Becki surveys the Terri Schiavo Coalition, and finds it righteous:

Some of the nicest people on this planet came to our little vigil today, as they have many days this past week and a half. A little old man and woman, gimme caps and sneakers, all sweet and gray and docile looking. Looking at them, you'd think, "Southern Baptist, Republican, conventional. I think I'll ask them to direct me to the local John Birch Chapter."

Proceed at your own risk - you have been warned. . . .

The Mitchells are FLAMING liberals, total atheists and rabid Democrats. Not to mention they have wicked ninja skills. Mess with Mom Mitchell, and she will turn you into dog food; Dad Mitchell will just break you with his mind. They are also completely and totally on Terri's side.

The juxtaposition of atheist, liberal and pro-Terri crashes journalists' mental harddrives. It literally drives them insane. Watching Mom Mitchell take apart a reporter is fun. They are not expecting her to go crazy-go-nuts all over them when they assume she's part of the "religious right" simply because she supports Terri Schiavo's right to live. I didn't know grannies knew that kind of language, but there it is. The air literally turns blue, and then Dad hauls out a load of literature and pictures and stuff, and by the time they finish with him, the reporter is just a quivering heap of suppositions. Mom and Dad Mitchell are both just awesome in every way. They simply do not give a rat's bohiney about what other people think they should think. I sit back, look at them, and think to myself: "if I ever turn into a flaming liberal atheist democrat, I want to be just like them."

But if you want to see some heads explode, you should have seen what happened when the pro-weed, pro-Terri people showed up on day three. . .

. . . I think Andrew (aka "DJ Quick Silver) said it best today. He's the techno-rave DJ who's pretty popular here in Florida; he just also happens to be quadriplegic. I had to fetch his smoothies today right before he tried to storm the police with his wheelchair and a cup of water. His take: "I have a right to live just as much as you people do." He was incredible today, and he spoke well for all of us - the right and the left, the abled and differently-abled alike.

Becki notes the opposition:

The Hunger Strike continues, and all is not well. I am so tired and frequently weak, and it is probably a good thing, or there would be violence from me toward's Michael Schiavo's supporters. Yesterday the Jackals descended to circle the expected carcass of Terri Schiavo. Of the four or five of them, many were drunk as they swayed, loudly singing songs, dancing while holding signs stating "Terri's Brain Dead" "She's Already Dead" and "Michael's Choice". Most of them are large, young affluent white males; they intimidate and harass the Terri's supporters endlessly. One large blond woman walked by the children holding roses for Terri, breathing expletives and profanities just below earshot of the police, but well within the hearing of the children.

They bullied themselves into a position so that Bob and Mary Schindler can see them each time they go in and out of the Hospice. One large man screams at Mary every time she passes by: "It's Michael's Choice" chanting it as if it were his mantra. Mary, visibly ill, is powerless to stop his ridicule, for he is protected by the power of free speech. They laugh amongst themselves, and mock the humanity of Terri, speaking of her as a "liquified brain" and "lower than a jellyfish".

Becki has also been fasting since Terri's feeding tube was yanked, and she has an empirically-derived challenge to Michael Schiavo's speculations about his wife's initial illness:

If I wonder what it's like to be starved and dehydrated to death, and if the experts are telling me that it's just such a marvelous experience, why on earth would I take their word for it? I'm all for authority, but these "experts" have none. They have never thirsted, they have hardly ever hungered, and they aren't going to tell me what it's like if they don't even have a clue. . . .

Isn't it ironic that I've gone for 10 days on nothing but water, Pedialyte and propel, and I haven't had a "potassium imbalance" like Michael Schiavo claimed Terri did? Because surely you know by now, the doctors never did diagnose that as the cause of Terri's collapse. They had to make that diagnosis post facto based Michael Schiavo's accusation that Terri was bulemic. Strange.

Question authority. Live extremely.

Maybe the Pedialyte has something to do with it? (But the sequence of events is correct.) Becki also has an empirically-derived response to the media propaganda about starvation:

First: where's my freekin' "starvation euphoria" they PROMISED me? These so-called experts have NO CLUE about this process - they've never done it to themselves, or they'd know that this hurts like a monkey chewing my innards ALL THE TIME. The dehydration isn't exactly a picnic either. The specifics?

My vision is getting blurrier. My co-ordination is getting a little off. And not to be a whiner, but my headache is still here and has now been joined by it's little friend, dryness. Drier skin, drier lips, drier everything. Don't make me go into details. Suffice it to say, this is not "drifting off to sleep". This is more like "getting kicked in the stomache to sleep". Awwwww, sounds so peaceful doesn't it? Especially uplifting are the abdominal pains, which are still sporadic and now more intense. It's a real hoot. Feels like clothespins and my intestine is the clothesline.

Ow. I want my EUPHORIA, you expert liars.