Wherein I talk about irony

A great piece entitled “The Boy Scouts made me gay,” here are a couple choice quotes:

As a young New Yorker questioning his sexuality during the Reagan years, I turned to the Boy Scouts, Ed Koch, and episodes of Magnum P.I., to reaffirm my red-blooded masculinity. One would think the Scouts were my best bet to be on the straight and narrow. But after securing Merit badges in bird watching, gardening, pottery, and theater—to say nothing of the extracurricular fun we had earning the plumbing and leatherwork merit badges—I came to realize that I was, well, screwed. It was as if I were living in my own private Yossi & Jaggerprequel (but with regrettably fewer Israelis). I’m not blameless—and should have seen the signs earlier. With form-fitting military uniforms and requisite neckerchiefs, overnight camping trips in close quarters, and the National Jamboree—whose slogan is “Go Big. Get Wild!”—my heterosexuality didn’t stand a chance.

It’s kind of funny, and I’m sure, very common.

The BSA cites the U.S. Constitution in defense of its admission policies, reminding critics that if we don’t like the way they operate, we don’t have to join. Many corporate sponsors, including Intel and UPS (but not yet Verizon. Can you hear me now?) have taken them up on their offer.

This is a valuable lesson for everyone to learn.  Yes, it’s a private organization, and we don’t have to join.  And by the same token, we don’t have to donate.  And we don’t have to remain silent to encourage others to stop donating.

And, more importantly, it’s not as if we’re asking for permission to join.  We’ve been members for as long as the organization has existed, we’re just asking to be allowed to be honest.  You know, trustworthy.

I never realized that the “honest and trustworthy” portions of the Boy Scout oath operated on a sliding scale.