An Open Letter to Pat Robertson from Dr. Mel White
(faxed to Robertson on 1/25/96)
Dear Pat,
There is a growing spirit of intolerance in our land. Since the 1600s, when fundamentalist Christians chased Roger Williams to Rhode Island and burned 'witches' at the stake in Salem, similar cycles of intolerance have littered the nation with broken bodies and ruined dreams. Now, it's happening again. And that's why we're writing you.
We are convinced that your relentless campaign against homosexuality is a primary cause of the growing spirit of intolerance towards lesbian, gay, and bisexual Americans. We have monitored every 700 Club broadcast since you came to visit me in the Virginia Beach City Jail in March, 1995. And though you condemn violence, we are also convinced that your false and inflammatory anti-homosexual rhetoric leads indirectly to the very violence you condemn.
Jamie Nabozny, 20, of Minneapolis, Minnesota
By Jeff Walsh
As a teenager, Jamie Nabozny tried to kill himself just so he wouldn't have to go to school.
From seventh to eleventh grade at Ashland Middle and Ashland High Schools in Wisconsin, Nabozny was: harassed, spit on, mock-raped while other students laughed, urinated on, called a "fag" by a teacher and kicked repeatedly in the stomach by his fellow students. He eventually dropped out of school.
One gay man's journey to find God, and himself
By Jeff Walsh
A newsgroup for gay and lesbian youth seeking help is constantly flooded with questions of how to balance sexuality and spirituality. The struggle to balance the two proves fatal for many teens, and it almost killed Mel White.
White, 55, is now the Minister of Justice for the Metropolitan Community Churches nationwide. As late as 1991, Dr. White's resume read like an entry out of Who's Who in the Religious Right. He wrote speeches for Ollie North, was a ghostwriter on a book for Jerry Falwell, worked with Jim Bakker and Pat Robertson and walked along the beach with Billy Graham.
Latest journal entries.
(a)muse(ment)
3 March, 2003 - 3:17am — lindsExtended usage of parentheses is dangerous to one's health. It screams, "too much time spent in theoryland!"
I want to channel my favorite theorists today. Become... Kristeva, say, or Cixous, for a minute or two. Theory is a deliciously filling alternate universe. It's a place where the real things -- deadlines, feelings, and so on -- are turned away at the entrance. Theory is like ice cream. You want it, but damn it, it's not that good for you in large quantities.
Jazzer's back in action!
3 March, 2003 - 12:50am — JazzerHi kids!
Yes I know, it's been so very long. It's great to see the old gang as well as all the new people, so welcome to all of you.
Since it has been a long time since I've written, I think we need to catch up on my goings on, so here's my life, as it stands right now, in a nutshell....
Love Stories
2 March, 2003 - 11:16pm — NiftyLozerI sit here and watch all these stupid love movies where its bliss, everything always works out, high school sweethearts get married and live happily ever after, guy breaks up bad marriage and gets the girl, or whatever...they all end the same...HAPPILY. I want that, I know itll never happen, but there has to be somethin out there better than what Ive got. I mean, how much bitching and whining and arguing can one person take in a 2 year relationship? Everyother day is a fukkin dramatic argument that usually ends in one of us dumping the other.
I really have nothing to say.
2 March, 2003 - 10:58pm — Craves_BloodI found my old neopets account passwords. Now I have 5 accounts, but I've only tried to get into the first 4.
1) craves_blood
What's the difference between me and you?
2 March, 2003 - 10:55pm — eTgenPEOPLE!!!! It feels so go to be back...
Hip-hop is in a state of 911, so...
Random Depression
2 March, 2003 - 6:08pm — BoygasmEveryday is just like any other day, people being as they are. Ignorant, stuck up, gossip, and making rumors that never happened and yet they just love to make other people feel bad. Yet, here I am, stuck and feeling sorry for myself in my dank bedroom painted in dark purple and white ceiling. Laying comfortably on my double bed, on sky blue sheets with gold stars and moons floating on the spread. My tiger faux print pillows and blanket, three other pillows lies uncovered from its slip, double sized black blanket covering myself, with beautiful patterns of faded white flowers. Sometimes the room can be like a boiler, as my own mother would state
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