I was walking to church service a few weeks back, enjoying the sunshine and looking at shop windows in town, when this particular brand of insanity popped out at me, like a punch to the face:
WTF?! I'm no prude. I grew up dancing around in formfitting leotards as a kid, but never in some weirdo outfit like this, because (and this is key) MY PARENTS WOULD HAVE NEVER ALLOWED IT. Why, you ask? Listen to me, you g-ddamn fuck up, you know perverts who hurt children look for little girls to be dressed up like a woman because they are fuck ups. They know parents who outfit their kids like this are totally vulnerable to their brand of manipulation.
Just like we know "reality" t.v. stars pimp out their kids, pumping them full of sugar and drugs so they can "perform" onstage for these weirdos who use these events as a pretext to fetishize their children, the people who pay money for the privilege to attend, brandishing phony trophies and other "prizes", as they also lurk anonymously in the darkened audience, gazing at the objects of their desire onstage, primped out for all the world to see. In other words, this ain't no Sugar Plum Fairy dancing in a classical ballet at Lincoln Center, and we are onto you. Do you hear me, loud and clear?
We are onto you.
G-d bless you today, my parents, neighbors, friends, and dear families in Christ. Today (and for every day after, as these atrocities continue to occur), we go to battle against all the things that dare to go bump in the night, in direct defiance of Our Lord's True Nature, thinking that their sick gazes go unmolested by our unseeing eyes; that it does not pierce straight into G-d's heart, He Who Sees and Knows All. We see you. Know that, and sleep well, my children, tonight and every night.
And you, you who have so deserted the keeping and company of men of good faith, look what you have chosen to make famous with your attentions and focus. How do you sleep at night? This, this woman below, this is who you gave a major t.v. contract to. This is who you put on a major t.v. network. This is who you made famous. Does she look like she cares about you, or us, or herself, or anyone? No more.
