Last weekend, lawmakers in the House and Senate scrambled to cobble together a budget bill as the nation hovered on the brink of yet another government shutdown. We averted it with just hours to spare, but by all accounts, the massive trillion-dollar, 1600-page behemoth that resulted is an ugly and unwieldy thing.

When the public learned this week that notorious cult killer (and lifetime prison inmate) Charles Manson had acquired a marriage license and would soon wed his longtime confidant, marriage equality supporters reacted with outrage on social media.

As I sat down to write this week’s column, a wonderful news alert flashed across my screen: the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit affirmed a lower court ruling striking down Virginia’s marriage discrimination amendment as unconstitutional. The court held that the fundamental right to marriage includes the right for gays and lesbians to marry the person they love, and that that fundamental right supersedes state-level efforts to deny same-sex couples the freedom to marry.

Much ado was made earlier this month when marriage equality arrived in Florida and former governor (and potential 2016 GOP presidential candidate) Jeb Bush said something vaguely conciliatory about it.

When will the last of the lines be erased and we’ll have gay marriage for all?

In January 2013, Azealia Banks picked a fight on Twitter with fellow rapper Angel Haze, who had the nerve to include in her breakout single a snippet of a song praising New York City — even though Haze is totally not from New York, you guys. (Seriously.)

Nobody is forcing churches to marry gay couples.

Last week, Apple CEO Tim Cook announced in a Bloomberg BusinessWeek op-ed that he is gay. Cook’s sexual orientation was an open secret in the LGBT and tech worlds — he’s been on Out Magazine’s list of the 50 most powerful LGBT people in America for the last four years, and CNBC anchor Simon Hobbs even outed him on-air in June. But the disclosure nevertheless marked the first time that Cook publicly addressed his sexuality in his own words.

I’d like you, dear reader, to picture a series of hypothetical events. Imagine that something gallingly anti-gay happens; for example, voters in Chattanooga repeal a non-discrimination ordinance, or a lesbian Catholic schoolteacher gets fired after coming out of the closet, or a Florida pastor cancels a man’s funeral after finding out he was gay and married to another man. Disgusted, people take to blogs and social media to vent their frustration and (rightfully) condemn the perpetrators for harassing, abusing or discriminating against LGBT people. Before long though, some contrarian invariably chimes in with “What did you expect?” or “Is anyone really surprised this happened?”

Every so often, life has a funny way of smacking us upside the head and reminding us of what really matters. For me, one such moment came at the beginning of this month, with the arrival of Andrey and Igor.

Ever since 1998, supporters of LGBT civil rights and human dignity have paused during the first week of October to reflect on Matthew Shepard — the 21-year-old Wyoming university student who was abducted, robbed, tortured, beaten within an inch of his life, tied to a fence, and left to die… all because he was gay. It was one of the most brutal and horrifying anti-gay hate crimes in American history, and it shocked the nation.

These days, one of the easiest and quickest ways to anger a room full of queers is to bring up the subject of legendary drag queen and television star RuPaul Charles.