Appeasers, beware!

I rule the swamps and burrows. I lurk 'neath logs and limousines; my vengeance is with me. Malaise makes me stronger. Your weakness is my call-to-arms. I lay in wait; my moment again draws near. Some dare believe that I do not exist. They do so at their peril. James Earl Carter believes. He has felt the wrath. He has gone the sleepless nights, fearing my return. I am the stuff of liberal nightmares. I am dread thoughts given form.

Will I come by land or sea? Will my humiliation of you be public or private? Yes... Continue your futile questioning. You will not know the day or the hour of my strike. You will continue to tax and spend, continue to appease and appall, continue to hope against hope that I am a myth, continue to believe that you might somehow avoid my retribution. It is at that very time that I shall appear. When your hypocrisy is at its zenith, and the darkness o'er the land is at its greatest, I shall arise. Your Nobel will not protect you. Your lofty rhetoric shall come to no avail. The mighty shall fear and flail against me; the humble shall cheer the beclowning of their oppressors.

I am the Swamp Bunny of Doom.

And with strange aeons even liberal wussiness may die