I was struck by something Nancy Grace said tonight (I don't watch her, she was just on after the hour rollover): "I don't know what's wrong with this country... this sickness we have."

That sickness you and many others wring their hands about- that's freedom, honey.

You see, the one thing we treasure above anything else is personal freedom. That freedom means that we don't ask our neighbors about the strange noises coming out of their basement at night, where they might have some 8-year old chained to the concrete floor. That's the sound of freedom.

Freedom is dozens of talk show hosts that can whip dozens of psychopaths into strapping on body armor, shooting police, shooting up churches, truck-dragging and beating their perceived enemies to death and leaving them to die in the cruelest ways possible, and we don't even ask those pundits to suggest a correction when they admit the caller is factually incorrect, that our President does have a proper birth certificate, and that he isn't going to take all the guns away. Those gunshots, those horrible screams of people being murdered- that's the sound of freedom.

In other countries, people look out for each other. They look out for the weak, and when someone looks like they're ready to snap, well, the Polizei can actually take someone in and force them to see a shrink before they off a dozen people. Here, involuntary commitment is only possible after a tragedy, after the blood is mopped off the sidewalk, and even then, it's almost impossible.

That blood on the sidewalk- that's the "red" in the red, white, and blue, baby. Get used to it. Grab the kids, haul them inside, put another deadbolt on the door, load the Browning High-Power, turn off the lights, eat your chemically poisoned / salmonella-tainted food, and close the closet door before you turn on the laptop to check your decimated 401(k).

And while you're in there, don't forget to celebrate how free you are.