The Cabinet of Dr. Laura Schlessinger

On another cyberplace, a sort of forum for masochists, there's a correspondent who accuses anyone to the left of Heinrich Himmler and Attila the Hun and Vlad the Impaler of "hating America first."

Hate America First. Can't do it, man. First thing I do is check to see I've got enough eggs and bread, after I make coffee. Then I might hate America second.

But I usually don't get around to hating America until the afternoon.

If I go to work I'm able to hate America there, because I work for one of those radical newspapers. Yeah, I know, only in America could I do that, without having my hat nailed to my head or something.

So I should be grateful that I can be in America and hate America while I'm in it and get away with it. I should fall down and grovel and say, "Thank you, Beloved Leader, for allowing me the freedom to hate America and not get thrown in Gitmo or be made to go hunting with Vice-President Cheney."

Not this week anyway.

Because I know our brave men and women in Iraq are fighting to preserve my freedom to hate America, and if they were to lose due to my undermining them and encouraging the enemy with my hatred of America, the Iraqis would be over here faster than you can say "Improvised Explosive Device," and they would say, "Dirka Dirka, you can't hate America you infidel sumbitch," and make me convert to Islam. Then I'd be forced to attend five-times-daily prayers at a Mosque with a big American flag painted on the white dome.

Forgive me if the foregoing makes absolutely no sense at all to me. Anyway, on days when I have to go to rehearsal, a lot of times I never get around to hating America at all.

Actually, I don't worry about it that much. The American fascist/imperialist experiment is chugging and smoking now like an old Cadillac with bad plugs and the mufflers gone. It sounds like a bomber trying to land on one wing and a prayer. Looks like the New America Century will have been very short -- about eight years.

Remember the Reich to last a Thousand Years? RIP, 1933-1945. Nobody else remembers it either.

But if I had the money, I wouldn't stay here. I'd be in either Tokyo or Heidelberg. I'd rather be among people whose parents and grandparents were chewed up and spat out by fascism, and know what it leads to.

Been there. Done that. Won't go there no more.

Instead, I'm stuck in the asylum. And it can be a damned irritating place too, especially if you're not nuts.