I have always turned to the Catholic Church for dependable advice in times of uncertainty. When I was a medieval pauper and my milk was souring and my crops were dying, the Catholic Church helped me track down and burn the witches who were responsible. When I was an impoverished African tribesman seeking to prevent the spread of HIV around my community, the Catholic Church helped to shield me from the heresy of condoms. And when I was an innocent young altar boy… well, that one's a bit personal. But suffice to say I had an eye-opening experience.
That was a long time ago. Now I am a young man, a young man who might one day want to settle down and get married. I am straight, so I imagine I would like to marry a woman. You know, the ones with long hair and unsightly bumps on their chests. But I am also an idiot, if my ridged adherence to outmoded dogma is anything to go by. Due to my incredible stupidity, I fear that I am at a great risk of making a huge mistake and accidentally marrying a man.
Thank God, then, that once again the Catholic Church is looking out for me. Their outspoken campaign against gay marriage was bolstered today by Cardinal Keith O'Brien, who issued a pejorative missive on the subject in the Sunday Telegraph, presumably whilst dressed up like a particularly ostentatious member of the Ku Klux Klan. Gay marriage, he said, is a "grotesque subversion of a universally accepted human right." The human right he's referring to, I'm assuming, is the right to a life without fear of accidentally marrying a man.
I'm not the only person scared of unveiling my bride on my wedding day only to be confronted by the widow's peak and chiselled cheekbones of David Furnish staring back at me. My concerns are shared by Peter Bone MP, who recently described the government's plans for gay marriage as "completely nuts". Bone, gay, nuts… if there's a joke hiding there it would take a funnier man than me to find it.
Marriage is a sacred institution, these men argue, and we must protect it. No doubt the insidious gay overlords have a plan to infiltrate marriage and destroy it from the inside, just like they've already done with the education system and West End musicals. But if marriage is under such attack, I wonder if stopping gay marriage is enough. The biggest threat to marriage in the UK is by far divorce, responsible for destroying 30% of marriages between 1995 and 2010. Gay people, conversely, only managed to destroy a handful of isolated rural marriages, many of which were insured.
Banning divorce would not only save a great many marriages, it would also provide valuable peace of mind to insecure people like me. Imagine going through the rigmarole of capturing yourself a wife, only for her to be legally allowed to escape at a moment's notice. Hardly the secure emotional bedrock required for a stable long-term relationship. And if we're trying to spare children from the mental anguish of having two loving parents who happen to be the same sex, as the good cardinal suggested, maybe we should just ban children altogether and spare them the anguish of existing. That'll teach the little shits a lesson.
Alas, the homophobic, retrograde views of Peter "Gay Nuts" Bone MP and his Catholic contemporaries are not shared by most of our politicians. David Cameron has thrown his full support behind gay marriage and even offered to have full-on anal sex with a man live on ITV2 (his offer was declined by the gay community). Meanwhile, gay rights activists march on Whitehall, sacking churches and defiling Christian-owned B&Bs as they go.
The battle against gay marriage seems lost before it has even fully begun. I lie awake at night, eyes wide open, nursing the terrifying thought that the vacant space in my bed will soon be filled by a muscular man-wife due to a combination of my sexual incompetence and permissive legislation. At the very least, I hope that the victorious gays elect to keep the 'gay' prefix when referring to their twisted version of marriage. Otherwise I fear the resulting confusion would be too great for anyone to bear.
© The Natflap 2005 - 2013.