Dear Mr. Limbaugh,
First off, keep doing the important work you’ve been doing of spreading kindness everywhere. There’s nothing that helps comfort surviving family members more than coming up with a one-phrase explanation for someone’s suicide.
You did, however, get something wrong in your recent statements about the tragic death of Robin Williams. That’s uncharacteristic, so I knew you would want to be alerted right away.
I know it must indeed seem to you like liberals are never happy. We’re always hand-wringing over people who are addicted to prescription drugs or fretting over some totally imaginary evil like child sex tourism. It’s such a stark contrast to your relentlessly cheerful and upbeat show.
But I want to reassure you that we do experience happiness every now and then.
We are happy during the Gay Pride parades, when we throw our gay-soaked beads into the crowds, knowing that the minute they touch bare skin, we have started the process of breaking up innocent straight families.
We are happy when we force schools to use textbooks that say that slavery in America existed and was bad, because nothing turns a child to dope and Paganism faster than an understanding of historic inequalities.
We are happy each time another day passes and our liberal media once again fails to report that dioxin in the groundwater not only cures cancer, it causes supervirility and a hardy entrepreneurial spirit.
We are happy during our ceremonies for the Horned God of the Forest, when we sacrifice a rich man — always a straight, white rich man — and blend him into kale smoothies that we feed to the bunnies and deer.
And we are happy again when we distribute that rich straight white man’s goods to the poor. But only the undeserving poor, the ones sitting in their yards drinking beer while endorsing their ill-gotten government handout checks and not even looking for a biochemical engineering job.
We are happy when we chortle into the sleeves of our summer parkas, knowing we have fooled 99.5% of all the scientists in the world with our global warming hoaxes.
We are happy when we run over coal and oil executives with our Priuses.
We are ecstatically happy once a year when our Dark Queen Rachel Maddow opens the gates to the vast, completely undeveloped plains where we have hidden all the lions and tigers and polar bears and we frolic and gambol among them. And you know what? They like to be hunted. They love it. But we won’t, because if there is one thing that makes us extra happy, it is being killjoys.
When the evening comes, we use our vast stockpiles of free birth control to have our joyous annual latte-and-quinoa-fueled orgy, where there are only three rules:
- Do What Thou Wilt shall be the whole of the law.
- Except for this list of government safety regulations.
- No straight sex unless it’s part of a threesome.
And we are happy whenever Neil Degrasse Tyson speaks, because he is awesome.
Other than that, you’ve pretty much got us nailed.