I already knew this but didn’t have the data to prove it, but the so-called “traditional marriage” states are full of degenerates divorcing each other at far greater percentages than the rest of the country.

So, let’s be honest, who is a greater threat to the institution of marriage: gay people who have been in relationships for decades who would like to get married and can’t OR rednecks who knock each other up and get hitched and learn to hate each other but do it because they are told they have to?

I think you already know the answer.

And I’m pretty sure the divorce map hews closely to the bottom map. Yes, it is a bit out of date since New Jersey went all Talibangelical and did not allow gay marriage like people thought. Granted, it isn’t pertinent to divorce necessarily, but if you are bigoted enough to fear gay marriage, why are you cool with first cousins procreating?

Satan responds to Pat Robertson. Hilarity ensues.

Dear Pat Robertson,

I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I’m all over that action. But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I’m no welcher. The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished. Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth — glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake. Haven’t you seen “Crossroads”? Or “Damn Yankees”? If I had a thing going with Haiti, there’d be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox — that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it — I’m just saying: Not how I roll. You’re doing great work, Pat, and I don’t want to clip your wings — just, come on, you’re making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That’s working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.

Best, Satan