O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
America’s national anthem ends with a question mark.
That’s easy to forget, because all of our best memories of it being performed are so declarative and unambiguous in their pride. Often times, there will be military jets racing across the sky over packed football stadiums to put an exclamation point on the song’s soaring final notes. In those moments, the usual taken-for-grantedness of our blessings ebbs long enough and we are certain, if only fleetingly, that we are self-evidently part of something special.
That all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Happiness beyond words when watching an American athlete stand atop the Olympic podium with gold around their neck, and tears running down their cheeks, as they sing and gaze upon the rising colors. Or life and liberty beyond the last full measure of devotion, as veterans solemnly pause to salute a flag at a monument built by a grateful public to recognize the dignity of their sacrifice.
Behind it all is a sort of civic herd immunity, if you will, to the viciousness and the vices that sought to keep America from being birthed in the first place — or to keep it from flourishing once it took root. We, the people, have always been charged with passing that immunity on from generation to generation. We make declarative statements and take declarative action when it really matters to eliminate all doubt of our willingness to stand that post. That is supposed to be our defining legacy as a people.
No question marks on our watch.
“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish…”
“… this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
“You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hope and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you.”
“…when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”
But let’s face it. Most of America at this point has never heard those historic words, let alone knows who said them. Yet many of those same ignorant people are ready and willing to virtue signal that it is time to tear all the statues down because the past is, by definition, racist.
Welcome to CHAZ, a place that exists in the hearts and minds of traitors within our ranks well beyond the bounds of Seattle. It is where the disconnect from the reality of the words laid out above is total and simply beyond repair. Up is not only down, but down is a dude who can menstruate.
Which is also why Fourth of July events are being given the lockdown treatment while violent BLM/Antifa mobs and the Rainbow Jihad are allowed to commandeer the streets with impunity. You are being told in no uncertain terms that this isn’t your country. You, your hopes, your dreams, they are canceled and may even deserve a random beating if you are really lucky. Because America was never good anyway.
One political party in this country has a tramp stamp of that sentiment tattooed on its non-gender specific back, while the other has a not-so-secret fetish for being dominated into submission by such usurpers. A virus has consumed us, and it has nothing to do with COVID.
So I’m afraid I can’t wish you a happy 4th this year. I simply don’t know how. Land of the free? Home of the brave? All I see, all I hear, is the question mark.