It is almost comic, nah, hell, it's hilarious, to watch the Moonbats, led by their batty high priestess, Cindy Sheehan, undertake a new attempt to garner media attention. When I first heard about their planned Troops Home Fast, my immediate reaction was, 'Hey, she can stand to lose a little weight and maybe if she lays off the tofu for a while her brain processes will clear up some.'

But now we see that Liberals approach fasting with the same muddled dedication with which they defend their country. You boldly step up and volunteer to courageously go all out, or rather, without, for a whole twenty—four hours, at the end of which you pass the buck on to some other witless Moonbat, while you sit around pigging out on Ben & Jerry's Half Baked, soaking up the adulation of fellow revolutionaries around the world, smug in your sense of accomplishment, knowing your sacrifice will be hailed by the fifth column media. Boy, don't you just feel so, like totally satisfied, so connected to all those other brave freedom fighters like Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon, ready to take their places up there on the ramparts, in the vanguard of the proletariat, willing to sacrifice all for the downtrodden of the world? Well, OK, for twenty—four hours, anyway.

But there are some truly committed stalwarts in the Moonbat movement. Mother Sheehan is far too dedicated to the socialist revolution, led by her hero, Hugo Chavez, who, by the way, looks like he needs to go on an extended fast, to be diddling around with any of this Hollywood twenty—four hour, rolling fast business. Nope, none of that tentative, toe in the water stuff for the Earth Mother of the Revolution. Why, she's now on Day Six of her total commitment to world solidarity, denying herself all sustenance until that evil Bush brings the Troops Home Fast; well, all sustenance that is, except an occasional Jamba Juice Smoothie or maybe some coffee with vanilla ice cream in it. Of course, should Mother Sheehan become so weakened from her denial of food to the point that she loses her ability to deliver her thundering rhetoric on the evening news in that adorable, teeny—bopper timbre we've all come to know and love, then her Code Pink handlers are standing by with protein—fortified juice drinks or avocado slices to help this brave woman through her ordeal.

And therein lies their problem: Liberals fast like they fight wars; it's all about good intentions and appearances, all talk and no substance; and it must only be done in such a way that no one suffers real pain or true loss. It's all about feeling that you are accomplishing something; and when you no longer feel that, perhaps there is some actual pain involved, then it's time to pull back and put an end to that pain. Hey, how about a Ben & Jerry's pig—out?

That's what the Democrats and the Moonbats (I know that's becoming increasingly redundant) are offering the American public, a smoothie, ice—cream future free of the pain of fighting those misunderstood terrorists. Kerry, Murtha, Kennedy and their crowd feel your pain, America, and they know how to keep it at bay: just like liberal fasting, we'll only fight terror till it starts to hurt then we'll pull out and pig out on Ben & Jerry's new flavor created especially for Democrats: DeMinted Delight.
 
Russ Vaughn is the Poet Laureate of The American Thinker and a combat veteran of the Vietnam War.