Paul Rudnick’s hilarious piece in the New Yorker takes on former air force chief’s Op-Ed in the Times. Sometimes I think people are afraid that repealing Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell will turn the compound in Iraq into a gay dating Green Zone. And that Camp Pendleton will turn into the world’s biggest gay bar. But enough of what I think.
Here’s the passage in Rudnick’s piece that made me laugh out loud:
As a gay soldier, I naturally spend much of my time debating casting issues involving the musical theatre, although, thankfully, I can’t share such thoughts with my unit. Instead, when I spot a potential suicide bomber, I think of him as someone who insists that Tyne Daly was the greatest Mama Rose of all time, even better than Merman. This makes me so enraged, and my aim grows so steady, that I can pick off the bomber with a single well-flung grenade, while shouting to myself, “Tyne was appealing, but she didn’t have a shred of Angela Lansbury’s esprit, or Patti LuPone’s thwarted fury! Anyone who ranks Tyne over Patti deserves to die! ” It’s called valor.
Read Rudnick’s full column here.