Since it's a Squelch Day, here's an article I submitted to them in November that never made the cut.... for good reason.

It'd be easier to be Anti-War if I didn't have Fists of Fury

by Kev-Dee Lee

Oh, ah, how did I become once again trapped in this web of confusion and controversy? As a young man in China, I had learned the Ancient Technique of Pro-Warring. Yet too many had been kneed in their Groins of Pacifism and Faces of Moral Equivalence by my Fists of Fury and Feet of Jingoistic Patriotism. I promised my sainted Mother, as I left my small village for American University with Losing Football Team, that I would never again unleash my Fists and other dangerous body parts upon others. How hard it is!

In American University with Shitty Football Team, I met with my wise Uncle Ho-Ku Jeffrey, who taught me the ways of Anti-Warring. 'A Wise Man uses his Fists for waving big American flags with corporate logos over it,' he intoned, meditating under the shade of his hair. As time passed I learned more from the Anti-War Movement, including their ancient mantra (Hey Hey! Ho Ho!) and the Ancient Art of Daily Cal letter-writing. And I saw the folly of Pro-Warring, as the Republican Monks constantly drove women away with their lack of inner tranquility and horrible California Patriots.

Oh, but how hard it is to contain my Warring Fists!

One day, using my skills of origami to create 'Paper Swan Beating the Crap out of a Paper George Bush,' I saw out of the corner of my eye a band of Terrorists, clad in black pajamas and wielding Nunchukus, assault the innocently singing Golden Overtones. 'Kev-Dee! Save us! With Fists of Fury! And Justice!' they screamed, as their seven-part harmony was broken up. My anger rose within me, and I prepared to unleash my Avenge Choral Breakup Technique on the chortling Terrorists, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Ku-Chu, a leader of the Anti-Wars. 'Violence is never the answer to Deeper Root Causes,' he intoned softly, 'Fuck America.' I relaxed my clenched, asian fist, and pledged to study anew the ways of Anti-War.

My Warring Fists, they yearned to be free!

It seemed every day the Terrorists struck anew. They rode bikes in the no-bike zone, burned our American flags before we had a chance to, and even kidnapped the beautiful daughter of Ho-Ku, Ho-Kee. Yet through it all I remained calm and pacifist. But on the day they dumped bubbles in Sproul Fountain, my angry heart burned through my chest and entered my brain. 'Prepare for Fists! Of Warring Fury!' I yelled, ripping off my shirt and using my green ribbons as a whip. They attacked with Technique of Disproportionate Response, and I countered with Technique of Measured Response. They countered my Technique of Massive Bombing with Technique of Cave Hiding. Their Attack on American Economy Technique was met with Consumer Spending Increase, and I struck back with Spending meets Rebel Alliance, which shattered them, and they laid bleeding on the ground.

Only then did I realize what I had done, as Ho-Ku and Ku-Chu stared sadly at me. I wept alone on the ground as they sadly walked away, knowing I was lost to Pacifism forever.

Oh, I am the saddest man!

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