Diary of a Revolutionist: Day One

Dear Diary,

The unthinkable has occurred. Democracy in my sacred homeland is dead. The will of the people, as expressed both through their representatives and via plebiscite, has been overturned by an unelected cabal of men and women drawn from the ranks of foreign nationals and rootless cosmopolitans. As I once declared, having in my futurist wisdom seen that such a disaster would come to pass—I will act to destroy that government and bring it down—and now I must act. I have already retreated into the wilds beyond my home and community. The Target store is out of my line of sight, and as I penetrate deeper into the countryside, soon too will even the Super Wal-Mart be hidden from me. I will be separated from so-called "civilization", alone for the moment, but soon the People will come to me.

I knew that the United States would come to this years ago. When heterosexuality itself—and homosexualist implications—was weaponized and used against supporters of American Idol contestant Constantine Maroulis, the hand of Heavenly Father reached down and inscribed a warning on the wall. Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin! Constantine and Beau Bice; defenders of traditional marriage and out-of-control liberal fascists. Every fight is out fight. And Lord willing, we shall be victorious.

This war is a holy war. Many will be called, and few will be chosen. I am a moderate Democrat. Other moderate Democrats will surely hear my call. We have dug deep deep roots within society, despite the attempts of the mass media, the state, of B. Hussein Obama himself, and of his lackeys Simon Cowell and Randy Jackson to yank us up by the roots and fill our deep holes. This shall be a focoist revolution—we shall turn the radical chic of Guevara, and his impish smile—against the radicals who have overthrown our government.


(My thinspiration!)

And like radicals, we will place ourselves at the bottom, and do our work in secret, in the dark. Operation: Mineshaft begins today. Fear not, little boys—nobody will ever mock you for having to like little girls again. Young men, come join us in the bush, and let us spend day and night together, grinding against the strictures of this fascist society. No more will people mock traditional marriage, traditional undergarments, or say to me "You're the sci-fi guy named what...? You mean like the invisible fattie from Mork and Mindy? Na-no na-no, nerd!" I'll miss my wife and children, but truly it is for the best that I raise my revolutionary army. Now men must go our own way, and carry out focoist revolutionary activity. Come, let me see your FOCO-face!


(Another former moderate ally! But all I need is twenty minutes alone with him out here in the bush...)

We are right, so we shall one. One, two, many revolutions. One, two, many Provo, Utahs. Fear not, people of the United States, soon we shall save you from the spectacle of gay men dancing with joy in the streets. I am thinking of you especially, young men of our great land. Though I must separate myself from a corrupt society, I will never leave my buddy's buddies behind.

America, I shall avenge you.

Constantine, I love you.