In cities all across the country, June 1st starts the countdown to the apocalypse.
In many cities, June is Gay Pride month and it begins a series of festivals, celebrations and parties, all culminating in the finale, the parade. The parade, on the last Sunday of June can attract anywhere from a few hundred thousand people—to over a million people in the city of New York (where Pride started).
Pride is a time of parties, reveries, binge drinking and hangovers. It’s a time of debauchery, peacocking, and ostentatious displays of individuality. It’s indecent, licentious, immoral, and iniquitous. In short, it’s the antithesis of morality and decency as defined by fundamentalists of all stripes. So much so that somewhere in every Gay Pride parade, Fundies will be out en masse with their bullhorns and picket signs, warning participants that they are in danger of incurring the vengeful wrath of a loving God, who intends to torture them in ever-burning hellfire. It’s not personal. God loves you, he just hates you for being gay, and since he can’t reconcile those two, he’ll just send you both to hell… OLE!