deal

Dear Gay Republicans,

Hi, it's TRex and I was wondering if we could talk some time real soon.  I know we've had our differences in the past and all, and that some of the things I have said about you self-hating, traitorous, invertebrate bitchez have been less than kind.  But I also understand that things have gotten a little uncomfortable for y'all over there in the stuffy, dirty closets of RNC headquarters of late, so I thought that out of the goodness of my heart, I would offer you this one last opportunity for polite discourse before the November elections come and a Democratic Congress proceeds to hose down your lives with shit-sauce on the one side while the Christian Right try to burn you at the stake on the other.

Never mind that we told you so.  Never mind that all this time you've surely known at some level that your affiliation with the Republican Party was wrong.  The Mark Foley debacle is a grenade in the gay GOP foxhole.  This scandal has legs.  Mark Foley's legs.  And they're in the air.  With the elections a month away, the Reich Wing is going to be looking for a scapegoat, and guess who that's going to be?  Funny how things work out, isn't it?

After all the mass deception, all the media manipulation, the phony war, the thousands of dead, the cronyism, the corruption, the incompetence,  the bullying and intimidation, the bashing of all that is sensible and scientific, the looting of the treasury, and the serial mutilation of our Consititution, the issue that has finally slipped the noose around the elephant's neck is a Big Gay Congressman and his predilection for stalking underage boys.  At this juncture, there is no worse position in Washington to be in (well, besides maybe underneath Mark Foley) than to be a Gay Republican.

No matter that your operatives have been an integral part of the lube job that enabled the Neocons to bugger this country senseless. No matter that you are arrayed as high up into your party's power structure as the eye can see (and beyond!).  The same rock-throwing villagers who would come after all of us Reality-Based Gays are now mounting up the road to your (terribly expensive, overdecorated) castle, lighting their torches and waving their pitchforks high in the air.  

Jeff Gannon, David Dreier, Ken Mehlman (and et tu, Huckleberry?), welcome to your own Night of the Long Knives.  There aren't enough buses in the entire Distict of Columbia to handle the sheer number of you who are about to be thrown beneath their merciless wheels.  I have wondered before whether it was going to be your cognitive dissonance or the party faithful's that would be first to reach critical mass and send you flying headlong out of the GOP's revival tent.  Well, now I know.  

And it figures.  I mean, I guess it was inevitable that the Talibangelicals would be the ones trying to purge the gays from the Republican Party and not the other way around because apparently nothing short of death camps was going to convince you all that working for those lying, murderous fuckers was anything but a fantastic idea.  What could possibly go wrong?

The next few weeks are going to be bloody.  Ugly as hell.  You are all about to be flushed from the closet like covey of farm-raised quail from the underbrush.  And somebody's about to get shot in the face.

But we may be able to help you.  See, there's one of two ways we can go about this.

As a representative of the Gay Mafia, I am prepared to offer excellent terms to you on behalf of my capo.  You can be driven forth and shot from the sky by battalion after battalion of bloodthirsty muckrakers and satirists like myself, no salacious detail of your secret lives too dirty or shameful to serve up for the titilation and amusement of our readers…

-OR!-

You can come along quietly and accept the role of captured Nazi rocket scientists.  We know that you know where all the bodies are buried.  That's something you can take to the bank with every sell-out.  You've been willing to carry water other operatives wouldn't carry.  You've been buying your position among them by being willing to prove your loyalty again and again, to go above and beyond the call of duty, to do jobs that their other drones wouldn't do.  

So, spill it.  Come on over to our side and we'll do what we can to offer you amnesty, but at a price.  Your crimes are such that we cannot let you off with impunity.  You are going to need to provide us with some information.

Or you can stay where you are and try your luck at the hands of the bloodthirsty mob.  I think I can hear them off in the distance now.  What's that they're chanting over and over?  It sounds like, "THE CHIL-DREN, THE CHIL-DREN, THE CHIL-DREN!!"

I think once they get in here there won't enough left of you guys to fit in the top of an aspirin bottle.  You might want to think fast.  This is your Hour of the Wolf.

Let us know what you decide. 

Ta-taaaaaaaaa,

T. Rex, Esq.

P.S. You can't bring Matt Drudge.  No amnesty for him!  Leave him for the villagers. 

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