Sunday, July 4, 2010

Happy Fourth of July.

From PJ O'Rourke's Holidays in Hell:
"...Eventually he got, as the Europeans always do, to the part about
"Your country's never been invaded." ... "You don't know the horror, the suffering. You think war is..."

I snapped. "A John Wayne movie," I said. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? We think war is a John Wayne movie. We think life is a John Wayne movie - with good guys and bad guys, as simple as that. Well, you know something, Mister Limey Poofter? You're right. And let me tell you who the bad guys are.

They're us. WE BE BAD.

"We're the baddest-assed sons of bitches that ever jogged in Reeboks. We're three-quarters grizzly bear and two-thirds car wreck and descended from a stock-market crash on our mother's side. You take your Germany, France, Spain, roll them all together and it wouldn't give us room to park our cars.

We're the big boys, Jack, the original, giant, economy-sized, new and improved butt kickers of all time. When we snort coke in Houston, people lose their hats in the Cap d'Antibes. And we've got an American Express card credit limit higher than your piss-ant metric numbers go.

"You say our country's never been invaded? You're right, little buddy. Because I'd like to see the needle-dicked foreigners who'd have the guts to try. We drink napalm to get out hearts started in the morning. A rape and a mugging is our way of saying 'Cheerio.' Hell can't hold our sock-hops. We walk taller, talk louder, spit further, fcuk longer, and buy more things than you know the names of. I'd rather be a junkie in New York than king, queen, and jack of all you Europeans. We eat little countries like this for breakfast and siht them out before lunch."

Of course, the guy should have punched me. But this was Europe. He
just smiled his shabby, superior European smile.

God, don't these people have dentists?"

That pretty much sums up my patriotism. Quiet most of the time. More content spending holidays like the fourth getting drunk at a party on my buddy's roof than running around with a flag and musing on what the day means. He does have the best view of the fireworks in all of Manhattan, after all, and when they go off they look like they're coming right at you. It's even better if you're baked. So not much contemplation of the founders goes on. But nothing stirs me out of my soft and privileged complacency like some Eurotwat or beta male lefty badmouthing America. Then, they'll experience a different kind of fireworks going off in their face.

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