Saturday Open Thread [WeirdDave]

America, bitches.

I was talking with BrettCochran at NOVAMOME. I told him that one of the worse things about the avalanche of leftism in the last few years is the way it seems to be eroding my internal love for America. "Take the 4th of July. I've always loved the 4th. Good times with friends and family. Abundant food, good company, beer, community, and then when the fireworks go off, patriotic music playing, I would always feel a swell of pride in my chest. *I* was a part of that. Me. Blessed to be the inheritor of the last, best hope of mankind. 10,000 years of human civilization, and we finally got it right. The 4th has always been an emotional affirmation. Last year I didn't get that feeling, I just felt sad, like I was watching something beautiful die"

Oh, Suzannah
I've Been Working On the Railroad
John Henry

Surprisingly, Cochran didn't scorn my pathos. He actually nodded. "I know just how you feel. I don't get sad though, I get angry." Know what? He was right.

Pennsylvania 6-5000
Swanee River
The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Last night I had a very different experience. Our usual 4th of July plans fell through, and I was invited by a client to his party. Gingy and I went, with some trepidation. She didn't know any of these people, and it only knew my client. It turned out to be great. By coincidence, one of my client's daughters in law was a friend of Gingy. Little spent four hours in the pool. And the fireworks! Client wheeled an 18' trailer, packed stem to stern with fireworks, out of his barn, and they went off for damn near half an hour, not 20 yards from where we were all sitting around the pool ( fireworks are so much better when you're in the ash fallout zone. I never knew ). I said "America, F'k yea!" At least a dozen times. The feeling was back!

This Land is your Land
Wabash Cannonball
If I Had a Hammer

As we were driving home, the radio was playing straight Americana. American folk. American blues. American jazz. American rock. And then it struck me, what I knew all along. These were the songs of my people, of my culture, and it doesn't take a backseat to anybody, no sir.

Michael Row the Boat Ashore
Dixie
Battle of New Orleans

You want to tell me my country is racist Mr. Hipster? Show me another country where the dominant ethnic group fought a bloody civil war against themselves to free an oppressed minority. You want to tell me that my culture is sexist, Ms. Feminist? Let's talk about how little girls, around the world, 8 or 9 years old, are routinely held down on kitchen tables so that their clitoris can be snipped off with a pair of scissors, without anesthesia, to satiate the bloodlust of the real patriarchy.

My Darling Clementine
The Yellow Rose of Texas
My Bonnie

Mr. Gay Man wants to talk about how homophobic America is. The cranes in Iran, hung with the strange fruit of their hatred, beg to differ. Mr Occupy Wall Street thinks the 1% keep him from succeeding. Where on earth are you going to find more people who worked their asses off and got rich? Or more rich people who pissed it all away?

Home on the Range
Drunken Sailor
Do Your Ears Hang Low?

ENOUGH! These are the songs of my people, this is the land of my people. We are better than you. We built this society where you are free to whine and complain about your golden opportunity, and all you ever do is castigate us about it. Fuck off. You can have our society and culture when you pry it from our cold, dead hands. We're awake now, give it your best shot.

I don't think you have the balls for it.

America the Beautiful
Stars and Stripes Forever
The Star-Spangled Banner

posted by Open Blogger at 09:03 AM

| Access Comments