Holy Moses, I'm A Patriot

July 9, 2004 - Friday

Holy Moses, I'm a patriot?!

Small one this time. Minor rant.

It's the 4th of Joo-lai, and I'm coming home late from the usual gathering of friends.

I hear chatter from across the street; the naybs had a little shindig, and the dying
remnants of their hen party is hanging around outside the house yacking it up and
gulping down cheap wine.

Now...I'm a native Noo-Yawker. This ain't shee-it to me. It ain't noise until
its 3am and you got the papa-chulos outside in their hoopties, blaring some salsa
and hiphop right outside your window while fire engine/police/ambulance sirens wail
a distress call in the background. Then - and only then - will I call it noise.
So the poor man's Dead Poet Society happening across from my window was no biggie.

What got my dick hard was their choice of decoration - union jacks, arrayed in a
nice little row hanging from their balcony and lit up so no one would miss them.
For those not in the know, the British flag is called the Union Jack.

So, here we are on the celebration of this country's birth, so to speak - celebrating
our goddamned independence from the United Fucking Kingdom, and these yahoos are
parading the one flag that would be considered the antithesis of that struggle!

The thing is, I appreciate the irony of it. I do. But oddly, this tiny little
friggin' Paul Revere that somehow found it's psychological self buried in my subconscious
decided that today was a good day to ring that gods-fucked bell and start yelling
"The British are Coming!"

So I was pissed. I glared at that house every morning for the next few days before
I finally let go of it.

Surprised the fuck out of me. Patriotism. Who knew?

I'd still kick George Jr's ass on national television, tho'. The fucker.