Free I Am Max Lamm by Raphael Brous Page A

libidinous disgrace, disappear from the firm’s endorsement program or else America’s conservative Christians would unanimously choose another brand of running shoe.
    How these evangelicals abhorred the fallen champ and his ilk! Because decadent Jews like Max Lamm, the beneficiaries of a global financial conspiracy led by Soros, Geffen, Spielberg, Art Garfunkle and the other wealthy Jewish liberals, diluted the megachurches’ illusionary re-creation of Eisenhower’s golden age. Making their mark that election year, Falwell’s followers yearned for the vanquished era of safe segregated streets, of creationism in science classrooms, of white churchgoing values unshattered by
Roe v Wade
or the
Brown
decision, of incorruptible small government and priests who never fall for the temptation of the altar boy’s flesh, of an apple-pie America that never existed anyway outside of Frank Capra movies and Norman Rockwell paintings on the cover of the
Saturday Evening Post.
    The family values lobby successfully petitioned the Association of Tennis Professionals to suspend Max Lamm from future tournaments. His career – fourteen years of training, six hours a day – dissolved by the conservative coalition of fat cat Falwell, the megalomaniacal psychologist James Dobson of Focus on the Family, and right-wing titan Ralph Reed (a few months before he was exposed for helping the crooked lobbyist Jack Abramoff fleece $82 million from a Native American tribe in Mississippi).
    So ignore the so-called news in that leftist cumrag the
New York Times
! Ignore Bin Laden and his lieutenants brainstorming in a cave in northern Pakistan, or the Jordanian kid in a suicide belt who killed thirty people yesterday at a fruit market in the Sunni Triangle. Ignore the glaciers melting into slurpee slush, ignore all the news since Satan stuck a cigar up his intern, because finally, here was something for the evangelicals to really get worked up about!
    Max Lamm’s sex-tape spectacle was a red rag to those who pray for the resurrected reign of Ronald the Great Communicator; the millions of Americans with flagpoles stuck in their yard and up their spine, who yearn for the early 1980s when the president was hewn from Mount Rushmore’s craggy rock, thought like a rock, and unlike the shadowy terrorists arriving on student visas from Saudi Arabia, the USA’s most dangerous enemy was big, red and smack bang in the middle of the world map. Back when the enemy was like us and didn’t want to die.
    For a week the born-agains overloaded the switchboards at Reebok and the Association of Tennis Professionals. They phoned the Midwestern newsrooms of NBC, ABC, CBS. ‘Get that disgusting sex freak and his Mexican prostitute
off
my TV set!’ Not enough to change the channel, the drug-addled whoremonger of a tennis champ must
disappear.
Rush Limbaugh’s soccer-mom storm troopers hadn’t been as disgusted by a sports story since Janet Jackson flashed her pierced nipple at the Superbowl and revealed to America’s children that tits exist. Lamm was disappointed that when the newspapers featured images from his video, the prostitute’s spectacular natural breasts were blurred by pixelated circles. They show Saddam hanging on a rope, but a nipple – the most divine you’ve ever sucked – is too abhorrent? The kids should read about you in the Swedish papers.
    For America’s stressed-out mums at the grocery checkout, Lamm was ten minutes’ diversion from the exhausting world. On the rack alongside M&Ms and Snickers, besmirched in the
National Enquirer
, he was a welcome distraction from their defaulting home loan, rocketing petrol prices, the body bags back from Baghdad or Kabul, this month’s corporate fat cat scandal with ten thousand jobs axed, another misfit shooting his classmates at junior high in Arkansas, the three little monsters in the back seat screaming they want McDonald’s . . .
    Meet Max Lamm’s downtrodden jury. They condemned him at