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In Cooch We Trust

"It’s just a matter of time before Monument Avenue becomes Greenwich Village and our beloved Stonewall statue is defiled with a rainbow flag and an “I Heart NY” bumper sticker."


  • Scott Elmquist

Ken Cuccinelli is a visionary. He knows leadership requires focusing a dim and poorly informed public on the essentials of politics and a moral life. The attorney general made our safety and well-being his priority by taking on the behemoth of health care for all Virginians and the leviathan of believers in the science of climate change.

Understanding that visual representations of Virginia are important to our sense of civic self, it was Cuccinelli who prophetically proclaimed that the personification of our state should not be depicted bare-breasted and engaged in sadomasochistic role play with Tyranny. A more appropriate manifestation expressing Virginia's virtue is a tasteful twin-set-wearing Virginia in mom jeans with a Taurus 9 mm gracefully held to the temple of Tyranny's gangbanging brow. Perhaps he's saving that for later in his campaign for governor.

Sadly, our attorney general's vision is showing its limits in his recent effort to bring back anti-sodomy laws by petitioning the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 4th Circuit for a hearing before the gull court, which was swiftly rejected last week. We all know that government's place is in the sack between consenting adults whose time would be better spent at a Ruritan fundraiser, but anti-sodomy laws just don't go far enough. Without the criminalization of sexuality, it's only a hop, skip and a hump before our religiously home-schooled daughters are smoking a hookah with some street poet named Hebron who's devoted his life to the eradication of homelessness. And then where would we be? We aren't Vermont, people.

The scourge of sodomy leads weak minds to think that the fabric of society is plagued by poverty, racism and poor stewardship of our natural resources. Meanwhile anyone well-versed in Yahoo News knows that methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, low test scores and intersexed fish in the Chesapeake are what keep us behind Texas. When the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries can't even keep the transgender menace out of our fishing boats, it's just a matter of time before Monument Avenue becomes Greenwich Village and our beloved Stonewall statue is defiled with a rainbow flag and an "I Heart NY" bumper sticker. Wipe out sodomy and you get the people focused on what really matters: the afterlife.

In an effort to focus Cuccinelli on what is truly important to Virginia I have prayerfully compiled a list of minor defects that are distracting Richmonders, enticing them to wanton acts of giggling sodomy, and keeping us from what we are meant to be. As the capital of Virginia we need to lead this state in priggish piety and, with a few minor adjustments done by government intervention, we can stamp out the degeneracy of the people's freedom and lead the way to a golden era of beating out North Dakota, Texas and maybe even Mississippi for sexual repression.

Civic: Abolish Richmond police on bicycles, motorcycles and horseback. The combination of a well-fitting uniform on a fit public servant with the act of straddling, particularly in spring, leads to impure thoughts in the populace, which can then lead to acts of hooliganism and interfaith dialogue. Along those lines, re-establish conversations between Shaka Smart and those collegiate hippies across the country because Havoc is hot and winning makes Richmonders happy. Hot plus happy equals sexting and sodomy, and that belongs in California.

Historic: Adjustments need to be made on some of our hallmarks of history in this city. General Lee's trusty Traveller needs some cotton panties. Matthew Fontaine Maury should stand up so no one longs to sit in his lap. Jeb Stuart has to dismount his dashing steed for the same reasons as the Richmond Police Department and lose the virile hat. Arthur Ashe can stay as he is because threatening to beat kids with a tennis racquet if they don't read is good for moral decency and it proves we aren't racists, but Bill "Bojangles" Robinson must go because dancing men incite thoughts of bacchanalia. (Your time is coming, Richmond Ballet.)

Language: Words make a city and the City of Seven Hills is filled with smut. No more Short Pump, Shockoe Bottom, Manchester, Broad Street, Hollywood Cemetery or Belle Isle (it's French). The city's three seminaries need to be called divinity schools and nonprofits no longer will be supported by endowments.

In a move to dignity, the Republican Party will be changing its name because the only two students of linguistics I could find who voted for Romney alerted me that the word "republican" has not one but two instances of bilabial stops, and that both the soft palate and uvula get in the game every time the word is said. Disgusting. Additionally, "res publica" can be misunderstood as "raise pubis," proving yet again that Latin is a filthy language and has no place in government.

Finally, Cuccinelli will also need to change his indecent name which sounds liberal and is gleefully shortened to a pet name for female parts by advocates of women's rights. He should hearken to the hygiene impaired and thus sodomy-free times of our forefathers by taking the name George from our first president. To keep the minority vote, he should stick with something short, ethnic and morally pure. Like Takei. S


Alane Miles is an ordained minister, freelance teacher, writer and grief and bereavement counselor.

Opinions expressed on the Back Page are those of the writer and not necessarily those of Style Weekly.