George W. Bush Charlton Heston Rudolph Giuliani John McCain Alan Keyes Pat Buchanan Ronald Reagan George Bush Dan Quayle Richard Nixon Bob Dole Elizabeth Dole Jerry Falwell Pat Robertson Sun Myung Moon Jesse Helms Strom Thur

Trent Lott

Poor Trent. Gay folks give him the willies. In a 1998 interview, the Senate Majority Leader claimed that homosexuality is a disease like alcoholism and kleptomania. Yeah, and kleptomania's a lot like being a Republican.

Then Trent wouldn't let the Senate vote on the nomination of James Hormel, the gay philanthropist President Clinton picked to be his ambassador to Luxembourg. Even the Senate Foreign Relations Committee had approved it, despite the objections of its chairman, Jesse Helms.

Trent was worried that Hormel would promote the gay lifestyle. Never mind that we were sending the guy to Luxembourg, which is like a miniature version of France. Hell, they don't care who he's sleeping with.

But Trent's from Mississippi, where they don't like all that gay stuff. I guess it must have been rough for him, having been a cheerleader at Ole Miss (which was NOT named after an aging drag queen, so don't ask). The rednecks must have given him the business about jumping up and down doing cheers. Think they might have whipped his ass -- or called him sissy boy? Poor Trent.

He ought to stop fretting about gays and be more concerned about the white folks he hangs out with. I'm talking about the CCC -- the Council of Conservative Citizens, a white supremacist group that opposes race-mixing. Granted, they're not as bad as the KKK. These guys have a softer approach. They don't lynch folks.

But Trent says he doesn't know much about them, although he was their convention keynoter a few years back. Plus, they ran his column in their newsletter, and he had his picture taken with their leaders.

That doesn't ring a bell, Trent? Aw, c'mon, you remember that huge crowd of white folks waving little Confederate flags, and everybody was singing "Dixie." No, not your fraternity meeting. And, no, they weren't wearing sheets that night. It was a dress-down affair.

No, they were -- aw, forget it, you're right. If you had to count all the times you've heard that song.