Dear George,
It’s time to firm up the civic belly which has become a bit flabby. Our national abs have gone from six-pack to no-pack. If we wish to spread autocratic democracy to the ends of the earth we’re going to need a political tummy tuck.
George, it’s time for a national altar call—you must call America to the altar of sacrifice. You must transform this country from one that shops ‘til it drops to one that attacks ‘til it drops.
This transformation will require both passion and clarity of thought. Let’s face it; patriotism is a synonym for blood lust expressed as an intense desire to smush the vilified “other.” And patriotism’s fertilizer is jingoism, the spiritual belief that our country is the center of the universe; that our wisdom is the world’s wisdom; that our way is God’s way. We need a people willing to pick up Christ’s sword of redemption and cut a bloody swath through humanity.
Out of the roiling waves of the patriotic gale rises the volcanic atoll of duty. “Duty” is the all-purpose buzz word that compels an otherwise sane man to do the insane, i.e., die for a cause. Duty surges forth on a rip tide of passion and imagery to which the children of America will respond. You supply the passion; the media will supply the imagery. To the cry of,” Let’s roll!” let loose hordes of hyperactive youth bent on a global scorched-earth policy leaving in their wake a shattered and barren world ready to be reconstructed in our image.
Since 9/11 we have been living under the dangling sword of terrorism. Annihilation will shatter that sword, the shards of which will be pounded into firing pins as the prophet hath enjoined.
As the psalmist wrote:
Crush mine enemies
O George
Beneath the bunions
Of thy wrath.
…or should have written.
All praise to thee and the power of thy mighty arm. Endow us with the strength to fell the aliens just as the reaper fells the wheat.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones
12:59:51 PM 
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