Editor’s Note: Bear in mind that Belacqua is usually baked when he writes his letters. He feels this raises his vision to the level of transcendent genius.
Dear George,
On the evening of your glorious victory it is time to fling our eyes forward to your next term, and to cast off and set sail into the setting sun of the American Republic. Yes, the Republic is dying, George, just as the day is destined to die. And it is incumbent upon us to quicken its demise so our nation can rise up to meet the destiny that is our divine entitlement.
You see, we have a pebble in the political shoe that is a source of annoyance and discomfort. And that pebble is a democracy that has not yet reached maturity. Freedom sucks! It breeds crime and disorder. (Remember the 60s?) The problem is that the ultimate expression of participatory democracy is the messy mob. It’s time to cut loose the anchor of democracy that keeps dragging us down into the quagmire of freedom. Democracy fragments and from this fragmentation comes conflict. Authority unifies, and from this unity comes cohesive efficiency. We live in an age of speed as dictated by the computer chip; but, our politics are driven by the sluggish vacuum tube of democracy.
The archaic love of freedom must be replaced by love of the flag. (Do you savor the irony, George? Every flag that is displayed drives another nail into democracy’s coffin.)
A word of caution—do not make the mistake of trying to squash democracy beneath the iron heel of oppression. That was yesterday’s fashion. Instead, we are going to expand democracy, bring it to maturation. In short, we are going to give the public “extreme democracy,” a democracy whose net will ensnare everybody equally. It’s a democracy based on the sound management theory that good is bad and bad is good.
In extreme democracy you are free to do as you please as long as you do it within the confines of your prison cell. But, we change the meaning of “cell.” They’ll be no 19th Century chambers of horror for us. Gone will be the dank, concrete cells, the filth-soaked straw, the rats and the lice. The 21st Century cell will boast central air, zoned heating, home entertainment centers, game stations, designer kitchens, and Jacuzzis. In short, the prison cell of today will be the American home. Here, incarceration becomes recreation. It is here that we create the ultimate Prozac nation spacing out on the multicolored images dancing across a screen. You see, George, the best prison is the one in which the cell doors are left open and the main gate is unlocked.
Do it slowly. Don’t rush, don’t show your hand. When the trap snaps shut the people will be so in love with the jaws they won’t even think of trying to break free. They will see the pain as a therapeutic growth experience.
And so the sun will rise on a happy and contented America, an America envied by the world for its unity, for its orderliness and for its good behavior.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones
2:26:46 PM 
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