Boycott The Fourth Of July

I’ve decided to boycott the Fourth of July. What does that really mean? Probably nothing. My little act of rebellion will be as hollow and meaningless as the holiday itself, but it will make me feel good. It will be cathartic. Let others eat hot dogs, drink beer, and gape at fireworks. I’m going to find something more meaningful to do, I dunno, like plant tomatoes or buy a one-way ticket to Uruguay. Let ’em praise the blessings of American freedom while policemen with tasers and riot gear stand ready to defend them from that freedom at any moment, and the Lloyd Blankfeins of this world — those who really own the fruited plain (now genetically modified by Monsanto) — lounge on their yachts and count stolen loot, amazed at how stupid we truly are. Let them sing along to that heinous Lee Greenwood song while American bombs kill people who’ve never done or wished them any harm.

Not me. I’m taking this year off. If you care to join me in this masturbatory exercise in pointless futility, welcome! but remember — no TV. They’ll probably be showing war films. Patriotic holidays are always celebrated on TV by showing war films. We have to wean ourselves off of war and learn to identify patriotism with some other activity (Sex? Gardening? You decide, just as long as it doesn’t involve a rocket’s red flare and bombs bursting in air).

When I see an American flag, all I can picture is an Exxon logo and a predator drone. Am I wrong to do so?