It started, as so many human rights disasters do, in the name of love. It was commonplace in the antebellum Americas to hear of plantation owners expressing love for their slaves. Even Frederick Douglass admits that many times slaves, while alone, vied to see who could praise his master the highest. Did not Robespierre begin with love for his countrymen? For that matter, didn’t Castro?
History repeats. The movement to liberate same-sex love began because people loved each other. Somehow, through convoluted digressions, it has become a tyrannical octopus seeking to control life and death itself.
The Rubicon was crossed when the gay movement sided with human trafficking; graft-ridden dirty deals with warlords for orphanages; bio-engineering, baby-farming, and emotional deprivation of innocent children by forcing them to replace a biological parent with a fictional same-sex partner. Naturally, any child forced into such a psychically traumatic origin fantasy who feels resentful about it will be cursed by its caretakers as not only ungrateful, but also a homophobe.