Moab Is My Washpot

by Stephen Fry

If the physical act and its detail is so much more important to you than love, then see a doctor, but don’t spew out your sickness in column-inches; it isn’t nice, it isn’t kind, it isn’t Christian. And if the best you can do is quote the Bible in defence of your prejudice, then have the humility to be consistent. The same book that exhorts against the abomination of one man lying with another also contains exhortations against the eating of pork and shell-fish and against menstruating women daring to come near holy places. It’s no good functionalistically claiming that kosher diet had its local, meteorological purposes now defunct, or that the prejudice against ovulation can be dispensed with as superstition, the Bible that you bash us with tells you that much of what you do is unclean: don’t pick and choose with a Revealed Text—or if you do, pick and choose the good bits, the bits that say things like “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” or “Love thy neighbour as thyself.”