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Here's my email to dear Mister Robinson. I first asked him to reinstate my account but sent another email right afterwards and wanted to share it with the good folks here at not so FREE Republic. I'm sure it will get deleted but I can be assured that if just one of you sees it, more of you will talk about it. You chose to label me. I found a label that works for dear Jim. I think he could have quite the career. Kisses! :)

Dearest Jim,

Please don't bother to reinstate my account as I do not have time for it now. In fact, I believe I have another use for you, upon researching your unfortunate malady online. I've been looking to hire amputees and cripples for Festival of the Dead (www.festivalofthedead.com). I'm especially looking for veterans since they are often missing the most parts in the most places. I know how much you believe in the traditions and absolute morality of yesteryear. In days of old, folks such as yourself didn't have the benefit of wheelchairs; they were thrown the corn cob and made to wobble on over to it or they starved. I promise, if you work for Shawn and I, you will never starve, but I will have to ask you to leave your wheels at home. See, we're going to be teaching children to contact spirits this year, maybe even demonic forces and other old friends, all in the name of timeless tradition of course. And you should be happy about that because it was the many whiners from your web site who inspired me to "up the ante" as it were. I mean, your simple folk couldn't handle a basic self-help event without complaining. In the words of most mothers, we gave you something to really cry about. But the problem is, we need workers, especially for our psychic fair. The millions of visitors to Salem want to be scared. There's nothing quite as special as a legless cripple with stumps to wobble after our tourists. The fact that you're a veteran means we can support our troops at the same time, honoring the hard work you've done. After all, it's not like days gone by, where armies would have left the wounded like you to be eaten by carrion crows.

We hope you'll consider coming to work for us, Jim. It would mean a lot to us.

Yours in Christ,

Christian

You chose to label me.

You are one disturbed, sick little "it", aren't you? You choose to be sexually dysfunctional. You chose to die and early death. You choose to be an outcast of the human race.
You chose to infect others with your diseases.
You've labeled yourself. It was YOUR choice. That's what you are. If you don't like the reflection we've shown you, seek help.

Taking out your self hate, self pity. and self absorption on a good man like Jim, who was willing to give up his life for all of us, shows how truly disturbed you really are.