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I have decided to become gay. Not permanently. Only for a while. It seems to be the thing to do to better understand how the LDS Church's homo-postasy policy affects Mormons who go to church.

I'm Mormon. I go to church. Sadly, the immediate effect of the policy on me was negligible. I remember exactly what I thought the moment I heard about it.

"Great. One more thing I'll have to ignore on my steadfast trip to the morning of the third resurrection and the Telestial Kingdom."

That didn't seem like quite enough understanding, so I decided to become gay. As you might expect, this is no easy task for a guy fiercely heterosexual from birth. I like women. A lot.

I'm especially attracted to one particular woman. So among the myriad things to learn about being gay is how to hide it from my wife. If you see her, don't say anything.

Hiding it is fair. Suppressing my true nature will be no less difficult for me than it has been for millions of people who've had to pretend to be straight in order to appease the busybody and unforgiving society into which they were born.

You were probably thinking "Utah" and "Mormonism" when I said "society." I was actually talking about Earth in general. Read your history. Gay people have had to face worse things than being regarded as apostates.

This brings us to perhaps the most important point of clarification. Will I have gay sex in order to prove that I am truly gay? The answer to that is "Are you out of your #*&% mind?" That would be adultery.

Or did you forget already that I'm married? I don't know about you, but I see no merit in trying to better comprehend something if it causes me to end up too brain damaged to actually comprehend it.

The truth is that I don't have to be completely gay. All I need is for the people in my LDS ward to believe I am. As homophobic as some of them probably are, it shouldn't be too difficult.

On Sunday, I shall wear a tie and my best shirt. I'll shine my shoes. I'll comb my hair. I might even use mousse. Finally, with a quick dab behind each ear of something "come hither," I'll be set.

This next part gets a little more dangerous. I'll have to find another guy sitting alone in church. When I do, I'll just sit down really close to him. If he agrees to play along — and what are the odds of that happening? — we'll hold hands and smile happily at everyone.

Maybe I'll put a possessive arm around my partner. If he lazily scratches my back during a boring talk, that would seal the deal for everyone.

Assuming I'm not immediately assaulted or chased from the building, my guess is that the meeting won't be half over before the pews around us empty.

As soon as the closing prayer ends, we'll be invited to the bishop's office to establish the reason for our behavior. Upon discovering that we claim to be married, he'll make our status as apostates clear. There will be a whole list of things we won't be able to do if we want to be "good" members.

Forget it. Pretending to be gay seems like a lot of bother just to figure out something I already knew — that when it comes to church stuff, my one job is to make sure I treat everyone there with respect and acceptance.

Since I'm already doing that for assorted tea partiers, doctrine disciples, gospel Nazis, the Mormon Mujahedeen and the like, how difficult could it be to do the same for gay people?

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.