I’m afraid to post this out loud.

In fact, I’m going to put this article up quietly and then slink out of town for a few days to see if I can get away with saying all of this without causing much of a stir.

I think I may be turning into a Republican.

*cringe*

Now, I know it’s not possible for me to ever really be a Republican, as I am a huge sucker for human rights, civil rights, reproductive freedom, domestic partnership legislation, federally funded programs for school lunches and the arts, and all that jazz. But…

I want a war.

So far, all of my way liberal friends (among whom I’ve stood at many a rally, fundraiser, or protest over the years) are coming out way anti-war. They want peace and they want it now.

I want Dubya to push the magic button and blow some shit away.

I’m tired of being tense over when the next strike against Americans will take place. I’m tired of being anxious after hearing the three thousandth story on the local news about how to properly duct tape ourselves into our homes and eat foods we’ve learned how to grow in our windowsill gardens. I’m tired of wondering just how many more suicide bombings in America-friendly locales have to take place before someone with some fucking firepower takes out the assholes who have the audacity to say that the space shuttle’s deterioration on reentry was an act of a God who knows how evil America is.

Every time I hear a low-flying airplane, I am certain it’s headed into the Hollywood sign just above my home and that it’s being hit simultaneously with the Golden Gate Bridge, the Gateway Arch, and the Statue of Liberty.

I am sick of living in fear.

And, because being sick of living in fear means I want some action taken before the next attack on us, I live cloaked in a second layer of fear: that of being an un-closeted Republican.

Well… whatever. If my pro-war (and pro-right this fucking second) mentality makes me an evil Republican on the matter, I’ll take it. I can joke every day about “not letting the terrorists win” and seeing the Terror Alert scale go from Bert to Ernie in color, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared to death of living in this post-9/11 world of ours.

And to walk around with that fear… when we could just annihilate the source and be done with it?? Well, call me short-sighted. Perhaps I am. But after a year and half of looking over my shoulder as if a rapist is on my heels again, I’m exhausted.

Go get ’em, boys. Spank those fuckers down. Now.