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When I was a child, a Rainbow was something that gave me pleasure. According to my Sunday School Teacher, it was the sign that God was watching over us and that we were being looked after by Him.

To me, it was a magnificent display of Nature that all was good in the world. God may or may not have been the architect; but, whoever was in charge of its creation was a very canny bloke indeed.

Now, my Rainbow has been stolen. Misappropriated.

Like so many words and so many things these days, the purity and joy of words has been manipulated and denigrated. Symbols have been distorted and twisted into things that are not as I remember them to be.

I want my Rainbow back.

When my Dad died a few years back, my Mother walked down on the beach adjacent to their long time home and she was overcome with grief that her husband of 66 years had passed from here to somewhere else. She told me that she felt so bereft, so empty and so alone as she walked on the sand and saw the waves wash up on the footprints that she made as she poured her emotion into her footsteps. Just walking for the sake of walking and heading on, up the beach, towards a future that was so unknown and terrifying in its newness.

imagefootprint

She said to me later that “ all of a sudden, there was a rainbow. It almost shone in its intensity. I just KNEW that he was with me. “

What have we done? How have we allowed this misappropriation of words to occur? How can we allow the theft of our words, our beautiful words and see them turned in to something that they were never intended to mean?

I had a friend called Gay. She was a dizzy, silly, laughy kind of girl. Always rather cheerful as her name would suggest. She changed her name to Gail. She told me that it was one of the saddest thing she ever had to do – change her name because she felt that her name was tainted.She is still a dizzy laughy and silly lady but she has a different name.

How bloody sad.

In the 1980’s I worked for a business that sold telephones and things to assist with telephonic communications. They changed their name from X Phone Aids to X Phone Assist. Because Aids was no longer a helpful thing – it was a death sentence. Not a good look for a business hoping to assist you.

The Left have stolen our traditions, our cultural heritage, our social fabric and, worse than anything, they have stolen our words.

I want my words back.

I want the words boy, girl, man, woman, male, female, husband and wife to survive as they have been for over a thousand years. Is it too hard to imagine, for one moment, that we could simply be normal?

This redefinition of normal is so dangerous and so socially destructive that I find it difficult to comprehend.

It is Conquest by Stealth. Step by step, one at a time. And it all started with the Same Sex Marriage Legislation.

For me, I have had a gutful of leftie preachers stealing my words, my heritage, my traditions and my sense of self.

And I want my bloody Rainbows back.

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