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Dear Dittohead Sheeple:

That will be enough from you.

I have endured your outgassing long enough.  You have been heard, and heard, and heard again.

My dissent against this Administration, you say, gives aid and comfort to the enemy.  My dissent against this Administration, you say, proves that I hate America.  My dissent against this Administration, you say, proves that I am a traitor to my country.  A treasonist.

For this, you want me locked up.

For this, many of you want me shot.

Or so you say.

Do you mean it?  Think about it long and hard.  Because if you do, I have three familiar words for you:

Bring It On.

I'm dead-as-a-doornail serious.  Like you read about.

Come knock on my door.  It's the one across from the park where the kids play baseball on Saturdays and soccer on Sundays.  The one with the well-manicured lawn and the American flag flying out in front.

I'll invite you in and show you the place.  I can introduce you to my wife, who runs her own business, and makes sure that people of modest income have a nice place to call home.  She was a Republican until 2000, by the way, but came to her senses about that time, so you might have to take her away, too.

Shame for my daughter, though.  She's almost four, and she already speaks eloquently about the importance of being kind to people and animals and the environment.  But maybe it's better for her.  I've been struggling to find ways to explain to her why the government you support so enthusiastically can do such dreadful things to people and animals and the environment.  You and the folks down at the reconditioning camp can probably give that speech with a little more uumph.

Oh, my dog is harmless, in case you were wondering.  She's of Dutch-African descent, so I assume you'll want to dispose of her as well.  She's never said a kind word about our President, I can assure you.  Just be merciful.  One to the head.

Anyway, as I was saying.  Come and get me.  I won't resist.  There's not much point.  I don't have a gun.  And maybe this is what needs to happen anyway.  Maybe a few good liberals need to be frog-marched and tried for treason before people begin to understand.  Maybe if a few of us had our brains blown all over a cement wall, the lines might come into sharper focus.  For you, I imagine we'd be an example.  For others, maybe martyrs.  In what proportion is anybody's guess.  But you can't deny it would raise the stakes of the game a little when you bring it all home to taxpaying white folk like me, can you?

I'm ready to take that next step.  I'll play that role in your little Passion Play.  And I don't even need billing.  You deserve the credit for having the idea in the first place.

So like I said, come get me.  Trot me out.  Try me -- due process, undue process, whatever.  Tatoo a number on my neck.  And then do with me what you will.  Gas me and throw me in a ditch with a bunch of other "unpatriotic" folk and cover us with lye.

...

Wait, what's that?

You say you "didn't really mean it?"

All you were trying to do is get me to shut up?

Oh!

Well, my daughter will be so relieved.  Thanks for clearing that up.

And hey, listen, before I let you go, understand something: we're not going away.  We're not going to shut the fuck up.  We're going to keep fighting until the fight is won, and you can have our rights -- speech among them -- when you pry them from our cold, dead, unpatriotic hands.

And some of us do have guns.

So the next time you feel the urge to bleat about how we deserve to be incarcerated or slaughtered, ask yourself whether you're prepared to go the distance.

We are.

Originally posted to The Termite on Fri Jul 08, 2005 at 12:38 PM PDT.

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