I know, I know. . .

I haven't posted in a couple of days. Chalk it up to the most annoying week in the history of Western civilization -- I finally just pooped out. I managed not to finish a single writing project yesterday, although I started several.

It was that kind of day.

However, I ran across something in passing at Pam's House Blend that made me think a bit. It's a post by The Author on those pre-medieval minds at Manifest Glory Ministries who tried to exorcise "the homosexual demons" from a sixteen-year-old boy.

I don't think I really need to comment on that, except to point out that the pastor and congregation appear to be a few centuries behind the rest of the world. (By the way, the boy, according to the blogosphere, is now attending an LGBT-affirming church.)

This comment made me stop:

I'm not even going to answer that silliness except for to say that not all gay pride parades are the same. Down here in South Carolina, our events are extremely family-friendly.

I'm not sure what that means. I was on a float a couple of years running, and there are lots of families in the audience here in Chicago. Most of them are straight. And all of them are cheering, the leatherfolk and dancers no less than the politicians. (Actually, for the dancers, probably more.) I suspect that "family friendly" doesn't mean the same thing in Chicago that it does on South Carolina. In fact, I'm sure of it.

I've commented on Pride Parades and their context before (here and here), but just want to restate it once again for those who have internalized their closets: It's our parade. It's not James Dobson's parade, it's not Barack Obama's parade, it's not Middle America's parade. It's our parade, with all the color, vitality, and in-your-face outrageousness that are the gay community. If it bothers you, stay home.

And, come to think of it, today is Parade day in Chicago. I'm probably not going to go -- those pesky writing projects, which do need to be finished tout suite. And I'm not really in the mood, although if I didn't have to work tomorrow I might be tempted to go out and tie one on. After this week, that might be the best course.

But no. I'm going to be responsible.

I hate myself sometimes.