The battle for the imagination will be the most decisive conflict in the culture war.

Those who capture the imagination — especially the imagination of children — will insure the victory of their cause in the succeeding generations.

Those who are working so feverishly for a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages ought to be far, far more concerned about children's books.

“A joyful celebration that firmly challenges the assumptions established and perpetuated by the entire canon of children's picture books,” trumpets the revered Kirkus Reviews. The book? King & King by Linda De Haan.

That is a very exact statement of its revolutionary aim. The “entire canon of children's picture books” has been based on the assumption that the essential ingredient of any romance is a prince and a princess. At the foundation of this assumption is yet another — that male and female are biological, sexual and spiritual complements. This foundation was “established and perpetuated” not out of any conspiracy but merely by the natural flow of common sense. Anything else was unthinkable precisely because it was unimaginable.

As De Haan realizes, in order for the unthinkable to become thinkable, the unimaginable must be imagined. Hence, her “joyful celebration” of Prince Bertie and Prince Lee. Witness the corruption of the imagination as the plot unwinds.

Prince Bertie's overbearing mother, the queen, decides she's had enough of handling the rigors of rule and browbeats her forever-lounging son into choosing a princess. Poor Prince Bertie — just what he'd always dreaded. “Very well, Mother,” he moans reluctantly. “I must say, though, I've never cared much for princesses.” A young page gives a knowing wink!

Well, one princess after another is paraded in front of Bertie, but alas, none of them seem to have the proper … qualifications. Finally, Princess Madeline enters and oh how Prince Bertie's heart now flutters with joy! “At last the prince felt a stir in his heart. It was love at first sight” — not for the princess but for her brother, Prince Lee. They both exclaim at once, “What a wonderful prince!”

Oddly enough, the gruff and rather masculine queen seems for once to have unruffled feathers and — without worrying how the two pretty princes will bring about an heir — orders a wedding. The gayla affair is consummated with a lovely kiss between Prince Bertie and Prince Lee. (And just so you won't have to wonder, they live happily ever after because they adopt some children in the sequel, King & King & Family.)

De Haan's book is, alas, just one of the many books aimed at capturing and distorting the imagination of children. You've always enjoyed Hans Christian Anderson's The Ugly Duckling? Well now there's homosexual activist Harvey Fierstein's The Sissy Duckling.

Elmer the duckling doesn't fit in. He wears a pink backpack with daisies on it and loves baking cookies and staging puppet shows. His distraught and all-too-manly father laments, “I'm the laughingstock of the whole flock.” But Elmer turns out to be the hero, nursing his father back to health after he's been wounded by a hunter. In the end, all is well and Elmer proclaims, “I am a big sissy and proud of it!” Gay pride for little ducklings.

Love Dr. Seuss? Try the bad imitation of him in One Dad, Two Dads, Brown Dad, Blue Dad. Some have one dad, some have two. Those with two dads, dads are blue! Isn't that nice? Two blue dads are special, too!

Perhaps you'd like to read fairy tales? Try The Duke Who Outlawed Jellybeans and Other Stories, a “collection of fairy tales,” to quote one happy reviewer, “all featuring children with GLBT [gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender] parents. The family structures are just integrated into the background, and no big deal is made of it.”

Maybe you'd think it safer just to teach your children their ABCs. Check your local library for a copy of ABC: A Family Alphabet Book. “C is for cookies. Both of my dads know how to make great chocolate-chip cookies.” “L is for lunch. We always pack a picnic lunch when my moms take me to the beach.”

Well, maybe it would be better to stick to counting. 123: A Family Counting Book. Ahh, that sounds innocuous. Let's check out the book description. “Have fun with the kids, moms, dads and pets in this delightful book that celebrates alternative families as it teaches kids to count from 1 to 20. All of the full-color paintings depict families headed by gays and lesbians. Two dads read a bedtime story to their kids, two moms share Popsicles with their kids on the porch and several families gather around the campfire on a summer night.”

Such is a very short sample of the arsenal meant to assault the imagination of children — a very short sample. Bring up any of these books on Amazon.com, and you'll find a nearly endless trail to others. I gave up counting.

Who's buying these books? Public and school libraries all over the nation. Who's paying for these books? You are, with your taxes. Who will be reading these books? Soon enough, they will be read by teachers to their first-, second- and third-grade students — that is, to your children, if they are in public school. What difference will a marriage amendment make? None at all, if the current generation of children find it unimaginable that only a prince and a princess may marry.

Benjamin Wiker (www.benjaminwiker.com) writes from Steubenville, Ohio.