"Three things," he snapped. "The Second Amendment. The Second Amendment. And the Second Amendment."
He was passionate about the Bill of Rights. Yet the outrage became muted, even as the going got weirder. After Nixon, he couldn't seem to muster quite the same animus for Reagan or Clinton, heaping his scorn on sideshows like Ed Meese. And now that we have a regime so arrogant and rapacious that it makes one long for an upstanding, shifty-eyed werewolf like Richard Nixon, his voice is silent forever.
No, I won't be heading up to Woody Creek for the big farewell. There's too much work to do right here. A few of the boys are stockpiling Ketamine and cattle prods, waiting for the right moment to deploy. Like the old coot says at the end of the greatest gonzo Western ever made: "It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do."