Super-queeny pop star Prince become a Jehovah’s Witness seven years ago, an experience he describes as “a realization. It’s like Morpheus and Neo in ‘The Matrix'”. The upshot of this for everyone is that if you live in Los Angeles, there’s an honest-to-goodness chance that you’ll have Prince show up on your doorstep one day, clutching a copy of The Watchtower. The downside? He’s saying things like:
“But there’s the problem of interpretation, and you’ve got some churches, some people, basically doing things and saying it comes from here, but it doesn’t. And then on the opposite end of the spectrum you’ve got blue, you’ve got the Democrats, and they’re, like, ‘You can do whatever you want.’ Gay marriage, whatever. But neither of them is right… God came to earth and saw people sticking it wherever and doing it with whatever, and he just cleared it all out. He was, like, ‘Enough.’”
If only God could come back to Earth and clear the world of all its terrible homosexuals again! Though, if I were Prince, I’d watch out I wasn’t swept away in the divine retribution as well. When The New Yorker describes your house as:
“Mediterranean style…personal flourishes here and there–a Lucite grand piano with a gold-colored “Artist Formerly Known as Prince” symbol suspended over it, purple paisley pillows on a couch. Candles scented the air, and New Age music played in the living room, where a TV screen showed images of bearded men playing flutes”
…And describes you as “a small fifty-year-old man in yoga pants and a big sweater, wearing platform flip-flops over white socks, like a geisha”, you better hope that He doesn’t mistake you for Liberace. Seriously Prince, you’re a 50 year old bachelor with a closet full of ruffled shirts. Do you really want to be going there?