It’s a 235th birthday party for a nation with a fascination of blowing things up. My whole life this country has either been in one or war was imminent. I hope I am not the only one who finds this reality of the human race repulsive. We elect what looks like peace loving presidents and as soon as they take the oath they are sucked like doves into the engine of the war machine. When will it end?
But, it is a birthday of a country celebrating the independence from the evil British Empire. Those governments long ago kissed and made up. Yet, we still find reason to celebrate. Let’s all go buy fireworks from the Chinese and blow stuff up in the neighborhoods. This is my least favorite tradition of all American holidays. Just like real bombs, they leave a mess and too often nobody cleans it up. It scares the animals and I just don’t get the purpose of polluting the air, causing full emergency rooms and starting house fires.
We are so quick with bombs and so slow with allowing love. Where is the liberty and justice for those who choose alternative lifestyles? Where is the love for the infirm, the elderly, the helpless children? What business do we as a society have to dictate what you can do with your own body? We would rather spend our money bombing far away lands than having compassion for those in this country. Is there really any wonder why other people despise us? When will love become a priority in our society? When will we discover this is the solution, quit resisting and embrace it?
On this Independence Day, we are dependent on foreign oil, the Chinese who have outsmarted us economically and a puppet government run by the big bucks of large corporations. We are not independent and like fools, we blindly choose to blow stuff up. Sure, fireworks are pretty. But, I’ll choose the more peaceful gaze up at the stars in the sky than any sewn on a piece of fabric.
Bombs away neighbors, I’ll have my garden hose at the ready.