Dear Dubyah,
You know, we’ve been working mighty hard out here to keep hate alive. My buddies and I have to get up early and load into Steve’s truck to head out to the day-laborer pick-up spots so we can harass undocumented immigrants and still make it to work on
time. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.
Mind you, I’m not complaining. I’m proud to be among the chosen few whose lot in life it is to threaten brown people. I’ve been called, and I answered without hesitation. I don’t care if nary a head of lettuce gets picked this summer—show me a wetback and he’s going to hear from me and the rest of the Minutemen. We’re vigilantes. That’s how we roll.
You mightn’t be surprised to learn that it hasn’t been all slap and tickle sticking up for you these past few years. I know you’ve noticed your poll numbers. You might have asked yourself why your approval rating is lower than a well-digger’s ass. Well, I’ll tell you why. It’s on account of folks have been jumping off your bandwagon like they’ve got Lysol on their tails. Most people aren’t exactly nuts about you, Dub, and you need to come to terms with that fact.
You also need to accept that the third-or-so of us that haven’t run away from any association with your idiocy need a stroke once in a while. Remember the time you flew onto the deck of an aircraft carrier and climbed down out of a fighter jet sporting a flight suit that made your package look ridiculously huge? That was cool. We were with you then, as we were when you rattled your saber at terrorists atop the still-smoking rubble of the World Trade Center.
So why, oh why, did you have to go and deliver a well-reasoned speech about comprehensive immigration reform just when we had things going our way? Come on, Dub. This is one
hell of a time to start making sense, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve got us some serious Mexican ass to kick and we sure as by-God don’t need no interference from the one irrational nut job we thought we could count on. We’re busy trampling migrant camps, and you just up and go on TV and tell people that all human lives have dignity. That ain’t gonna work, brother. You need to knock off the human-dignity crap right quick. Really. How are we supposed to go about hassling roach-coach drivers if you’re telling people they’ve got dignity? Dignity, my butt. They don’t have green cards, and that fact alone not only authorizes us, it mandates us to carry out our mission of harassment by any means necessary.
Now, seeing as how the overwhelming majority of Americans didn’t hear your sweet little pandering to moderation the other night (that’s what comes of being electorally posthumous in one’s own time), we’re gonna let this one slide. We owe you one for six years of race baiting, gay bashing, intrusion into women’s rights, glorification of violence and celebration of heedless machismo. But that’s it. I’ve had it up to here with the logic thing. You get a pass this time, but don’t push it. Once is enough.
And since we’re so willing to kiss and make up, we’d like a little payback. In exchange for your public faux pas, we expect you to start bombing Iran pronto. Let us handle the Mexican thing. You’ve got bigger fish to fry. We’ll deal with Jorge and Pedro; you deal with Mahmoud and Mohammed.
I hear the President of Iran had the temerity to write you a letter not long back. Rumor has it that it was 18 pages long. Frankly, I think you’d best deal with that uppity camel jockey post haste. Seriously. You’d best smite him a blow before other folks go getting ideas. I mean, if you’re just going to sit back and let heads of state fire off lengthy, thoroughly thought-out missives without repercussion, well, what has this world come to? Somebody’s got to put him and his unpronounceable surname in their place, and I think you’re the man to do it. Don’t even read that letter. Just bomb his palace.
That’s what presidents do, after all. Presidents bomb people. We don’t need a president telling us to respect the dignity of human life. If we needed that, we’d ask Jimmy Carter to run again. No sir, we don’t need a decent, compassionate, generous president. We need a president who’s hell-bent on blowing things up and cheering on the destruction of ancient civilizations. It’s your fate, it’s your duty and it’s your solemn obligation to devastate Iran while we bully illegal immigrants. You might not like it, but that’s the way it is. Live with it.
And one other thing—Lou Dobbs has been walking point on the broken-borders issue
for a good long while now and he could use some relief. It wouldn’t kill you to give Lou some on-camera kudos. He’s on the air darn near every day, some days twice or thrice. You could do him a solid and go on with him. He can shake his head and opine rhapsodically while you talk about things like securing the homeland and our common, uniting language. Lou’s a good guy. Help him out.
That’s about it, Dub. I’m sorry to have to get tough on you. I hope you know I love you, and I’m proud of you. Just knock off the tolerance and inclusiveness and everything will get back to normal. I promise.
Best wishes,
Jim Bob Earl George,
San Diego Minutemen
You know, we’ve been working mighty hard out here to keep hate alive. My buddies and I have to get up early and load into Steve’s truck to head out to the day-laborer pick-up spots so we can harass undocumented immigrants and still make it to work on
time. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.Mind you, I’m not complaining. I’m proud to be among the chosen few whose lot in life it is to threaten brown people. I’ve been called, and I answered without hesitation. I don’t care if nary a head of lettuce gets picked this summer—show me a wetback and he’s going to hear from me and the rest of the Minutemen. We’re vigilantes. That’s how we roll.
You mightn’t be surprised to learn that it hasn’t been all slap and tickle sticking up for you these past few years. I know you’ve noticed your poll numbers. You might have asked yourself why your approval rating is lower than a well-digger’s ass. Well, I’ll tell you why. It’s on account of folks have been jumping off your bandwagon like they’ve got Lysol on their tails. Most people aren’t exactly nuts about you, Dub, and you need to come to terms with that fact.
You also need to accept that the third-or-so of us that haven’t run away from any association with your idiocy need a stroke once in a while. Remember the time you flew onto the deck of an aircraft carrier and climbed down out of a fighter jet sporting a flight suit that made your package look ridiculously huge? That was cool. We were with you then, as we were when you rattled your saber at terrorists atop the still-smoking rubble of the World Trade Center.
So why, oh why, did you have to go and deliver a well-reasoned speech about comprehensive immigration reform just when we had things going our way? Come on, Dub. This is one
hell of a time to start making sense, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve got us some serious Mexican ass to kick and we sure as by-God don’t need no interference from the one irrational nut job we thought we could count on. We’re busy trampling migrant camps, and you just up and go on TV and tell people that all human lives have dignity. That ain’t gonna work, brother. You need to knock off the human-dignity crap right quick. Really. How are we supposed to go about hassling roach-coach drivers if you’re telling people they’ve got dignity? Dignity, my butt. They don’t have green cards, and that fact alone not only authorizes us, it mandates us to carry out our mission of harassment by any means necessary.Now, seeing as how the overwhelming majority of Americans didn’t hear your sweet little pandering to moderation the other night (that’s what comes of being electorally posthumous in one’s own time), we’re gonna let this one slide. We owe you one for six years of race baiting, gay bashing, intrusion into women’s rights, glorification of violence and celebration of heedless machismo. But that’s it. I’ve had it up to here with the logic thing. You get a pass this time, but don’t push it. Once is enough.
And since we’re so willing to kiss and make up, we’d like a little payback. In exchange for your public faux pas, we expect you to start bombing Iran pronto. Let us handle the Mexican thing. You’ve got bigger fish to fry. We’ll deal with Jorge and Pedro; you deal with Mahmoud and Mohammed.
I hear the President of Iran had the temerity to write you a letter not long back. Rumor has it that it was 18 pages long. Frankly, I think you’d best deal with that uppity camel jockey post haste. Seriously. You’d best smite him a blow before other folks go getting ideas. I mean, if you’re just going to sit back and let heads of state fire off lengthy, thoroughly thought-out missives without repercussion, well, what has this world come to? Somebody’s got to put him and his unpronounceable surname in their place, and I think you’re the man to do it. Don’t even read that letter. Just bomb his palace.
That’s what presidents do, after all. Presidents bomb people. We don’t need a president telling us to respect the dignity of human life. If we needed that, we’d ask Jimmy Carter to run again. No sir, we don’t need a decent, compassionate, generous president. We need a president who’s hell-bent on blowing things up and cheering on the destruction of ancient civilizations. It’s your fate, it’s your duty and it’s your solemn obligation to devastate Iran while we bully illegal immigrants. You might not like it, but that’s the way it is. Live with it.
And one other thing—Lou Dobbs has been walking point on the broken-borders issue
for a good long while now and he could use some relief. It wouldn’t kill you to give Lou some on-camera kudos. He’s on the air darn near every day, some days twice or thrice. You could do him a solid and go on with him. He can shake his head and opine rhapsodically while you talk about things like securing the homeland and our common, uniting language. Lou’s a good guy. Help him out.That’s about it, Dub. I’m sorry to have to get tough on you. I hope you know I love you, and I’m proud of you. Just knock off the tolerance and inclusiveness and everything will get back to normal. I promise.
Best wishes,
Jim Bob Earl George,
San Diego Minutemen
No comments:
Post a Comment