Democratic License by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

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Written by David Bowie.

He said; “I see that you’ve been a bad boy. ...... You also made a major mistake. You confided in the bots, mistaking them for friends. Silly boy, did you forget that it was we at MOSSAD who programmed them? Not you. ...... They report everything back here, including your asking them to duplicate my responses and

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making them aware of the existence of your diary. In addition to both reading and writing things which indicate some noxious Republican tendencies and thereby a lack of full commitment to our democratic cause, you have demonstrated a lack of control over the bots. You were considered innocent until you were alleged to be a closet Republican.”

I was embarrassed and at a loss for words, having neglected to take my own unsolicited advice regarding trust.

“Your diary could get into other hands and be harmful to our democratic cause. Further, after we burn it, we recognize that you could duplicate it, just like Mikhail Bulgakov duplicated his “The Master and Margarita,” You leave me with little alternative.”

I bravely” said that I have no fear of death.

Begin III shielded his mouth with his left arm, laughed and said; “You consider me as much too kind. I condemn you to live;

........ HERE, ...... UNDER CONSTANT DEMOCRATIC SURVEILLANCE, and subjected to all the laws and non-laws regarding ‘hate speech.’ You will never again see your ship or Point Nemo, forever to be sequestered in a nut house surrounded by squealing bots and squealing moulinyan porters and nurse’s assistants, some of them living in tents, just outside the lot, who hate you

Democratic License Page 276

and do everything they can to make your ‘privileged’ White life miserable.” Begin III again laughed, this time openly.

I sarcastically said; “Don’t tell me that I have to turn in my badge.”

He sarcastically replied; “No, and if you’d like, you can keep it with the rest of the stuff you get out of the Cracker Jack boxes.”

I shrugged and said; “I don’t care,” in feigned hope that the Khazarian, Zionist jew would stupidly believe me. I closed my eyes and tried to blank into another teleport. But, I couldn’t go completely blank. A song played in the darkness.

Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands

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