(faxed to Robertson on 1/25/96)
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.
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.
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.
And no, this is not photocopying of poRn...JB....
I went to a party on Saturday night. While I was gone, my mother, by stealth, found my diary and stories I
So today, I come to work, and find myself presented with a brand new corner cube. nice eh? and all it took was a trailor trash hoochie to sexually harass me and fuck up my old work station. nice. why can't I be sexually Harassed by attractive men?
I am also recovering nicely from the Testicle slashing incident. which from now on will be refered to as "section E" which Jules has coined it.
Well, last week I returned to Woody's for the first time in a few months. I've lost a little weight since the last time and I donned a new shirt that made me look even thinner, so I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I mean, I'm not hideous; surely someone would find me attractive enough to dance with me, and I was in the mood for some fun.
My friends and I decided to go at the last minute; the night actually started as a gay bowling night, but after an hour of some really bad bowling we decided that we should go somewhere that was more suited to our strengths. We packed my car with two of my girl friends (one a lesbian, one straight), a girl and guy from the gay union whom I didn't know very well before then, and me. After a good amount of time listening to various bad club songs and me singing along to Cher (whom I LOVE because she sings in my range), we finally started seeing the city in the distance. That was when I sort of freaked because I've never driven in the city before, but with the help of my friends and the fact that there were almost no cars on the roads because it was late on a Wednesday night, we finally maneuvered to a parking garage and got out. Then we did the usual "take only what you need: license, " discard thing, and we left the car to walk to the club in the bitter cold without jackets because we weren't sure if there was a coat check or not. The streets were very different from the way they were in October. There were no cute boy couples walking with their arms around each other or groups of guys laughing loudly and greeting the friends they ran into on thre street; the streets were very empty right up to the club. We finally got there, paid, and entered.
snow day, snow day, Linds doesn't have French today...
I think about Chris intermittently through the day, but I mostly think of him at night before I close my eyes and try to sleep in earnest. I don