Dear Ted,
If being against sex with underage, unconscious, drugged, tied up, unwilling, little girls, defenseless underage Girl Scouts, underage Street Prostitutes and (apparently buy one set of lyrics at least) animals; and/or having my bottom played with by other men and women in wilderness settings is “Anti-American”…
Please, I beg of you:
Consider me an enemy of The State, publish me in the roll of Un-American Hippies and you can even paint my name on the waterproof pistol target pasted on the ceiling over your bed.
Also, consider this a public referral of your lyric collection to serial sex crime investigators both locally, to you and at the National Law Enforcement level. I would have included some here but you have taken unusual and very telling pains to preclude any public viewing of your lyrics by Americans, Un Americans and of course, the GOP led Sex Cops.
I really hate to be all Ad Hominem about it (you can have one of Stockman’s interns look that up) but you are, frankly, an angry, ranting, racist, misogynist, carpet bagging, fake frontiersman of a draft dodger. Which is in itself only a few strokes above par for the Tea Smoking GOP’s course at this point. But when You Threatened to Murder the President of the United States you crossed a line some of us who had decent fathers still hold solid. I figure you lost your privilege of public diplomatic courtesy right there and then. As far as respect goes you are a lot more like Abbie Hoffman was to Ronald Reagan than what Chuck Heston was to Cecil B. Demil at this strange and twisted moment of failed reason for the old party.
The truth is, it doesn’t matter which partisan meat wagon you sold your celebrity endorsement to. Your disrespectful violence worshiping arrogance and partisan anti-sophistication is unequaled even by Rove’s standards. You are simply undeserving of a seat at the adult table, and any politician who holds your chair is shooting his party's electoral future in the foot... Washington would have hanged you before breakfast at Valley Forge, Lincoln would have locked you in St. Elizabeth’s and Nixon would have fed your security pass to his dog Checkers. These modern liberals over here do something far, far worse - they ignore you. At least you remain free to be venerated in your little circle of jerks.
I don’t how they do it in Detroit, but in the rural parts of Arizona, Wyoming, Colorado and Utah where I have lived my entire life, your identity as the “draft dodging poet of pedophilia” is the kind of descriptor that leads people at the feed store to look you in the eye and ask with a smile if you aren’t from around here. By which they often mean: Go away.
In case you are interested, after I met Ronald Reagan he became one of my two writing mentors, Barry Goldwater's family taught me how to drink, my first paycheck was signed by the original "Marlboro Man" and most of what I believe about politics I plagiarize hourly from the Jesuit high school I was kicked out of. I castrated my first steer with a pocketknife and fried the little nuts for lunch right there on the iron fire when I was about 8 (and no you jack-rodded pervert there was no sexual innuendo then or now). I just want to be clear that I ride hard, eat light and sleep on the ground, as The Big Man once said. I am one of those heartland Christians who was just born the one time. I believe that the only real difference between Jesus and Mohamed (other than spelling complications) is that Mohamed enjoyed a long fruitful career in politics because he told his men to pick up their swords and start swinging, while Jesus died the worst death most of us could imagine before Newton happened, only because he told his men to put theirs down. By which I mean, if you want to personally attack my status as a "Real American" when you can muster no intelligent discourse regarding the actual issues at hand, that’s fine. But you best come at night.
I speak on behalf of Liberals and moderates and particularly the few of us turncoats who abandoned the Big Machine when money whores like yourself stomp-kicked George Herbert Walker into the hot asphalt of "thousand year campaign" sin-to-win expedience. We all want to extend our deepest condolences for any childhood fondling or abuse you may have suffered in places like the Detroit metropolitan Boy Scout troops, or wherever. I have a relative who is a nationally acclaimed counselor for childhood trauma and is also a staunch Republican. Sadly for you, she is a woman, but if you ever get honest with yourself about the perv issues and don’t know where else to turn to, drop a line. I am certainly a drunken bastard of the highest order, but I do have a heart. Let's face it, when your sexual identity shocks the Democrats, um, does that not ring a big bell for anyone on Ed Meese's old team?
You are, at best, a closet one per center “cloaked in the blanket of immense power” or whatever the movie thing said, but that should not let the “lamestream” media off the hook from reporting deeply about your true personal history. Or “journey” or whatever. The Republican Party and the NRA should acknowledge that the arts and letters fieldwork that allowed you entrance into the millionaire’s club are, even by contemporary standards, a bucket load of hot shame thrown against the windshield of Barry Goldwater’s and Nancy Reagan’s conservative morality.
Your raving domestic terrorism stylings of dumb-on-purpose radicalism, which suddenly defines the entire GOP, is exactly what forced me to join league with these hairy legged Liberal commie glutten-free feminists to begin with. How far I have fallen I guess: Still, even the blackest, lesbian-est, Female Law Schooling-est, welfare smoking-est, Rap Singing-est, American Medical Associating-est, School Teaching-est, Muslim-Nazi-Commie-Atheist-est out here in the middle of what some of us delusional optimists still like to call "The American Dream" would be unwilling to print the deviant misogynistic lyrics you have been cranking out for thirty patriotic years.
Well, patriotic except for that pesky draft dodging rap which, honestly, a lot of the old hippies out here had the balls to do openly, and they still accept the beatings every time they go out in public. I admit that I have never been in the military nor have I committed treason to avoid the service, so I have to stay neutral on the subject. Perhaps you can elucidate (call the intern back, ok) your own views. Still, thinking about it, I am surprised that you are the guest anywhere in daylight of a born again, anti-smut, pro military “Christian” Republican. Well, that NRA money makes the old Detroit Mob look like just another east coast liberal welfare scam, doesn’t it?
Anyway, Mr. Nugent, I suppose the whole point is this: Thank you for personally making Hillary Clinton the front runner something like fifteen hundred days before the GOP has to once again confront the reality that your party's pessimism-branded capitalists are the guys who keep collapsing America and these weak skinned tax-and-spend Liberals are the ones who keep picking us up and dusting off our knees. Yours will become the face of a victorious Republican POTUS campaign about 13 years after "Free Cancerous Death in Every Pack" becomes the new slogan for Reagan's old cigarette company.
Peace, Love and, well, whatever you and the boys do up there in the compound without women and science and all that extremist Liberal shit.
Sincerely,
The (Ex) Cowboy
Partial Curriculum Vitae of Nugent, Ted
Poet Laureate of the Republican Party:
(Socrates, eat your heart out..)
Yank Me Crank me, Change my sex, Pussywhipped, Going Down Hard, Sexpot, My Baby Likes Butter on her Gritz, Bridge over troubled Daughters, Thighraceous, Lovejacker, The Harder They Cum The Harder I Get, If You Can’t lick ‘em – lick ‘em, High Heels in Motion, Thunder Thighs, Tied up in love, Bound and Gagged, Tailgunner, Jailbait, Violent Love, Wango Tango, Scream Dream, Saddle Sore, Cruisin, Yank Me Crank Me, Girl Scout Cookie