Additional Titles








Fearing The 
New Bushstapo

Conscience Trumps Constitution?

Mutiny Turns Into Bounty







By Roger Fredinburg

April 9, 2012

Is free speech completely gone in America? Is the first amendment dead?

I awoke early this morning in the still cold darkness of a slowly fading winter night.

I was thinking, while lying warm and safe in my nice soft bed that I should arise and begin my day.

Suddenly I was overtaken by a wave of emotion that stimulated a fear response which led to anxiety and guilt. All of it culminating into a simultaneous physical and spiritual convulsion that left me trembling, my heart pounding and my mind rushing as if I had had reached a climax or suddenly remembered an important commitment that I could not keep. (At my age it’s getting hard to tell the difference).

I began to fret ever so completely about the unfairness of it all, I mean here I am, with a roof over my head, a nice warm bed and all of the creature comforts anyone could desire. I have a nice home, a lovely wife, an ugly little dog and a normal, happy life.

All the while, just around the corner and down the street, somewhere in my neighborhood, I was now certain, lived, I assumed, some sad and lonely sort, suffering in the street, homeless, cold, hungry and alone. I thought to myself; How dare I, who am I to enjoy such comfort while others go without… Oh what a shameless man I am, the mere thought of it all made me feel un-worthy to have such a decent life.

I was certain that that poor homeless gent I conjured up was a victim of my greed and self indulgence and I am absolutely certain that my material excesses are damaging to his self image and lowering his self esteem. Matter of fact, my modest success in life might actually be causing him emotional and psychological pain. It’s surely all my fault.

Suddenly, as I sat up and reached for my robe, I realized that a robe is such an extravagance, such a waste of money and material resources. So I refused it and headed off to the privy, uncovered and fully exposed in all my natural beauty. I thought to myself; “Self… how dare you wear a robe when that poor homeless guy doesn’t even have clean dry clothes for the day”. Shame on me…

I sat there at the helm of my porcelain Clipper Ship, sails at full mast, when suddenly I stopped and began to fret about the paperwork that comes with the daily affair.

It immediately occurred to me that there had been a veteran in the news who had lost both of his arms in Iraq and his not having any arms would negate the possibility that he might undertake the task immediately before me, this business of doing the paperwork and swabbing the aft deck after the southern winds subsided. So, as not to offend and hurt his self esteem, I reckoned that I would make the sacrifice myself, in his honor, just this once, I would finish the spiritually fulfilling task of evacuating my private organic matter processor, but refuse to do the paperwork as a patriotic gesture to all who can’t reach theirs.

Knowing that I was doing my best not to hurt any feelings, I stopped at the sink to wash up and brush my teeth when it occurred to me that there are many in this world who are without running water and indoor plumbing. I felt sad that they might be jealous and that they might suffer with envy and come to despise me if I washed and brushed.

I decided to avoid the routine in their honor, and go freestyle, leaving a bowl full of unimportant matters behind. I quickly decided that cleanliness could not really be next to Godliness because no God of mine would refuse so many innocents in this world such meaningless obstacles with which to start their day. And, in order to avoid making those helpless people feel inferior, I would need to struggle through the day without the usual impediments of personal hygiene and simply cling tightly to my new P.C. way of life. So I skipped my bathroom rituals, for their sakes of course. I didn’t want to offend anyone.

I started to get dressed and put on my shoes to go for a walk when suddenly, I realized that there are folks out there who can’t walk, don’t have shoes, or are without legs altogether. And how might they feel should I go strutting around the neighborhood, fully clothed, wearing shoes and able to walk? Heaven forbid, Again, I asked myself, “Why are you so callous?” I said to self “How could you be so selfish and thoughtless as to forget their plight…” Shame on me again.


As I headed down the hall and into the great room, I decided to stop for a rest, and I sat right down on that nice little throw rug in the entry way that our dog likes so well. And, like that little dog of ours, who rushes to that rug after each outdoor excursion, I suddenly realized the miracle and the softness of deep shag, and I, like the dog, was made pure by divine intervention. I now understand why he likes that rug so much.

Sitting there, completely nude and temporarily stained from my endeavor to be politically correct, I had a notion to watch some TV, but then I thought it through… I asked myself… “What of the blind?” “How would they feel about my gift of sight?” So I refrained from doing so to honor their sightlessness.

The radio was off limits too, as I didn’t want to offend the deaf. The newspaper was also off limits as I was sure that the blind and the ignorant might take some offense to my reading it. And someone might conclude that I was flaunting my superior intellectual and visual abilities. I couldn’t survive with that on my conscience.

The more I contemplated it, Political correctness that is, the worse it got.

I considered making some breakfast, but concluded that there were far too many hungry people on this planet, and I wouldn’t want them to feel slighted by my ability to self nourish.

As I contemplated taking my prescription medicine, I was forced to step back and re-consider. Knowing that there were so many who just couldn’t afford health care. Honestly, it made me want to cry. After all, being responsible for one’s own medical bills would cut into a persons daily budget for important expenses like cigarettes, alcohol, tattoo’s, piercings, Net-Flicks, smart phones and I-Tunes down-loads. The truth is, my little health concerns pale in comparison to their “needs”.

I even imagined that basic activities such as sex might need to be outlawed so we don’t upset the impotent among us, we wouldn’t want that! We need to protect the feelings and preserve the dignity of those folks out there who are unable to rise to the challenge.

If we sustained a no sex policy long enough I thought, all of our problems would vanish, along with the last vestiges of humanity I suppose, and then there would be nobody left to be offended. (Except the Catholics of course) And if I correctly understand the plan of our P.C. masters, that fit’s right in with their goals.

Then, in another moment of bedazzling brilliance, I began to empathize with my poor neighbor, who is married to a very un-attractive female. I chuckled as it occurred to me that if we outlawed sex as to not offend the impotent folks, the government wouldn’t need to force me to cough up extra taxes to pay for my neighbors Viagra. (I previously advised him to get a better looking wife before he became addicted to the little blue pills but he wouldn’t listen).

Then it hit me, we should make it illegal to be physically attractive. I mean think of the humility, the emotional pain and suffering those poor homely people must endure. And I am fairly certain that Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton will gladly carry the water on this one.

At this point in my unsettling start to the day, I was ready to go naked into the cold dark morning and deliver myself outside in order to freeze to death on the back porch if for no other reason than to show my solidarity with those who have much less than I do.

Then, I suddenly realized that without a bed, a robe, a bathroom filled with amenities, without all of those conveniences, and without the constraints of a modern civilized living, there would be no need to get up and go to work. No need to earn money and no need to pay taxes. It got me to thinking even more about the joy of being P.C.

I suppose, by publicly revealing my 16 hour work days I might negatively impact the less assertive in society and cause them psychological suffering and that could be devastating to those folks out there who don’t want a job or don’t have the desire to excel in an entrepreneurial endeavor. It’s clearly inconsiderate of me to expect everyone else to get up early and go to work all day, I humbly apologize.

I began thinking that it really isn’t worth it, all this expended life force wasted on work just so I can enjoy the simple pleasures in life. I pondered the thought that maybe I should just go back to bed, sleep through the day and stay home from work. Just for the sake of the community.

This fantasy ordeal was an exhilarating and freeing experience. An eye opening moment for both myself and for my Mother In-Law; who ultimately discovered me, sitting there on that rug, unclean, unshaven and undressed.

Needless to say, I was instantaneously transported back to reality, where suddenly, political correctness was no longer important to me. My worry about other people’s dignity, self esteem and feelings seemed meaningless, I was most definitely over it.

At that point, the only thing I could think of was how stupid I was to leave behind a perfectly good robe, how silly it was to think of only myself and my failure as a P.C. convert. And of course I laughed at how loony my actions were and how hard it was going to be to explain all of this to my wife.

In effort to avoid any conflict, I decided to lie… if asked. I imagined myself telling stories of a homeless man, armless and legless, in a wheel chair, being assisted by an ugly woman. I would claim that both had been peering into our windows longing for a chance to steal our stuff, plotting a burglary, I would say.


I would offer an ostentatious description of my bravery for chasing them away. I would describe in detail how I rushed naked into the dark to protect my home and family, how I slipped and fell in the yard and landed in the exact spot where the little dog leaves his imprint on Mother Nature. And, I thought I might explain the social and physical dangers of requiring taxpayers to buy male enhancement drugs for men who can’t handle their own business after losing both arms and legs in the Iraq war.

Fortunately for me, My Mother In-Law can’t see a thing without glasses, can’t hear much without hearing aids and thankfully, she has no clue what I was doing up in the wee hours of the morning, and I don’t think she saw much or heard a anything. Thank God!

Of course none of this actually happened. But it’s a great lead in to a very important conclusion.

The lesson from this imaginary experience left me with a clear understanding of just how silly we conservatives and Christian Americans have all become. We are afraid to speak out, terrified to express our ideas and we have become shivering cowards when we are confronted by the evil, un-American forces of political correctness.

The thought police have made it very clear, we have our instructions, especially those of us who are Euro-Centric (That’s P.C. for white) Americans.

We are the ones who are being systematically pushed to the back of the bus, forced into our bunkers, herded off onto the suburban and metro reservations, designed for us by the U.N. through Agenda 21. We are being forcibly chased off of our own land and off of the public streets of America. We don’t dare go out after dark.

We’re being threatened with imprisonment, race riots, street wars and other types of violence if we don’t cough up free cash and free everything else, for certain “classes” of people. We are ridiculed publicly if we speak out, especially if we speak the truth. We are being tormented by the media if we try to defend ourselves or if we fail to toe the line with what the P.C. crowd demands of us. The race baiters, God haters, Hetero-Phobic’s and poverty pimps have converged and joined hands with the media to bully us back into our self imposed state of anonymity.

I for one am sick of being told what to say, what to think and how to respond to people, circumstances and how to live my life. I am tired of being told to shut up, surrender my values, abandon my beliefs and change my ways. Dare I say NO?

I am mad as hell about being forced to surrender my heritage and take orders from a government gone wild and a people gone mad.

My Great, Great, Great Grandfather died during the Civil War as an 85 year old captive soldier at Andersonville in 1886. He died as a prisoner of the affliction known as anasarca, a painfully slow and horrid way to die.

I am trying to understand why a man of 85 years was out there to begin with, fighting to secure our freedom, to liberate his fellow man and make America a better place for generations to come. What was he thinking?

We all owe my 3x Great Grandpa and millions more like him some basic respect. We can express it by digging deep down inside of our souls and finding the courage to do whatever it takes to stop this rapid decay of our American way of life.

Is there anyone left who will stand their ground? Occupy this land? Help us repel the purveyors of Socialism, Communitarian style Communism and Fascism that are running rampant throughout America?

We are under the spell of dictatorial mandates this current cast of criminals in Washington D.C. in our Courts and State Houses have put a wicked spell on us, and we have few real choices left. Like those Soldiers at Andersonville, the way forward might look bleak. But tomorrow will come and what you decide to do about it is up to you.

I can only imagine the dangers we face. In today’s America if we decided to fight back. The media is against traditionalism and moral living, the conservative media is running scared most of the time and nobody want to say it, but Claire Wolfe was wrong.

If anyone were to instruct folks about what really needs doing, If we openly discussed the real solutions, we could end up in big trouble. Seems sort of sad, 1st amendment and all, but I am actually afraid to say it as it should be told.

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Rather than appreciate my right to free speech, I expect that our African American Dictator and his appointed morons and minions would be offended by the facts, and it would hurt their little feelers and contribute to lower self esteem if we told them the truth.

Under Obama’s new anti-Miranda, anti-America directives, the penalty for our being politically incorrect could earn folks like us a life sentence at GITMO without due process and without hope of escape.

So I won’t tell you what I think you should do. I know better. But I have personally decided to discontinue my voluntary adherence to the rules of political correctness and go back to being a good old fashioned all American regular guy.

Polish or Blonde jokes anyone?

� 2012 Roger Fredinburg - All Rights Reserved

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Roger Fredinburg is a national radio figure. He conducted a daily 3 hour syndicated radio talk show heard in hundreds of cities from coast to coast. He was syndicated by Talk Radio Network along side Art Bell and held on to more that 150 radio stations from 1993 until he left Radio America in 2004. He now owns an ad agency; and offers audio and video blogging at










Is free speech completely gone in America? Is the first amendment dead?