“

My people asked for rice, but got shot in the neck.

“

Someone is yelling. Behind the microphone is a squat man standing in front of a banner. His voice moves between the vociferations of an angry, tired lecturer, and the squeal of a jet turbine. He stands in front of a snaking insignia, a design clearly interested in evoking the swastika. People are clapping at every interval. The speaker waddles like an upside-down pendulum, taking secretly heavy breaths.

“

Human rights don’t apply to humans once they’re in our custody, because reasons.

“

“I don’t think this has been mentioned: Americans are moralistic.”

“

The inventor of the “gun bed.”

“

DNA doesn’t care who lives and who dies.

“

Because America, f–k yeah.

“

Maybe you’ve heard, Osama bin Laden was killed yesterday. The People of Twitter told me so. Or at least, told me I should step away from my computer and sit back down in front of my television to watch a press conference. But the press conference didn’t air when they said it would, so I started losing interest and flipping channels, distracted long enough to miss half the President’s address. Though I knew the gist: Jihadist #1 was dead.