Stop! I Don’t Care!
By Patrick F. Cannon
There was a time when “what happens in the privacy of the bedroom is no one’s business but those who inhabit it.” Ah, those were happy days, since I didn’t think that it was my business to know how people – including my friends and family – achieved their sexual pleasure. As another saying went, “everything’s OK as long as no one gets hurt or killed.”
Now, as you may have noticed, almost everyone – particularly celebrities – is eager to let you know all about their sexual identity. Publicists must now have to take a course on the various possible permutations of sexual identity to be able to properly advise their clients. God forbid they wouldn’t know the difference between bi-sexual and non-binary.
There was a time, of course, when homosexuality was against the law. Those were bad days, when people like the actor John Gielgud and mathematician Alan Turing were both convicted in England for something over which they had no control, their homosexuality. Thankfully, those laws no longer exist. But then, as now, the wise advice that “you can’t legislate morality” was widely ignored.
I confess I was largely unaware of the different ways people get their sexual pleasure until I was in high school. Even then, it wasn’t clear to me what gay people actually did to each other. Having been educated in Roman Catholic schools, I’m sure I was told that whatever they did was a sin. These attitudes did not survive actually knowing and liking gay men and women.
So, I have no quarrel with anyone’s sexuality. I just don’t care! Why would anyone think I would? But they do! And almost without exception, the organs of public information are only too happy to keep me informed. Once staid journals like the Chicago Tribune and New York Times, both of which I read daily, now find space to let me know that Actor X has announced that he/she has decided to transition to the canine world (just kidding, I think).
And the other day, the Times had a first-person piece in its lifestyle section about a women who decided that she would do female impersonators one better by becoming a male impersonator. Apparently, her boyfriend found this a great turn on. Perhaps it gave him an opportunity to explore his latent homosexuality! This and similar stories that often appear in the “newspaper of record” give new meaning to that claim.
Stop it! I don’t care! Nobody should care, but I guess they do. I long for simpler times when I actually thought there were only two sexes. When I spied a comely girl or woman, my lascivious thoughts could be concentrated in only one direction. Now, what one sees may not be what one expects or gets. And if it’s confusing to me, I can just imagine what some kid entering puberty must think when faced with a bewildered mind and bewildering society which now claims that one’s sex is up for grabs. And there doesn’t seem to be any escape! Can it be that too much knowledge can actually be a dangerous thing?
Copyright 2023, Patrick F. Cannon
cannonnadedotcom 
There is that Japanese fellow who did transition to the canine world by fashioning himself in the guise of a collie. He did an impressive job of it too. You can read about him in England’s tabloid of choice:
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10867479/Japanese-man-wears-collie-dog-costume-reveals-none-friends-know-canine-alter-ego.html
A strange case, indeed, but at least he can fetch!
The alphabet soup of gender diversions is confusing enough, but just when you think there are only so many letters in the alphabet there’s that “+” which makes the room spin and the walls grow hair. Recently I stumbled across three new letters, AGP, which in pseudo, psychobabble jargon stands for autogynephilia, a type of fetish by which a heterosexual man becomes aroused by a woman by imagining himself to be that woman. I suppose you could call it a type of inverted narcissism. Already Democrats are seizing on this new opportunity to garner votes through identity politics by accusing one and all of oppressing autogynephiliacs, and I expect soon to see President Biden emerge from the Oval Office closet in lipstick and heels, wearing one of Dr. Jill’s floral upholstery outfits in a gesture of solidarity.
IU of course is the home of the famous Kinsey Institute. I’ve never been able to bring myself to visit it — it kinda creeps me out — but it offers everything you never wanted to know about human sexuality. I understand the state of Indiana has recently cut off their funding, to howls of protest naturally, over their activities to sexualize children. Hoosiers don’t like perverts messing with their kids.
Yes, there was a time when people with quirks in their psychic circuitry kept their predilections to themselves. Now, instead of trying to remedy or at least restrain them, they channel them at society. Like Bill Clinton I feel their pain, to an extent. Everyone seems to have a grievance of some sort, and they believe it’s everyone else’s fault. Trouble is, most people have their hands full feeling guilty about their own sins let alone Lassie’s.
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An inscrutable Lassie. Who would have thoought it.
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It’s a man bites dog story.
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