I have a confession. I — unlike Jim Webb — am a boor. And in this diary I will not hold back with any of my boorish behaviour. Every day that I see your petulant vacant inhumanity splashed across my monitor I beg that you will be eventually put in a special place in hell. A place that will force you to witness your past insensitivity to all that is decent on this planet. Indeed, a place that is eagerly insensitive to your needs. A very very lonely place that has no apologists like George Will to defend your sorry pampered ass.
“I call upon all nations to to everything they can to stop these terrorist killings. Thank you. Now watch this drive.”
In Hell, you will become inflicted with Parkinson’s disease and the devil will shadow box with you.
In Hell, you will be made fully aware of your dyslexia with everyone around you mimicking the way you talk.
In Hell, you will experience the effects of White Phosphorus, while the Devil continually shouts in your ear, “Nope. No WMDs here…or HERE!!”
In Hell, you will be told that your daughters have died in a needless war as the Devil chides you by calling you “Dad” for eternity.
In Hell, the Devil will serenade you with his guitar, adorned with the seal of the souless, as you experience the effectiveness of waterboarding.
In Hell, you will be humiliated and scorned and told how inferior and insignificant you really are. Every day. Every hour. Every second. Every moment.
In Hell, you will feel the entire weight of the thousands of men and women who died and were seriously maimed unjustifiably for this flag that you stepped on.
