Christian Haterade

I hallucinated picketers outside Planned Parenthood on my way to work this morning. They were robed in rags and scarecrow hair, three vagrants holding cardboard signs written in an alien language.

Later in the day, I found a beautiful hardcover book about the hippie generation. I would have a zero-tolerance policy for naked females riding my shoulders at a concert. I can't believe how many men were willing to have all those bare, bushy labium wrapped around the backs of their necks like feeding animals.

The book was abundant with protests. Middle-aged parents marching in support of their gay children, holding signs like, "I will not be a closet mom." A plump man in a business suit, "I am proud of my gay son." There were photos of the women's liberation protests at the '68 and '69 Miss America Pageants. Racial equality protests. A profusion of protests to end the war.

Things are different now. It seems the majority of protests in this nation are hags and fundamentalists taking a piss on the things I thought were no-brainers in Now, The Future: GLBT rights, and a woman's right to decide her body's fate. What the fuck happened to us?