Marcus, Is That You?

I love getting reader feedback. The only thing I love more than getting reader feedback is CRAZY reader feedback. Which is why I jumped for joy upon receiving the following voicemail after my recent column, asking people not to call Michele Bachmann an evil bitch. Here’s the message (with my responses interjected throughout):
Hi. Message is for Bradley. Bradley, I just read your column on Michele Bachmann. You do know that Wikiquotes, just like Wikipedia, can be edited; entered by anybody, whether the quote is actually factual, skewed, part factual, part incorrect. You do know that and you made no disclaimer at all on your column that that is part of what Wikiquotes is all about.
Yes, I do know that. I do. And each of the quotes I included is cited and attributed. In many cases, a simple Google search will provide you with the actual audio or video of her saying the things you’re concerned about.
As a very happy 30-something gay male, uh, I love Michele Bachmann.
First, I’ll assume from your early-50s-sounding voice that you had a cold. Second, look. I’ve wrapped my head around Jews for Jesus and I can theoretically accept the existence of gay Republicans, but gay Michele Bachmann lovers? Marcus, is that you?
The hate from the Left against her…it’s not based on anything factual. It’s all based on intangible, subjective items.
Yeah, like that whole “intangible, subjective” same-sex marriage constitutional amendment Michele and Liz Holberg tried to ram through the Minnesota state legislature in 2003. And again in 2005.
If someone would’ve told gay people back in the 70s that we want you to get married, they would’ve been ostracized. Rocks would’ve been thrown at them. They would’ve been laughed at.
Wait. You do realize if anyone was throwing rocks and laughing at gay people in the 70s, it probably was Michele Bachmann, right?
Um, it’s just unfortunate that you cannot present the facts the way they are and you haven’t.
Haven’t I? Which ones? My article asked people to stop calling Michele Bachmann an evil bitch. Are you saying people should call Michele Bachmann an evil bitch? I’m confused. Er.
And I could shoot you down in an editorial, week after week after week, but I have better things to do with my time.
Shoot away. If your writing is anything like your voicemail, I welcome the effort.
Um, I don’t know why you’re so afraid of Michele Bachmann. If she’s such a nonthreat, why is Lavender filled with so much hate for her.
Wait, when did I say I was afraid of her? I am on the record telling people not to fear her. When people react to her out of fear, they miss a huge opportunity to criticize her actual record and stated positions.
Maybe I’ll call you back in the future.
You did. The very next day.
Hi, Bradley. Message is for you. This is your conservative gay friend who likes Michele Bachmann.
Wait, “Likes?!” Yesterday, you said you LOVED her. Did you have a falling out?
I found an interesting statistic today in a UPI article. It said that U.S. Muslims are less liberal than the general public on societal acceptance of homosexuality. Forty-five percent say it should be discouraged by society. Discouraged.
What’s your point? A recent Pew Research poll also showed that 63% of U.S. evangelical Christians believe homosexuality should be discouraged by society. And I still don’t understand what any of this Muslim business has to do with asking people not to call Michele Bachmann an evil bitch.
Uh, it’d be nice if you put some balls behind your words and, let me guess that you won’t publish this because what’s Michele Bachmann gonna do to you? What are Catholics or Christians gonna do to you? Pray for you. If you publish anything anti-Muslim, you might lose your head or your dick.
I’m not going anywhere near your balls comment. For the record, I’ve never come across a story about a U.S. Muslim cutting the head or dick off a gay person.
I really hope you’ll consider writing a little less hatred and a little more proactive approach.
I really hope you’ll consider making more sense in your next voicemail. Or at the very least fess up to this whole thing being nothing more than a late-night, booze-induced prank call.
