Bread, Right, and Froo: A Patriotic Post
Most of my blog hits nowadays seem to be coming from people doing google searches on "Weasley is our King," or "Occlumency," or the occasional "women's sexual pleasure". Which last is quite funny because I am perenially not getting any.
On to the topic. The other day my roommate and I were in the grocery store, passing by row after row of patriotically decorated everything, from cups and plates to candy to flowers to -- well, let's put it this way, I wouldn't be surprised if you can buy red-white-and-blue disposable razors now. Or patriotic maxi pads. "I am sick of all this red, white, and blue," I said as I followed my roommate down the aisle toward the freezer case. "Y'know why? It's less special now that it's bloody everywhere." "Ah," my roommate said, deliberating upon a box of chicken wings, "but our President says that it's even more special now." "Oh, it's special all right," I said, "it rides the short bus."
Speaking as someone who was sentimentally patriotic before it was cool, I have to say that there is a certain point at which one gets fed up with the banal flag-waving. It's because I respect the American flag that I don't stick it all over things and in things, from refrigerator magnets to cupcakes to clothing. I don't put it on my car antenna to get whipped into rags by the wind, and I don't leave it on my porch to fade in the sun and get soaked in the rain. I don't begrudge people their enthusiasm, but when I see these things done I cringe and want to tell them that if they're going to fly the flag they should bloody well do it right. (And yes, I think a Britishism is quite appropriate there.)
In addition to losing its specialness and respect, the flag as a symbol loses meaning when it saturates the visual landscape. When I see it now, all I can say is: Oh, that person is "patriotic." I am much less likely to think of the country that flag symbolizes -- much less likely to think of my home -- than I am to think that the flag-flyer or the color-draper is an ardent Republican who supports the war in Iraq and various other things I'm so un-American for disagreeing with. And there's an aggressive element to this flag-flying business too: flying the flag now means that you are fighting the good fight against All Those Others who want to take away our freedom. Hello? The only people I see rallying forces against our freedom -- our solid, durable, everyday freedom -- are Americans. Americans, I shouldn't need to add, who also fly the flag. If the real threat to our freedoms lies within, then why are we beating drums and flying flags against it, when we have met the enemy and it is us? The meaning I have always loved in our flag has been lost: the same meaning I can still see when I cross a state border and see a new state flag flying -- the banner of welcome to somebody else's home, and the banner of welcome to my own when I return.
I miss the times in which flying the flag -- flying many flags -- draping everything in red, white, and blue -- was a special occasion of almost liturgical significance. Now I can't distinguish the occasion of patriotism -- the anniversary of our colonial independence -- from the everyday. And when you try to raise the level of the everyday to the level of the special, all you end up doing is dragging the special down. People have been profaning the sacred for ages, and yet nobody has learned this important lesson. All this sound and fury? Well, you know. I'll probably wear my colors tomorrow, and smile when the flag goes up the pole; but it'll be with one auspicious and one dropping eye.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled wibbling.
Most of my blog hits nowadays seem to be coming from people doing google searches on "Weasley is our King," or "Occlumency," or the occasional "women's sexual pleasure". Which last is quite funny because I am perenially not getting any.
On to the topic. The other day my roommate and I were in the grocery store, passing by row after row of patriotically decorated everything, from cups and plates to candy to flowers to -- well, let's put it this way, I wouldn't be surprised if you can buy red-white-and-blue disposable razors now. Or patriotic maxi pads. "I am sick of all this red, white, and blue," I said as I followed my roommate down the aisle toward the freezer case. "Y'know why? It's less special now that it's bloody everywhere." "Ah," my roommate said, deliberating upon a box of chicken wings, "but our President says that it's even more special now." "Oh, it's special all right," I said, "it rides the short bus."
Speaking as someone who was sentimentally patriotic before it was cool, I have to say that there is a certain point at which one gets fed up with the banal flag-waving. It's because I respect the American flag that I don't stick it all over things and in things, from refrigerator magnets to cupcakes to clothing. I don't put it on my car antenna to get whipped into rags by the wind, and I don't leave it on my porch to fade in the sun and get soaked in the rain. I don't begrudge people their enthusiasm, but when I see these things done I cringe and want to tell them that if they're going to fly the flag they should bloody well do it right. (And yes, I think a Britishism is quite appropriate there.)
In addition to losing its specialness and respect, the flag as a symbol loses meaning when it saturates the visual landscape. When I see it now, all I can say is: Oh, that person is "patriotic." I am much less likely to think of the country that flag symbolizes -- much less likely to think of my home -- than I am to think that the flag-flyer or the color-draper is an ardent Republican who supports the war in Iraq and various other things I'm so un-American for disagreeing with. And there's an aggressive element to this flag-flying business too: flying the flag now means that you are fighting the good fight against All Those Others who want to take away our freedom. Hello? The only people I see rallying forces against our freedom -- our solid, durable, everyday freedom -- are Americans. Americans, I shouldn't need to add, who also fly the flag. If the real threat to our freedoms lies within, then why are we beating drums and flying flags against it, when we have met the enemy and it is us? The meaning I have always loved in our flag has been lost: the same meaning I can still see when I cross a state border and see a new state flag flying -- the banner of welcome to somebody else's home, and the banner of welcome to my own when I return.
I miss the times in which flying the flag -- flying many flags -- draping everything in red, white, and blue -- was a special occasion of almost liturgical significance. Now I can't distinguish the occasion of patriotism -- the anniversary of our colonial independence -- from the everyday. And when you try to raise the level of the everyday to the level of the special, all you end up doing is dragging the special down. People have been profaning the sacred for ages, and yet nobody has learned this important lesson. All this sound and fury? Well, you know. I'll probably wear my colors tomorrow, and smile when the flag goes up the pole; but it'll be with one auspicious and one dropping eye.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled wibbling.
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