Damn Fascists...

So, in the comments on Porter's Super Anarchy post I mentioned my mail being searched. Here is the tale.

I spent the majority of this past July in a small Ohioan town at Friends Music Camp, a Quaker affair based on immersing young musicians in musical studies. Their I befriended one Issac Plum. (Name obviously changed.) When I returned home after a month of melodic frolicking, I wrote many letters to my FMC friends, and I even received one. It was from Isaac.
Unlike most mail I receive, this envelope was odd. It was not the curling hand of my friend on its face, nor was it the bright postage stamps in the corner. It was the gaping slice through the side. Confused, I read the letter. It concluded with the jesting phrase "I promise that the honey stick isn't too poisonous..."
There was no honey stick.
It was then that I noted that Isaac had, as is his custom, signed the envelope Comrade Plum. The fascists had noted the Communist undertones, read my mail, and stolen my delicious golden organic goodness. Evil bastards.