The Gays Against Groomers dude has cancer—and I am genuinely sad.

You can abhor someone (and his beliefs) and not wish for him to die.

So if you’ve been a reader of this website, you likely remember Frank Rodriguez, the Gays Against Groomers pugilist who:

A. Serves as one of Orange County’s elite right-wing conspiracy theorists.

B. Has ties to a designated hate group that, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center, “amplifies dehumanizing anti-trans rhetoric, perpetuates anti-LGBTQ+ stereotypes by falsely claiming that LGBTQ+ supporters of trans rights are dangerous to society – including equating gender-affirming health care with pedophilia and calling trans people a ‘bloodthirsty terrorist cult.’”

C. Was brought in by the shameful MAGA wing of the Capo Unified School Board to help disrupt and corrupt and defile a public meeting last April (you can read about the sordid afrair here. It wasn’t pretty).

In short, the dude has been a grotesque toxin to decency, integrity, kindness, public discourse. And when I’ve thought of him, it’s always been with base-level anger. I don’t like what people like Frank Rodriguez do. I don’t like how they reject debate, compromise, engagement, and replace it with barking, yelling, shit talking, furor.

Put different: I cannot stand the man.

•••

The other day I was sitting with some friends, eating breakfast, sipping coffee, when I asked whether they’d heard from “the Gays Against Groomers guy.”

“Frank Rodriguez?” a pal replied.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s kind of vanished from the scene.”

“It’s more than that,” she said. “I heard he has stomach cancer.”

What?

In the lord’s year of 2026, there seems to be an increasingly common emotional response when we learn about a person of different political leanings being killed/hurt/sick. Namely, “Good. I’m glad [fill in the blank] is [fill in the blank]. Fuck [fill in the blank] and fuck [fill in the blank’s] family. [Fill in the blank] deserves it.” And I get it. Truly, I do. If I’m being 100-percent honest, I will be relieved the day Donald Trump ceases to exist, and I hope it’s sooner than later. I think of it this way: How would I have felt when Hitler perished? Or when Benito Mussolini perished? There are extremely rare entities who walk the earth and do nothing but poison it. They mix cruelty with greed with a weird cult-like ability to coerce and sway, and they care nothing for anyone but themselves and the accumulation of wealth and power. That is Donald Trump, and when he takes that last breath I will throw a BBQ for the ages, and you are invited.

However …

Frank Rodriguez is not Donald Trump. Hell, none of the people I write negatively of on this site are Donald Trump. They are school board members, city council officials, mayors and congressmen and governors and, sometimes, professional agitators. I recently wrote about Amber Smith, a plantar wart of a woman, trying to issue a restraining order against me. I do not care for Amber Smith. I do not agree with Amber Smith on 99 percent of local issues. Literally, I had to hire an attorney because of Amber Smith.

But do I wish harm or (dear lord) death to Amber Smith? Fuck, no.

Never.

Never, ever, ever.

She is a human, with a husband who loves her and kids who love her, trying to get by in this world. Just like you. Just like me.

Just like Frank Rodriguez.

A bunch o’ weeks ago, the 34-year-old Rodriguez turned to his Instagram feed to provide this update to his followers.

I watched much of it, and found myself overcome by sadness. This man lost his mother, lost his dog, and now is having to deal with stage 3 cancer. He thought his life was heading in one direction, and now here he sits, in a spot no one aspires to occupy.

I mean … this absolutely sucks …

And I get it. Look how he behaved. Look how mean he was. On and on. Again, I get it. I do. But … I dunno. I was recently texting with a long-ago neighbor of mine, who once upon a time was arch conservative and divisive. He told me (to my great shock) that he was now disgusted by MAGA and Trump, and that America deserved better than this nonsense. It was yet another reminder that people do change, and evolve, and reconsider certain positions.

I have no idea whether Frank Rodriguez is that guy, but in his Instagram video I saw a very scared, very human young man desperate for a return to health.

I can hate his views, while also wishing him well.

In fact, I can hate his views—and should wish him well.

Fight on, Frank Rodriguez.

Fight on.