Now listen. I've never met a gay person, and I don't expect to, but I'm sure they're all fine individuals, except for the lesbians, who I'm told are very angry (which does not, frankly, jibe with the extensive online research I've done into their lifestyle). Anyway, if it were just about them getting married, hey, fine, whatever.
But it's not just about that. It's about what gay marriage will inevitably lead to.
You see, allowing new kinds of marriage always inevitably leads to even newer kinds of marriage. Long, long ago, when the world was perfect (and how wonderful it would be if we could return to that time, except with cars and air-conditioning and TiVo), only white males were permitted to marry. Then, after a long fight (which almost certainly ended in tears and a lot of apologies made through a locked bathroom door), white females were given the right to marriage as well (also known as "sufferage" because, boy, do you ever! Am I right, folks?). Then black people revolted and Abraham Lincoln was all, "OK, you can get married too."
I may be a little fuzzy on some of the specifics — I'm not what the fancy-pants intellectuals call "a nistorian" — but that's basically how it broke down. Now gay people want to get on the marriage bus too (and presumably sit in the front, the better to dispense fashion advice to straight people as they board), and I think you can see what must necessarily follow.
And I'm sorry, but I am so against robot marriage, for so many reasons. For one thing, robots can't procreate, and procreation is one of the two primary reasons for marriage.* "Oh," you say, "but old people are allowed to get married, and they can't procreate." To which I reply: Dude, gross.
For another thing, tax breaks. You get tax breaks when you get married, and you can be darn sure robots are going to expect them too. Except here's the thing: Robots don't pay taxes. And what does a tax break mean for someone who doesn't pay taxes? It means we have to give them money. I will be A MONKEY'S UNCLE if I'm going to give my Roomba A SINGLE RED CENT when it keeps shutting itself off UNDER THE DAMN BED and I have to CRAWL UNDER THERE MYSELF TO RETRIEVE IT. I don't know what sort of moron would marry that little nardnut anyway, but who among us can unriddle the vagaries of love?
And that's the other thing: What happens when my smartfridge decides it wants to propose to my Wiimote? What is the protocol? Is there a ceremony? Do we have to rent a hall? Can you store the booze for the reception in the fridge, or is that considered déclassé? Is there a honeymoon, and if so, do I rent a replacement in the meantime? What if I want to play a two-player game?
And then living together. I lived with a married couple for three years, and let me tell you, it's pleasant at first, and the sex is nice, but it all ends with your best friend socking you in the face and calling you a homewrecker. I don't need my fridge socking me in the face. And don't even get me started on what happens when my smartfridge falls in love with a robot in a different house. That's even more likely than it falling in love with the Wiimote, considering that the fridge spends the whole day on the Internet. (Which is something, by the way, we should think about getting rid of. The Internet, I mean.) Also, I hope I don't sound like a jerk here, but the Wiimote has been kinda letting itself go.
Commenter Moff's real name is Josh Wimmer. He is darn proud to be married to an Iowan, and he can usually be found at scribblescribblescribble.com/blog.
*The other is gold-digging, which apparently robots can do — in Australia, which is where Hitler was born.