Sunday, October 01, 2006

Ah! Success!

I seem to have developed a fan club of sorts, a small group of rightwingers who are angered enough by what I write to return again and again to this blog--driving my numbers up each day for the past week or so.

What makes them really bonkers is that I moderate comments on this blog, and won't let their comments get past the gate. They call that "censorship," showing they have but a hazy understanding of that concept.

If they would submit comments that went beyond ad hominim attacks and insults, they might find the comments accepted--but I suspect they don't really want them accepted. By throwing out insults that they know I will never post on my own blog (why would I host insults about me?), they can flatter themselves, saying they have proved that liberals don't believe in free debate.

As I have said before, after 40 years of trying to treat the right with respect--but getting no respect back--we liberals have had it. We will still debate, sure, but it has to be on our terms--honest, to the point, and showing desire to learn.

That aside, I want use an old song to help explain just why I am just so angry with the right--a couple of verses of a song called "Here's to the State of Richard Nixon" by Phil Ochs. I substituted "George Dubya Bush" for "Richard Nixon"--and it's eerie just how well the verses work today. What's horrifying is how just the lies of more than thirty years ago are heaped upon us again in 2006. For the last six years we have been taking them in with a smile. It's time we stop. And it's time we started to verbalize the truth: It's Bush who is unAmerican, who is against everything that has made this country great. I wish he would leave, so we could make this country great again.

And here's to the schools, George Dubya Bush,
Where they're teaching all the children they don't have to care.
All the rudiments of hatred are present everywhere
And every single classroom is a factory of despair;
Oh, there's nobody learnin' such as foreign word as fair.
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of;
George Dubya Bush, find yourself another country to be part of.

And here's to the laws, George Dubya Bush,
Where the wars are fought in secret, Pearl Harbor every day.
He punishes with income tax that he don't have to pay
And he's tapping his own brother just to hear what he would say,
But corruption can be classic in the George Dubya Bush way.
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of;
George Dubya Bush, find yourself another country to be part of.

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