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Alana Burke Might Do Well To Find A Closet Of Her Own

Jim Burroway

February 6th, 2007

Here’s an odd column that appeared in Sunday’s Redding (CA) Record Searchlight:

Gays Might Do Well To Stay In The Closet

By Alana Burke, Columnist
Sunday, February 4, 2007

There was a time when to be “gay” simply meant that a person was happy, giddy, or perhaps just singin’ in the rain over requited love. Back then, people kept their clothes in the closet and their sexual preferences to themselves. In these days of over-the-top political correctness, we can’t throw a fagot on the fire for fear of offending someone and even the tooth fairy is suspect because so many words now carry a double entendre.

Well, Ms. Burke, I happen to be gay, which pretty much means that, yes, in fact, I am happy, giddy, and singing’ in the rain over requited love. And these days the only thing I keep in my closet are my clothes. But I think I should correct you on a few points.

I don’t think it’s over-the-top political correctness that keeps one from tossing a faggot onto the fire. I believe that would be fear of being charged with capital murder.

Oh, I see. That was humor you were trying to get at. That “keen observation of human foibles with a no-nonsense attitude” that so thrilled the editors of the Redding Record Searchlight that they invited you to share them in the Sunday opinion section. And oh, what observations you have!

Unfortunately, you failed on the “no-nonsense” part. Your column this time is nothing but nonsense.

Ms. Burke is incensed that gays are demanding “special rights”. What exactly are these special rights? She doesn’t much say, except the right to call people faggots. While doing so is in very poor taste, I agree with her on that one. Our beloved Constitution guarantees her right to call me or anyone else a faggot anytime she wants to. Have at it.

She concedes that hospitals ought to be nice and allow patients designate anyone they want to visit them under “family only” policies. That’s very generous of her. Now what about the main point, which is the whole issue about who gets to make decisions regarding that person’s care when he or she is incapacitated? She can be safely assured that her husband (if she’s married, that is) has that right, a “special” right that gays and lesbians do not have.

She also concedes that “provided that an agenda is not being pushed, any qualified person should be allowed to perform any given job, without harassment.” I’m still scratching my head over the “provided that an agenda is not being pushed” part. What agenda would that be? The agenda I publish for the weekly staff meeting? An agenda that says that I ought to expect that my employees and supervisors treat me fairly and with respect? What?

I was spending so much energy trying to puzzle that one out that I almost completely missed this little gem:

I’m a firm believer in the U.S. military policy of “don’t ask, don’t tell” except for the clause that prohibits homosexuals from serving their country.

Huh? Now my brain really hurts.

But what really gets her goat — and believe me, she spends an unusual amount of time worrying about sheep in this piece — what she’s really upset about is that we might go around showing, you know, affection for each other. Kinda like maybe the way she might. Maybe:

The LGBT organizations, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender, (sounds like a sandwich — a nice lettuce, gruyere, bacon and tomato) and the gay culture persistently push their agenda with displays of public face sucking and flamboyant antics and then complain bitterly when discriminated against.

I will be more than happy to make a deal with you, Alana. I’m serious on this one. I won’t suck face in your presence if you don’t suck face in mine.

And I also don’t want to see you holding hands, or calling your sweetheart by any pet names in public, not even “sweetheart.” No dancing together in public, no flagrant hand-holding, no in-your-face wedding announcements. As far as I’m concerned, you can just keep your flamboyant antics to yourself.

And I don’t want to hear anything about dates the morning after, or marriages or spouses or anything, you know, “yucky.” I don’t want to hear about where you went for your honeymoon or anniversary or St. Valentine’s day. And that picture you keep on your desk at work, the one where he has his arms around you. I can’t even begin to tell you how inappropriate that is.

I don’t want to hear about what you did with your boyfriend or husband last weekend, even if it was just to watch the Superbowl. I don’t want to know what cute thing he did, or what awesome plans you’ve cooked up for him on his birthday, or what argument you had just, or how worried you are about his medical tests and the results that won’t come back for another week. I don’t want to hear about any of that. You can just keep all of that “sex stuff” to yourself.

It’s time for everyone to just stop “parading their sexual preferences” Including yours, Alana. That would certainly make my life so much gayer.

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Equality Loudoun >> Let's make a deal
February 8th, 2007 | LINK

From the Department of Special Rights: Following the offer (more than generous, in my view) of a mutual moratorium on public “face-sucking” and other bad behavior, Jim from Box Turtle Bulletin continues the negotiations: [...]

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