One of my favorite novels when I was younger was “Robinson Crusoe,” by Daniel Defoe. I must have read it at least a dozen times in high school without realizing that it was trying to turn me gay.
Think about it. Two guys stuck on an island without women? Becoming best friends across cultural and racial lines? Sleeping in the same hut? Cannibalism as a metaphor…
See what I mean?
Then there’s the screen adaptation of my favorite novel, Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird.” It wasn’t until I watched the film that I realized how much sexual tension exists between Atticus Finch and Tom, the innocent black man he defends.
You’re thinking I’m crazy, but watch the movie carefully. There’s that moment on Scout Finch’s face when she realizes, “Holy cow. My father is just as queer as he can be!”
There’s some other less important stuff in Lee’s book about racial inequality, intolerance, cruelty and the triumph of the human spirit, but I now realize that it’s all just a mask to push the gay agenda.
I was blissfully unaware of this artistic sexual subversion until Kathryn Skaggs raised the issue on her blog “Well Behaved Mormon Woman.” According to her, the highly popular animated movie “Frozen” not so subliminally delivers a pro-gay agenda to impressionable minds.
I readily admit to being slow. I took my grandkids to “Frozen” and all I got was “There’s too much singing in this thing.” But it turns out the snowman is gay. And the reindeer is almost certainly bisexual. Or something like that.
Maybe Skaggs is right. Maybe the worldwide homosexual movement has been trying to recruit me the entire time. And not just in movies such as “12 Angry Men” and “In the Heat of the Night” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
What about the two years I spent living with another guy on my LDS mission? Was that a not-so-subtle attempt to draw out the gayness in me? Or all those communal showers I was forced to take with 30 other naked guys in the Army? What kind of message were those sending?
Hollywood has been playing with my head. Why else would I publicly admit that actor Hugh Jackman (a guy) is way better looking than Danny DeVito (also a guy). Hell, why would I even notice unless my mind had been tampered with?
I’ve even taken to screening old 8mm home movies. There I am, 6 years old, and running around on a Mediterranean beach with soggy underpants hanging down over my butt.
There’s me again wearing nothing but a Casper the Friendly Ghost mask and running around on the roof of our house in Boise while the old man is angrily climbing a ladder. What kind of message would that send to my grandchildren?
With nowhere else to turn, I asked my wife if she thought movies had made me more tolerant toward the LGBT community? She said it was far more likely that it was just something I didn’t worry about in the first place.
Me: “So there’s no dangerous subliminal agenda in film?”
Her: “I didn’t say that. Every time you watch a war movie, we end up with a new hole in the backyard, and nobody else in the neighborhood does.”
Hmm, she’s got a point. When it comes to dangerous subliminal messages, we have far more to fear from our own agendas than we do those of others.
Robert Kirby can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.