Sunday, July 4, 2010

The Gods of Independence

Caveat Lector: vulgar language.

It gets harder and harder to be emotional about my country. I mean, all the patriotic drivel gets old, and I can only hold on to the nostalgia for so long. "God shed His grace on thee..." Seriously, how presumptuous can you get? Twice the whole lawn stood up for some old people playing dress up and carrying flags. I felt like an Irishman asked to stand for the Union Jack when the civil war reenactors marched up. So I stayed sitting. Think about it, what if a Eucharistic procession came through there. How many people would drop on their knees? Yet we'll stand out of respect for a flag that symbolizes... what exactly? Freedom, I guess... yeah, horse shit.

And then they played a song with lyrics about how good it is to be American, and serve America, and share your blessings (a clever euphemism for dropping bombs on civilians) and how when the writer died, he hoped they said of him he gave his best to America, or some such tripe.

Sure, share your blessings, but only if they don't go "boom!" Serve God, and pray that when you die, people say "he loved greatly" and then proceed to pray your soul through purgatory as fast as they can. That's what I want said of and done for me. I wouldn't give two Centimes for the sentiments in that song.

It strikes me that America is just a replacement for the Church. The president is the Pope, and Abraham Lincoln was Jesus, the founding fathers were the patriarchs. It's sick, but we are happy this way. So we continue to worship the gods of independence, we stand for their banner and cry at their hymns, and we kill in their name, and our crusades are good, because, you know, it is for us the living.... Because we are the people chosen by God to... I don't know, be... America... fuck yeah.


  1. In the off chance you haven't read them already-- I always enjoy Mark Shea's set of short essays on the subject.