Last night you graced the screens of British television in Dispatches’ Hunted. You seriously need a new agent. Your first starring role didn’t not go down well with audiences. There was no critical acclaim. Sadly for you your hatred and stupidity was there for all to see. You didn’t sell yourself well. You spend your weekends hunting gay men in so called safaris, protecting Mother Russia from a threat you find too horrifying to contemplate. Gay men and women free to love as they see fit. You entrap gay people under false pretences using half witted cronies and psychologically (and no doubt when the cameras aren’t rolling, physically) torture them until, as you so nicely put it, their lives are destroyed. You believe it your civic duty to film these gay men and out them online, ensuring the fear they feel for the hour or so they spend in your vile company continues long after they have returned to the safety of their own homes. If they still have homes to go to.
The anger you created in my soul, the bile in my stomach is still with me hours after I first clapped eyes on your face. I could I suppose troll you, threaten you, report you but I know it will make little difference. No doubt you are revelling in the fame you have found. But I do have a plan. I’m gonna get myself a visa and come pay you a visit. Nothing threatening. A friend will call you, a contact through your life on social media and you will hopefully meet up together. Only I’ll be waiting. With like-minded homos. And we’ll ‘interview’ you. Ask you if you just woke up one day and decided to be an bigot. It’ll just take an hour but we’ll question your heterosexuality. The reasoning behind it. We’ll ask you to stay away from our children. I’ll buy you a dictionary so you can look up the definitions of gay and paedophile and note that they are very, very different. I’ll get a decent hairdresser in and sort out that barnet of yours. (Red, really?). I’ll probably play you some Donna Summer, a little Babs and then some Tchaikovsky. We’ll dance like Vaslav Nijinsky and Rudolf Nureyev and, if you are very lucky, spin Pussy Riot’s latest EP. I’ll wrap in a rainbow flag and insist you display actions of tolerance and humanity and film it for YouTube and all to see. And then I’ll let you go. Safe in the knowledge that regardless of what I did with our short time together you will not change. You will remain the person that you are. And I will remain the person I am. Which right now, living in an enlightened 21st Century, makes me a better than you.
Violence and intimidation is not the answer. It is not how civilised society operates. You, Katya, are a dinosaur and we know what happened to them. Good luck getting out of that one.