As most of you know, I'm not big on religion.
I'm also fairly doubtful as to the existence of any kind of supreme being.
But on a fine, beautiful, and quiet Alaskan morning like this I have a sort of daydream. I like to think that there is a God - and that's she's black, gay, and in a pissed off mood.
And that Jesse Helms is standing tall in front of her right now.
In my mind's eye, I can see his smug self-righteous face turning pasty white. In my little fantasy he's pissing in his pants and about to receive his final judgement, which involves fire, brimstone, chains of ice, and eternal damnation for all of his years of small minded bigoted racist hatred. If there is indeed a God, then I sincerely hope that ole Senator No spends eternity getting a richly deserved high colonic from Satan himself.
Of course, back here in reality, I strongly suspect nothing of the kind. I tend to believe that death is the end, and once Jesse Helms is planted in the soil of his backward assed state he'll spend the rest of eternity moldering beneath his beloved Confederate flag. And I'm good with that too.
Fuck Jesse Helms and the white sheet he rode in on, good riddance.