There was a time when I was free to stand against change; I was an advocate of intolerance; I was a beacon of hatred. I was the burning cross that guided the pure believers of white, male, protestant supremacy. Because of your push for equality and freedoms, my flame has dimmed; my voice has grown mute. Stop. Can't you see the hypocrisy in your movement toward liberalism, the double standard of your beliefs? Your so-called fairness has trampled my right, as an American citizen, to promote bigotry and violence. Your principles have crushed the American ideals this country was founded on. The colors of the American flag do, apparently, run. They have become a rainbow, and there is no white in a rainbow.
There was a time when religion stood for something. Christians used to sponsor crusades! They used to be highly trained defenders of a white God; they used to be ignorant and filled with loathing toward anyone who was different. Sure, some of us still picket soldier's funerals, and others make songs and propaganda about God hating you. Don't get me wrong, I smile inside every time I see an instance of a pureblood Christian upholding the high precedent of honor that his religion has proudly coveted throughout history, but it just doesn't happen enough anymore. There are actually debates about whether or not you should get married. Married! The marriage bond I share with my third wife is sacred. Those are the values I brought my six children up to believe, and I'm proud to say my kids from my first marriage seem to be following in their father's footsteps. How many children have sprung from your loins, gays? None. And that's the way it should always be.
There was a time when men were free to be fat. There was a time when the Klan uniform represented justice; we were knights in blinding white armor. It didn't matter what we looked like, besides our skin color. Because of you, men are now expected to maintain a figure; your liberal ideas of health and moderation have poisoned the minds of Americans everywhere. The homosexual plague has spread into the mentality of once faithful straight men. The new style of metro-sexuality has forced me to cut the beard I had proudly displayed since I was twelve; my ponytail and beer gut are no longer considered distinguished features. Because of you, my pasty skin, once thought to be the purist and noblest of all tones, has been replaced with the orange glow of one freshly tanned.
Now is the time when I don't know what to believe, gays of America. In the old days, it used to be so easy to hate. It was white versus black; it was simple. Now, my country seems overrun by weirdos, and you're leading the way. I just don't have it in me anymore to keep fighting the good fight; I'm no longer in my prime, horse-riding, torch-waving shape; my heart is bound to collapse with the pressure. Maybe it's just me, gays, and maybe my morals have loosened, but I feel defeated; I'm waving the white hood of surrender. I offer congratulations to you, gays; you withstood our abuse for centuries. I ask only one thing: please take pity on an old, confused man; the shroud has been lifted from my eyes and it's as if I'm entering a new world. Guide me toward the right path; could you maybe start by giving me your number?