Well, apparently I have been zotted by Free Republic for disrespecting the idiotic Birthers who inhabit the place. No big deal. In fact, it is kind of amusing to think of all the rugged individualistic Birthers begging the moderators or whoever to protect them from a mere slip of a Girl Reporter. It is reassuring to know that the Truth still instills panic and fear in the hearts of liars and con artists.
My latest act of heresy was to point out that one of the Birthers had launched a personal attack against Judge Malihi who recently ruled against the Birthers in Georgia. And, had done so without ever having bothered to read the court decision upon which Malihi relied. Ouch!!! I bet that did hurt.
Here is a link to the thread in which I was zotted. In typical Birther fashion, I note that they accuse me of being a shill for Obama, and as proof, present a poem I wrote slamming the heck out of Obama. OMG, what a bunch of idiots. The real fun starts at post number 95.
A friend there managed to smuggle out some pictures of the behind the scenes activity which led to my zotting, including the image above. Thank you Undercover Freeper!!!
No, I didn’t. I put a curse on her. I didn’t even know she had a cow.
Yep. They got me on that one! Guilty as charged.
I wouldn’t know nothing about that, but I bet most of them were impotent to begin with. Oops, was that harsh???
True dat!!! What a stupid twit he is.
Hmmm. I wasn’t aware that the Birthers there did any actual thinking. Maybe she is referring to the Echo Chamber I refused to join???
Oh, puhleeeaase!!! How pathetic!!!
Well, if you go around telling lies and making up Imaginary Laws, you ought to get teased. So There!!! And finally, and I think this is what probably pushed the moderators over the edge to zot me:
OH, BS!!! It’s because I beat you stupid Birthers like carpets over a clothesline WITH LOGIC and you little titty babies couldn’t take it. But, I am not mad or anything, because when a person suffers for telling the truth, then that is a good thing. I will get stars in my crown in Heaven for having stuck to my guns. I love the poetry of Emily Dickinson, and this poem seems to fit this situation:
I Died For Beauty
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth – the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a-night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.