“What would Nicolosi say?” we’d ask. It became a regular refrain, an acknowledgment that we were misbehaving. Part of the bond we developed was in our shared rebellion against our therapist. For me, it had less to do with opposing ex-gay therapy than with the giddy thrill of defying authority. Ryan was convinced that change was impossible—“Nicolosi’s a quack,” he once said. Despite my transgressions, I still believed in Nicolosi’s theory. But my relationship with Ryan evinced a larger problem: While I was uncovering how my relationship with my parents continued to shape my inner life, I was still attracted to men. I chatted with older guys on the Internet and on a few occasions met them.
Come on, friends. At the end of the photos is the name of the town – Promyshlennyi, Vorkuta area – and the photographer, Oleg Shvets.
The western . is studded with ghost towns, none, I think, as elaborate as this one, and rural New England is full of the ruins of long-abandoned farmhouses, now surrounded by forest.
If – when? – the rest of the world forces the . to pull its army bases out (there are some 700+ of them), there will be American equivalents of Promyshlennyi, except that they won’t be elegant ruins – just barracks, shopping malls, garages, etc.