Now they come for my flag
Not even under penalty of death, will I surrender her. These agents of darkness, these escapees from Beelzebub's cloaca. Now they come for my flag. Telling me I'm not entitled to fly a flag. Telling me I'm not a patriot. I am not qualified to express my love of country. Or of course recently (beyond any and all belief), Tom Hanks telling me I am not American (wanna see my f*cking Birth Certificate b*tch? Huh ... do ya? Ya lil cunny).
Now is the time. To go purchase a weapon. Now is the time to take a very hard, serious, emotionless look at your household budget. And make that realization that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance. And that isn't free. It costs. The Republic is now under attack. From without, by militant radical Islam, and her inumerable disciples. And scarily, from within. By the warped roil of fascism now sweeping the land. Introduce yourself to your local proprietor. Buy a gun. Learn how to use it. Practice. Our lives, our world, our very way of life. Are in an all to real, unmistakable jeopardy.
Use it or lose it.
This is not a game. This is not a joke. This is not a drill.
Yet more despicable, olfactory displeasure from ... the L.A. Daily News. And of course (guess who), editor Carolina Garcia. Running back to back opinion pieces, over the course of this Fourth of July holiday. Attacking the patriotism of conservatives. Day before yesterday, giving space to Al Martinez, who takes a big giant sh*t, upon those who never wore the uniform. And yesterday, Garcia rents space to one Steve Vlasich, who proceeds to walk his horse (with full bladder) over for good measure. To piss on us faux patriots, telling us also, to STFU [but somehow, strangely, inexplicably manages to reference one Bernie Madoff (wink wink)].
Very Highly Edited for Clarity
Al Martinez 07/01/2009
(This) Indepedence Day .... I'm not flying a flag ... turned down an invitation to speak at a patriotic ceremony ... declined to participate in a parade. I'm (not) unpatriotic. This is a marvelous country born of glowing ideals with an opportunity under our new president to regain the respect we lost under the nitwit who was running the country from a rocking horse.
I was in Korea for more than a year ... War is as painful ... I don't write about the Korean War very often ... I knew a kid, barely 19, the life of Fox Company, who was showered with white phosphorous when a mortar round exploded near him .. set him aflame. His shriek ... full of agonizing realities as the phosphorous burned ...
I honor those who step forward to sacrifice themselves .... (But Please) Don't say "thank you" to a combat vet for serving ... just say "I'm sorry" ... And then next time around vote to make the hawks who love war the first to go into battle. We'll have one hell of a lot fewer wars when they discover up close what it's all about.
Martinez, standing atop the graves of the fallen, feet firmly planted on the soil holding their remains. Beaming, proudly. Not waving the Stars and Stripes, but frothily, rabidly twirling his own personal, partisan political flag. Telling us we are not worthy, of expressing our patriotism. We are incapable. We are disqualified. By virtue of our life arc (and would we please just shut the f*ck up already). For only he. Only Al Martinez can. By virtue of his past service. And only he, and he alone can enter any foreign policy discussions. Express an opinion. Everyone else? Should be sent to the front lines. For a little bullet catching.
In our unfettered expression of love of country. In deep resonant belief in her. In freedom, and democracy. And of course ... not just for us, but for others. Because of that we are cowards. Unfit. Our love of country is invalid. Our hopes for freedom for others, same. Only those who have been subjected to war's ravages, on a formally declared battlefield, with clear lines of demarcation. Can speak. Can speak up. Can speak out. Unapologetic .... depravity.
War is already here Al. It has already arrived. In New York City, on September 11, 2001. In streets and cities around the world. In houses of worship, churches, and in temples. On the streets of Tehran. In railway stations in India. Human beings are being slaughtered. Blood flows. A horrific great river runs.
Militant radical Islam is not content just and only to murder. No Sir. They taking a heretofore unknown pride, and pleasure, in human slaughter. The likes of which the world has never known. Mutilating the genitalia of a Rabbi, and his pregnant wife. As they lay slain in their house of worship.
While much of America is tearily convulsing, together ... hand in hand with MSM. Raising a deranged child molester, a serial sexual predator of children, up to the fanfare and glory of Sainthood. Militant radical Islam marches. Throughout the world. Killing. Destroying. With abandon. These disinfo agents, Garcia, Martinez and Vlasich, seek to distract. These self badged agents seek to silence. To cloud. To mask. To hide. That a lunatic associate of the Muslim Brotherhood, born in Mombasa Kenya. Supra-constitutionally occupies the White House. Hellbent on the speedy, rapid destruction of America. Smilingly indifferent, as the death cult advances around the globe. Maybe, possibly even welcoming it.
Feel free ... to try and take my flag Al, and Steve. Go ahead. Try. Feel free ... to tell me to shut up. Go ahead. Try. In your feeble ingorance. I wouldn't have it any other way. In my America, everyone is given a voice. Everyone is given A vote. Even the completely unhinged lunatic fringe, that now comprises the heart and soul of the Democratic Party.
To my readers, to those who still take pride in America. Who still believe in the ideals of freedom and democracy. On this day, celebrating the founding of this great nation. I wish you a most heartfelt, a most sincere HAPPY FOURTH of JULY!