There’s a certain comedic irony in the fact that James Dobson, virulent, spiteful, and just generally nasty anti-gay hate industry crusader died a year ago today, and I didn’t even notice until recently.
In case you’ve forgotten or never knew, Dobson was the vitriolic imbecile who made it his life’s work to ensure that as many in the LGBT community as possible were persecuted as he could, shrouding his homophobic crusade in a thin veil of Christofascism to keep the anti-gay gravy train running for as long as he could. There was a lot of money in scaring little old Christian ladies into thinking the gays are coming to destroy their families, and Dobson was only too happy to take it.
Dobson and his Focus on the Family cult of idol-of-hate-worshipping morons were the subject of many a morons.org article back in the olden days, and indeed, he and his organization were one of the primary inspirations for the site’s very beginnings.
He and his dimwitted cohorts with their throng of gullible cultist followers fought tooth-and-nail for decades to hold back progress, spread propaganda about the LGBT community, to prop up bogus claims of “conversion therapy,” including the colossally failed experiment of “Exodus International,” and generally to try to subjugate the LGBT community any way they could to satisfy and justify their own little tired and sad brand of hate.
Well, James Dobson is still dead. He died a year ago, and despite all the trouble he caused while he was alive, I didn’t even notice. Why? Because he died a failure. He no longer affected my life, despite trying so, so hard. My husband and I just celebrated our 20th anniversary together, and 13 years of being married, failed-and-dead-James. And what have you done lately, James?
Nothing. Because you’re dead.
Stay that way.
Nick