The Gospel According to Marc:  

Here’s what Senator Rick "Sanctimony" Santorum said: "If the Supreme Court says that you have the right to consensual [gay] sex within your home, then you have the right to bigamy, you have the right to polygamy, you have the right to incest, you have the right to adultery. You have the right to anything."

Well actually, no. If the Supreme Court says you have the right to consensual gay sex within your home, then that means you have the right to consensual gay sex within your home. I mean, duh.

And for the record, bigamy and polygamy are legal (not sexual) arrangements, incest doesn’t involve consenting adults, and (Hello?) adultery actually is a protected right, one which is frequently enjoyed by several members of Congress. Whew. I feel better now.

I find it ironic that a man whose name derives from the Latin Sanctorum, meaning an inviolably private space, should be so eager to violate the private space of American citizens. It’s not just bigoted and un-American; it’s downright evil.

And while we’re on the subject, here’s what else the dishonorable gentleman from Pennsylvania had to say: "The definition of marriage has not ever to my knowledge included homosexuality. That’s not to pick on homosexuality. It’s not, you know, man on child, man on dog, or whatever the case may be."

Ah, the old bestiality argument. I’ve always found it odd that our opponents are obsessed with the subject. I mean, I know plenty of queers who treat their animals like they’re people, but that doesn’t mean we, y’know, boff them. So just who are these animal fornicators the Senator is so worried about? Acting on an anonymous tip, I decided to track down the most notorious bestialists of all. I’m speaking, of course, about Wilbur and Mr. Ed.

I sat down recently with Wilbur Post to ask what first attracted him to the famous talking horse. "I don’t know, we just had a natural chemistry together," he said, "like Tracy and Hepburn. So much of that witty banter was us just ad-libbing. And you couldn’t deny that Ed was, well…hung like a horse."

"How did your family react?"

"They were upset, naturally. My mother cried and asked me why I couldn’t at least have chosen a female horse. But my father was more philosophical. He pulled me aside and said,

‘Wilbur, when I was a boy, we may have slept with the sheep, but we didn’t marry them. Back then, it was just Wham, bam, thank you lamb.’"

Wilbur went on to tell how romantic it was at first: carriage rides through the park with Ed pulling the carriage; lingering in cafés over espresso and sugar cubes. But eventually the bloom came off the rose—mainly because Ed ate it.

"We were out dancing in a club and Ed got carried away doing the Pony and broke his leg," Wilbur said, his voice quivering with emotion. "But the worst part was that the veterinary hospital wouldn’t allow me to shoot him because I wasn’t family." Wilbur looked away, tears streaming down his face. "I got to keep the remains, though," he said. "They’re a great comfort to me." He pointed to a bottle of Elmer’s Glue on the mantle. "So you see, Senator Santorum’s right. We’re just like gay people. Ours was the love that dare not speak its mane."

I pondered his point for a moment. "Nice try, Wilbur," I said, "but it’s just not the same. A horse is a horse."

He nodded sadly. "Of course, of course."

I wish I could make this distinction to Rick Santorum, but I know he won’t listen. After all, he met with the good folks of P-FLAG and insulted them by refusing to apologize. So I’ve decided to form a new homo Political Action Committee just to raise funds for his next opponent. I’m sorry, but it’s time for this pinhead to go. Santorum leads the Senate opposition to late term abortions, tried to sneak creationism into an education bill and defended Trent Lott’s comments about Strom Thurmond. He even called Lott "a man of tremendous integrity," and said he did not view Senator Thurmond, who ran for president in 1948 on a segregationist platform, as a segregationist.

Which just goes to prove that Santorum’s wife Karen, honored last year as "Homemaker of the Year" by Homohater Phyllis Schafly, is something of a bestialist herself. After all, she’s been having sex with a horse’s ass for years.

And that, my friends, is The Gospel According to Marc.