"Liberals are heartless and conservatives are pussies" said Fred, reloading his shotgun.  Naturally I quirked an eyebrow and called "Pull."

The little clay disk zoomed into the sky, orange and free in the crip air like a tiny U.F.O.  I mused at the fact we call them pigeons as I squeezed the trigger.

In a violent blast of fire and noise it vaporized, leaving behind only a charcoal colored puff of powder.

Mike already had another pigeon set-up on the thrower when I asked the obvious question.

"Fred, have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?"

Fred shrugged, yelled pull and clipped his bird.

"Well it's like this. Liberals are supposed to be the compassionate ones, all bleeding heart and kind, save the trees and baby whatever's but we know the score.  Most of them just like feeling superior to other people.  It all stems from christianity, which many of those liberal pukes disreprect at every corner while preaching tolerance," he said indicating with a nod that it was my turn to shoot.

I blasted another clay and broke open my shotgun, relishing the smell of freshly fired shells.

"Chrisitanity is responsible for liberalisim?" I asked, wondering where this was going.

"Of course it is.  Compassion, pacifist Daddy please take care of us and oh by the way everyone who disagrees sucks and lets stomp them into dirt passive agressive psychosis all stems from christiantiy. "

He fired again and clipped another bird, taking a bigger chunk this time.  He continued as I prepared to take my shot.

"Look at most liberals.  They will call for the outright torture and murder of a conservative at the drop of a hat.  Hell that moron Beck has them so stirred up half the time I'm suprised they don't march on his studio and rape him with a pitch fork.  The only thing that keeps them in check is their sense of being above all the violence while secretly daydreaming about bloody murder.   They have no heart, no conviction and are just as warped as everyone else. They won't even support their own president,"  he finished as I dusted another bird.

We took a short break to sip our iced tea at the table and let the shotguns cool off.

"Techinically he's not a liberal but I get you. They're still compassionate though, I wouldn't call that heartless," I said, trying not to speak too loud near big Jim who was notorious for hating liberals and quick with his fists.

"They're only compassionate so they can feel better than other people.  There's no other motivation to do so other than social programming set up by other liberals who felt more important than other people," said Fred before squeezing his lemon.

"That would be hard to prove in court, Fred.  What about conservatives, why do you think they're pussies, because this I've got to hear," I said, stirring in more sugar.  I like my tea sweet the way the God of The South intended.

"Conservatives are the most christian folks around, right there you've got pacificim which means pussy.  Most of them ignore that shit though and prove their wussification in other ways.  Conservatives take a hard stance against abortion but not one of them will stand up to knuckle babies," he said, making a peculiar motion with his fist.

"Are you shitting me? Masturbation is not murder," I said, my face turning red.

"Oh yes it is.  Those little seed spillers were first class sinners back in the day but now it's somehow O.K. but abortion isn't?  Nope, in the eyes of God you're flushing entire generations down the toilet pal, and lets not even get started on those horrible folks who swallow."

I set down my tea, suddenly feeling queasy.

"Look, even if that's true conservatives are all about supporting the war effort and killing terrorists,"  I said, turing the conversation away from creation.

"True dat, but less than one percent of the population is in the armed forces actually doing something about it.  That makes 99% of people either unable or unwilling.  Now of those who are unable but still support the war, most won't march on Washington demanding a Final Solution to the Terrorist Problem.  We know the answer is genocide, but no one has the guts to make it happen," he said, finishing his tea.

A litte buzzer beeped on the time machine near the edge of the range.  Fred looked at his watch.

"Shit, I've got to get that thing back to H.G. or he's going to kick my ass," said Fred.

I shook his hand and thanked him for the good time.

"So, Nietzsche, are you game for next week's trap shoot or what?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Depends on how I'm feeling, besides I've got Saints tickets."

I nodded and let him go.  

Copyright 2010 Doug Socks

Image Courtesy of www.cloherty.com