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“April is the cruellest month,” wrote T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) in his 1922 poem “The Waste Land.”

As we all now know — whether or not we’d rather forget it, they won’t let us forget it — June is now federally designated as Pride Month, but I doubt that on the surface, Eliot would have had a problem with the abstract notion of pride.

If you somehow possessed the scientific and metaphysical power to take Eliot’s cremated ashes, temporarily reconstruct them into his prior animate form, and say, “No, we’re talking about gay pride,” he probably wouldn’t have objected to that, either. When he was alive, the word “gay” was synonymous with “happy.” He likely would have said there’s nothing wrong with being proud about being happy, nor with being happy about being proud. But then if you told him that in modern parlance, a “gay” person is someone who back in his day would have been referred to as a homosexual, a sodomite, a faggot, a queer, a fairy, a poofter, a pansy boy, or a cocksucker, he’d probably twist up his face and say, “Why on Earth would anyone be proud of that rather than deeply ashamed? Even worse, why did you let me rest in peace for 101 years just to wake me up and tell me that?”

He also would have been upset to hear that the homosexual activists — who these days don’t seem like they’ll be truly happy until every child is born with a pre-inserted buttplug — had outright stolen an innocent synonym of “happy” and smeared feces, sperm, and HIV all over it.

Regarding the notion of “gay pride,” Norm Macdonald once joked, “That’s an odd thing to be proud of, you know? Because it’s not an achievement, you know, it’s not like you work all your life to be gay or anything like that.” Norm went on to note that it’d be strange to see one dad bragging to another by showing him a picture of his son sucking another man’s cock.

Doesn’t matter, though — they claim to be proud of it. They claim it so loudly and repeatedly, it almost sounds like constant self-reassurance rooted in shame and insecurity. And “Pride Month” doesn’t only refer to homosexual men anymore. The most extensive alphabet-soup acronym I’ve seen that embraces these “alternative sexualities” is LGTBQIA2S+ , which stands for “Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer and/or Questioning, Intersex, Asexual, [and] Two-Spirit.” I’m not sure I even want to know what the plus sign represents. It’s not unrealistic, at least not the way the rainbow ball seems to be rolling, to presume that one day there will be a “P” for pedophiles, a “Z” for zoophiles, and an “N” for necrophiles. Isn’t there room for everyone at the Rainbow Inn?

In the months leading up to Pride Month, a long-simmering American culture war erupted into a volcanic explosion between two fundamentally incompatible segments of what some people still like to pretend is one nation. On one side, you have the LGTBQIA2S+ bloc and all of their “allies,” sympathizers, and enablers. On the other side, you have conservatives, traditionalists, Christians — whose Bible, lest we forget, explicitly condemns faggotry — and what I’d reckon is a solid chunk of people whom I reckon don’t have a problem with what you shove up your ass so much as they don’t like it being shoved down their throats, especially when children get dragged into the whole toxic stew.

Some people who in this insanely polarized culture would have preferred to maintain a credo of “live and let live” are likely wondering, “How did this ‘gay pride’ thing go from ‘keep the government out of our bedrooms’ to ‘Drag everyone, including kids, into our bedrooms and force them to watch?’ And why was I sleeping when the simple idea of tolerance somehow got mangled into the government, media, schools, and corporations declaring that you’re hateful and mentally ill if you think there’s something wrong with hacking kids’ genitalia and feeding them puberty blockers?”

I suspect that the Black Lives Matter movement and 2020’s Summer of Floyd infected untold millions of ordinarily tolerant people with Negro Fatigue, or as I like to truncate it, “Neeg Fatigue.” I’m getting the sense that all this hard-fisted queer overreach has finally led to Fag Fatigue, or possibly Fagtigue.

In concrete terms, the pushback may have started in Florida, where Governor Ron DeSantis — who was elected in 2018 by a razor-thin margin when he ran against a bisexual black man and was then reelected in a landslide four years later, possibly because he began pushing things such as the “Don’t Say Gay” bill — has openly accused corporations such as Disney of “sexualizing children.”

Whereas the public may have been conditioned over the past few generations to be A-OK with adult homos doing adult-homo things in the privacy of their own adult-homo homes, it’s probably still a bit too early for the Usual Suspects to get away with “normalizing” pedophilia.

In early April, after tranny “influencer” Dylan Mulvaney announced his — call me a “transphobe” all you want, you histrionic sissy-Marys, but I’m still going to use objectively proper pronouns — partnership with Bud Light, it led to such an ongoing backlash against normal, red-blooded American weight-conscious beer-drinkers that sales of what was heretofore America’s best-selling beer have plummeted by almost a third.

More recently, retail-sales titan Target suffered a similar backlash — or would a more apt term be “faglash”? — after it rolled out its very prominently displayed “#takepride” line of queer-friendly merchandise such as “tuck-friendly” swimsuits for “trans women,” toddlers’ apparel, children’s books with titles such as “Bye Bye, Binary,” and even a “Pride Backpack Dog Harness” for your homosexual pet. Especially in the South, Target outlets “moved Pride merchandise from the front of the stores to backroom areas or deeper into the stores after confrontations and backlash from shoppers.” A rap song called “Boycott Target” by someone who calls himself “Forgiato Blow” — of course a fag-bashing rapper would call himself “Blow” — shot to the #1 spot on iTunes’ most popular chart. By the end of May, the faglash has reportedly cost Target $11 billion in losses.

Was it the “tuck-friendly” swimsuit that turned the tide? Like a turtle tucks its head back into its shell due to fear, will an eroding bottom line force corporate America to stop allowing these aggressive, hostile, hysterical, totalitarian, and sometimes even murderous members of the Pride coalition to stop letting it all hang out and start tucking it all back in? Was it the fact that even members of Congress started calling for a boycott of the camping-gear company North Face when they started using drag queens in their ads? Or was the fact that Kohl’s is now selling “Pride Bodysuits” for babies the straw that broke the gay camel’s back?

Just as T. S. Eliot’s reconstituted cremains probably wouldn’t be too happy to be informed about Pride Month, I don’t think the ghost of Henry Ford would feel too “gay” about knowing that the auto company he founded came out with a “Very Gay Raptor” rainbow truck during last year’s Pride Month.

In my grade school, our preferred term of derision for male homosexuals was “gaybirds.” Somewhere over the rainbow, I hope the gaybirds shut the fuck up. And it’d be wise of them to leave the grade-schoolers out of it.

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