Monday, March 26, 2007

the smirking fascists

But as night falls we notice in that all those swords the smirking fascists are wielding are all pointed inward. Pointed at us. Because the Modern Conservative is a creature most at home in a murky, twilight despotism. A beast which thrives best in hate and shadow. They are democracy’s retrovirus, and it is exactly these indispensable nodes of secrecy that Conservatives have worked tirelessly to invade, infect and pervert.

The quick litmus test for telling friend from foe -- for whiffing out the spoor of the Enemy -- is His ceaseless, escalating demands for ever more secrecy. Ever less accountability. You will know Him by the blinds he sets, by the way He tirelessly pits the landscape of democracy with new sunless, extra-Constitutional grottos where His eggs can be laid and kindred can breed and prosper.

You will know Him because you have been warned about his coming since childhood.

You know Him by his stink, because every characteristic our Founders warned us to guard against as the harbinger of tyranny is now clear and present all around us: Not tastefully rouged and swaddled away like genital warts on Lady Liberty’s bikini area, but on proud, raging display as GOP foundational values.

You will know Him because each time he erects a new baffle to screen His crimes, He tells us that the lives of our children are in danger if we don’t let him steal a little more of our freedom.

You will know Him because each and every time anyone dares to execrcise the single most fundamental right of every citizen in a democracy -- calling some facet of His swaggering, brownshirt imbecility into question -- we hear magpie shrieks of “Traitor” from his squirmy minions.

And now that is ending, and the revolution is at hand.

Not tomorrow. Not someday. Today. Right here.

And it starts so humbly.

With an election and a trial.

Imagine that?

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