Remember Minnesota, The Only Reason You Have Al Franken As Your US Senator Is Because I Decided You Could Have Him.

It wasn't easy. A part of me still longs for Al Franken's radio show. For the hate mail of the day. All I ever get are emails from some guy who thinks I should be impressed he's figured out my middle name and where I work. He calls me the Drug Commie. Wow. That's great. I wonder if he thought of that all by himself.

Sigh.

Sometimes though, I get a reminder of why I let Al Franken go. That my personal loss was a gain for greater society. Like a message in a bottle that washed up on my own personal beach far from Washington, D.C., a video link showed up in my mailbox today from The Center For American Progress. It shows why anyone who enjoys watching Jesus-freak bigots get bitch slapped, and in particular those on the front lines of the last great civil rights struggle in this country, owes me a bit of gratitude:




Part of me feels like a proud parent who's little boy has all grown up. Part of me still longs for a decent hate mail.

Sigh.