Fred Phelps is dead at 84. Finally.
I hope they've hired someone to clean the toilets and polish the dance floor at his grave.
When I think about how some asshole like Phelps manages to live to be 84 and my dad -- a WWII vet, so, one of the people he hated -- only made it to 76, it just fucking infuriates me. The cheek can only be turned so many times, and this guy's chances ran out years ago.
Hopefully the IRS will investigate Westboro now that he's gone and put those bastards out of business.
I hate to celebrate the death of anyone, but that piece of shit has a space reserved in Hell.
I keep reading things that suggest this attitude is no different that the one Phelps held, and that we should reach out and be more understanding. I call bullshit.
We do not hate our enemies enough. To understand this is to understand why the GOP is not in power today. When I was a kid, the idea in a fight was to get at least a lunch while the kid beating you up was getting a square meal. By that standard, today's GOP politicians are starving to death and the CommieProgs are eating 12-course banquets.
The time for being Mr. Milquetoast Nice Guy is over. If Rand Paul were to go all Preston Brooks on Harry Reid on the floor of the Senate, I'd go over to him in a heartbeat. Somebody PLEASE prove to me that folks on the right are ready to go to war to get this country back on the right track.