“Every flag that flies today”

Yeah, it’s reposting something that was posted just a week ago, but some things bear repeating, especially on this day.

A patriot is not a weapon.

A patriot is one who wrestles for the soul of her country
as she wrestles for her own being, for the soul of his country
(gazing through the great circle at Window Rock into the sheen of the Viet Nam Wall)
as he wrestles for his own being. A patriot is a citizen trying to wake
from the burnt-out dream of innocence, the nightmare
of the white general and the Black general posed in their camouflage,
to remember her true country, remember his suffering land: remember
that blessing and cursing are born as twins and separated at birth to meet again in mourning
that the internal emigrant is the most homesick of all women and of all men
that every flag that flies today is a cry of pain.

Adrienne Rich
Section XI, An Atlas of the Difficult World

Self-evident

Athenae gives us the 2007 blogger’s edition of the Declaration of Independence:

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the consent of our legislatures. He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitutionFor imposing Taxes on us without our Consent: For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury: For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences: For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies: For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments: For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

Just what I needed

After such a depressing week for our country, it seemed a bit odd to be marching in a Fourth of July parade for the first time since probably high school band days.

And there was the whole playing the kazoo in public thing…

But you know what? It was just what I needed: It was gloriously silly and yes, it was certainly a bit odd, and the Texas skies opened up at the end and drenched everyone, marchers and spectators alike, but in the tiny, funky and politically diverse village of Wimberley, no one misses the Fourth of July parade.

So march I did, and somewhere between the laughing and the waving and making a fool of myself, I remembered this day is, after all, about Independence.

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