The Freepers' Motto

We don't care. This subhuman species gathers in darkened rooms, peering into computer screens festooned with flickering flags while they grunt approvingly at each other in monosylables. They call themselves the Free Republic.

You're only free to join them if you're a confirmed neanderthal and a total jerk. You also need some "clever" screen name like "Shoot to kill" or "Hot pants Patriotic Mama." Substantive conversation will be punished and the offender banished for life. Nothing but empty White House slogans peppered liberally with emoticons are allowed. These folks talk big but the truth of the matter is if "Shoot to kill" ever had to face down the barrel of an enemy gun, he would probably "shit his pants."

They organize an attack against a grieving mother in desperate haste and with unremitting hate. She threatens their spotlight and their legitimacy, having become overnight the living symbol of real Americans and their dissatisfaction with our President. She is the omen that portends their demise into an ignored fringe group of hapless fanatics.

These poseurs are the sludge at the bottom of the gene pool's septic tank. They are Bush's power base. Kind of says it all about his "legacy," don't you think?