Dear (No Mr.) President
The following is a recently rediscovered letter written by My Fiancee to President Reagan in 1982. She was as outraged by politics then as she is now. Spelling errors included for your amusement.
Dear President,
I wrote to you a couple of months ago about Nuclear Holocaust. But did you write me back? No, you didn't! You let your secretary take care of it all. I requested a real letter, not a cover letter. I received a cover letter. The whole thing is not a joke, and you should be very concerned. You should be busting your brains trying to ban nuclear bombs and try to make peace with Russia. Last night I watched a program on television called "Life During Nuclear Holocaust" on channel 2. I found out a lot of things, including - no one would survive the fallout. few people would survive the heat, fewer would survive the shock, but NO ONE would live. If I went to Austraila, I would die. If I went to South Africa, I would die. Lets face it. We would all die, no matter where you went. Would you care to aknowledge a few phamplets or television shows? No? Yeah, I knew it. Would you kindly take 3 miniature minutes of your time and answer my letter? I happen to be 11 1/2 and I would like to do something with my life. You are really helping to stop that.
Unsincerely,
My Fiancee
posted by Bry at 9:31 PM
4 Comments:
Since sneding that letter, she is in soooo many government databases and files that I suddenly feel unsafe hanging around here.
I do like the phrase "three miniature minutes," though.
I think you inspired Dean - go see, it's painful.
Is it really? And does it surprise you?
And by the way, you really didn't read the whole thing in context. I totally undo all my arguements with the last sentence.
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