Generally speaking, I don’t need to know about your sex life. I have something of an interest in my wife’s, but other than that I’m good.

But members of the Alphabet mafia can’t seem to shut up about who they want to have sex with and/or what bizarre fetishes they engage in. And they keep on wanting to shove all that both metaphorically and physically in everybody’s face, including children.

Grown men pretending to be baby girls, soldiers wearing dog masks, Department of Energy officials wearing other women’s clothes while tying up naked men in public, and teachers sharing their kinks with their 2nd grade students–all of these people should shut up. Some of them belong in jail. Quite a few belong in therapy.

But most of all, I want them to STFU. If it’s not my business to care about your sexual preference, quit shoving it in my face either metaphorically or physically. And stay away from the kids.

Simple enough from my end. Stay out of my face and we are cool.

Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way. Every day I wake up to find new ways in which the Queering of America is moving forward, and by that they mean the eventual takeover of the country.

Just today I learned that farming is getting queered, because of course it is. Farming, that bastion of rough and ready men and women, is supposedly being transformed by a new generation of Alphabetites who are bringing their organic values to the world of the gruff, strong silent Christian heterosexual world.

And, of course, they have to be political about it. They can’t just do it. They have to do it loud and proud.

Shannon and Eve Mingalone avow that their farmers market booth is ​“very gay.”

They hang strings of pride flags and sell rainbow stickers to help pay for gender-affirming care, like hormone replacement therapy, for Eve.

Sometimes, when parents and their teenagers pass the booth, the adults glance, then speed ahead. The kids pause for a second look. Shannon, 34, hopes it means something for them to see LGBTQ professionals out and succeeding.

People often share stories. The middle-aged woman who confided that her daughter is transgender. The teen who stood in the middle of the Mingalones’ booth and said, ​“This makes me feel safe.”

“That means everything to me,” Shannon said.

Now I call BS. What kid walks up to a booth in a Farmer’s Market and declares that being surrounded by Pride flags makes them feel safe? And if that kid exists, I hope they get therapy, because no flag is going to protect them when the going gets rough. Luckily, there’s a decent chance that one of those cis-gendered heterosexual Christian farmers is carrying, so that should make her/him/it/ghost/whatever pronoun feel safe. Flags don’t make you safe, a good guy with a gun does.

Their operation is an exception to the sprawling corn and bean fields that dominate the landscape. Shannon and Eve work to feed people, not livestock or cars.

Shannon wears her politics on her coveralls. Her favorite jean jacket includes patches that declare ​“End monoculture” and ​“Save the Earth. Bankrupt a corporation.”

The Mingalones are among a multitude of LGBTQ farmers who draw connections between their identities and agriculture, including their adoption of sustainable practices.

“We’re not just raising food,” Shannon said. ​“We are creating safe spaces for people.”

Like many, they used to have a specific image of a ​“typical farmer”: white, male, heterosexual, Christian and conservative. Excluded from that vision — or perhaps myth — is a space for them.

So they are creating one.

I’m all for people growing fresh vegetables, and really don’t care much for the politics or gender preferences of the people doing it. Just as I am fine with having a gay waiter, and never for a moment consider whether the marine I thank for their service wears dog masks in private. But, as I said, STFU about your sex life. If it’s not my business, then it’s not my business. If you make it my business then be prepared for my opinion. Likely it won’t make you feel “safe,” if feeling “safe” means being affirmed in your queerness.

The presence of LGBTQ people in agriculture challenges stereotypes of who can, or should be, interested in farming. But the community is not a monolith, interviews with 16 Midwestern LGBTQ producers indicate. Some use restorative techniques in hopes of reducing environmental destruction and social inequity. Others run conventional operations, which industry representatives and policymakers say are key to feeding the world’s growing population.

Nonetheless, as LGBTQ farmers navigate common hurdles, ranging from land inaccessibility to federal lending restrictions to social isolation, they rely on creativity and resilience to survive, much like they do in other arenas of their lives.

The solipsism of these people is a wonder to behold! Do they actually believe that nobody other than they faces challenges in life? Have they so little empathy that they imagine being a cisgendered White farmer is an easy life, filled with nothing but continual joy and affirmation of their existence?

Probably, because they are narcissists. Psychopaths incapable of understanding another soul. If they actually bothered to listen to others they would learn that everybody faces challenges, except perhaps the very luckiest among us. And those supremely lucky ones tend to be narcissistic psychopaths who scream from the rooftops about how they love the Alphabet crowd, so they belong together. On a remote island somewhere far away from children.

No definitive figures measure how many LGBTQ people farm in America. The U.S. Department of Agriculture asks respondents to identify their sex in its five-year censuses, not their sexual orientation or gender identity.

But the department is considering adding those questions to the 2027 Census of Agriculture. It conducted a pilot study in late 2021 to gauge whether their inclusion would affect response rates.

Responses decreased significantly when the questions were inserted, despite the survey’s confidentiality. The study lacked possible explanations for the findings.

But when word of the survey reached U.S. Sen. Josh Hawley, R-Mo., he accused the USDA and President Joe Biden of advancing a ​“woke agenda.” Hawley claimed in a tweet that a farmer sent him a copy of the document. The lawmaker questioned, facetiously, the relevance of ​“such important” questions to the farming profession.

The National Young Farmers Coalition likewise encountered pushback from outside of the LGBTQ community to a survey that included similar demographic questions.

But a failure to acquire demographic information about LGBTQ people prevents improvements to services, said Katie Dentzman, a rural sociology and public policy assistant professor at Iowa State University.

Shocking, isn’t it, that most farmers don’t think it is the government’s business to know who they sleep with?! Has it occurred to a single one of these people that it is none of their business? That the government, too, should STFU about all this crap? Because it should. NONE. OF. THEIR. BUSINESS!

“It’s nobody’s business who I sleep with, and by the way I like to sleep with transgendered sheep who are rubbing their wool on children in a manger sucking on nipples.”

SHUT UP! STFU!

The whole point of the “Queer” identity is to announce loudly the rejection of average people. That is what Queer means. Well guess what?

We like being normal. Because it is normal. And it is normal because people like it. It accords with our nature, and promotes the survival and continuation of the species. Men don’t get pregnant, injecting hormones and mutilating surgery doesn’t accord with producing the next generation, and is tied to mental disorders. Queer is just another word for disordered.

There are always disordered people in society. We shouldn’t hate on them, but we shouldn’t treat them like gods either. Love your neighbor and all that. But if your neighbor is shouting his sexual practices, tell them to shut up.

Such people exist. I am fine living next to them as long as they STFU and keep away from children. Go farm for all I care. But keep your sexual deviance and your queer politics to yourself, or expect everybody to let you know what they think. And what they think isn’t likely to please you.

If it’s not my business, then act like it’s not my business. Otherwise it is.