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No member of Congress better exemplifies the fraud of the 1994 "Republican Revolution" than Linda Smith of Washington state. She was carried into office (after an unprecedented write-in victory in the primary) on a promise to reduce government and restore the Constitution. Her grassroots supporters were so numerous they earned the nickname, "Linda's Army." Once in office, however, Smith immediately began voting for every possible expansion of federal power, particularly federal police power.

After nearly losing her congressional seat in the 1996 elections to an unknown Democrat, Smith, realizing she faced complete disgrace in a third run for Congress, decided to run for the U.S. Senate, instead. Some of her formerly most ardent supporters are now working to assure that Smith never again gets elected to anything above the office of dog catcher.

And if she is elected dog catcher, thousands of betrayed supporters hope she's bitten by one of her captives. If the dog is rabid, all the better. Here's a bit of...um...doggerel from one of the former members of Linda's Army.>


By Lucy Mosby Fox

She rode into town in '94,
	A shining new congressman, she.
She was clad all in white, a heroic sight,
	On a horse called Liberty.
The people of Washington's third district
	Had begged her to help them, Oh please!
For the people were losing their freedom
	To the infamous Gang of DC.
Linda Smith was her name,
	And boldly she came, to help vanquish government's might.
She said, "Never fear, my people, I hear!
	I'll put those marauders to flight!"
Well, she'd no sooner posed for her picture
	With Newt and the 73,
When she saw a bill called 666.
	"Now, that looks good!" said she.
It would have let cops wreak havoc,
	Disregarding the Bill of Rights.
But Linda scoffed, "Technicalities!"
	And voted to increase the state's might.
Then along came a bill about terror
	That Clinton wanted a lot.
This Clinton, you see, led the Gang of DC.
	A good guy he was NOT.
Clinton wanted to crush and destroy
	Anyone who differed with him.
So he asked for things like secret trials
	And police power wielded at whim.
Surely the hero of freedom,
	Miss Linda all in white,
Would never give in to such grievous sin.
	But she said, "Hey, this stuff's all right!"
Then a health care bill came along one day.
	"It's moderate," the media said.
"All it does," they assured, "is fill coverage gaps;
	After all, you don't want people dead."
So Linda voted for this bill, too.
	Just one thing she didn't say.
That the bill created a database,
	To take medical privacy away.
When your doctor now notes you've got piles,
	Or that you're as loony as Lou,
Any bureaucrat with a computer,
	Can learn everything about you.
And then came the cry to stop Deadbeat Dads.
	A good idea, all agreed.
But what Linda didn't mention
	Was that "deadbeats" meant you and me.
The database built to track these guys
	Doesn't contain just THEIR names.
When you or your daughter get a job,
	Your name goes in, all the same.
"Hey, what's the big idea of this?"
	The people were starting to cry.
"I'm no deadbeat! Why track me?"
	"Because it's good for you, that's why."
"And because I know so well, little folks,
	How you should run your lives,
I'm also voting for a program
	That makes this one look mild."
"In some places in the country,
	On a trial basis, you see,
People won't be able to get a job
	Without permission from DC."
Now, Linda still carried a six-gun,
	And swore she was for shooters' rights.
But when the first chance came along,
	She put gun owners right in her sights.
And now, thanks to Linda and 3610,
	If ever you drive past a school,
With a gun in your truck,	why you're just out of luck.
	Off to prison with you, you poor fool.
And she voted more money for ATF,
	We hardly need comment on that.
Worst of all, if you got in a fight in your youth,
	Out your gun rights go, in a cocked hat.
But the Constitution prohibits
	Making punishments "after the fact."
"Constitution?" puzzles Linda,
	"Whatever in the world is that?"
How I wish, oh my friends, that this tale was to end,
	But I'm just getting now to the worst.
It is this above all that enslaves us,
	And this that makes my heart burst.
Hidden deep in the stinking bowels of a bill,
	That same infamous 3610,
Was the dreaded National ID card,
	For which Linda voted again.
This card has been rumored for all of our lives,
	But governments didn't dare,
To pass such a monstrous injustice.
	They knew we'd storm their lair.
They knew we'd rise in rebellion
	If they made us slaves in this way.
But our rulers have gotten much smarter now.
	They've learned a new game to play.
Miss Smith's friends wrote one passage,
	A paragraph or two,
That requires your STATE government
	To issue the card to you.
It's just your drivers' license,
	But laden with new tricks.
And in less than nine years you won't buy or sell
	Without this modern 666.
Retinal scans and fingerprints,
	Histories of health and crime,
Coded into an ID card
	You'll carry for all time.
No government will deal with you,
	If you don't show the card.
No bank, no store, no doctor
	Who's part of the government guard.
And don't listen, my friends, when Linda claims,
	She only voted for that,
Because it was hidden in a budget bill.
	("Clinton left me no choice, that rat!")
Even if that excuse were true,
	It shouldn't cut any ice.
Our congressmen should read the laws
	They inflict upon our lives.
But even worse, in Linda's case,
	She loves this little clause.
She wants that cruel ID card
	To be in our serf-like paws.
How do I know? Well, people,
	When congress had adjourned,
Linda Smith went home for a while.
	To the Northwest she returned.
And while she was there the people
	Were fighting their state's own bill
To implement the ID card
	Against their earnest will.
Did Linda stand foursquare beside
	The people she once said she loved?
No, she lobbied the legislature
	To pass the thrice-damned law.
The tale goes on, my friends, I fear,
	At sad, depressing length.
The hero we sent to Washington,
	Has voted with all her strength,
To take away what little we had,
	Back there in '94,
And leave the people begging,
	In vain at Linda's door.
She said she'd represent us.
	She lied; She wanted to rule.
The endless power of government
	Is Linda's favorite tool.
The people wail and gnash their teeth.
	But Linda hears no sob.
For of course, she is a congressman
	Superior to the mob.
She cares not a whit about our rights,
	About freedom, justice or truth.
She's a thug in high-heeled jackboots,
	Who in turn deserves the boot.
©1997 Lucy Mosby Fox.
Permission to distribute freely granted.

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20 November, 1997