The Slippery Slope
What could cause a more restless night than knowing that marriage, the way God defines it, could become obsolete?
Mitt Romney believes, as did his grandfather, that marriage is between a man and a woman, and is willing to shave the head of any one who disagrees. Only in the Grandpa version, marriage might be defined as a matrimonial bond between a man the sister wives.
But Mitt finds it hard to believe that a man would move south of the border just to evade those arcane laws forbidding polygamy. More likely, Grandpa’s move was inspired by an opportunity to take Taco Stands De Mexico private, fire most of its employees, and take a handsome fee for his services. To paraphrase the Governor, “Just because they lived in a polygamist commune in Mexico, it doesn’t mean they engaged in polygamy.” This is as true as the expression, “Just because you work in a cat house, it doesn’t make you a cat.”
President Obama has been evolving in his stance on gay marriage, something that Romney can’t do, because he doesn’t accept evolution as a scientific principle.
The family values right has been warning us all along that gay marriage can be a slippery slope. I’ve known a few gay people, and to them, the slippery slope has a whole different meaning, but I won’t get into that (so to speak). Bill O’Reilly is convinced that sex between members of the same gender can lead to inter-species relationships.
I don’t think that Bill’s conclusion is so absurd. In fact, I believe that inter-species marriage could be a good thing. What could be better than marrying your best friend?
Take this hypothetical scenario:
A crowd begins to gather in the Church of the Latter-day St. Bernards. The groom has agreed, despite his parent’s wishes, to have the service at his bride’s church.
As guests file in to the sanctuary, it’s easy to tell which side is the groom’s and which is the bride’s. If you’re from the Groom’s guest list, just avoid the side of the room where attendees are licking their private parts and smelling their pew-mate’s rear ends.
Within minutes the room is full of wedding guests eagerly awaiting the start of the ceremony.
The groom, resplendent in white tux and cummerbund, stands at the foot of the alter, next to the Best Dog, Foxxy (no relation to the bride). The reverend, Bull Teriay, who is, himself, the product of a mix-species marriage between a woman and an English Bulldog, stands ready, bible in paws, to perform the ritual.
Music fills the room. It is Bach’s “Sheepdogs May Safely Graze.”
All eyes face the rear of the temple as the Flower Puppy begins a lively prance down the aisle, stopping at each row of pews for a little whiff.
Then the moment arrives. The bride appears, dressed, despite several previous litters, in a magnificent white gown (available at Sarasota Bridal and Puppy Wear for $999.99 – no paw me downs for this bride). She strains at her leash, tightly held by the proud father, about to give her away to the waiting groom.
After delivering their touching wedding bow-wows, the Reverend administers the oath. And by the powers vested in him, pronounces them Man and Bitch.
You many now lick the bride, says Reverend Teriay.
The groom’s mom, frowning in the first row, turns to her husband and says, “Couldn’t he at least have married a white dog?”