Wednesday, February 14, 2007

John Amaechi is gay. "Who's John Amaechi?" Yeah, that's what I said. He was a backup center for the Utah Jazz of the National Basketball Association (I typed that out in case some untutored wretches didn't know). As you read this, take note of the evidence Amaechi cites of his gayness, for lack of a better term. He likes opera. He cooks. He gardens. This man doesn't feel he fit very well in that juvenile cesspool of immaturity that is the competitive locker room. You don't say! I would say that I don't fit very well either. Is that evidence of anything? Wisdom, perhaps. What about the other things? To which I can only reply: Are you kidding me? This is the heart of a movement changing the face of society, people who go against prevailing sex stereotypes? There is nothing remotely unmanly about gardening, opera, or even liking the Carpenters. (I'm not terribly familiar with their catalog, but "Close to You" is a great song, for one) Who forgot to affirm this guy when he was a boy? Who told him he was different? Seriously, aside from desiring to have sex with men, is there anything about John Amaechi that makes him bizarrely different than me? "Gay" is almost totally a socio-political identity with little relation to actual homosexual practice. It makes me mad, because I'm sensitive, I enjoy shopping and 'chick flicks', communicating and crying. (Enjoy is too strong a word, but I'm not anti-crying) Am I gay too? Maybe I'm just not afraid to embrace my multifaceted self.
I feel so bad for people who discover that they are attracted to people of the same sex. No matter how one comes down on assessing the issue morally, it must be terribly confusing and frightening to realize this about oneself. But I have almost unending scorn for those who lead others into homosexual practice. Indeed, I know that danger looms for all traders of sexual immorality of all kinds. That's right, Rev. Falwell, that guy in the third pew with the secret account on Jenna Jameson's website is in the same place as the gay guy you can barely stand. And so am I. In any case, I am profoundly annoyed with the aforementioned revelations. It's not "courageous" and not heroic. I sense the whole world sliding toward Hell, and apparently people just want to celebrate, well, anything that strikes their fancies. I discussed some of these issues with ESPN's Michelle Voepel via e-mail when WNBA legend Sheryl Swoopes "came out" some time ago. She was very gracious, I have to say. (Michelle writes mostly on women's college basketball, and she's fantastic at it, by the way.) I thought the far more vile sin was Swoopes' betrayal of her marriage, and the damage this might do to her children, all for something she "felt." These days, "You can't help who you love" is a maxim. With all due respect, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Yes, you can! Love is when attraction meets respect and timing. It's not like catching a cold, or falling into a pit. It's not involuntary. And it can be firmly rooted in Scripture. Rant over. (Finally!--ed.) Shut up, Ed.