It’s impossible for me to ponder America and independence without conjuring the corpse of this most myopic of incongruities and mourne for its demise, be repelled by the self-serving whoring of its idealisation throughout years of global expansionism and oppression, or well-up with sorrow and shame for those who have the deep misfortune of dwelling in the cavernous tracts of poverty and malaise its explosive implementation has left in its wake. I will, in perpetuity it seems, be shocked and awed by those who can finesse the ruinous course independence has taken since our inception, celebrate this founding principle as if reality while ignoring its reverse trajectory, or otherwise defend irrefutably that we ever stood together as a nation devoted to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. America, the rebellious orphan, could have grown to become a striking and admirable figure but chose to rape and plunder instead, taking its bloodied sword from its own shores and the hearts of one indigenous people to the cradle of civilisation and theirs. We stand today an insecure bully nation secretively lauding its king and vanquishing empire, demanding respect while showing none towards others, its maniacal servants waiting restively in the wings with a crown of thorns in one hand and a gas pump nozzle in the other, eager to fit the prickly issue upon its concentric, moralising, elitist head and breathe a collective amen of relief.<\/p>\n
We are a nation of cowards so unsure of our own goodness we defend it pre-emptively. We have fallen into such a pathetic state of terminal disrepair a good number of us continue to defend the hysterical notion a third-world country broken by 12 years of sanctions posed some serious threat to our shores; an even more insidious crowd know it’s the excuse but are okay with it. And you’ll truck down to town centre with your “Rag Hat” Arafat fireworks and pump your little plastic flags into the air and say we should bomb the piss out of the Iraqis once and for all because they’re too stupid to know what’s good for them. You are humanitarians who have so little empathy in your bellies you can view pictures of the starving and crippled and turn away even when the fallen are your fellow citizens because in America, the real one, we only help when there’s something in it for us.<\/p>\n
Your independence is an illusion dependent upon walls built taller, the unwashed knocked into submission, and the dissenters made silent. And because the rough edges don’t cut your fingers when you pick-up the newspaper know the spirit of America has died in you as well.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s impossible for me to ponder America and independence without conjuring the corpse of this most myopic of incongruities and mourne for its demise, be repelled by the self-serving whoring of its idealisation throughout years of global expansionism and oppression, … Continue reading