US Military? Plane 20201 In Wellington 6.01.12

You, the one who just deleted my response, the polite observation that was made, the empowering invitation to protest peacefully, to avoid the act the criminal violence that the poster of this inflamatory anti-social call to riot - you, of the IndyMedia Editorial Collective:

Sniff the hairy crack of my arse.

You are not a man, neither are you a woman.  You are sub-human scum and your actions declare your faggot fascist affiliations.  You should be given no quarter, for at a time when our people could rise in peace and dignity, with humour and strength, you set traps for them, you invite disaster on those who might heed your perverted call, you seek to weaken our resolve by bringing our attention to the big bad boogieman CIA. You would enslave a people.

We are New Zealanders!  We are our father's sons, and we are proud, and we are the inheritors of our ancestors' resolve to endure and to win in the face of terror.  They did not retreat from the horrors of the Japanese slaughter, nor did they shrink from German steel.  Anyone who impinges on our freedom risks our wrath. Even a CIA spook or ranking Army officer will get a "Texas heart shot" from a patriot Government officer as he flees through our bush, for to be a soldier is to dress in a burial shroud and do the right thing.  It is the right and duty of a fine Territorial Officer to purge the stench of fascism wherever it is found within our realm.  Soldiers stand in Grace before the Lord our God.  Did the Greeks abandon their battles in the face of superior numbers?

Did England shrink from battle against the might of the German Empire? Or the French before them, or the Spanish before that? We march with God!

So, fuckpig (are you ancestrally a German Catholic?), how long do you think I will let you sully the very bones of the greats whom I am proud to carry into battle with me? 

As you are taken, as you are marched off, I (or any of rank who has a command in the field on that day) will stroll idly by as you scream, and just pop in to the farm abbatoir in time to see the last of your life drip the floor, and your guts hanging from the slash that gapes from your slack balls past your barely beating heart. So, help me God, I do solemnly swear.

Do you wish this?  Party time is nearly here.  The band has struck up the tune, the drums are rolling, soldiers are in the field (not in uniform at this time).  Do you wish to to dance?

Fuckpig, if you're feeling the pressure from your CIA handlers, take a sickie, you fool.  For the line between collaboration and treason is so very fine on a hot day in Hell.

Best wishes,

paul sayers