If. Only.

Just this month, Franklin Graham in a fiery keynote speech at the World Summit in Defense of Persecuted Christians -- yes, apparently that's a thing now -- declared without citing figures or sources beyond his own made-upness that "I am sure the number of Christians who are in prison or martyred each year would stagger our mind if we really knew what the total number really was."

Oh, the heartbreak of "if only." And I'm sure the collective singular "our mind" was just a typo in the transcript. Because surely these hapless persecution victims have more than one mind between them.

#TheCognitiveDissonance

Oh, Scott. Scott, Scott, Scott. Bless your heart. I'll try to keep this short so you can get back to showing off your import:

1. The fact that you feel obligated to state that you're not afraid is tacit acknowledgement that we're well past the tipping point where most of your swamp friends are afraid to admit they support Melania's Profound Regret and all thinking people are afraid for reasons that are apparently beyond your understanding.
2. Speaking of understanding, "tacit" means "understood or implied without being stated."
3. Really. One little sticker is more than enough to proclaim to the world your catastrophic lack of judgment. But five little stickers AND an entire bottle of rub-on shoe polish? That just exponentiates your bad judgment about your bad judgment.
4. "Exponentiates" means "raises one quantity to the power of another."
5. Don't worry. Betsy DeVos took that last one off the test. Math is apparently too Satany.
6. Your car photo doesn't show your license plate so I can't discern what state you live in -- gratuitous "of denial" and "of delusion" jokes notwithstanding -- but a perfunctory google search just showed me that obstructing your rear window outside of a varying allowance of a few square inches in each corner is considered dangerous and illegal in all of the state traffic codes I read.
7. STATES' RIGHTS! YEAH!
8. "Perfunctory" means "carried out with a minimum of effort."
9. I apologize. I know I promised to keep this short. But there are so many things profoundly wrong with you.
10. Mazda is a Japanese multinational automaker based in Fuchū, Aki District, Hiroshima Prefecture, Japan. Four of the five little stickers on your Japan-is-not-America Mazda clearly -- CLEARLY! -- state "MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!" In all caps! With exclamation points! One has to wonder the level of cognitive dissonance required to put multiple pro-America stickers on an imported car and declare a "love" of "showing off" that car in presumably pro-American "support" of a by clear implication pro-American "president."
11. "Cognitive dissonance" means ... oh, never mind. Betsy won't allow it on the test either. Enjoy your metaphorical obstructed-view drive.
12. "Metaphor" means ... oy ... let's just say it's one fewer than metaphive so you won't have to count so high.

White-shaming. No, really. White-shaming.

If it's Monday, it must be microwaves

Steve King's race to the bottom of the shithole

Read about the piece of shit here

Steve King does not represent white people, does not represent Iowans and does not represent rational thought on any level.

Despite the environment of prejudice and contempt and malice that he and his crawling-out-of-the-woodwork ilk are working overtime to establish, we -- the educated, benevolent, magnanimous class -- have allies of every color and every nationality who celebrate and treasure and nurture the diversity that turns our differences into a gloriously multifaceted ONE. We strive to see color and nationality and race (though I always hesitate to use that word because from my perspective it seems to be an artificial construct invented specifically to create an intellectual and cultural barrier between white Europeans and black Africans to justify slavery and cruelty and the belief that black people were in some measurable way inferior to white people) for what it brings to our larger humanity while we also strive to look past it and just to see people instead of color and nationality and (despite the previous parenthetical I still always feel like I need to explain myself when I use this word) race.

To me, the genuinely inferior people are those who -- especially in the Information Age -- are surrounded by facts and knowledge and good, decent, intelligent, live-by-example people but still choose to be racist. And when they stand tall and loud and proud in their racism like Steve King, they reveal themselves to be the low and empty and subhuman feculence they claim to hate in other people.

The Bowling Green Microwave

Laugh derisively here

First of all, I begrudgingly give her points for knowing that "surveil" is a legitimate verb. But she has spouted so many lies and dodged so many questions and defended so much borderline-to-actual treasonous stupidity that she's pre-emptively undermined everything she ever has or will say on any topic real or delusional and I see her as little more than the end of a sewer pipe. So all earned points -- begrudging or not -- are hereby revoked on principle, in perpetuity.

Now. "Microwaves that turn into cameras."

I'm no surveillance expert, so for all I know there is somewhere in some secret-location subterranean server room a vast database of microwave-taken photos of every person in America folding napkins and doing dishes. Except me. Because I hate doing dishes. But again, given Miss Kellyanne's abovementioned in-perpetuity sewer status, this Bowling Green Microwave Incident defines a level of intellectual firepower and imploding integrity that is actually lower than rock-bottom. Fathoms lower. And it's filled with accidentally burned popcorn. And rubbery scrambled eggs. And reheated cinnamon rolls that turn into chewy rocks if you don't eat them in 3.75 seconds. And, though I'm admittedly sometimes immature on this topic, I do try not to make gratuitous insults based on someone's appearance. But microwaves. Cameras. Kellyanne's face. It's all just too irresistible. Now, please pass the popcorn.

Jesus. At LEAST have enough self-esteem to write in horizontal lines.

I'm trying really hard not to call her Betsy DeVoid

Using schools to "advance God's kingdom" missionary Betsy DeVos -- who 20 days ago went unblinkingly on record as advocating putting guns in schools filled with children in order to protect them from grizzly bears -- has an alarming and well-documented history of borderline hostility toward public schools -- going so far as to call them a "dead end" -- and toward teacher salaries, secularism, fundamental education standards and even universal federal protections for students with disabilities.

And despite her manifest lack of experience, knowledge and qualification to oversee and influence and shape our nation's entire public education system for the next four years -- starting with the fact that she's never been educated in a public school -- Betsy DeVos was laughably softballed through perfunctory confirmation hearings last month -- before which she had not even completed an ethics review -- and was today confirmed as our nation's Secretary of Education.

Because we as a nation cannot afford to have our children be more educated than our president.

Read all the gory details here

[Confidential to Donald Trump and Betsy DeVos: "Perfunctory" means "performed hastily and superficially as mere routine duty."]

Isn't it rich?

"I am very proud now that we have a museum on the National Mall where people can learn about Reverend King, so many other things, Frederick Douglass is an example of somebody who’s done an amazing job and is getting recognized more and more, I notice."

--United States President Donald Trump, February 1, 2017.

“I think there’s contributions — I think he wants to highlight the contributions that he has made. And I think through a lot of the actions and statements that he’s going to make, I think the contributions of Frederick Douglass will become more and more.”
--White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer, February 1, 2017.

Mein Coif

You'd think someone with a high I.Q. would know better than to use a comma splice

Bear false witness much?

ONE
"The [Day of Silence] event brings attention to anti-LGBT bullying, harassment and discrimination in schools. Students observe the day in silence to echo the silence LGBT and ally students face every day."
—The dayofsilence.org web site. This year's Day of Silence will be held on April 25 in memory of Lawrence King, a California 8th grader who was shot and killed Feb. 12 by a classmate because of his sexual orientation and gender expression.

"By remaining silent, the intent of the pro-homosexual students is to disrupt the classes while promoting the homosexual lifestyle."
—Spiritual terrorism organization Mission:America, grotesquely distorting the function of Day of Silence in an inflammatory Internet alert last week. The alert further implied that it would be acceptable for parents to have their children call in sick on April 25 even if they were perfectly healthy. The group's page has since been changed to remove these two instances of outright calumny.

TWO
"What is truly outrageous here is that a Christian elected official can be vilified — even have her life threatened — over simply speaking about the Bible's view of homosexuality."
—Gary Schneeberger, vice president for media relations at Focus on the Family Action, in response to public outcry over statements by Oklahoma Rep. Sally Kern. In a clumsy, secretly recorded speech she made that has been broadcast all over the Internet, Kern trotted out much of the tired party-line slander the right wing regularly aims at gay people, including the concept of a "homosexual agenda," the supposed "deadly consequences" of being gay, and the ideas that gay people are "going after ... in schools ... two-year-olds ... so they can indoctrinate them" and "gays are infiltrating city councils." Kern further claims that homosexuality is "the biggest threat ... that our nation has ... even more so than terrorism." Contrary to Schneeberger's statements, Kern never once mentions the Bible in the recordings I've found.

"There are a lot of e-mails to the representative that say, 'You ought to die,' rather than, 'I am going to kill you.' I wouldn't characterize them as death threats."
—Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation spokeswoman Jessica Brown. The OSBI was called to investigate after Kern alleged that she'd received death threats for her comments.

LOLodytes

Whateveresque has a great collection illustrating the (ahem) evolution of the LOLcats meme using images from the so-called Creation Museum. I'd insert a snarky joke here, but the examples I pulled from the site do it way better than I could:

You haven't lived until ...

... you've sung the National Anthem as an out ’n’ proud gay man in front of 40,000 screaming baseball fans. This was the fourth National Anthem at the Cubs for the Chicago Gay Men's Chorus, and our performance this year was even better than the first three because 1) the brand-new seating that cantilevers over the the entrance we always use (labeled "Gate Q," which I mention here for no particular reason) created a nice shady place for us to wait until we were marched onto the field, 2) our artistic director fleshed out his already rockin' arrangement of the National Anthem with some lush new harmonies and some soaring vocal fireworks at the end and 3) our last few notes were drowned out by a roaring MILITARY FLYOVER that sent everyone in the stadium into a patriotic frenzy of screaming, cheering and voter registration renewing. (Unfortunately, there was no patriotic frenzy of televising us, so as far as you know, this whole post is one elaborate lie.)

... you've been personally picketed by Fred "Gay Buttsex" Phelps and his gang of we're-not-gay gay-buttsex-obsessed witnesses for Christ. A sad little contingent of Fred's peeps dragged their discount fashions and their sparkly, rainbow-festooned God Hates Fags signs all the way to the big city to convert the Cubs fans to their cute little religion on Saturday. But the Cubs security detail walled them off on some obscure street corner, so we didn't get a chance to cross paths with their cocksuckery ministry. The CGMC artistic director read part of the group's barely-English ("the abominable, ao (sic) called Chicago Gay Men's Chorus") press release out loud at rehearsal Sunday night. Its third-grader logic and its Ann Coulter vocabulary tempered its underlying hatred for us, but its declaration that we are "appropriately known as Chicago's Anal-Copulating Caterwaulers" drew some whoops and cheers. But not in the way Fred probably hoped—though most likely in the way Fred secretly fantasizes when he's alone with his Jergens and his fishnets.

...you've changed clothes in the Wrigley Field men's room. Matthew and I were not interested in watching the game in our black-and-white monkey suits, so we brought a change of clothes into the stadium with us after we sang. We figured the bathrooms on the ground floor—the fabled trough rooms lined with men peeing elbow-to-elbow in a tribute to urination efficiency—would be a weird place for two guys whose outfits announced to the whole stadium "Hey! We're gay! We just sang for you! In matching outfits!" to strip down to our name-brand underpants. So we climbed to the top tier where we figured the bathrooms would be 1) less populated and 2) less covered in pee. We had to sweet-talk a guard who wasn't about to let us up without top-tier tickets (alliteration runs rampant!), but she agreed that the steerage bathrooms weren't the place for two half-naked gay singers and she scooted us up to the fancy bathrooms so we could complete our transformation in relative privacy. But even the floors in the first-class loo still seemed like they were covered in pee.

... as a person who officially couldn't care less, you've pleaded with an 8-year-old to enjoy watching the Cubs kick butt. My brother-in-law is a Dodgers fan. So my nephew has decided he has to be a Dodgers fan as well. But his little 8-year-old world is still pretty black-and-white, which means he'd be committing a patriarchal betrayal on the magnitude of Greek tragedy if he—just for a moment—made some outward sign of happiness, approval or even basic organic function in the face of the Cubs' 9-5 whopping of the Pirates on Saturday. So sullen he sat (alliteration runs rampant!) while his Cubs-neutral uncle very conspicuously jumped up and cheered and clapped and sang about Cracker Jack for three hours next to him.

...you've killed a man with your bare hands. Or so I hear.

...you've spent a weekend playing provider for the most important people in your world. My folks, my sister, and my niece and nephew came to Chicago to hear me sing and to hang out with Justin and me for the weekend. (My brother-in-law stayed home to tile and grout their new kitchen floor, which sounds like it could be a total Cubs-hating cop-out, but having just finished my own kitchen renovation I totally understand his need to stay on schedule and his burning desire to get the damn thing done.) And when my family wasn't enjoying their day at Wrigley Field on our dime, they were eating our food and sitting on our furniture and using our towels and sleeping safely and soundly in our beds ... and I just can't think of a more satisfying feeling than having everyone I love under our care for a whole weekend.

... you've watched your niece and nephew play happily with your fiancé (and vice versa). I'm getting everything I've ever wanted out of my relationship with Justin: a best friend, a happy home, a life of endless giggles and snuggles and Law & Order reruns ... and now the realization of all my extended-family domestic fantasies. Just as his family and his nieces have embraced me as one of their own, my family and my niece and nephew see him as a part of us. Amid all the meals and conversations and jokes we shared this weekend, we even got a bonus round: Justin's family stopped by so the adults could all meet each other and the kids could all play together and if I hadn't been so busy putting fruit garnishes on dessert options, I might have thought about how happy I was and burst into tears right there in front of everyone. Thank goodness my hand-sliced strawberry fans kept my runaway emotions in check.

Snapshots from a Toronto business trip:

4:15 am
It’s dark. I’m a morning person in the same way Bob Allen is a heterosexual crusader for our country’s moral health. But I manage to wake up and shower and shave and put on my foo-foo expensive impress-the-client shirt and head out to the airport in plenty of time to get checked in and through security without any problems.

Flying United
The United web site tells me to check in at the Air Canada desk in Terminal 2. I go to the kiosk since I have no bags to check and it tells me to check in with a United gate agent in Terminal 1. But the United gate agent in Terminal 1 tells me the kiosk couldn’t have possibly told me to talk to a United gate agent and he directs me to use a United kiosk. When the United kiosk tells me once again to talk to a United gate agent in Terminal 1 and I show the screen to the agent I'd been talking to, he looks me right in the eye and says—and I am not making this up—“That’s not what it’s telling you. It’s telling you to check in with an Air Canada gate agent in Terminal 2.” By the time I get back to Terminal 2 and reach an actual gate agent—a mere 30 minutes before I am supposed to board—she looks at me sternly and says “You’re late.”

United/Air Canada: You are the Dubya administration. You suck and I hate you.

Getting through security
I keep a tiny little travel toothpaste in a zippered pocket in the the professional-looking carry-on I use for one-day business trips. I rarely use it, but it's nice to know that if I have a tooth- or breath-related emergency at 40,000 feet, I'll always have a dentifrice at the ready. In any case, it’s sailed unnoticed through countless security checks at airports across the country for years. But yesterday, it was suddenly a Dire Threat To World Security because it wasn’t put in its own private plastic bag and sent through the scanner in its own private gray tub. I am given a stern talking-to because I’d tried to “hide” it in my carry-on.

On the way home, I simply put it in my pants pocket and it sails through the security check unnoticed yet again. Don’t you all feel safer knowing how easy that was?

Flying with drinkers
The guy seated behind me orders a double vodka and soda. At 7:00 am. Suddenly I don’t feel so bad about drinking Diet Pepsi for breakfast.

Canada
It’s just like America, but it’s a whole different country. We should probably fear it. Maybe even invade it. Different can’t possibly be good.

The Hertz NeverLost GPS device
It doesn’t have the most intuitive interface, but once you figure it out, it sure gets you where you want to go with remarkable ease and simplicity. Except when you’re searching for a restaurant located at the back of a vast strip mall with only one access road and the device dumps you off in the middle of a highway bridge about 100 feet (or meters or metres or dodecahedrons or whatever they use in Canada) past your turnoff.

Cell phones
I hadn’t bothered to check what my phone/calling plan can do in Canada. I quickly find that I can send and receive text messages and make and receive calls, but I can’t check my voice mail. And I can’t send photos. Not even this one of a sign I see on a door:

Clients
The whole trip is designed for me to meet the clients I’ve been working with over the phone for almost a year. You could say that yesterday I flew to Canada and back just to have lunch … and then go to 15 meetings. By sheer coincidence, our lunch party consists of me, my female colleague and about 20 females from the client office. As we are finishing up, a creepy old man comes up to me and swats me on the back to congratulate me for being able to “land” so many lovely ladies. Then he asks what my secret is and wonders aloud if it could be my cologne.

Dear creepy old man,
Here’s my secret: I don’t treat women as some kind of prize. I don’t belittle an entire table of them by using language comparing them to an elusive sea bass or a troubled airplane or whatever ridiculous metaphor you were going for when you used the word “land.” But if you have a hot son, I’d be more than happy to “land” him in front of you and your wife so you can share in the celebration of my ongoing conquests. P.S. I don’t wear cologne. What you were smelling was probably laundry detergent. You should look into it.

Customs
If you can possibly manage it, avoid customs agents with booshy moostaches. They tend to enjoy their jobs a little too much.

Small world
As we wait for our delayed flight home at the Toronto airport, a picture of an old college friend appears on the international news on the TV monitor hanging above the table where I scarf down a surprisingly good airport sandwich.

Amy Jacobson and I had been partners in the University of Iowa’s Old Gold Singers waaaaaay back in the late 1980s, where I often entertained the thought that I was dancing all sexy behind her in her “Le Jazz Hot” solo. If I knew which box my photo albums were packed in, I could probably find an embarrassing photo to scan and post as fluffy-haired proof. She was strikingly beautiful and a little famous for dating Jeff Moe, the pretty-boy media darling of the Iowa basketball team who many of us chorus boys secretly hoped was using Amy as a gateway to meeting us. I’d all but forgotten about Amy until 10 years after graduation when I moved to Chicago and found her reporting nightly on the local NBC affiliate. We’d run into each other a couple times since then—and she’d even spotted me in the crowd as she waved from the NBC-sponsored floats in the gay pride parades over the years.

And now she’s staring down at me from a TV monitor in a Canadian airport. It seems she’s been fired from her job for being caught on tape having a pool party with the husband of a missing woman—a story she’s been covering recently. The tape was “exclusive video” from the Chicago CBS affiliate, which is widely regarded around Chicago as the poor man’s “A Current Affair.” And now the story has been picked up internationally. Most reports make a point to mention the fact that Amy’s wearing a bikini in the video footage, though not one of them describes the pool attire the missing woman’s husband is wearing.

Swag
As the cab pulls up to my house just before midnight, I hear my trendy sunglasses clattering to the floor from somewhere in my carry-on. I pay the driver, grab my glasses and my carry-on and crawl my tired little world-traveler butt toward the house, where the boyfriend greets me with the Best Hug Ever. Once I get in the light, I discover that my trendy sunglasses are safely tucked away in my carry-on, and I am now the proud owner of someone else’s trendy sunglasses as well. I’m gonna put them in the dishwasher before I wear them, though, because they’re covered in greasy facial DNA. But hey! Free sunglasses!

HA!

Easy-target humor from my favorite straight blogger:

(Of course, this would probably be funnier if we didn't have three—three!—presidential candidates who earnestly believe that Adam and Eve rode dinosaurs to church. But it's still funny.)

Suffering fools and suffering children

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The more you say it, the dumber you sound

JACKSONVILLE, Fla. - Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney said Thursday that his opposition to same-sex marriage should not be interpreted as intolerance of gays, who served in his administration when he was Massachusetts governor.

See? Some of his best friends are gays.

Romney’s record on gay rights has drawn scrutiny — and criticism that he changes with the political winds. In a 1994 bid against Sen. Edward Kennedy, Romney argued that he would be a better champion of gay rights than the Democrat. In 2003, after the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled that same-sex couples could wed in the state, Romney pushed for a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage.

The Bush camp has a puerile, overly simplistic word for Massachusetts politicians who change their minds on key election issues. I wonder why they haven’t yet voiced their shock and indignance over Mitt’s character-destroying flip-floppery.

On Thursday, after talking to about 400 people at a downtown library, he said that doesn’t mean he is intolerant.

Because changing the Constitution to prevent certain classes of citizens from securing rights that include health coverage, financial security and household stability is not intolerant. The correct word is hateful.

“What you look for in a leader is someone who will welcome and treat with respect people who made different choices and have different beliefs in their lives and have differences. I have nothing but respect and feelings of tolerance for people with differences from myself and feel that way with regards to those who are gay,” he said.

He noted that one of his Cabinet members was gay and that he appointed gays to positions of responsibility in his administration.

“Positions of responsibility.” That means he put them at the big kids’ table. How very Cheney of him.

“I oppose discrimination against gay people,” Romney said. “I am not anti-gay. I know there are some Republicans, or some people in the country who are looking for someone who is anti-gay and that’s not me.”

Wait for it … wait for it …

He said he is opposed to gay marriage because it’s not in the best interest of children.

Because marriage is only about children. That’s why there’s a childbearing requirement attached to all marriage contracts. That’s why my boyfriend and I—who have no children, want no children and aren’t biologically designed to accidentally produce children—can’t get married. Because Mitt Romney thinks our marriage would not be in the best interest of children.

I don’t think Mitt Romney is in the best interest of children—especially the adult children who keep perpetuating the myth of his thoughtfulness, his ability to lead the diverse populations of this country or even his relevance. Why can’t we put their marriages up for a vote? Why can’t we ban them with a Constitutional amendment? Why can’t we barter their lives for votes?

Wingnut Smackdown 2007!

Fred “I’m Extremely, Compulsively, All-Encompassingly Obsessed With Hot Man-On-Man Gay Buttex To The Point I’ve Made A Lifelong Career Of Talking About It But I’m NOT Gay” Phelps and the educated heterosexuals at his Westboro Baptist Church have announced they’re going to “preach at the memorial service of the corpulent false prophet Jerry Falwell, who spent his entire life prophesying lies and false doctrines like ‘God loves everyone.’”

Now Falwell and his followers, for all their goat-fucking retardedness, were at least focused enough to pick one doctrine and stick with it. And whether they were attacking blacks or women or gays or atheists or people living with HIV, they were most certainly NOT preaching “God loves everyone.”

So when Phelps shows up at the memorial service armed for a heady debate over biblical doctrine and the finer points of its exegesis, the resulting clash of knowledge and ideas and sheer, God-given brainpower will result in an epic explosion of … well, proof that intelligent design is as grounded in reality as a Mitt Romney campaign statement.

Delicious emotional trainwreckery aside, this little wingut smackdown may finally give the Falwell sheep a taste of how much it sucks to be so vocally hated and vilified by people who wrap their seething irrationality in a cloak of moral imperative.

Of course, being on the receiving end of such hatred and vitriol historically seems to bolster the Christian Hate Industry’s sense of self-worth. So Wingnut Smackdown 2007! may amount to nothing more than the we’re-finally-making-social-progress equivalent of Paris Hilton’s jail sentence.

In any case, Falwell’s dead, and he died alone and in pain, hopefully pooping himself in the process. It’s a fitting ending to the pain and crap he willingly inflicted on generations of blacks, women, gay people, people infected with HIV, and their families and loved ones. That he will suffer the added indignity of a Phelps protest at his memorial service is just icing on the cake.

Mmmmm … cake …

NOW who's gonna blame the homosexuals?

LYNCHBURG, Va. - The Rev. Jerry Falwell — founder of the Moral Majority and the face of the religious right in the 1980s — was in “gravely serious” condition Tuesday after being found unconscious in his office, a Liberty University executive said.

Ron Godwin, Liberty's executive vice president, said Falwell was found unresponsive around 10:45 a.m. and taken to Lynchburg General Hospital. Godwin said he was not sure what caused the collapse, but “he has a history of heart challenges.”

“I had breakfast with him, and he was fine at breakfast,” Godwin said. “He went to his office, I went to mine and they found him unresponsive.”

A hospital spokeswoman said she had “no information to release at this time” on Falwell.

Falwell, a television evangelist who founded the Moral Majority in 1979, became the face of the religious right in the 1980s. He later founded the conservative Liberty University and serves as its chancellor.

In the 1980s, Falwell saw his political lobbying organization grow to 6.5 million members, raising millions for conservative politicians.

Falwell survived two serious health scares in early 2005. He was hospitalized for two weeks with what was described as a viral infection, then hospitalized again a few weeks later with congestive heart failure after being found unconscious. At that time he had to be resuscitated by EMTs at the hospital emergency room.

"Heart challenges" is a beautiful example of misleading religious euphemism. A brief history of the world according to Jerry Falwell:
“AIDS is not just God’s punishment for homosexuals; it is God’s punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals.”

“I do not believe the homosexual community deserves minority status. One’s misbehavior does not qualify him or her for minority status. Blacks, Hispanics, women, etc., are God-ordained minorities who do indeed deserve minority status.”

“AIDS is the wrath of a just God against homosexuals. To oppose it would be like an Israelite jumping in the Red Sea to save one of Pharoah’s chariotters.”

“I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way — all of them who have tried to secularize America — I point the finger in their face and say, ‘You helped this happen.’”
— Falwell assigning blame for the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001

UPDATE: God's Little Goatfucker is dead. And his lack of common decency extended all the way to the bitter end; he didn't even suffer a long, slow, painful death.