I recall exclaiming those words as if it were yesterday.
But first, do you realize how alien is this means of communication to our innate psychology? We share deeply held positions of advocacy–often personal, often passionate–with what we assume are kindred human beings, and not some AI Turing Tests. Yet we are evolved for personal interaction. We are wired to incorporate the extensive array of meta-communications that are incumbent to any physical dialogue. Because communication in proximity is exactly what we are designed to conduct.
In comparison, the cobweb is nourishment by synthetic protein paste–we can technically process the ingredients, though lose much in digestion. And like the sensations from phantom limbs, our minds seek to accommodate the absence by infill. We need this data stream to form a holistic communication package. Thus we subconsciously form impressions of those with whom we electronically interact.
Without conscious thought we form images of appearance, age, dress, and mannerisms–all from nothing more than the arrangement of hate-filled text. Certainly my mind does. Every person who has commented here with sufficient persistence has generated some vague mental imagery. I’ll tell any who are curious of theirs–if you can handle the truth. Though, of course, with so little upon which to premise these impressions, they tend to spray wildly off target from reality. Much like a marksman hip-firing his rifle from 100 yards rather than aiming down the sight.
And with that preamble concluded, I will wager that very few of you realized how very gay I am. And that is because your mental impressions are sometimes not at all inaccurate. Though still if I had once been gay, I would be no longer. And the reason for this return migration to normalcy is because I would have travelled to a black religious revival, where a sonorous, resplendent African witch doctor would re-orient my sexuality on the spot. And the most pleasant aspect of all is that the SJW anti-Christian, pro-homo cacophony would suddenly be stilled into bitter tongue-biting silence. Do you really want to criticize this…bigots?
And just as I did so long ago, in a period of life I like to call last Thursday, this young man speaks verbatim of his sexual salvation.
I am delivert!
I don’t like men…no more!
I said I like women.
I’m not gay!
I would not date a man!
I would not care a purse!
I would not put on makeup!
I wull! I will!
And as quickly as Anderson Cooper can rupture a hemorrhoid, he transitions from homo to hetero. That’s all it required. So while the left expends a portion of its bountiful venom sacs in excoriating conversion therapy techniques, we can plainly see that this particular version is indisputably successful. Or perhaps the SJWs would like to whitesplain to these parishioners that they, and the ameliorated subject of their ministrations, are culturally and intellectually deficient pseudo-savages who may as well be yammering at the baobab tree for what good it will do. Either that is the case or the American-African conversion therapy we have just witnessed is actually a demonstrable success. One of the two is the answer. And “Fckh8” isn’t a choice.
* Video found at a place of indescribable evil.