ollowing last week's landmark sodomy decision that opened the door for Americans everywhere not to be white Christian fundamentalists, onlookers have waited with baited breath for the other shoe to drop as the Supreme Court passes judgment on the controversial topic of gay marriage. That shoe came sooner than expected yesterday, when the high court handed down a ruling that many anticipated but few wanted to admit: "Yes, marriage is really gay."

"Marriage is like, something chicks invented to make sure guys don't have any fun," explained Justice Anthony Kennedy in his majority opinion.

"So you're saying I've got to support you financially, pay for a bunch of foofy-ass furniture I don't want, raise some snot-monster kids who live to piss me off, and I don't get to have sex with anybody else no matter how fat you get? Oh yeah, that sounds like a great deal. Sign me up and point me toward the polo shirts," sneered Justice David Souter while miming the jerk-off motion with his hand.

"I was going to get married once, but then I decided to just slam my balls in a car door and call it even. Best call I ever made," boasted Justice Breyer, sitting down gingerly.

Justice John Paul Stevens nodded in agreement. "Friend of mine got married once. They said it was Vietnam that screwed him up, but I for one know better. His wife was into collecting those little beanbag animals," Stevens shook his head solemnly.

The lone dissenting opinion was voiced by Justice Antonin Scalia, who spoke meekly from the bench.

"Hey, I like being married. It's fun to talk to my wife about what kind of sink we're going to put in the downstairs bathroom, again and again, for hours until you don't care if you live or die. And to hang out with my wife's asinine friends from college, that's a blast," asserted Justice Scalia, starting to cry. "Anyway, when I was younger I found single life to be overrated, I really did. Always getting to do whatever I wanted, staying out all night, having my own ideas…" Scalia trailed off as he got a far-away look in his eyes.

"Plus I think there's something in the bible about getting boils on your ass if you're not married by the time you're 30. Ugly stuff. It's in there somewhere, I swear. Enjoy life at your own peril, single sinners."

Uptight religious groups everywhere spoke out against the decision before it was even handed down, not wanting to miss an opportunity to start some shit.

"We will not stand for this attack on the sanctity of marriage," threatened Rev. Lee Harden-Stroker, president of the one-man To Heck with Gays Coalition of some godawful place called Hucknuckle, Texas. "Next thing you know them liberal judges gonna rule that church is boring or that closed-minded fundamentalist dogma drives a wedge between people while failing to address the spiritual needs of its followers in any meaningful fashion. And them's fightin' words."

"Sure, being married isn't much fun, but nobody said life was supposed to be fun," explained Tyner Allaboy of the Concerned Christian Men's Club. "Show me where the word 'fun' appears in the bible. Ain't there. It's God's plan for men and women to grow emotionally distant from each other, raise ungrateful children and spend our weekends fixing the damned rain gutters again and again."

"Just think about it," concluded Allaboy in a flourish of inspiration. "If God really wanted us to be happy, would he have put our mouths so far away from our privates? Try and argue with that."

he launch of the national “do-not-call� registry was met with overwhelming demand last week as millions of Americans proved willing to crawl over their own dead mothers to sign up for the list, hoping to end years spent in unsolicited telemarketing hell. The unexpectedly high turnout seemed to answer the standing question of public support for the new law, which had been attacked by telemarketing groups as an infringement on their rights to free speech and practicing utter contempt for consumers.

President Bush signed the bill in March, commenting on the legislation at a White House ceremony last week.

“Unwanted telemarketing calls are intrusive, they are annoying, and they-hold on. Hello? No, goddammit! I don’t read the newspaper, fuck off!�

The new law gives the Federal Trade Commission the power to fine telemarketers up to $11,000 every time they call a number that appears the opt-out list, beginning Oct. 1. Consumers who weren’t confused into inaction by having to call a do-not-call hotline to make sure other groups do not call them voiced their approval of the law, and personal enthusiasm for finding additional ways to curb telemarketing in the future.

“You see, what I’d do now, first I’d stab ‘em right in the jimmy sack with a fillet knife,� caller Randy Hackle of Dilmont, Nebraska explained to a switchboard operator. “That’s just to get their attention, mind you. Then we’d open up a new forum for communication with a ball-peen hammer and some broken ceramic tiles.�

“Our research has indicated that most consumers appreciate being notified by telephone of the latest deals and special purchasing opportunities,� said smug Direct Marketing Association representative Tony Marsh, just begging to be kicked in the fucking nuts. “This unconstitutional law is a political witch hunt and we don’t for a second believe it reflects the will of the American public.�

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about killing telemarketers,� explained caller Christophe Williamson after registering his cell phone number with the directory. “Okay, well yes, actually I am. But what I’m really talking about is what we’ll do with their bodies after we kill them. That’s what really sends a message.�

In spite of such an overwhelming public response, many telemarketers remain steadfastly oblivious to popular sentiment, almost as if they weren’t really listening at all and were just waiting for a pause so they could tout the virtues of their practice.

“If we don’t have the right to approach consumers unsolicited, people will be deprived of potentially valuable offers that they would otherwise not hear about,� offered telemarketer Mark Finch in a dehumanized monotone, wincing audibly as a car backfired outside his window. After jotting down the unsolicited quote and questioning where he got the commune’s telephone number, this reporter hung up after Finch refused to take a hint that the conversation was over.

The new law has thrilled anti-telemarketing activists nationwide, who have been fighting the trend for years using both legal and quasi-legal guerilla tactics.

“My main hobby is getting these people’s home telephone numbers, and calling them at home,� bragged anti-telemarketing pioneer Sylvester Pinks of Tehachapi, CA. “Every hour on the hour, all through the night. Then I play back recordings of their mothers having loveless sex. That stuff’s not easy to get your hands on, true, but it’s all worth it when you hear their reactions. Especially on speakerphone with some buddies over and beer. Talk about Miller Time! Class-ic.�

In the army, I was a journalist. It beat having to pick up a gun and shoot at Germans, especially since I always had trouble telling Germans and French apart, and I wasn't really that good and differentiating the Germans and the English either. Some used a rifle, but my weapon was a pencil—you hit a man in the jugular just right, he'll wish you would have shot him instead.

It's no myth that the pen is mightier than the sword, even when you're not using it like a sword. A pen took down some of the mightiest men in the world, like Richard M. Nixon and Gary Condit. No president was ever taken down by a sword. Sure, more than one was taken down by a bullet, but the quote don't say anything about a gun.

I didn't know if I would have it in me to do what the army had to do. I thought you must really have to love war to put yourself in danger like they did. The army jumped off the boat and ran charging into German machine gun fire, or into minefields which blew up and maimed them, which is sometimes worse than getting killed. Some of them parachuted down in the midst of enemy fire to fight. If you think it sucks to have to jump out of a plane, try shooting at the enemy after you've somehow managed to get on the ground in one piece. But for me, there was a worry even bigger—if I had to, if it meant the difference between my life or the lives of my unit, could I kill another man? I was never so sure I could, so I chose the pen over the sword.

Sometimes the pen has to write about the sword, or the gun, and when you're an army journalist for The Stars and Stripes in wartime you don't have much choice. I was sent to interview commander of Allied Forces, Gen. Dwight Eisenhower, later of "I Like Ike" fame. He was very philosophical, for a bald guy. He took one look at me with one of those special kinds of eyes, the kind that sums you up and gets you right in one look.

"Many people think the soldier loves war," he told a young Sampson L. Hartwig, which was me at the time, "but the soldier hates war most of all. It is the soldier who has to walk, eyes open, into battle on a daily basis. It is the soldier who has to put himself in harm's way. It is the soldier who has to die to ensure the freedom and safety of his country, and even worse, it is the soldier who has to aim his weapon, fire, and kill for his country. Yes, the soldier hates war more than anyone else."

And back then, it was true. That was before they invented hippies.

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