Billy Goats Gruff
Well, it had to happen.
I've lived in fear of it for years.
I somehow knew that someday, some young person would look me squarely in the eyes, purse up their lips in disgust, haul off and call me a troll.
And not only a troll, but "the worst kind of troll there is"!
I'm not exactly sure what that kind of troll might be. I wasn't aware of the subtle levels and gradations of said trolls. But to be branded the worst kind? Wow.
I'm real tired of being insulted and stepped on by religious zealots who, in their private lives, are doing things that would probably make me blush. And I'm ready and willing to support anyone who comes out swinging against them. This is guaranteed not a make that person particularly popular in places that are situated some distance away from major bodies of water. To me, what Mike Jones did was heroic. And here's what happened:
- Lots of young gay men called him old and ugly;
- No major gay-supported organizations (hint: HRC) have even acknowledged his small but potent role in last week's election;
- He probably stands a very good chance of losing whatever legitimate employment he does have;
- He's being cast as a pariah by many in his own so-called community.
When I've objected to any of this, I've been told to lighten up, develop a sense of humor, and now, I've been called a troll because I suggested that if you wanted to donate you should, and if you didn't, well then, did we have to hear that "hooker/crystal/poor Mrs. Haggard" diatribe again.
Oh yeah. Then I was told to shut up.
By an ex-blogger who has a photograph of young things toasting each other with jello shots on his page.
Thanks, Toby...you got me blogging again.
P.S. If you too feel so inclined, hit up Paypal, enter Mr. Jone's account (firstname.lastname@example.org), and show some love.