The “Straight” Dope On Traditional Marriage
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I guess I missed a meeting somewhere. Maybe a bunch of meetings.
See, when I was a kid marriage was a pretty simple thing. A man met a series of women. There could be Susannes and Emilies and Mary Sues. Maybe a Lisa or two. Kathies. Lots of names out there. I don’t have time to write them all down. You’d meet them everywhere, too: libraries, bookstores, bibliothecas, and reading rooms. Occasionally an athenaeum. Basically anyplace with books. I don’t know why. Eventually, the fellah settled on one of them—Usually not one of the Lisas. Lisas are trouble.—and together they entered into a state of what we used to call “marital bliss.” If an Alan or a Steve or a Danny slipped into the mix there somewhere, well, that was purely accidental and probably the result of too many beers after a long shift at the plant one chilly, windswept November night that I don’t have much clear recollection of.
All I mean to say is this: Marriage is between one man and one woman. It was always thus, going back through the endless eons of human history all the way to the Bible. You might as well fuss around with the law of gravity or man’s God-given right to own a surface-to-air missile. It’s a bad idea, friend, and I’m here today to lay out exactly why.
1. It’s God’s Plan
What is God’s plan? We have absolutely no idea. There is just no way for us mere mortals to penetrate this Unfathomable Mystery, reach into the mind of an Omnipresent Being, and know His Plan for Creation. But traditional marriage is a part of it, you can be damn sure of that. One guy, one gal. Easy as pie. Maybe you’ve heard the expression “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and STEVE”? That’s a pretty good one, right? Sometimes, I call my close friend Steve and we laugh about that one for an hour or two (his name being Steve and all, you see) whilst also exploring our deepest, most secret longings and merging into a fulfilling unity of thought and word that brings my universe (and convictions about traditional marriage!) for once into a sharp and total clarity. Friend, if that ain’t Heaven, I don’t want to know what is.
2. Where Are the Limits?
Okay, so say we let man marry man and woman marry woman. I don’t think we should, but let’s just say we do. What’s next? Will man then be able to marry horse or turtle or dog or goat? Don’t laugh. It could happen. There are a lot of animals. What if you had a heavy crush on a shark? Should you be allowed to marry her/him/it? Friend, that is one marriage that will end up “biting” you! (Note: I “borrowed” this one from pastor.) What about inanimate objects? Hey, Statue of Liberty, you lookin’ pretty good up there, what with your fetching torch and crown and whatnot. Oh, and there’s Teddy Roosevelt on Mount Rushmore. I’d “Mount” that. You think I am joshing with you, but I am not. This is serious business. Think about it: One day you might hear a friend say, “I love pizza” and not know exactly how to take that. My friend Alan, he likes pizza. Likes it a lot. I like it, too. The golden heat of it and delicate curlicues of rising steam. The radiant, intoxicating afterglow of a gnawing appetite fully sated in a rush of melty splendor and release. Maybe when I’m done writing this letter to all y’all, I will give old Alan a shout and we’ll go grab a slice. Heck, maybe we’ll have two.
3. Biology
I failed biology in high school but imagine if humans were to fail biology in the high school of Earth history. This could happen, buddy, don’t think it can’t. If man can marry man and woman marry woman, where will new people come from? They don’t just pop out of the ground like ears of corn, you know? Corn does that but not babies. Don’t believe me, you can look it up. Sometimes I discuss this biological angle with my pal Danny, who—believe me—knows a thing or two about that particular subject. Soon our talk turns to philosophizing about man’s place in a chaotic universe and his attempts to bring order and control to what can never be fully tamed. We clutch for meaning, grappling and struggling like wrestlers, stripped and finely oiled, for a truth that seems always to lay just beyond our gasping, heaving exertions until, exhausted, we lapse into a contented reverie beyond judgment and modesty.
To review then: Traditional marriage good; other kinds of marriage bad. All four of my unions have been blessed by Our Creator above. Except for the one with Susan and half the one with Lisa. Not sure what the Lord was thinking there. But the rest of them were great, more or less. They were so good, in fact, that I’m currently on the lookout for Number Five. Maybe she’s reading this letter right now? The heart leaps to even think it. And that’s why I continue to support traditional marriage and will do so until the day I’m lowered into the cold, cold earth. It’s as strong and muscular an institution as an Alan, as proud and confident as a Steven, and ultimately as yielding and fulfilling as the most tender Danny you are ever likely to meet in this sorrowful old lifetime.