So I just got this e-mail from a cow-orker. I expect it’s already made some rounds, but the gist of it is that it’s a history test. The questions pertain to various terrorist events, bombings, massacres, and so forth, with multiple choice answers; three of which are absurd (“Mother Theresa, Mahatma Ghandi, Jimmy Carter”) and the last, which is highlighted, bolded, and just in case you are terminally blind, rendered in a larger, bright red font, “Muslim male extremist between the ages of 17 and 40”.
I’m getting really sick of this shit. No, sorry, let me rephrase:
I’m getting really sick of this shit!
My collegues are a bunch of goddamned, xenophobic, hyper-nationalistic, fundamentalist Christian, jingoist, diarrhetic assholes! I mean, yeah, the company is a defense contractor; I kind of expect them to send e-mails telling us how we need to vote for Bush. I’m resigned to the “Pray for X” e-mails I get a minimum of three times a day. The company propaganda is a given of course. But this bigoted, “fuck the the sand-niggers” attitude belongs in Southern Missouri, not fuckin’ California.
Hey, you want to believe that the earth is 6000 years old? Good on ya, mate. You think we need to reinstitute the draft? Well, as long as you ship your kids out first. You think the UN is a front for a giant conspiracy against America? Whatever. Go back to listening to “Coast to Coast AM” and leave me alone.
But I don’t need to filter through your fucking bigotry on my office e-mail. I don’t need to see pictures of Iraqi people blown to bits, with a caption like “Achoo!” It’s not clever. It’s not funny. It’s not even human. Fuckwits.
And don’t even get me started on my cow-orker that thinks we need to neutron bomb Mexico “to keep ‘em greasers from takin’ our jobs”. You mean the shitty, sub-minimum wage, below the radar jobs that keep your textile, produce, and construction prices affordable, you hebetudinous asshole?
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
Hhhhhh.
You know, that $15 for a charter membership was the best money I’ve ever spent.
Are your cow-ankers as inane as mine?
Stranger