I have fallen, fallen like I didn't know that I could. The emotions that well up in me, the warmth, the joy, the feeling of absolute completion that I get when I think of you makes my heart flutter as the wings of a hummingbird. I didn't know I could feel this way for you, our pairing is so unlikely, after all. But, no less I quake for you like a Saudi in an airport.
Ann, how could I ever be worthy of you? How could I ever hope to even begin to scale the mountain of your unending greatness. You, my love, are perfection. I know the mass media can be hard on you. They call you a war monger because you said that "The enemy — as well as innocent civilians — must be bombed into quivering terror." They call you a racist just because you said that America has "a seller's market for new immigrants." They call you a bitch just because you have no sense of tact or personal decency.
They don't understand you as I do, my beloved Ann. I know that, deep down, the majority of Americans really do want to be racist, classist, evangelical, xenophobes. I know that, one day, they will see the truth of your words. I know that, one day, everyone will come to see that tolerance is weakness, mercy is inexcuseable and concepts like equality, social justice, class mobility and universal freedom aren't, as we've been erroneously taught, the cornerstones of American ideology, but liberal hogwash.
We would be so perfect, Anne, you and I. We can play American foreign policy. I would hold you down and violate you for your most precious resources whilst destroying your identity and ask nothing but a 'thank you' in return. Ann, I can show you the true meaning of sexual liberalism and know, in my heart of hearts that it is the only kind of liberalism you will ever need.
What must I do to prove my unending, unwavering and unquestioning love for you? I'll spout administration talking points without a thought to their factual accuracy. I'll disavow all of my Muslim friends. I'll anally penetrate any Democrat you want just so you can call them a sodomite and not risk slandering them. I might even, if only for you, convert to Christianity.
Love me, Ann. Love me as I love you.