Peter Martin: Defense of marriage law is not anti-gay
Bigoted, weak-minded, chickens. Mean spirited, hateful, malicious, Nazis. The majority of us in southeastern Minnesota have been labeled as such in the past few weeks.
Why?
Because we support marriage as it always has been. We recognize that marriage between a man and a woman is what is best for society. Even if we didn’t have the psychological studies to back us up, it’s common sense that a child needs a father and a mother.
And to call us anti-gay?
We have no hatred here. We’re not taking away anyone’s rights. People with same-sex attractions are our sisters and brothers. They should not be deprived of their authentic human rights, including the most fundamental rights of all — the right to life and the right to love. However, meeting authentic human needs does not require changing society’s definition of marriage.
Nope, last I checked, we’re still Minnesota nice — and we’d like to keep it that way.
H/T and emailed to me by the Author. On a side note, if you read the comments attached to this article you will find the same old tired retorts one would expect. One person wrote -
".......Aside from that, what is this "common sense" thing Peter speaks of? Common to whom? Where does it come from? Are we born with certain knowledge pre-installed like a "new" computer?........"
YEAH - It is called NATURAL LAW. The rational these people come up with...its hard for a thinking person to process. I mean really, do they think about what they say, do they take any time to actually read or study the research that has been professionally done that proves a child is best with a Mother and a Father. Come on....STOP living off your emotions like a 5 year old and do some grown up thinking. Their arguments remind me of a movie I saw and logic that was used by a character in said movie. The movie was well produced, morally it was a disaster, but nonetheless .............
"Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a sh*t. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the a**. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his a** got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fu*k*n' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the fu*k*n' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his a** is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fu*k it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president."
Here endith the rant. C YA......wait.....
- don't club the baby seal...abort your baby.....but don't touch the SEAL.
Mandatum
6 months ago
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