Old Yeller.

I am standing on the Golden Gate Bridge.

This morning I watched a line of ships form on the horizon. I watched troops in U.S. uniforms set up base camps on the shore. I watched a scouting party capture a girl who was looking for food in a trashed Starbucks just because they thought she was one of my kind. I would say they interrogated her, but they did not. The military does not interrogate. The military tortures.

This morning, America, I am reminded of Old Yeller. I look at you and I see a dog gone rabid. I see a beast that attacks not because it must but because it _can_.

Because it _wants_ to.

My kind is different. We are stronger. Faster. We see and feel and know things that scare you. We can walk through walls and walk through minds with equal ease. We are dangerous, undoubtedly, but we were not a danger. We were peaceful. We were unified. We were submissive.

That has changed.

You are rabid.

You need to be put down.