Fire Insurance

Fr Gerard Joseph reckons he has been reading my comments about Muslims, Catholics and just about every other *normal* person. Accuses me of spewing hatred at the world and suggests I should try a positive blog for a change.

First of all, I don't accept criticism from child-molesting homo priests who worship Mary and serve Satan.

Secondly, I don't believe there is anything positive to say about this doomed world. God is going to burn it all to hell on Judgment Day, so why speak positively about damnation? It's my calling in life to proclaim hellfire on a doomed world so sinners can't turn around and accuse me of failing to warn them of the coming wrath of God when they are being thrown headfirst into the Lake of Fire.

Thirdly, I don't accept criticism from anyone, period. If I'm really affronted, like I've been when supposedly fundamentalist Christian folk accused me of lying and mismanagement and God-forbid, sexual misconduct ... then I'll write a book defending myself. What I mean by that is I'll entirely sidestep all the accusations and spend about 150 pages talking about all my valuable contributions to the cause of missions, like delivering Bibles and other helpful things like tracts and hymnbooks and clerical collars to persecuted Christians. I'll throw in a few inflammatory statements about my accusers, linking them to worldwide demonic attempts to undermine the work of the Lord.

Like I've said before, the best defense is a good offense.

Lastly, Fr Joseph, your father is Satan. You better get some good fire insurance. You're going to need it where you're going.

Fight the good fight.

Crazy About Jesus

I've received numerous emails -- okay, five -- insinuating that I exaggerate the truth; that I am a hypocrite; that I am an ecclesiastical terrorist; that I have disgraced the Lord Jesus Christ; and that I am certifiably insane. I will answer each of these ridiculous, slanderous remarks before I track down each emailer -- this is my blog and I can say what I goddam please, including disrespecting every sacred religious belief and democratic norm known to man. If this God-forsaking government insists on holding onto its liberal secular humanist constitution, well then I'll just have to exert my Christian right to insult everyone until they realise I'm right and they're wrong.

1. "Pete, you exaggerate the truth!"

Pete's indignant response: This slanderous heathen has obviously never read the Bible. Our Lord Jesus Christ once said it would be more difficult for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom. Well, I know plenty of rich Christians (in an age of hunger) who are definitely going to heaven. I know this because they have faithfully supported my missionary / mercenary work in Africa for decades. So Jesus was obviously exaggerating his point. I'm sure He was referring to rich people who don't give to fundamentalist Christian causes. A camel would have a better chance of humping his way through the tiniest hole than these people have of getting into heaven. So if you think I'm exaggerating the truth, I'm in good company -- God's company. So shut up and send me your donations.

2. "Pete, you're the biggest hypocrite I've ever come across in my whole life, and I'm a 96-year-old pensioner."

Pete's righteous response: I assume you think I'm a hypocrite because I say I'm a Christian, but I go around paintballing kids on Halloween. I've defended myself ad nausea against such ridiculous remarks -- those kids had it coming. There was nothing anti-Christian about what I did. If you're doing stuff for Jesus, it doesn't really matter what you do as long as you achieve your righteous goal. My goal was to teach those infidel kids that Halloween is an occult celebration of the Devil's birthday. So, some kid got hit in the face. Big deal. Serves him right for swearing at my kids. Cut and dried case of self-defence. And by the way, you're the hypocrite -- where in the Bible do you read that Christians should ever become pensioners? You should be out on the mission field, old timer, instead of wasting away in some retirement home.

3. "Pete, you're as bad as those terrorists who blow themselves up ... I wish you would blow yourself up."

Pete's pissed-off response: How dare you accuse me of being an Islamic suicide bomber ... everyone knows those people will not be rewarded in heaven with 72 nymphomaniacs, but will spend an eternity in hell being sodomised by horny demons. I am not a terrorist. Sure, I believe in the righteous use of terror. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, my dear ignorant fool. It's how and why one uses terror that makes all the difference. When Christian countries like the US bomb the living crap out of Muslim villages, that is the right use of terror. When a mad Arab straps explosives to his body and blows himself to smithereens, along with innocent Israeli coffee drinkers, that's an evil use of terror. Now, if you'll be so kind as to give me your physical address, I'll personally come and demonstrate the righteous use of terror on your sorry ass.

4. "Pete, you have disgraced the Lord Jesus Christ."

Pete's even-more-pissed-off response: How [words deleted] dare you, you little [words deleted]. I have done nothing but faithfully serve my Lord. I don't have enough cyberspace to mention how many admirable, courageous, godly things I have done for our Christian God. I have gone on endless armed mission trips, marched on Parliament demanding that law-abiding citizens be allowed to have and use as many guns as they goddam please, protested outside every sex shop in every town and city throughout this God-forsaken country ... I have done it all and have the T-shirt to prove it. Sure, I may not have a great grasp of grace, but I certainly have never disgraced Jesus, you demon-possessed twit.

5. "Pete, you're fucking insane!"

Pete's furious reply: How dare you use such profanity! I don't care if you think I'm nuts. For your information, you reprobate bastard son of Satan, the Bible says that God deliberately chooses the fools of this world to shame the wise. So if I really am crazy, then it's exactly this kind of insanity that God will use to show the unbelieving world that their clever little atheist evolutionist ideas are going to end them up in hell. Now if you ever use such bad language in an email to me again, I will rip your goddam heart out through your left eye socket and feed it to my hungry pet croc.

That's it. All five emails have been answered in one blog post. I love this technology.

Fight the good fight.

Terror From On High

A Muslim family moved in next door over the weekend. It just so happened to also be a major air show in Cape Town over the weekend. You'll recall that I recently scared the bejesus out of a few Muslims to commemorate 9/11, using my skillful remote-controlled terror attacks from the sky.

As a warm -up for the air show -- I wouldn't miss something like this for all the Sudanese converts in the world -- I decided to let my new neighbours know that they should have stayed in their Muslim community rather than move into a largely white and Christian suburb. I don't care how rich they are; they worship Satan and support terrorism. In fact, they should immigrate to the Middle East where they belong.

I waited for the first jet to make its deafening swoop over our suburb, launching my rigged miniature plane just as the jet flew overhead. My plane skillfully dodged branches, a braai area and a jungle jim and then made straight for Mohammed sitting drinking his tea on his new porch. He was blissfully looking up at the sky, trying to make out the jet, when my much smaller plane came screaming out the sky straight for his head.

I'm still laughing as I type ... he screamed something that sounded like, Allah have mercy! Then he hit the deck with his hands over his head -- like that would have helped him if the real jet was about to crash into his skull. So happens that a pilot died before the air show when his plane went down in the sea -- Mohammed must have thought another pilot was using his new home as a crash-landing site.

Like I said, my plane was rigged. I'd worked all night on a custom-made paintball bomb that I released just as the plane screamed over Mohammed's crouching body. Bull’s-eye! The paint bomb hit him in an explosion of red paint, symbolic of the Blood of Jesus shed for sinners like this.

I quickly landed my plane, hid it behind the rose bushes and a minute later was knocking at his front door. A crazed-looking Muslim covered in red paint answered the door ... I explained that I had seen a rebellious looking teenager dressed in a I Love Cheeses T-shirt running down the street, clutching a remote controlled device and laughing manically like a Satanist. I promised Mohammed that I'd track down the little punk and exact some righteous justice on his sorry ass. Then I wished my new neighbour a good stay. I give him under a month and he'll be packing his Koran and heading back where he came from ... he's only tasted a morsel of what Paintball Pete has planned by way of a welcome.

Fight the good fight.

Vatican Solution

After reading of the furor about the Pope's statements regarding Islam being spread by violence, I really had to rethink my position about the demonic nature of the Church of Rome. Christians like me have always considered Catholics to be masquerading as angels of light, just like Lucifer and his horny demons. So that would make the Pope the Antichrist. But anyone who says that Islam is evil can't be all that bad.

But here's where my conflict lies -- what's wrong with spreading your faith by violence? Unless it's the wrong faith. But God commanded Joshua to literally snuff out whole tribes of pagans, including their snotty kids and cows and sheep. Then Jesus told His disciples to teach all the nations what He had taught them, and to make them disciples. Don't know about you, but if I'm asked by the Lord to make someone a Christian, I think that means whatever it takes, just do it. If you have to bomb their villages and then let God-fearing companies come in and profit by building nice new Christian homes with a church and a few gunshops and paintball ranges, then do it. Just like the Americans are doing in the Middle East right now.

So on second thought, I distance myself from any kind thoughts about the Pope or any other Catholic, even those who oppose abortion, pornography and Communism.

Here's my solution to this dual problem of Islam and Catholicism. I support a massive global Jihad against the Vatican. Muslim hordes should be flown by American planes into Italy and then be given huge amounts of ammo to wipe out all those faggot bishops and behead the Pope. But exactly one week after the Muslim world pronounces victory over Christianity, the God-fearing nations of the world should each release several nukes on the Vatican. I really don't care if half of Italy is wiped out in the process -- they're all Catholic gangsters anyway.

That solution will teach Catholics and Muslims everywhere that it's only Christians like me who are destined to rule the planet. I have no doubt that Muslims the world over will convert to true Christianity -- after all, they understand that religion is best spread by the sword or a nuke. And Catholics will resign themselves to going straight to hell where they will join their not-so-holy father.

Fight the good fight. And remember, my way is always right.

MOSH

I hit the streets again with some of my favourite Turn Or Burn gospel tracts on Friday night. Not far from my nice leafy suburb populated by many godly Christian folk, is a night spot that fans the fires of hell and invites hordes of demons to push through cracks in the pavement. Perfect environment to fight the good fight.

I was wandering along, handing out tracts to sinners, when I passed a club holding a satanic ritual in public -- a giant bonfire in the beer garden with plenty of people literally asking God to smite them or Satan to possess them. Then I spotted the sign on the wall -- Fokofpolisiekar were playing. God was definitely trying to tell me something -- the last time I did some street evangelism, I heard these diabolical twits swearing at law enforcers. I had to find out if my Rock Is Satan's Music tracts had been read by the band -- I managed to shove a fistfull at them last time.

Paid my cover charge and walked into Satan's throneroom. On my way to the bar for a non-alcoholic refreshment, I passed a large group of men who looked a lot like women. On closer inspection I realised these were women dressed a lot like men -- they were, in fact, lesbians. I always carry anti-gay tracts with me, so I handed out a few to the lesbos with a dire warning that dikes will spend eternity in hell being sodomised by demons. This seemed to excite a few of them, so I pushed my way to the bar and ordered a Red Bull. I had no idea the special was a double vodka and Red Bull, but reality hit me when I downed the drink under three seconds and felt my head spin and a strange euphoria flood my central nervous system. I think demon possession feels a lot like this. I told the barman my favourite lesbian joke -- What do you call a lesbian dinosaur? A lickalotopus. Haha, I even laugh at it now that I don't have Russian Bears attacking my brain cells.

I had no trouble shoving my way through the crowd as the band started up. I was wearing my MOSH T-shirt -- it has nothing to do with jumping around like a crazy fool to satanic music. It stands for: My Organisation Saves Heathens.

I think my T-shirt slogan ignited a wild frenzy of moshing -- or it may just have been the music. Either way, I had to put my unarmed combat training to good use -- the moshing fools got the bruised ribs, bleeding noses and fractured shins, not me. But I did get drenched in beer and a lesbian grabbed my genitals, shouting 'Whose being sodomised now, you fucking Jesus freak!' By the time I'd jumped, kicked and pushed my way to the stage, the crowd was so out of control, a Springbok rugby player would have struggled to stay on his feet. But I'm Paintball Pete -- even a mosh pit at a Slayer concert would be a walk in the park for me.

After observing the anarchy on stage and in the mosh pit, I was convinced that my tracts had simply been rolled into dagga joints and smoked by these God-and-police-haters. I bruised more ribs on my way out, loudly praying my fiercest imprecatory psalm of God's wrath against evildoers. Don't think anyone heard a word over the pulsating chaos -- probably thought I was just cursing God and the cops like everyone else.

I have not failed. I'm sure at least one lesbian will repent of her ways ... the one who grabbed my privates. That should be enough to convince any dike that a real man is better than a cucumber any day. As for those swearing Afrikaans punks, hell awaits.

Fight the good fight. And remember, MOSH.

I Love Cheeses

Sure, I'm not considered the poster boy of respectable Christianity after last year's paintballing incident during Halloween, but I do live in a nice leafy suburb populated by many respectable Christians and lots of churches. So I don't expect to meet a blaspheming reprobate teenager at the mall. That's exactly what I bumped into when I popped in to pick up a new replica toy gun for my youngest -- I'm pulling out all the stops to ensure he stays on the heterosexual track after yesterday's diabolical display of flagrant homo behaviour.

So there I am, quietly humming the tune to Onward Christian Soldiers while strolling back to my parked vehicle, when I spot a few kids skateboarding around the carpark. Being the good upstanding citizen that I am, I had to confront the rebels -- everyone knows you're not allowed to ride a skateboard in the carpark of a shopping mall. It's almost a stoning-to-death criminal offense.

I was mentally preparing my indignant speech, including veiled threats of imminent death by public execution, when my eyes fell on the one kid's T-shirt. The blasphemous shock erased my entire self-righteous speech from my mind, all but the words Jesus Hates Sin in flaming red letters.

'I Love Cheeses!'

That's what his T-shirt said. Cheeky little bastard ... I know exactly what his cocky slogan was ripping off -- the very Lord and Master of the Christian faith. Demon-possessed young fool crossed the line when he got dressed this morning!

With the flaming words of God scorching my brain cells, I abandoned all restraint and fairplay, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck I shook him several times while cursing him in the name of Cheeses ... Jesus, I mean.

Then I tore off his T-shirt, shredded it in front of his whole gang of skateboarding punks with my pocket knife, and then recited one of my imprecatory psalms written especially for such public demonstrations of God's justice.

I'm sure I'm going to be hearing from yet another disgruntled parent accusing me of child abuse and public violence, but I've done nothing wrong. If his parents can't discipline him properly in the ways of the Lord, well then I'm more than happy to play surrogate parent to the community's rebel teenagers. They'll thank me when these kids grow up to be just like me.

I've already ordered a few T-shirts from Fundamentalist Clothing Co. so I can present these to the angry parents as a token of my generous spirit and commitment to spread the gospel. I had the new slogan especially designed by Jack Chick:

Front: 'I Love God, Guns and Godly Government!'

Back: 'Blasphemer Go to Hell!'

Fight the good fight.

No Homos In My Home

I was still on a spiritual high after scaring the evil spirits out of the Muslims who came to see my mini-twin towers explode with the wrath of our Christian God on 9/11 ... but I've descended into the dark depths of Hades since coming home to find my youngest son dressed in his sister's tutu.

God have mercy, have I spawned a flaming queen? My worst nightmare ... I had to strike myself several times with my paintball gun to ensure that I was not lost in a hellish dream. But there he was, smiling at me and prancing around like a young version of Freddy Mercury minus the porn star moustache, saying, Look papa, I'm a fairy like [name of daughter removed to protect identity from possible internet paedophile stalkers].

Sweet Jesus, save my little boy!

I was transfixed by the demonic apparition before me ... but a reflex action ensured that I held down the trigger of my automatic paintball gun. My lounge has now been repainted in a Picasso-style interior decor that fits the rainbow queen scene I was beholding.

Before Satan could completely snatch my boy out of my righteous hands and turn him into a raving homo, I tore the tutu off him and quickly dressed him in his favourite cowboy outfit. Then we went out and had a giant burger, burped loudly in public, scratched our crotches, visited the paintball range and went beserk, then went back home to watch my edited version of those Chuck Norris movies when he takes on the entire guerilla commie terrorists in Vietnam singlehandedly and only gets a minor cut above his right eye -- which actually happened when he got too close to the spinning rotor blades of a helicopter. My edited version simply has Chuck shooting endless rounds of ammo surrounded by giant firestorms of destruction. Pretty much like the original, but minus the boring credits rolling at the end.

That should be sufficient to show him what a real Christian man is all about. I've also banned ballet as an extracurricular activity from my homeschool. By the way, please note that I said Home-school, not Homo-school.

Fight the good fight.

PS If this behaviour happens after Christians take over the world and reinstate the Law of Moses ... well, I'll have to stone my boy to death for dressing up like a woman / raving homo.

Reverse Jihad

I should have spent less time practicing on Liberty and more on flying my remote control planes over the weekend. My 9/11 lesson in righteous indignation and eternal damnation didn't go down quite as I had planned. But I did manage to scare Allah out of a few Muslims yesterday.

The mosque I had carefully selected for my fiery display of reverse jihad is conveniently situated opposite a park. That's where I was going to be an innocent bloke dressed like a Muslim, peacefully flying his remote control plane(s) in the mid-Afternoon. But I needed someone to erect my makeshift Twin Towers pre-destined to become towering mini-infernos, depicting the burning fires of hell scorching the followers of Allah / Satan. (Bribery and corruption is criminal, but not when a righteous follower of Jesus does it for the sake of the gospel.) I located a loitering gang member who didn't look particularly threatening -- and threatened to rip his heart out if he didn't do what I said. Perhaps it was the Muslim get-up I was wearing, down to a bushy black beard that made me look less like Chuck Norris and more like Bin Laden ... or perhaps it was the very visible weapon strapped to my ankle. Whatever it was, the fella looked like he was about to soil himself and would have murdered his grandmother if I asked him to.

So my scapegoat proceeded to erect the towers in front of the mosque, watched by curious onlookers, then he made a cowardly bolt down the street and probably hopped on the first taxi out of the city.

In the meantime, I looked the perfect, innocent Muslim citizen minding his own business in the park. I was, in fact, minding my own business -- and God's business of violent retribution against sinners. The first plane took off beautifully -- I decided to change the words to Jesus Saves on the one plane and Allah is Satan on the other. I circled the park a few times, until I saw a nice crowd gathering around the towers. Then I swooped in for the kill. Except I missed the first tower and almost decapitated a bystander. People were scattering in every direction, pointing in the sky and screaming like hysterical civilians do when a hijacked plane is about to fly into a gleaming building and explode in a glorious fireball. I lost control of the plane in all the excitement and it crashed into the street. Nice explosion that was met with even more screaming, but the towers were still standing.

I quickly got the second plane in the air -- the Allah is Satan one -- and aimed it straight for the towers. As I said earlier, I should have spent more time practicing over the weekend. The plane simply flew neatly between the mock towers, leaving them both unscathed. But this time I did manage to strike something worthwhile -- the mosque! You should have seen the white robes running around like God Himself had exacted His awful wrath on their holy place. Which He did, thanks to me.

I didn't manage to burn the evil building down, but it was very quick thinking that made me use a stolen vehicle to get to and away from the scene of the crime. Now the police are looking for a mad Muslim terrorist in a BMW instead of Paintball Pete. They should have a long suspect list.

Also a good thing that I had planted special detonators in the towers. As I sped off I pushed the button and brought the towers down in a magnificent display of burning wood. Just like the real Twin Towers were brought down by primed explosives set by the US government. Well, that's the conspiracy theory, but I believe it.

Fight the good fight.

My 9/11 Demo

"We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity. ...We carpet-bombed German cities; we killed civilians. That's war. And this is war."

I don't have any female heroes other than my warrior wife, but the right wing Christian woman who made the above statement comes very close. It took a blonde dressed in a tight mini to say what I would have said if I were Ann Coulter on 12 September 2001. And it seems the Americans pretty much took her advice -- bombing the living [word removed] out of those countries responsible for killing innocent US civilians. Even if they weren't really responsible, they got what they deserve for following Satan and calling Christians infidels. Just a pity they still haven't caught that bearded bastard terrorist, Bin Laden. I'll keep searching for him in Sudan -- I'm sure I'll find him in a hole like they found Saddam.

I can't let this Coulter woman take all the glory, however, so I'll be taking my usual public demonstration to a local mosque later today. This is what I plan to do:

If you've read my earlier blog posts, you'll know that I like to give pornographers and other sinners a visual reminder of the doom and destruction that awaits them inside the fiery bowels of Satan. So I've planned this elaborate demo of 9/11 that will teach Muslims not to mess with Jesus or His followers. Standing at a safe distance from my twin-tower props, which I'll be erecting outside the mosque, I'll skillfully guide my two remote-controlled planes filled with plastic explosives into them.

The loud explosions will be shocking enough, but I've added a few unique touches to make the demo unforgettable. Each tower will have murals of Bin Laden and Saddam painted on the side; one plane will boldly bare the words Don't Mess With Jesus and the other, Don't Mess With Pete.

I've been practising all weekend, but without the explosives. And just to get into the feel of holy warfare, I made Liberty dress up like a Muslim this morning and run around the paintball range while I pelted him senseless with frozen paintballs. I didn't aim for his head, so he won't be having any convulsions tonight, but he probably won't be able to walk for a few days.

Fight the good fight.

Liberty Arose

I found Liberty pleasuring himself behind the rose bushes this morning. I was feeling particularly generous and charitable, so I let him complete the sinful act before scaring the bejesus out of him. Turns out he had borrowed one of my magazines I keep for *research* purposes in my secret bunker and he just couldn't control his wild animal lust.

For those of you who have read my earlier blog posts, you'll know that several years ago -- just before the atheist secular black humanist commie regime took over from the good Christians who used to run this once God-fearing land ... just before that tragic event that I'll mourn forever, I built a secret bunker under my garage to protect my family in the event of a nuclear fall-out or marauding masses of black thugs invaded our white suburb. Both of these events are yet to transpire. But this has not stopped me using the bunker for my *research* -- this is where I keep tabs (evidence, really) on all the disgusting pornographers out there who degrade women and drive Sudanese convert garden boys to desecrate my rose bushes.

I'm not sure how Liberty got hold of my research material, but I've confiscated it and returned it to the safety of my bunker, changed the locks and debriefed the fella. He will also spend the entire day replanting my entire rose bush section while repeating endlessly: I must not wank over master's magazines.

Fight the good fight.

Infidel Flight 666

"Sweet fucking Jesus ... Not again!"

That's just ridiculous. We all know that Jesus never went around fornicating. But these blasphemous words were uttered by the commercial airline pilot responsible for flying me to Sudan over the weekend, not Marilyn Manson at one of those diabolical heavy metal concerts. Here's how it all went down ...

I missed my flight on Friday night. A series of delays that began with my wife giving me more missionary-style attention than an actor on late-night TV; then Liberty decided to have a few of his demon-possessed, one-too-many-paintballs-to-the-head convulsions; and then I had to dodge a few more missile-bricks on the highway to the airport. So I missed my flight.

I had no option but to take another plane that was flying what looked like the entire human contents of a mosque to Mecca. I was the only pale-faced, Christian-God worshiping bloke on the plane. The pilot was probably an atheist or Satanist or both with a foul mouth like that -- I'm talking about the passengers here.

So there I was, sitting in a plane surrounded by a host of devilish potential suicide bombers.

Eventually, I couldn't take anymore torment. Every time a Muslim got up to go and pee or pray to Allah / Satan, I thought the plane was about to explode in a fireball that would rival a dragon's fart after consuming all of India's curry in one sitting. So I decided to ensure that no raving mad Muslim could storm the cockpit and fly us into a tall building. I was going to protect the pilot and make sure another 9/11 didn't happen on my watch.

Turns out the whole plane thought I was a mad white infidel bomber.

So by the time I reached the front of the plane, a number of white-robed Mohammeds had jumped me, screaming something about jihad and the will of God and other demon-tongued bits even I couldn't make out. But Chuck Norris does not fear me for nothing -- I made it to the cockpit and that's when the pilot let rip with his evil blasphemy. I only learned much later that he has survived at least two other attempted hijackings at 30,000 feet and thought the same stupid things about me that the rest of the plane did -- that I was a terrorist! But nothing excuses taking our Lord's name in vain.

At that moment, I would have detonated all the explosives wrapped around me if I was indeed a suicide bomber -- and sent all those misguided, demon-worshipers and the evil-tongued pilot to hell while I jetted off to heaven as the hero who sparked off Armageddon.

But it was not to be. The pilot's blasphemy made me drop my guard for a second, just long enough for a bearded terrorist-in-the-making to klap me on the back of the head with a hard, blunt object. Possibly the Koran. Knocked me out cold.

The pilot made an emergency landing in some or other African country -- a long way from Mecca or Sudan. But I'm not Paintball Pete for nothing and managed to speak my way out of detention without trial in some God-forsaken, cockroach-infested African prison ... although it would have been just another reason to write yet another newsletter about my persecutions at the hands of black atheist commies and raise more funds for my *mission* work.

I'm back in SA and have abandoned my Sudan trip until further notice. I've heard every Muslim on board the plane has also decided to abandon any future holy pilgrimage. And the pilot has retired, together with most of his cabin crew. At least next time I'm on a plane, there'll be fewer Muslim passengers, blaspheming atheist pilots and gay air stewards to contend with.

Fight the good fight.