Paranoid? Me?

So it seems “the Donald” is no longer content spending his days bashing those willing to bend over in public for prime time abuse, and is leading an effort to rebuild the Twin Towers pretty much as they were.
I can’t say I have a problem with that. In fact, compared to the bullshit airy-fairy crap they’ve proposed so far, it seems like the most fitting idea. Call me crazy, but this is New York we’re talking about. Some ephemeral skeleton-like contraption that does nothing more than hurt the eyes and murder nearsighted birds hardly fits with the tough, aggressive Big Apple I know.
Of course, bad ideas abound regarding post-Sept. 11 life in America. Within three years we shall all be forced to carry, at all times, our lovely National I.D. card , which can be read by the government, your local identity thief and the pimply-faced punk cashing you out as you buy condoms (who’s to say an image of your last one-night stand, complete with caught-in-the-act digital still of the ensuing walk of shame won’t pop up on the screen for identity verification?) with one swipe, scan or, more likely, wireless beam.
And should those condoms fail? Forget it: The Right Wing born again pharmacist won’t even blink when he tells you–after pulling up your records showing you’re unmarried to the guy who, upon further examination, is actually married with a child, adding adultery to your litany of transgressions–he will not fill your prescription for the morning-after pill due to his moral objections . He may, however, after looking at your bank statements, purchase records and last health exam, suggest some prenatal vitamins.
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