HOW I REALLY FEEL:
Orson Scott Card, you are, and I say this with the reservation of someone who read Speaker for the Dead
and wept on a city bus, the worst. I will never buy or read your books again, and I am withdrawing my membership from the Card Superfriends Fan Team and Party Brigade (Sorry, Chet and Dale).
The Mormon's I've known (all lovely people) have always been particularly impervious to logic, but it's all I've got so here I go. Mr. Card, you are as evil, and will one day be as reviled by any sane individual, as an 18th-century slave owner. Let me explain. Throughout the history of America, and indeed in the course of any developing culture, the universal historical trend (with some notable, but temporary deviances) has been towards expanding rights for an expanding number of people. Women couldn't vote, now they can. Blacks were treated like pack animals, now they get to live in the inner city and some of them own nice cars. The point is, PROGRESS. There is no question, absolutely none at all, that you are fighting a battle you can't win. In a hundred years, flamboyant gay guys will be getting married in fabulous dresses on your grave, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. But worse, when that day finally comes, you will be classed with all those others who stood in the way of expanding rights and humanity: the Ku Klux Klan, Apartheid, the anonymous boardroom of fat men arguing about which secretary has the best ass. And if there's any justice, even though I've no doubt you could fire off a response to this post that would be perfectly eloquent and arresting (in fact, you totally should, my hits would go through the roof), your work will be read only as a curiosity, a way to peek into the mind of a caveman. Or else by lovers of great fiction, who will have to read them, set them down, shrug, and say "well, that was super good, even