(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.
My social life seemed to peak during the last week, only to plateau again. Last Tuesday was my eighteenth birthday so I endured the obligatory family gathering to celebrate. My cousin's boyfriend decided to invite himself without bothering to inform anybody and showed up in the middle of our dinner just to eat our food. He didn't speak to anybody but my cousins and he was very curt when anyone else tried to start conversation. He left without saying a word of thanks, because I guess a nice "Thank you for letting me eat six slices of YOUR pizza" is too much. What a douche.
It's hailing so hard right now that my mom actually has a legit excuse not to take me out for milkshakes (the fact that we can't drive, not the temp. I can eat ice cream anywhere, any time).
I hope that means I don't have to go to school tomorrow. I hate school. I hate Mr. Richards, who can't give directions when we need them and talks to hear his own voice.
I also hate how my mom keeps walking in because my window has a view of the hail. I've decided to ignore her.
I heard about David Bowie's new album being released about a month or two ago. I finally heard two songs from the CD/Album and I'm very impressed. So much so, i want to get the CD. I listened to 'Dancing out in space' & 'you will set the world on fire' while I was getting my coffee this morning, and both were pretty good. Can't wait to hear the rest of the tracks. He's probably the only musician I've known who can re-invent himself every decade. He's truly amazing.
i suppose that when i take
pills but i'm not sick
it really means i'm
sicker than i
The first bit is quite trivial but the other stuff not so much.
I started watching this show that's been off the air for a number of years. I'm really enjoying it. So I post a question to a forum a week or so ago explicitly stating that I'm watching the show for the first time, don't want spoilers, ect. What do I get? Some douche private messaging me humongous spoilers. Ugh. People. No respect. No consideration. No nothing.
There were no goodbyes scrawled
on the bed frame,
no apologies painted on the floor
with tea and chalk.
Those words didn't
exist in your vocabulary, lover,
because you weren't
supposed to feel anything.
But then I came along with
my searching blue eyes and
demanding lips and you couldn't
just get rid of me like all the rest, no..
The seductive rain hit the windows
with an angry hand and made
the sky shrivel up like vanilla skin
and we stripped off our clothes
under a cluster of police lights;
strawberry red and turquoise fear.
You kissed my mouth like a Sadie
I'm not sure how I feel about everything that's happend this week. But from what I can tell is that this must be the smoothest week I've had in a few months. Nothing big or insane happened but nothing bland or dull either. Should it be left up to me, yes I'm quite content. However one will always be slightly non.