It's the Fourth - Let's Blow Some Shit Up:
As always on Independence Day, the Rude Pundit awoke this morning with this Kurt Vonnegut quote from Cat's Cradle in his head: "Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns." And, by the way, the Rude Pundit thinks himself a patriot to an unrealized and perhaps, really, impossible dream of America, but "America" just the same.
But, apparently, he's not all up in everyone's face enough about his patriotism. According to a poll over at Fox "News," Republicans love America a fuck of a lot more than non-Republicans. 'Cause, see, while 52% of us "are more proud" to be Americans this happy Fourth O' July, 63% of Republicans are feelin' the pride bulge in their pants, compared to a pathetic, traitorous 44% of Democrats. (Independents, never able to figure out if they should shit or get off the pot, are at an expected 50%.) As for the converse, feelin' "less proud"? 14% of Dems, 2% of Repubs.
Go read the rest of this bullshit poll, which reveals such magical stats as 93% of Americans would rather live here than any other country and 94% practice the Golden Rule at least "most of the time." Head out into your streets and town squares and river banks. Swell with nationalistic fervor as you gaze upon your U.S.-lovin' neighbors who would do unto others what they would have done unto them. Cry a tear of joy as you hear the tributes to the troops, hearing the words of the President about freedom here and elsewhere. Watch the gorgeous fireworks, all perfectly choreographed to Toby Keith, Lee Greenwood, and the Boston Pops, the breathtaking, bursting flowers and rocket trails, the mock explosions of beautiful, unending war.
(Thanks to Deanna Swift over at the Swift Report for the heads up on the poll.)
(By the way, the full context of that Vonnegut quote is really stunning and prescient:
"We are gathered here, friends," he said, "to honor lo Hoon-year Mora-toorz tut Zamoo-cratz-ya, children dead, all dead, all murdered in war. It is customary on days like this to call such lost children men. I am unable to call them men for this simple reason: that in the same war in which lo Hoon-year Mora-toorz tut Zamoo-cratz-ya died, my own son died.
"My soul insists that I mourn not a man but a child.
"I do not say that children at war do not die like men, if they have to die. To their everlasting honor and our everlasting shame, they do die like men, thus making possible the manly jubilation of patriotic holidays.
"But they are murdered children all the same.
"And I propose to you that if we are to pay our sincere respects to the hundred lost children of San Lorenzo, that we might best spend the day despising what killed them; which is to say, the stupidity and viciousness of all mankind.
"Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.
"I do not mean to be ungrateful for the fine, martial show we are about to see – and a thrilling show it really will be…"
He looked each of us in the eye, and then he commented very softly, throwing it away, "And hooray I say for thrilling shows."
We had to strain our ears to hear what Minton said next.
"But if today is really in honor of a hundred children murdered in war," he said, "is today a day for a thrilling show?
"The answer is yes, on one condition: that we, the celebrants are working consciously and tirelessly to reduce the stupidity and viciousness of ourselves and all mankind." )
