At one time I opined that radical Islamists were the:
“metaphorical equivalent of a pack of Alka-Seltzer chewing chihuahuas; little turbans flying off their heads while they spew foam in their berserk barking fury.”
I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that the only difference between jihadists and Fred Phelps would be the turbans.
Bug eyes? Check.
Quivering fury? Check.
Alka-Selzter foam spray? Check.
Incessant, rapid-fire, constant yapping? Check.
You know, deep inside, I do believe that Freddie wants to be martyred just about as bad as any Islamist.
I will bet you money that on January 19, Phelps won’t get so much as one hair ruffled by any active-duty Marine. I riff on the Corps, but those kids have iron discipline.
The thing is, Jacksonville is full of retired Marines and folks to whom the US Marine Corps is extremely important. Folks who might consider a stay in the pokey and a misdemeanor plea to fighting to be a fair price to pay for a chance to stomp a mudhole in a WBC cultist and walk it dry.
Well, Freddie, if you have to demonstrate, who are we to stand in your way? Try not to bleed on anything important, though.
Nothing but love.