next door.
Fuck you.
Either hand me the lube or get out of my life and my bedroom.