It’s not my country anymore. I want it back! And I don’t care how we do it. Like the woman who stabbed her husband 37 times, I have to admire her restraint.

I was amused when a country club once informed me – in so many words – that I couldn’t join its registry.

It has always been ludicrous.

Consider that Groucho Marx was once told in southern California that he and his three daughters couldn’t join a swim club. And Groucho retorted that since his daughters were only half-Jewish would it be okay if they only went halfway into the water — up to their waists?

Over 30 years ago when I was about to join a tennis club I realized there were no black members. So I said I couldn’t participate in a club that wasn’t color blind. And soon thereafter, the dynamics and demographics of the club changed.

Indeed, politics, civil rights and economics do instigate a little spare change. Some lily-white men’s clubs were forced, by prevailing dynamics, to allow Jews and Irish and Blacks and (g-d forbid) women into their midst!

Change does creep in at times – even though they keep changing the rule book. In fact, we are told biblically and otherwise, that good things come to those who wait. But did you ever think that the things that come to us who wait may be nothing more than the stuff left behind by those who got there first?

Hmmm…

So don’t go thinking that life will rightfully treat you fairly just because you’ve been good. That’s like thinking that bull won’t charge because you are a vegetarian.

So, let me ask you what you probably already know: Did you ever feel like you didn’t really belong where you rightly are supposed to belong?

Like you didn’t really belong to your high school where you went and your parents supported with their tax dollars. It always seemed like there was an ‘in’ group of popular kids that controlled most things.

Same thing with your hometown. Or where you went to college. Or even you own bloody country.

I’ve always felt like an outsider. As if I never belonged anywhere. No doubt why I enjoyed being a journalist. Only dropping in for a visit and an adventure into other folks’ lives.

But I got over it. Kind of. Just like that young Egyptian man I read about recently. He was watching the historic trial of his former dictatorial leader Hosni Mubarak on human rights violations as well as duplicity in the killing of protestors.

He said, like others, that he never felt part of his native country that was ruled unmercifully. But now, after Egypt’s mostly bloodless revolution and as the Mubarak’s trial proceeds, he’s starting to.

It was the protests of the 60s and 70s that turned my head. And kept turning it like that demon-possessed girl in the ‘Exorcist’.

We know, historically, that our government troops were used by big business and political flunkies to throttle the poor, the tired yearning to be free.

They murdered miners in Ludlow, Colorado, who refused to work in unsafe conditions; shot organizing workers in Chicago’s Haymarket; killed American Indians who had nothing left to refuse; gunned down war protestors at Kent State and Jackson State, and civil rights workers in Mississippi.

There was the Vietnam War that was proven to be nothing more than a venal farce. And today in Washington we still have those mentally incinerated misanthropes who continue to harass our freedom of speech.

Why do we continually allow such bullies and thugs to be the ‘in’ people and us the outsiders? Especially when it is they who are usually the invidious, deleterious, feces that should be flushed away.

Why is it that people like a corrupt erstwhile V.P. Spiro Agnew and Bush’s V.P. Dick inflict wars and bankrupt us? Same with Ollie North and his noxious Iran-contra Affair. And dirty, dirty, dirty G. Gordon Liddy.

And how about U.S. Attorneys John Mitchell under Nixon and Ashcroft under Bush? Their malicious iniquities, malevolence and immoral behavior was allowed to run amok.

Of course, we have to mention J. Edgar Hoover, not just because he was a cross-dresser but because he forgot the cardinal rule that power corrupts the little, over-circumcised, Napoleonic winkies  ‘over-peeking’ into everybody’s bedroom windows.

The list abounds. Such shameless philistines – and I shouldn’t even get into the biggest cesspool of the last 80 years: ‘W’ Bush.

Folks, I guess we all have to get over our inferiority complex. And just not care what the so called “in” crowd thinks. Because they obviously don’t. A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.

Why is it we let these pugnacious punks mislead us into a war against Weapons of Mass Destruction and then spread it over to Afghanistan? Bush lands on a carrier deck – and to his eternal damnation – crows that the war is over.

He later saluted “Brownie” for screwing up so well in New Orleans and Katrina. All the while, bridges collapsed along our infrastructure. And, public schools are left so far behind, the system is simply crumpling.

Our destiny is being usurped by these morons and mental midgets that have stolen the same inane world where we also supposedly belong.

When McNamara wrote his mea culpa for misleading and lying to us about Vietnam, what changed? Would all the money he and others misappropriated give back the lives and years stolen from of our dead and emotional distraught?

As a society we need to forgive less and punish more. These sons and daughters of female canines ought to be spayed, castrated and transgendered. Otherwise it will never end. We require a cathartic cleansing.

We can’t wait for them to change. For the old saw remains: As much as these bastards swear and promise on a stack of holy grails before their pleading mothers, the only thing that changes is what they steal.

I want my country back!  I want it now! And I no longer care how I get it. I don’t care if it is through the teenage mobs in Philadelphia, or the disparate outsiders mobbing through London.

My only cautionary tale is let’s not menace each other so much as the boys and girls in City Hall and State Houses and Congress. And all their consultants, lawyers and other so-called experts.

Let’s give them something to remember. For as I’ve said many times we should make a noise so deafening while we are alive, that when we are gone the silence will even be more deafening.

Some folks will try to tsk-tsk that violence is the repartee of the illiterate. And they are right. But so what. In violence, we all forget who we are. We are all momentarily ignorant. We all lose our humanity.

Yet, in war, the object is not to die humanely while fighting to get back our country that the other guys stole — but to inhumanely kill those bastards for stealing it.

It’s like the woman who stabbed her husband 37 times. There are times, like these, when you have to admire her restraint.

And dats yDrewIS on DIS penal colony.

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