Prop. 8: A step in the right direction

It was Christmas Eve 2008, exactly one month and 20 days after California passed a constitutional amendment defining marriage as being “Between one man and one woman.” That night, the ravenous undead emerged from their graves to march through malls, universities and entire cities. Cars, wreathed in flames, spiraled over an I-45 billboard with the words “Prop eight. Too little. Too late,” painted in bleeding, red letters.

A father and his son staggered into their city’s town hall. The rotunda was divided in two groups by a suicidal mayor’s corpse. One group held signs reading, “Gay rights, right now!” while the other side read “Preserve the sanctity of marriage.”

The father tried to get the attention of the crowd, but was drowned out by the debate over who started the apocalypse.

The small boy approached the gay rights supporter and asked, “How did you fight for civil liberty?”

“I created the “Official Prop-8 Sucks Group” on Facebook. Over 100 people joined.”

The boy then asked the other side, “Why do you oppose gay marriage?”

“We don’t hate homosexuals and we support their rights, but marriage is a sacred union between one man and one woman.”

“What did you do for a living?”

“Divorce lawyer.”

The boy became livid, “That was a religious right problem. You proclaimed to protect marriage by legislating against homosexual rights, but were more than permissive of legal divorce, birth control, and premarital sex.

“If a patient is dying of cancer, you can’t just treat a skin rash.”

The opposite side celebrated the attacks levied against the ignorant evangelicals.

Then the boy’s judgment turned to the gay rights supporters. “Your complacency is just as blameworthy. Where are the Democrats who once championed civil rights? Facebook petitions and unread blogs have replaced civil disobedience and protest rallies.

“You assumed that the few and hard earned civil rights earned in the past extinguished all intolerance. If anything we did started this Armageddon, it was a lack of conviction.”

The boy’s rattling went unheard by the madding crowd. Their current plight was a secondary concern to its cause. Starvation would occur long before the debate was settled, but for an interruption.

The domed roof cracked back like a beer stein lid and a blinding light filled the room. Heavenly trumpets silenced the refugees, and the Voice of God said, “You are my children, whom I love; with you I am displeased.”

“Who damned us, God? Was it the gays, or the evangelicals?” the boy asked.

And the Voice of God replied . . . .

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