Talk is cheap...

...and tough talk is the cheapest of all. That's why the Naughty Girl has it in such vast quantities: it doesn't cost her anything.

A key element of phony tough-talk is standing fiercely against paper tigers: either loudly opposing things that everyone already hates ("I am AGAINST child molestation in ALL ITS FORMS!") or taking a brave stance against things that aren't actually happening ("I will do everything in my power to prevent Hugo Chavez from invading the United States!"). That way, you get to pat yourself on the back for being a real bad-ass straight-talker while incurring no risk whatsoever, as opposed to, for example, joining the Army or hooking up with Doctors without Borders.

Having fiercely defended the Vietnam Memorial against the nonexistent threat of being defaced by rampaging legions of hippies, Michelle now turns her fierce warrior-woman instincts towards the kind of evil Muslim scumbags who might sue you for racial profiling. Because, really, the true victims here aren't the clerics, who were arrested, detained, and forced to miss their flight even though they didn't do anything wrong: it's the innocent freedom-loving Americans who patriotically flipped out when crazy mixed-up Muslims prayed in a menacing fashion. Sure, the Muslims were also Americans, and they were exercising their freedom, but they didn't do it in an acceptable way, like buying a venti double macchiato or lecturing strangers about their bad parenting: they did it in a scary foreign way, by worshiping a scary brown god.

Anytime anyone uses the word "manifesto", you just know there's a big smelly cloud of flatulence floating in the air just ahead, and Michelle Malkin loaded up on red beans and rice before writing this so we wouldn't be disappointed. There's just so many things to love about the John Doe Manifesto:

Dear Muslim Terrorist Plotter/Planner/Funder/Enabler/Apologist,

Well, that about covers all of them, doesn't it?

I am traveling on your plane. I am riding on your train. I am at your bus stop. I am on your street. I am in your subway car. I am on your lift.

I am in your base, killing your dudes.

I am your neighbor. I am your customer. I am your classmate. I am your boss.

How about your employee? HA HA, no, no, seriously.

I will challenge your attempts to indoctrinate my children in our schools.

My child will not be one of the millions who have been converted to Islam in the public schools. I'm against things that aren't actually happening!

I will combat your violent propaganda on the Internet.

Acting like a tough guy on the internet, eh, Hadji? Well, a million can play that game!

I will resist the imposition of sharia principles and sharia law in my taxi cab, my restaurant, my community pool, the halls of Congress, our national monuments, the radio and television airwaves, and all public spaces.

I will ignore people's right to behave as they choose in their private businesses and homes, and will make up fictional examples of forcible imposition of sharia in public spaces where they haven't actually taken place. (The halls of Congress? What the fuck? National monuments?)

I will not be censored in the name of tolerance.

I will make sure that you, however, can be censored in the name of security.

I am John Doe.

I am Michelle Maglalang. And if anyone were to racially profile me (say, on the basis of several most-wanted-terrorists being Filipino) and make me miss a plane, I would sue the living shit out of them.

But that's different.