The Vintage & Handmade Market “I don't know of any society that has embraced sodomy and survived.” -Pat Robertson
Day 1 (Monday, Aug. 27, 2007): I noticed it the moment I awoke: this peculiar feeling that somehow the very fabric of our existence had been altered in some terrible, irreversible manner.
I dragged myself out of bed, walked to the front room, looked out the window, and couldn't believe what I saw: The sky was black and orange, emergency vehicles whizzed by and by, a dozen or so stalks of smoke and flame billowed from upturned automobiles, and a dog was trotting down the street with a charred human leg between his foaming jaws.
I retrieved the newspaper and read the headline: “Supreme Court Decision Allows Gays to Marry: Very Fabric of Society Torn” (Aug. 27, 2007).
Wow, I thought. The conservatives were right after all.
I remember when it all began-back in July of 2003, when the Supreme Court overturned an archaic Texas sodomy law, thus making it legal for homosexuals to have sex. Naturally, that decision enraged and terrified conservatives. They believed that this sodomy decision was the first step toward allowing gays to legally marry, and that that would be the end of society as we knew it.
“This is one giant leap down the slippery slope to Armageddon!” wrote columnist Harry Hardwick.
“This decision will have terrible consequences for our nation,” said Scott Lively, director of Pro Family Law Center.
“If we allow homosexuals to marry,” argued Sandy Rios, president of Families for the Protection of Marriage, “it will result in the disintegration of the fabric of marital sanctity. It will destroy the very fabric of society.”
The list goes on.
I remember thinking, Wow, what a bunch of stupid asshole bigot ugly backward wicked frightened callous homophobic jerks they are. I remember thinking, The only repercussions this Supreme Court sodomy decision will have on our society is that it will enable us to take another giant step toward that seemingly unreachable goal of respecting our fellow man. And I remember thinking, What the hell is a ‘Very Fabric' anyway?
Oh, how wrong I was-for today, Aug. 27, 2007, all the dire predictions came true. The Supreme Court has made it legal for gays to marry-and the Apocalypse of Queer is truly upon us!
Day 2: It's only been two days since the fall of straight marriage and already the electricity is out. I put batteries in the radio and listened to the Emergency Broadcast System. Reports were coming in that homosexuals were getting married in droves and roaming the streets attacking heterosexuals. City Hall had been sacked and the grocery and department stores were looted bare. I nailed down doors, boarded windows, loaded my 20-gauge Remington single barrel shotgun and leaned it against the wall.
Day 3: Attacked by a gang of roving married queers today. I was rummaging the alley dumpsters for food and became encircled by a small gang of leather queens. They were shoving me between them like a medicine ball and kept calling me “Line” (as in straight as a...). Then they shoved me onto the ground and kicked me repeatedly.
“No, no, no,” I pleaded, crawling to my knees. “I'm gay, I'm gay! Gay is great! Gooooo gay!”
They stopped kicking then, a look of curious indecision and empathy on their faces. Their leader-a hairy, leather dandy with “Judas Priest” tattooed on his neck-stepped forward and unzipped his fly. “Prove it, Line,” he said, waving his disgusting phallus in my face.
I stood there frozen, unable to move. “I... I... I can't,” I stammered.
“He's a Line!” someone shouted. “A Line, a Line!” the mob chimed in. “Let's get him!”
The rest is a blur.
Day 15: Listened to the Emergency Broadcast again, but all they played was Cher, Liza and Barbara-24 hours straight: All-Day Diva Radio. I used to think homosexuals were just like regular people, but after listening to Diva Radio All Day I've come to understand how truly twisted they are. I realized then-I must never let them turn me gay.
Day 43: I'm the last heterosexual alive. The rest are dead or cruising gay bars. A shantytown of queers has developed outside my house and they take shifts throughout the night singing, “We Will Rock You” and “We are the Champions,” and slipping gay porn magazines through the mail slot, all in an effort to convert me to the gay way. I am sleep deprived, malnourished, under-hydrated-but staunchly convicted: Must. Never. Go. Gay.
Day 71: All Day Diva driving me to dementia. Cher keeps asking if I believe, believe in love after love and I really wish she'd stop asking. Caught myself staring longingly at the shotgun.
Day 101: Nothing left to read but gay porn. Found the articles to be well written and informative. Also discovered, I prefer late-era Cher over early Cher. Clutch rifle tightly to breast. I am the last straight thread in the very fabric of society. Must. Never. Be. Gay.
Day 138: Can't. Go. On. No food, but for spiders and flies. No water, but for tears. No warmth, but for Remington: I love you, shotgun rifle, your barrel so warm against my breastplate; so warm against my cheek; so warm inside my mouth: A perfect fit, I think as I push the barrel shaft to the back of my throat. Too perfect, I think, wrapping finger around trigger. Too disgustingly perfect, I think, gently squeezing off a buckshot orgasm....
