Writing 'bout Gitmo
Dick Durbin. You know what he said. Bad things.
"Pol Pot gulag Nazi marines. I hate America". That's a paraphrase, but I
believe it captures the essence of his statement quite clearly. Where is the
move to put this man to death? The culture has drifted my friends, drifted
towards the slimy seaweed cesspools of the Sargasso Sea, which the liberals,
of course, would like to spend your tax dollars in harvesting. Cars that run
on seaweed? Don't make me giggle Albert Gore.
Sen. Teddy Kennedy says he cannot condone allegations of near-drowning "as a human being." That just makes me laugh aloud, that alcoholic talking about drowning in anything other than a pool of his own puke. He certainly didn't seem to mind the concept of drowning back in 1969 when he drove Mary Jo Kopechne off a bridge and into icy waters, resulting in her death as well as the death of all her unborn children, one of whom might have grown up and discovered the cure for Aids, which the liberals seem to care about more than their own soldiers. I guess that's because they're more likely to get Aids than they are to get a clue.
I'm thinking that right now might be a good time for some bullet points. I get a lot of mail about my bullet points, much of it positive. So here we go, five Ann Coulter torture guidelines that should be acceptable to even the wackiest members of the lunatic left.
It's not torture if
I could probably come up with a hundred things that aren't torture if I put my mind to it, like Bar 89 on Mercer Street. Oh god, you've got to try their Tartini. It's made with Charbay Ruby Red Grapefruit Vodka and guava nectar, and it has a hefty slice of mango on the side. Five or six of those and you won't be hungry again for hours.
Hold on, hold on, I know I'm already at seven hundred words, but I haven't made a Clinton joke yet. Okay, here's something else that's not torture - if you're treated the same way that interns were in the Clinton White House. Hee, hee, hee. That didn't make sense.
Good Lord, this Camp Gitmo thing would be laughable if it were not so funny. You know the drill. Lemon chicken. Volleyball. Free Korans. Two kinds of fruit. Air conditioning. Cable TV. Sesame chicken. Pets on premises. Agatha Christie mysteries in Arabic. Teriyaki chicken with cashews. Oh the drudgery.
It could be said that we all live in a prison to some degree or another. The prison of our ideologies, the prison of our fears, the prison that we create every time we look out into the world with cynical eyes. It could be said that we're all prisoners in this life. But you'll never hear it from me.
©2005, Mark Hoback