The Official Texas State Secession Committee Interview

Saturday, 17 November 2012


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Writer's note: My father, a lifelong Virginia patriot, told me: "The only good thing that ever came out of Texas was an empty Greyhound Bus." I thought he was being overly critical of Texas back then, but my opinion changed during the course of this interview.

AUSTIN, Texas (ABSNN) - Texan John Rogers is on his way to his office on a street just a block from the Texas State House. Every doorway along the block seems to be flanked with two flags: the US flag and the Lone Star Flag of Texas.

The streets are filled with a diverse group of people of all races; whites and people of color hustle to and fro on their way to do whatever it is they do. Yet, wherever they came from, or wherever they were born, now they are all united in one fundamental way: they are Texans! As is John Rogers, who enters a store-front office with high, wide windows facing the street. In those windows are large signs that state "Official Texas State Secession Committee."

I spent three eight-hour-days with John Rogers to hear his story and to tell you what I learned. According to Rogers, "Texans are mightily pissed off." And therein lies our story.

Rogers tells me, "As of today, approximately 25,000 Texans have signed a petition to secede from the Union, primarily because Barack Obama was just reelected President of the United States of America.

"Well, that's one really big reason Texas has decided to leave the Union," says Rogers, a tall, thin, native born, 41-year-old Texan originally from Amarillo.

"But there are other compelling reasons too," he says in his soft, understated Texas drawl.

"Obama is a Moslem. He's African born, and I don't care what lies he has told about being from Hawaii. He wants to give the deadbeats who won't work the money I worked all my life to accumulate. He is a socialist. And I hear he is also gay. He wants to give Texas and the entire Southwest back to the "Cans." Plus, he's a high-yeller marauder…"

"You mean mulatto don't you," I asked him.

"He's that too," he said.

"Who, exactly, are the "Cans," I asked him.

"Isn't it obvious? The "Cans" are the Mexicans, the Africans, the Jamaicans, the Puerto Ricans, and the Cubicans," he told me (with a straight, if somewhat red, face).

"I see. Tell me more about the Texas Secession Committee," I asked him.

"As of today, more than twenty states have filed petitions to secede from the Union. Texas is the largest of the states that will eventually leave the US. We've informed Obama on his website He has to answer us. It's the law," he told me.

"But, Mr. Rogers, it only takes 150 signatures to get a response from, and that is an Obama program, not a law of any sort that I am aware of. I might also point out that the last time Texas seceded from the Union it did not turn out well for you Texans," I said as gently as I could because I had just seen a committee staffer open a large gun metal gray cabinet that appeared to contain enough assault rifles to equip a battalion of US Marines.

I pointed out (in my most non-threatening voice) that there were an awfully large number of AR-15 rifles in the cabinet.

"I see you know your guns pretty well for a reporter. Are you a veteran by any chance?"

"As a matter of fact, I did a couple-three tours in SE Asia. I have handled a few M-16's," I answered.

"Fine war, that one. Of course, I was too young to have served in Vietnam, but I would have. I assure you, I would have," he told me.

"Which branch did you serve in, Mr. Rogers?"

"Actually, I never got a chance to serve. You see, I have had major surgery on my left big toenail, and the Marine Corps wouldn't take me. Since I couldn't be a US Marine, I decided not to go all candy-assed and join the Army or Air Force. So I served in the Sea Scouts,' he said wistfully.

"I see. The Sea Scouts, huh? I wasn't aware they were still going when you were old enough to join at age 14," I said.

"Oh yes, I got a special dispensation from the Boy Scouts. I remember long hours standing watch aboard my father's 75 foot cabin cruiser. Tough work, but it made me stronger," he assured me.

"Well, sir, could we get back to the secession movement and your plans for Texas," I prodded.

"Absolutely. As soon as we break off ties with the Obama Nation, Texas will join a loose confederacy with the other 19 states that are leaving. Then we plan to take over all military installations within our state borders, including all military stores, equipment, arms and planes. Oh and the battleships too, of course."

"And it is your opinion, Mr. Rogers that President Obama will just up and give you all those federal installations with no questions asked." I asked him.

"Well, I'm certain he'll bitch and moan, but our sister state in the confederacy, North Dakota, has the majority of the nukes in the US arsenal, and Obama will have to just suck it up and deal with their loss. He won't know what hit him."

"Just how do you think you'll raise the money to pay for the gas for say, oh, Lackland Air Force Bases' planes, or their maintenance, or the Army tanks, not to mention the ships; and while I'm thinking about it, from where will all the funding for feeding your troops come?"

"Nebraska and Kansas will supply the food for the military. Texas, Wyoming and Alaska will provide the oil and refineries here in Texas will distill the petro products. Don't forget, Texas will own several high production oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico after we secede."

I suggested we end our conversation for the rest of the day and Mr. Rogers agreed. He took me out to lunch at a local Bar B Q restaurant where the special was beef short ribs.

I did not tell him that it was impossible for any meat other than pork to be real Bar B Q, mainly because I remembered the large cache of assault rifles in his office.

It has always been my opinion that Texans will smile at you while they shoot you, or drag you behind a pickup truck until your body disintegrates, so I just ate the nasty beef ribs and drank a bunch of Lone Star Beer which tasted much as I expected the piss from the beef we were eating would have tasted.

The next day the two of us resumed our discussion while men and women moved large crates of .223 ammunition into the office while we spoke.

"Mr. Rogers, what will your domestic policies be," I asked him.

"No more welfare. You work or starve, period," he said.

"But what about the handicapped and the aged. How will they survive in the New Texas Republic," I wondered aloud.

"We'll just move them to New Mexico. They don't plan to leave with us, so they can have all of those people," he said.

"What about immigration?"

"What about it? There won't be any immigrants coming here unless they are college educated and mostly white with enough gold and silver to last them for ten years, minimum."

At this point in our second day, I decided to call it a day. As diplomatically as possible, I turned down his offer of another plate of ribs, but I did take up his offer of a University of Texas cheerleader for an escort for the evening.

The next day, Mr. Rogers and I ended our interview after he explained that "with 25,000 signatures on his secession petition, he figured it would be only a matter of weeks before President Obama allowed Texas to leave the United States."

I reminded him that the first President of Texas, Sam Houston, had warned Texans not to secede from the Union back in April of 1861.

"Sam Houston was right then, but he'd be with us now.

"After all," he told me, "once we get the darkies back on the cotton plantations, England and France will recognize us as an independent nation and it'll all be smooth sailing from then on."

"Don't hold your breath, Mr. Rogers," I said out the side of my mouth. "Your neighborhood will never be the same again.

I left just as agents from the US Homeland Security arrived to take him to a new neighborhood, somewhere on Ft. Hood.

I'm sure his new neighbor, the bearded Muslim psychiatrist who shot all those soldiers and civilians will be most kind to him. Birds of a feather, you know.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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