There was a time, not so very long ago, when the caveman homophobic views of a sports figure who has spent his life showering with other naked sports figures would have filled me with indignant rage and made me question the roots of his homophobic stance as being typical. While I dissected his denials as overt signs of questioning that which bubbled beneath the certainty of his proud, heterosexual identity.
And what an arrogant FAG I'd be to impose my scarcely scholarly presumptions about his inner drives from a few bombastic and ill considered comments. I'm ALMOST sure he's really straight - so he would argue at least. Though it has been my experience that we truly fear the things we can't help but become. Our parents for instance. We resist them even as we become the parts of them we hate. How similar for the homophobic. "Me thinks (he) she doth protest to much."
But who am I? Only someone comfortable with the hand I've been dealt by God/Nature.
So much hate. So difficult the fight. So frightened the combatant.
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