"OK, time to get into the hot seat!" the leader of the Fellow Warrior support group announces. I'm herded over to the coffee table in the center of a small back room in a crappy two-story office complex. I sit down and bow my head. Suddenly, 12 Fellow Warriors -- or "ex-gays," as their propaganda calls them -- put their hands on my body, most particularly the shoulders and upper torso, and the praying begins. Like freestyle rappers coming to the mike, each takes a turn praying that my sinful soul stays on the right path. I'm going by the pseudonym Monty today, and the Fellow Warriors are praying that the Lord will watch over me and prevent me from falling back into... More >>>