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An old Yahoo profile prompted a local guy to send me an email. He said he like my attitude towards religion. Terry, as Iíll call him, said he was gay and sixteen and asked me to write back if his age wasnít an issue.
My own atheism had just started redefining my relationship with the universe about sixteen, couldnít think of a reason not to reply.
In email number two Terry confess that he was looking for a ďman/boyĒ relationship. When I see ďman/boyĒ my first thought is of the poor twits at NAMBLA. Iím keenly sensible of the beauty of beardless boys (was Bunyan the first to use that phrase?). But I canít help but think the Namblans lofty chatter about ageism is just a self-deluding ploy to ennoble their appetite for boy flesh. As a gay man it is impossible to not regret their reinforcement of the het majorityís most invidious images of gay sexuality.
Since sexual preference is ineluctable (except maybe for me) I do feel sorry for pedophiles. Fags life myself are in an age of grudging tolerance. Canít imagine a society evolving thatíll offer sympathy much less permission to men who love boys.
So I wrote Terry to point out that anyone foolish enough to hook up with him was only inviting damnation. The detestable recovered memory movement ushered in a deeper terror of pedophilia than ever before. Throw in the horny priests and you have hot, bubbling hate.
Terry replied to say that prudential cunning would make everything safe. I used to hang out with crooks. Careful planning never caught every possible flaw. Imagine, say, that the man he slept with hurt young Terryís feelings. A passing rage could destroy the manís life.
So I responded amplifying my arguments. Terry never replied.
Back when I was first out I knew lots of promiscuous boys between fifteen and the age of consent. One of the artifacts of the modern extension of childhood is a young manís lust canít legally be satisfied at a reasonable age. If he were a straight boy he could find a complaisant girl and even if they were caught thereíd be annoying but harmless fuss. If he were drawn to boys his own age, well there are lots of possibilities, but the results of being found out wouldnít compare to momma finding out her boy had been recruited by an adult sodomite.
Why, you ask, did I answer Terryís emails?
Curiosity. I edited my Yahoo profiles to say ďMarried and not looking.Ē I couldnít help but wonder if Terry was pretending to be young hoping to get titillating email. Or some pest seeking out perverts to expose.
And many of the guys that Iíve slept with suffered for their sexuality when they were young. I was lucky enough to come out after Stonewall. Iíve never been humble enough to care about the opinions others might have of me (with a couple of exceptions, but revered friends donít count). And I canít perceive of notion of erotic evil anymore than I can nigger or kike. Another reason to put a bullet through the collective mind of the human race.
But mostly because I feel a debt to boys Iíve held in my arms. A debt of my own imagining? Sure. But Iím the only master of my own moral exchequer.
It doesnít matter if Terry was really a young gay man, cop or pervert.
Iíve been listening to Prince as I type this. He had a real knack for making heterosexuality appealing.