Gay Wrongs

To be frank (and Frank is such a lovely person to be), I think it’s quite obvious that our very narrow definitions of “right” and “wrong” are not just teetering on the edge of utter desuetude, but have been violently shoved off into the abyss by what can only be described as a beautiful, streamlined utilitarianism. They were dispensed so quickly and so noiselessly—a blunder, I think, but one that a utilitarian would be wont to make in the absence of any reason to perform the execution otherwise—that only a handful of the Neanderthals (see: Tea Party) were able to tear themselves from sniffing their forefingers before plodding over the edge after them.

But I’m not going to argue about which is morally or ethically apropos, in regards to the issue of homosexuals on the battlefield. I quite honestly couldn’t care any less about what you or anyone else thought was “right,” by any measure of the imagination, nor would I ever presume to impose my opinion (on this matter or any other) on anyone else.

I would instead appeal solely to logic here, and this should be a very simple matter for all parties involved.

What is most astounding in this entire silly situation is the degree to which we have so complicated War. It is no secret that animals compete for success in the wild, and that there is no logical distinction that can be drawn between man and beast in this (or, as we continue to dissect the matter, any) respect. No matter how misanthropic you are, the pointlessness of your mundane career, the number of Israelis you take out with you when you self-destruct—the end result, so long as you continue to abide by governing forces that are human (this includes you, you sociopaths out there, as you still are governed by your interest in yourself and self-preservation) is that you fit into a very complex system working toward a very obvious goal: the preservation of the human species.

There is competition among the human species, naturally, just as there is interspecies competition in any animal. Now, ordinarily, these interspecies competitions are resolved by that golden Darwinian anthem of “survival of the fittest,” and so it was for humans for many, many generations. Yet suddenly, onto the scene there appeared a code of conduct in war—a way of carrying out what one might not just call a victory but a noble victory instead. Introduce the atom bomb some time later, and the rules change again, this time, out of sheer paranoia that someone might make a Hiroshima out of New York City.

Rules, you see, to keep the species alive, but giving the nations a continued opportunity for war.

We may still compete, and someone may still come out the victor. This may be done in one of two ways, or a combination of both: 1) out of sheer numbers and by way of attrition; or 2) by being on the team with the more sophisticated weaponry.

The Americans have the potential to utilize both options 1 and 2 simultaneously.

But you know what makes more sense? Clinging on to a desperate sense of morality, rather than bolstering its troops with more bodies. I mean, I know if I were a heterosexual soldier with bullets whizzing past my head, grenades exploding a few meters from my cover, and exploding Allah-crazed idiots running all over the place, my primary concern would be whether or not Jim was thinking about fucking me in the ass.

Now is the time to be asking ourselves where our priorities really lie.