Errata.

Stop. Don't read this. It's inferior. Instead, go here. Read this.

It's what I would have written if I was far more thoughtful and talented.

Thank you for your cooperation.


Shame on you, you coward.

Shame on you, you odious toady.

Shame on you, you whiny-ass titty baby.

Shame on you, you gutless bastard.

You took an oath to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America. And now you've voted to suspend rights guaranteed by that Constitution. The right to confront accusers. The right to a fair and public trial. The right of habeas corpus.


You've given war criminals political and legal cover for their crimes. You've voted for a law that legalizes torture, and lets the executive say what degree of torture is and isn't legal, and in so doing, you've taken a giant dump on the doctrine of separation of powers. You've encouraged our enemies to disregard the Geneva Convention, and dragged us down from the moral high ground we once possessed with pride.

I might as well be represented by the bloated, festering corpse of fucking Jesse Helms. You're a punk. You make me puke.

Editor's note: If you haven't read it lately, Sinclair Lewis' prescient novel, It Can't Happen Here is available online as part of the Gutenberg Project. Read it before Senator Rockefeller makes it illegal.