You can't fight Islamism with homosexual cheetahs

Andrew Longman
Tent Maker

Dear Mr. Longman,

I fell to floor trembling with the spirit of the Lord after reading these opening lines from your January 20th Renew America column:

It is cognitively and nationally dissonant to propose on one hand the advancement of the homosexualization of your most identified national folk icon and simultaneously bluster with the impending force of a war to defend that same civilization. The homosexualization of your most revered masculinity is the cheapest and stupidest shot you can take at the survival of your own culture and it is really inappropriately timed when you are facing, from threats abroad, the most substantial existential peril the nation has ever known. You can't fight Islamism with gay cowboys.

Unfortunately, we can't fight Islamism with College Republicans either. I blame this on the homosexualization of another revered national icon, Chester Cheetah, the Cheeto mascot. The Chester I knew as a youth, a manly carnivore in Chuck Norris aviator sunglasses, is now a cyclist, an enthusiast of France's national sport. When our warrior-age sons reach for their favorite staple, they see him sprawled out across the bag, flaunting his bulge against tight spandex bicycle shorts, tempting them with the siren song of Sodom and replacing their dreams of slaughtering brown people with plans to hold affirmative action bake sales.

This subversion of our youth is painful to see, but as you note further down in your article, men like you and me also pay a price when our icons are homosexualized:

Has it occurred to the great bulk of our people that we need to quit tolerating the forces of internal destruction which work night and day to deconstruct our manliness at a time when our nation faces an absolute need for valor, ferocity, the force of arms...Has it occurred to anyone, anyone at all, that it is immoral to assault masculinity?

Yes, I, too have had my manliness deconstructed and am therefore unable approach my wife, Ofjoshua, with valor and ferocity. I have no force left in my "arms." It just lies there mocking me, waking only to taunt me when I'm watching wrestling on TV or looking at a bag of Cheetos.

The worst thing about it is that everybody knows. Sure, they don't come right out and say it, but you can see it in their eyes and the way they hold their hands in front of their zippers.

So we try to hide it. We change our names to something like Hardman or Longman and tell people that we work as "tent makers" while giving them a conspiratorial wink. But it doesn't help. They still know how our masculinity has been stolen from us by homosexual Marlboro men and snackfood mascots with seductive bulges.

All we can do is pray for relief.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot

A helmet tip to reader Melior.