It has been some time since I’ve written you back and so I thought I’d post my response here, on the Internet, for all to see my shame at being a terrible corresponder. My friend Kristiina called me on Valentine’s Day and I promised to call her back. I’m still planning on it. I have a note somewhere to remind me. I just get behind on account of the working and the sleeping and the video games. I’m sorry about the late reply, that’s all …

Those Texans love their irrational jackasses.
Deborah Solomon interviews Texas Governor Rick Perry:
Let’s talk about your new book, “On My Honor,” which draws on your experience as an Eagle Scout and champions the values of the Boy Scouts of America, to whom you are donating your royalties. Yes, to their legal-defense fund.
Which has been fighting the A.C.L.U., to keep gays out of the scouts. Why do you see that as a worthy cause? I am pretty clear about this one. Scouting ought to be about …

I don’t want to join the military – I never have. I know that there are plenty of other gays who do, though, and I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. People who are against it seem to think that gays enter the military for the dating scene. Seriously?
Our local paper recently had a column on this subject, and I didn’t read it. I wasn’t interested in that. I was, however, interested in the ways homophobic people would try to ram their points across …

I grew up in a Catholic household and spent my formative years in a Catholic grade school complete with ugly plaid uniforms and regular trips to church. As a family, we went to mass on a near-weekly basis until I was in sixth grade. It was then that my parents insisted my sister and I continue on to church while they stayed home sleeping in, eating breakfast and reading the paper. Instead we would sneak to Winchell’s for donuts and then swing by the church just long …

A little over three years ago I wrote my parents a letter telling them I was gay. My friends and I referred to it as The Letter and we set a deadline for delivery of The Letter and referred to it as The Deadline. Well, The Deadline passed and The Letter hadn’t been sent as planned and I spent another year in bi-weekly therapy contemplating the unknowable circumstances that may arise from actually sending The Letter to The Parents. My therapist assured me, and said I would …