Don't budget deficit me you old men with eyeglasses and no lips who say we can't afford to house the houseless or to heal the sick. Don't fiscal responsibility me you devourers of the fat of the land may it clog your devious up-for-election arteries. Don't balance of trade me you horny-handed peddlars of shoddy shares in finger-crossed bonanzas based on non-existent enterprise. Don't national security me you who make deals behind our backs under cover of law-proof dark. Don't family-values me you who force apart man woman and child in the interest of an ever-grosser national product. Don't state of the union me you unctuous apologists for quotidian horror may you choke on your aw-shucks- just-plain-old-me charisma. Don't pay your speech-writers one more cent on my account or your column writers or The News Tonighters. Epoxy in my ears before I hear another word.
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