The man who helped tear down the Iron Curtain is now talking about building walls. Nice.

The devout Catholic's words caused an uproar in Poland, but Walesa said this week he won't apologize. Yesterday Poland's first gay lawmaker, Robert Biedron, and first transgender lawmaker, Anna Grodzka, protested Walesa's comments by sitting on the front bench of the Polish parliament's lower house.

They protested with their posteriors.

I was thinking about Poland's well-known homophobia yesterday when I read a story in The Seattle Times that included a mention of Margo Dydek, the late Polish basketball player. When Dydek played for the WNBA's Salt Lake City franchise, she attended Pride in that city.

She wasn't a lesbian. She just wanted to show her support. Standing 7 feet 2 inches tall, she showed a heck of a lot of support.

She stood tall - very tall - for gay rights, while Walesa's stature is shrinking. The two are Poles apart.

In his inaugural address, President Obama actually mentioned gay people, which has never happened before. He called for marriage equality, and linked Stonewall with Seneca Falls and Selma. Immediately historians began debating why pivotal events in American civil-rights history all start with "S."

Openly gay Richard Blanco delivered the inaugural poem, the Rev. Luis Leon offered a gay-affirming inaugural benediction, the Lesbian and Gay Band Association performed in the inaugural parade and for the first time openly gay and lesbian service members took their same-sex partners to the military's inaugural ball. No wonder Justice Antonin Scalia wore a replica of St. Thomas More's hat to the Inauguration - he needed a saintly presence to help him get through it.

A Boy Scouts of America spokesman said the group is considering lifting its infamous and longstanding ban on gay members. A couple of Girl Scouts were heard to say, "Get on with it, you weenies!"

Director/actress Jodie Foster gave a speech at the Golden Globes in which she came out and retired. Or not.

Actor Jim Nabors, aka Gomer Pyle, married his partner of 38 years, Stan Cadwallader. The duo traveled from their home in Hawaii to Seattle to do the legal deed. Until now, Nabors was never publicly out, but rumors have swirled around him since the French and Indian War.

In an interview, Sen. Rand Paul, Republican of Tennessee, said he doesn't understand same-sex marriage. That's fair, since same-sex marriage doesn't understand him either.

(January 2013 graphic via Bigstock)

We hadn't had marriage equality a week in Washington, and my theoretical wedding was already busting the budget.

Some of the gay couples were giddy. One guy chirped to a lesbian, "I'll invite you to my mine if you'll invite me to yours!"

I guess I was on the giddy side, too. I warned a straight man that he and his fiancée now officially had competition for the chapel and the minister.

Somebody suggested that, with the new glut of couples wanting to marry, the church should put in a bidding system for the choicest days. I like that this would earn the church more money, but I don't like that this could result in Anne and me getting married on a Tuesday morning in February.

Before the election, I didn't allow myself to think about wedding particulars, no doubt steeling myself for possible defeat. Now that we've won, I... have a lot to think about.

So do others. Another gal in our church has been with her partner for decades, and they had no plans to marry. But now their children and grandchildren are putting pressure on them to get legally hitched.

Welcome to the mainstream.

I predict an uptick in the number of gay men taking an interest in boxing.

According to USA Today, Cruz said yesterday:

I've been fighting for more than 24 years and as I continue my ascendant career, I want to be true to myself.

I want to try to be the best role model I can be for kids who might look into boxing as a sport and a professional career. I have and will always be a proud Puerto Rican. I have always been and always will be a proud gay man.

USA Today noted that welterweight and middleweight champion Emile Griffith, who fought in the '50s and '60s, came out as bisexual after his career was over, but now we have a fighter coming out at the top of his game.

Cruz is the No. 4-ranked featherweight by the World Boxing Organization. A featherweight, by the way, weighs 126 pounds, I looked it up for you.

I can only imagine what fighting will be like for Cruz from now on. He might be a better boxer, having freed himself from the yoke of his secret. But his opponents might well feel extra incentive to pummel him into mashed potatoes.

And the things they may say to him when they're in a clinch. Stuff like

You're gonna die, faggot!

Get your maricon hands off me!

Although Cruz might also hear

I know this great bar. Wanna go when we're done?

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Today the City Council of Austin unanimously passed a resolution in support of same-sex marriage, making the capital city the first in Texas to take such a step.

Texas has a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage and civil unions, so the Austin vote doesn't have much practical effect, but it does send a message that things are changing, even in the Lone Star State.

We keep you now in Austin, Texas, for some bad news.

Last Friday, during Austin Pride, Nick Soret was ordering pizza from a food truck when another patron repeatedly yelled at him, "What are you looking at?" The guy attacked Soret, so his friend Andrew Oppleman intervened, and got the crap beaten out of him.

That's the latest from Texas, where you win some, and you lose six teeth.

Hurricane Isaac, like Hurricane Katrina seven years ago, is our fault. Defend & Proclaim The Faith's Pastor John McTernan blogged, "The hurricane is scheduled to hit the New Orleans area on Wednesday, August 29 which is the beginning of an annual homosexual event in New Orleans called 'Southern Decadence.'"

McTernan wrote of his amazement that Isaac was due to hit seven years to the day after Katrina. Seven is a Biblical significant number, after all. He averred, "The church, city and nation have not repented and the homosexual agenda is far worse than it was in 2005."

I didn't know our agenda had worsened. Why does nobody tell me these things?

"New Orleans is still hosting Southern Decadence with open homosexuality manifesting in the streets of the city. It could be that God is putting an end to this city and its wickedness. The timing of Hurricane Isaac with Southern Decadence is a sign that God's patience with America's sin is coming to an end."

Or else it's a sign that the planners of Southern Decadence need to move it the hell out of hurricane season.

Speaking on radio, Buster Wilson of the American Family Association brought up Southern Decadence and said that hurricanes in New Orleans, as well as earthquakes in San Francisco, do "fit a pattern that there is an abundance of in the Scripture."

Americans must stop "wagging our fist in God's face," Wilson said. Or God will flatten American cities and turn us all into canisters of Morton table salt.

(Hurricane graphic via Bigstock)

On the chance you're still with me, the very first entry in the book proved that what I learned about Greek mythology in school was not the whole story.

Achilles, considered the greatest Greek warrior, was also a moody fellow. Rather than join the other Greeks fighting the Trojans, he hung out in his tent. "But Achilles was roused to action," writes Cotterell, "by the death of Patroclus, his squire and lover."

News to me, by Zeus!

Hector, the Trojan who killed Achilles' boyfriend, knew he was in trouble. He asked Achilles to treat his body with respect should he be killed. Achilles uttered the Greek equivalent of "No way, Jose," slew Hector with a spear, and dragged his body around the tomb of Patroclus for twelve days.

Only Achilles' mother, Thetis the sea nymph, could persuade him to stop mutilating the corpse. Heeding a sea nymph seems like a wise policy to me.

(Achilles bust via Bigstock)

But even more than that happened. Near the end of the two weeks, as Anne and I sat on the grass outside Provincetown's town hall, eating linguica and egg sandwiches and fried dough, we talked about our future.

Anyone who eats such a meal regularly would have no future, but we were on vacation. Just ask the lobsters.

By the end of our conversation, I reached the decision I've been sneaking up on for a while now. It's time for me to make a change. It's time for me to stop writing my newspaper column.

I've been hammering out General Gayety for a dozen years or so. When I began, Vermont was putting in place the nation's first civil unions, which resulted in acrimony not seen in Vermont since Ben called Jerry a Chunky Monkey.

That's social change moving at Mach speed.

I've written about the landmark Lawrence v Texas decision, the death of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, the world's first openly lesbian prime minister, and LGBT teens with more leadership ability than George W. Bush ever thought of.

I've also written about corrective rape in South Africa, gay domestic violence, murderous homophobia, and fundamentalists blaming us for everything from 9/11 to cellulite.

During this period, I've seen a lot of gay newspapers come and go - mostly go - and the explosion of online LGBT outlets. Now major online purveyors of LGBT news speak of their wobbliness. Place your bets now, ladies and gentlemen, on the future of gay journalism.

For all the difficulties inherent in writing for gay publications - like low pay, low pay, and low pay - it's one of the best things I've done. Writing General Gayety allowed me to combine my love of humor with my commitment to the LGBT cause.

I extend my thanks to the editors and publishers from Charlotte to San Diego, Detroit to Dallas, Seattle to Philadelphia, who have run my column in their pages. And I thank the readers from around the country and around the world who have let me know what they thought of my work.

I even thank the homophobes who saw fit to drop me a line. Their venom provided me with column fodder. Really quite thoughtful of them.

I'm not disappearing completely. Because so much is always happening in the LGBT sphere, I might find I simply have to write a column now and then. It's a release for me. Beats exercise.

But mainly I intend to focus on two areas. The first is blogging. My site is a home for LGBT humor, so it now carries forward the "General Gayety" name. The blog is chock-full of cartoons, videos, photos that I don't create - for which we can all be grateful - along with posts that I write. Dropping the column will allow me, perversely, to write more often and address issues more quickly in the form of pithy posts.

My second aim is to write a book. It won't be a gay book, but I'll sure enough be coming out in it - as a person with OCD.

That's my version of coming out as a never-ending exercise.

So wish me luck and strength, and I wish the same for you.

(Resignation graphic via Bigstock)

Over the next years, Elizabeth and I walked regularly around Green Lake in Seattle, parsing her lesbian adolescence. That adolescence is complete, but we still walk the lake. Last night she told me about her cousin who's now coming out, and filling Elizabeth in on every wobbly step. The rookie lesbian has become the coach.

Elizabeth couldn't have imagined herself being able to advise anyone on dykedom during our early strolls. At that time her new experiences were thrilling, confusing, terrifying, exasperating and liberating. All before lunch.

Having been only with men, Elizabeth found herself going through a second adolescence 15 years after her first. So we had a lot of ground to cover, ranging from the evolving reactions of her family to her yearning for her girlfriend in California to the hot guest lecturer in class.

Although she developed crushes as easily as she flossed her teeth, she never acted on them. Her heart lay with Ann in San Diego. One sure way to get a rise out of Elizabeth was to mention that first lesbian relationships rarely last. "I know!" she'd bark. "I wish people would stop telling me that!"

Maintaining a long-distance relationship is difficult at any time, let alone when you're in your lesbian adolescence and anyone with a Sapphic sensibility looks lip-smackin' good. It's a testament to Elizabeth and Ann that they both avoided distractions and honed in on what was most important to them, namely each other.

I must note that Elizabeth found a vicarious way of getting her ya-yas out: setting me up. When she would begin our walk by announcing, "I found your wife today!" I knew I was headed for another misadventure in lesbian dating. Back then she hadn't grasped that pairing two lesbians on the basis that they're both breathing does not a sizzling Sapphic romance make.

Now Elizabeth's cousin Claire, at age 40, is being bombarded by emotions and discoveries, which she shares with Elizabeth via the phone. The other evening Elizabeth delayed a dinner meeting so Claire, who's just gotten involved, could read a note from her new love aloud - six times.

Elizabeth pulled from her shelves books she'd bought in her early days, and sent a sort of lesbian care package to Claire. The stories of first lesbian loves particularly resonate with this family member who's gleefully gathering material for her own story.

Elizabeth is elated that her cousin is so happy. But now that Elizabeth is the coach and not the rookie, she says to me, "I can't believe how much crap you listened to!"

She didn't want me to include those words here, fearing they could hurt Claire. But I bet that soon enough Claire will get it, and say of her own lesbian adolescence, "I was a mess. And it was wonderful."

When she reaches that point, Claire will be in coaching shape. Then she too might gay it forward.

(Lesbian couple image via Bigstock)

Until his recent death just shy of his 89th birthday, Beck was the last known gay Jewish survivor of the Holocaust. Also a resistance fighter, Beck's experiences during World War II were such that he quipped, "Only Steven Spielberg can film my life - forgive me, forgive me."

He's forgiven. Because he's right.

Consider his attempt to rescue his Jewish boyfriend. According to Wikipedia, Beck donned a Hitler Youth uniform and entered a deportation center to free Manfred Lewin.

Thereby setting a ridiculously high bar for standing by your man.

When they got outside, though, Lewin said, "Gad, I can't go with you. My family needs me. If I abandon them now, I could never be free."

The two parted, not saying goodbye. "In those seconds, watching him go, I grew up," recalled Beck.

If you're weepy already, don't read the next sentence. Lewin and his whole family perished at Auschwitz. I warned you.

Beck's father was Jewish, and his mother converted to Judaism. Under the Nazi racial laws, Beck was a half-breed, and he and his father landed in a holding compound on the Rosenstrasse in Berlin. He was released after the non-Jewish wives of inmates protested in the street.

They set a pretty high bar, too.

Beck learned from those women. He said, reported The Jerusalem Post, "The Rosenstrasse event made one thing absolutely clear to me: I won't wait until we get deported."

He joined a resistance youth group, and helped Jews in Berlin survive. Beck noted that "as a homosexual, I was able to turn to my trusted non-Jewish, homosexual acquaintances to help supply food and hiding places."

It helps to have friends in homo places.

A Jewish spy working for the Gestapo betrayed Beck shortly before the war ended, and he was held at a Jewish transit camp. After the war, he assisted Jews emigrating to Palestine, and he himself lived in Israel from 1947 until 1979, when he returned to Germany.

I don't know why he returned. But at his death he was survived by Julius Laufer, his partner of 35 years, which means the two men got together in 1977, two years before Beck went back to Europe. It would be gratifying to think he returned to Germany for love, considering he left it for the opposite reason.

But if he returned just because he missed the beer, that's okay, too.

As the director of the Jewish Adult Education Center in Berlin, Beck organized gatherings of gay singles at the center. "He was open, sweet and would speak with everybody," said the editor of Berlin's Jewish magazine, who also recalled Beck's fondness for waving the Israeli flag at Berlin's annual Pride parade.

He sounds like the kind of guy you'd want to have at a party. If he could keep the flag-waving to a minimum.

Beck's heart-centeredness combined with a notable wit. On a German talk show, he said, "The Americans in New York called me a great hero. I said no... I'm really a little hero."

Of his life as a homosexual Jew, Beck averred, "God doesn't punish for a life of love." He wasn't the first to say that, and he won't be the last, but it's tough to imagine the line suiting anyone better.

That sounds sensible. I just can't do it.

The truth is I find Fred Phelps and his congregation fascinating. I get that they're among the world's biggest media whores - they could even give Donald Trump pointers - and will push any boundary for attention. Yet they still manage to surprise me - like just recently, when they journeyed to North Carolina.

Since Westboro's religious creed is God Hates Fags, and since North Carolina passed the anti-gay Amendment One, a person might assume the Phelpsians visited the Tar Heel State simply to sniff the heady air of bigotry victorious.

That's not the Westboro way. North Carolinians don't want gays to marry; Westboro members don't want gays to live.

See, fascinating.

The elder statesman of Christian evangelism a friend of gays? Right. And Billy's son and heir Franklin is a part-time imam.

While Graham has taken fewer political stances in his career than, say, Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson, he jumped into the Amendment One battle.

"At 93, I never thought we would have to debate the definition of marriage," Graham wrote in an ad that ran in newspapers around North Carolina. "The Bible is clear - God's definition of marriage is between a man and a woman. I want to urge my fellow North Carolinians to vote FOR the marriage amendment on Tuesday, May 8."

Yup, he's on our side, all right. Downright ready to head up a PFLAG chapter.

So why, if Westboro and Graham are anti-gay bedfellows, did the Phelpsians protest Graham? Because the reverend isn't anti-gay enough. Westboro has high standards.

About a dozen church members picketed the Billy Graham Library in Charlotte and other Graham-centric locations. On Westboro's website, according to WBTV, the church said Graham should use his influence to tell the world "it's not okay to be a fag, it's not okay to divorce and remarry, it's not okay to fornicate, it's not okay to kill your babies."

The man is 93. How can he be expected to remember all that?

Protester Paulette Phelps told the Asheville Citizen-Times that Graham cares more for money and power than preaching God's truth. "The true Gospel says if you don't obey, you're going to perish. There are consequences for not obeying. Homosexuality is all bad, all day."

She makes it sound like a radio format.

Either Paulette or another Phelps - because most church members are related - held a sign reading "God H8S Billy's Cow."

I was baffled as to why God would hate dairy products, unless he's lactose intolerant, but it turned out that a "talking" cow offers stories and songs to young library visitors.

All part of Graham's money-grubbing, claimed the Phelpsians, who asked, "How many children can you lead to Satan through Bessie the talking cow?"

I guess that depends on the quality of Bessie's stories and songs.

Only after I'd ruminated over Westboro's attack on Billy Graham did I remember that this isn't the first time the cult has targeted a prominent evangelical. In 2007, these folks protested at Jerry Falwell's funeral, in part because of Falwell's warmth toward gays.

Yes, Falwell adored us.

How could I forget they protested him? Because their reasoning is so bizarre I can barely wrap my mind around it. But I won't forget again.

When Pat Robertson dies, I'll expect the Phelpsians to picket his funeral - since Robertson has always overflowed with love for gay people.

What the world hasn't heard is an equivalent rant from the other side. Time to change that. What follows is a sermon I've whipped up for use by any Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) pastor.

Friends, in the time allotted to me this morning I'm going to preach on an uncomfortable subject. It's something we don't want to think about, let alone talk about. But I would be abandoning my duty as your spiritual shepherd if I didn't face it head on.

Go in peace. Amen.

Image Source: Bigstockphoto.com

But last week I managed to scan a couple of issues, and there in my old-fashioned newspaper were distinctly modern morsels. These items treated gays not as criminals or political footballs, but as members of society.

Somewhere William Randolph Hearst is asking, "What fun is that?"

Monday's local section of The Seattle Times included the headline "Being Themselves at the 'Pink Prom,'" and two photos from the weekend event.

The top picture's extended caption began, "'Vnitii Fair,' or Barry Caadan, 22, of Seattle, helps put a necklace on 'Isis,' or Zac Burr, 19, of Marysville."

Marysville is about 30 miles north of Seattle. I'm guessing the phone lines in that small city are still burning.

After explaining the prom is for "lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth," the caption noted how long the two have been doing drag, and that Burr performed in a show for the first time that morning.

"I like making new friends, and I love feeling beautiful," Burr said.

Perhaps in the period since these pictures ran a fence has gone up around Marysville to keep Burr in. Or out.

Some of us might quibble that only female pronouns should've been applied to the drag queens in the caption. Maybe, but not long ago we'd have counted ourselves lucky that the newspaper didn't use "it."

In Thursday's paper I spotted a double helping of respect. The lead story in the sports section was a preview of the Seattle Storm, as the women's hoop team starts the WNBA season. The Times included factoids about each player, and the info on new Belgian center Ann Wauters amounted to a lesbian full-court press.

Wauters "enjoyed being pregnant simultaneously with her partner, giving birth to her son, Vince, on June 1, 2011. Legally married in Belgium, her wife's daughter, Lou, was born May 12, 2011."

Wonderful. Honest. But to a homophobe, that description is one very offensive foul. Such a person wishes for safer offerings from a newspaper, like, "Wauters enjoys watching soccer and her favorite food is Fruity Pebbles."

If that person threw down the sports section in disgust and headed for the fun parts of the paper in search of relief, he got another jolt. Next to the comics and under the horoscopes, the advice columnist answered a question from two lesbian mothers.

Between that and the sports blurb, my horoscope should've said, "Observe how things tilt to your advantage today. Avoid beets."

The woman who wrote to "Ask Amy" said she and her partner have two young daughters. Her partner talks often about losing weight and diets, while she doesn't. "Body image has been such a painful issue for both of us. I don't want to pass that on to our daughters in this already diet/body image-obsessed world," she wrote.

Amy dispensed respectful advice to the parents that they should get in sync, see a nutritionist, involve the kids in food prep, never criticize anyone's body in front of the children and perform other miracles.

It was the same advice she'd have given straight parents. Unlike the pink-prom photos or the Storm blurb, this advice column is syndicated, so LGBTQ people around the country read it that day and saw true equality - the chance to be screwed up on an equal basis.

"People around the country are watching us, and they're really confused, to have been such a progressive, forward-thinking, economically driven state that invested in education and that stood up for the civil rights of people including the civil rights marches back in the 50's and 60's and 70's. Folks are saying what in the world is going on with North Carolina, we look like Mississippi."

To which Mississippi replied, "Those are fighting words. North Carolina can only dream of being as backward as we are."

The first woman went to court to fight for sperm ownership, and recently a judge ruled the women should divide the sperm, just as they had everything else.

Let's listen in as two figures directly involved in the case react to the decision.

Ernie: Finally.

Harold: Yes, all this waiting around was getting me down. I think I was even losing my will to swim.

Ernie: Don't worry, boy. Soon as they unfreeze us, you'll be off like a shot.

Harold: I do hope so. I hope my tail feathers remember which way to go.

Ernie: They will, but I gotta tell you, once we're let loose, it's every gamete for himself. I'm on a mission.

Harold: Roger that, Rambo. Isn't it amazing, Ernie, the path we've traveled? Why, we were brought into this world during the last millennium!

Ernie: By a guy with a dirty magazine.

Ernie: A decent check for him.

Harold: Well, it beat landing on his sheets. Death by Clorox.

Ernie: Yeah.

Harold: We were transported in regal style, moved from the U.S. to Canada. We're world travelers, Ernie!

Ernie: I suppose.

Harold: Set up in lovely Vancouver. Then the moment of truth. Our brethren got one of those women pregnant. Two years later, her partner was pregnant, too. We're small, but mighty. And then . . .

Ernie: . . . they forgot us. That's gratitude for you. Left us here to freeze our flagella off.

Harold: It is kind of hard to figure out how they forgot about 13 tubes of us. But the whole drama brought us before--metaphorically speaking--a British Columbia Supreme Court justice, so I feel pretty special.

Ernie: You won't feel special if we wind up with the gal who wants to flush us down the john.

Harold: I choose to believe we're going with the other woman, the one who wants to get pregnant again. And for her I promise to swim like Mark Spitz.

Ernie: She sure as heck went through a lot to get us back. You know why, don't you?

Harold: Because we make children who are smart, beautiful and not allergic to peanuts?

Ernie: Because she wants the biological connection to her other child, and our guy isn't making any more donations.

Harold: He's retired?

Ernie: If I know him, his hand won't stop till his heart does, but he's not doing it for pay anymore.

Harold: Wow. We really are special. The last in a glorious line. At the very least, a fertile one.

Ernie: Some people, you know, say the judge is whacky to think of us as property and divide us. They say there's a moral issue. I say I don't freaking care. Just get me out of this sperm bank! Get me unfrozen! I have places to go and people to impregnate!

Harold: Right, Ernie! Absolutely! Get us out of this vial and into a turkey baster like nature intended!

(Sperm clipart via Bigstock)

Last month Brown testified at an Omaha City Council hearing against an ordinance protecting LGBT people from discrimination.

"The question I have for you all is, like Pontius Pilate, what are you going to do with Jesus?" he asked. "Ultimately, if you don't have a relationship with him, and you don't really have a Bible-believing mentality, really, anything goes... At the end of the day it matters what God thinks most."

God might've rolled his eyes that Brown gave his address at Memorial Stadium in Lincoln. I know I did.

Barbara Baier, who sits on the Lincoln Board of Education, was peeved. She wrote to the university asking the coach be fired, noting the university has a non-discrimination policy that includes sexual orientation, and that Brown creates a dismal atmosphere for gay student-athletes.

Brown is feeling cozy and warm in a martyr's mantle. "To be fired for my faith would be a greater honor than to be fired because we didn't win enough games," Brown told The Associated Press. "I haven't lost any sleep over it. I realize at some point, we live in a politically correct enough culture where that very well could happen."

Whether that could happen to a football coach in Nebraska is the question. Cornhuskers pray to Jesus - to beat Oklahoma.

(Football clipart via BigStock)

Those alleged experts over at the Pew Research Center for the People & the Press - and what a stupidly long name that is - conducted a national survey to find out which issues matter most to voters, and I'm certain the pollsters were drunk and the respondents were house pets.

C'mon, what other explanation can there be for putting me, Gay Marriage, at the bottom of the list? The bottom, for chrissakes.

Oh, I get it that the Economy takes the top spot, followed by Jobs. Those show-offs.

Freakin' 86 percent of voters rated the Economy as "very important" to their vote. Don't they know what really counts? I'm Gay Marriage, with the power to bring down civilization!

Prioritize, people!

Taxes earned a 61 percent rating, so you'd think I'd be showing up at least in this range, but nooooo. Instead, it's a different fear that gets the love: 59 percent of these dolts decided Terrorism is "very important" to their vote. What does Terrorism have that I don't?

The people of Pew - so aptly named - conducted this so-called survey from April 4 through April 15. It's crystal clear to me that a bunch of those surveyed had given up thinking for Lent.

The impossibly boring Foreign Policy collected a 52 percent rating, with the Environment just behind. Please, the Environment. Like whether the earth can continue to sustain life could possibly matter as much as whether two men can register at Crate & Barrel.

Iran is next on the appalling list, then Gun Control and Afghanistan. Looks to me like Afghanistan is getting the shaft, too, seeing as the U.S. is fighting a war there. I wish we could join forces - Gay Marriage in Afghanistan - and double our numbers.

You're just dying to know what my score is, aren't you? To see how low I've sunk? Well, Immigration comes in at 42 percent, then Abortion at 39 percent and Birth Control at 34 percent.

And. Then. There's. Me.

I, Gay Marriage, bring up the rear at 28 percent. Less than 30 percent of voters consider me critical to their vote. I could die for the shame.

Once I was in the big-time. I'm talking a mere two presidential elections ago. In 2004, Karl Rove made me a star. I firmly believe I gave George W. Bush Ohio, which won him re-election.

Now? Now Bush's wife says gays should be able to marry and his campaign manager has come out! How can a wedge issue work under these conditions?

Can't give up. Must regroup. Abortion and Birth Control are down here in the cellar with me. The economic situation has everyone's attention. If it turns around, I bet the hot-button social issues will rise again in the polls.

At least past Foreign Policy. Sheesh.

But the Pew-y president said I don't energize the conservative base like I used to. Some older Americans have even changed their minds about me. Turncoats! Poltroons! Sissies!

Maybe I really have lost my mojo. I'm deeply depressed. Abortion and Birth Control and I should join a therapy group for social issues whose hot buttons have cooled.

How else can I, Gay Marriage, recover my self-esteem? I could fight back - threaten that in addition to bestiality, I'll lead to mandatory sex with unicorns - but my heart isn't in it.

I have to face it. I'm not the issue I was. I'm impotent. And there ain't no Viagra for me.

(Same-sex marriage clipart via BigStock)