Tuesday, June 6, 2017

This is the Leviticus loophole, the gay men's ticket to heaven, straight out of Jersey Pride in Asbury Park, New Jersey, USA, first Sunday, June, 2017.

Robin Margolis photographed this picture, unknown to me at the time, in 2016. That's me doing "Just Nose," as Safety Pat the Proud Autistic Schizophrenic Silly Whistleblowing Clown on the Asbury Park, New Jersey, USA Boardwalk outside Convention Hall with a bystander and with my fiancé, Patriarch Athenagoras, Greek "Man of Love." I had proposed to 500 straight men per month. Gays are not my type on account of all the barebacking, unprotected anal sex. I'm used to all the rejections. Patriarch didn't say "No" when I got down on my knees and proposed. He had no objection to the prenups I read him. He doesn't bicker or talk back. His beard is thick and wavy and what a uniform. He'll make a perfect husband, ladies and jellyspoons! The protest we encountered in the story that follows took place nearby his steady pose where the old Howard Johnson's and Convention Hall meet the street at Sunset Park, which is where Jersey Pride, Inc., hosts the rally and festivities each first Sunday in June after the parade.

Convention Hall at Jersey Pride Rally and Festival, Asbury Park, New Jersey, USA, first weekend in June each year; June, 2017

Rally and Festival, June, 2017

Rally and Festival, Sunset Park, June, 2017

Jersey Pride Parade, June, 2017

Jersey Pride Parade, June, 2017

Jersey Pride Parade, June, 2017

Two friends of mine from the Asbury Park gay community, Shaune Pony Heath-Thilberg and his husband Jonathan, hugged and praised me yesterday for walking up into the faces of two demonstrating anti-gay Jesus preachers at Gay Pride Asbury yesterday and debating the Bible with one of them. They told me the people who witnessed it were moved by what I did. I went home in tears after they told me that.

I made my last point in the face-to-face debate with the older of the two and turned to the group surrounding the Christians to tell them how the debate went. He was a good listener and we did take turns speaking and listening, so I did not feel bad about him personally. In the second part of the debate, which I have not yet announced anywhere, we reached an impasse, and I told him, "That's a good point," and I turned away from him to face the group. (That's like debating how many angels can fit on the head of a pin. One can make a good point, but it's ridiculous.)

I said to them,
Here's how you do it. Leviticus, "A man shall not lie with a man as he does with a woman." So I told the guy, "You kneel and I'll stand up on my feet. Nobody will be lying down with anybody." So he said, "That's fornication," sex outside marriage. I said, "Yes, but now we have gay marriage." That's your ticket to heaven, everybody! 
Then I walked away to continue to clown the Boardwalk for Pride Day. People want to know why I clown. I tell them the cause. To save the world from #punishmentRunAmok. I'd not be so successful were I not so delusional.

The first step is to #CloseTheJRC of extremely painful Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) skin shock. Then we bankrupt ABA. Then we show the world our Reward and Consent (R+C) (dual parent and child consent) Cognitive Behavioral Teaching (CBT) method. Then we teach activists how to use it.
Get up off the ground so nobody can pick you up. Politicians just want to get away from you. They're people, too. Instead of attacking them until they comply with your demands, and then letting up the pressure when they obey (negative reinforcement under aversives removal), write them mass quantities of letters of praise as soon as they do the right thing or as soon as they improve in successive approximations toward your goal (shaping under positive reinforcement).
It won't happen in my lifetime, but my landlord says I can put my mummy in our studio apartment, which we'll convert into a museum. Pony and Jonathan will be the gatekeepers. They'll collect the entrance fees and take their curator salaries. The lines will snake all around Ocean Grove, of course. Ray said we can do it, but we'll still have to pay him rent.

I'll do it again, because they protest with their Jesus signs every first Sunday June at Jersey Pride. I wish I had done it yesterday, but next year I'll add,
If you're so inclined, get the King James version of the Bible. Whether or not it's a spiritual document, it's a literary tour de force. Read how King David saved his subject Jonathan whom he loved with a passion. Ask yourself, "What's up with that? Were they gay?" And then read St. Paul. He was an in-the-closet gay man with internalized homophobia, just like the sad, pathetic, anti-gay Jesus freaks, my friends. He's the one who opposed fornication. Jesus said nothing about gay sex and the Bible never forbade same-sex marriage. And who were those twelve, handsome, half-shirtless, bearded fishermen at his side all the time? Get real! That's polyamory! Paul was taken prisoner on a ship. Read between the lines. They raped him and so he opposed fornication. What happens in the Navy? What happens in jail? Homosexuality. It's clear as a bell. Now that we have gay marriage, everybody, we can permit the straights to marry, but we won't be so Christian and bitter about it, right?
What about the lesbians? Well Leviticus says nothing about them, so they can do their hugging and kissing using any combination of romantic Kamasutra positions. As long as they marry, they can pass the Pearly Gates into Heaven. The dudes, however, simply can't do on a mattress. Anything else is game, except, of course, for pre-marital sex. When it comes to post-divorce sex, well, then we're better off consulting a psychiatrist than a wo(man) of the cloth.

Kamasutra

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I am an advocate for people with disabilities certified to teach special education with a Master of Arts in Teaching. I am not a Licensed Psychologist or a Board Certified Behavior Analyst. When in doubt, seek the advice of an MD, a PhD, or a BCBA. My ability to analyze the ethics of ABA stems from the fact that I am disabled and ABA interventions are often done to people like me, which I voluntarily accept, but only when I alone am the person granting consent, and not a parent, sibling, guardian, or institution.