America! America the beautiful! America the proud and strong and brave! America: a masterpiece of social theater! America: the greatest experiment of the modern age!
Wow, I am still really amped-up about my country and the love I have for it and its people. And no wonder! It's Independence Day, and I just partook in festively recalling, with hundreds of my compatriots, why our grand nation is so worth revering.
But I'll get around to reviewing America and its glory at a later date. For now, I'll stick with the Everytown, USA family fireworks and music revelry I just attended.
Let me set the scene for you: The Appalachian mountains are in the near distance at all sides, in all their azure, lumpy magnificence. The landscape along the single-lane highway is mostly green and golden pasture, with barns and farm homes sprinkled atop the hills, and star-spangled banners occasionally waving. Stately cows are dutifully munching the grass and being all cowy, like they do—like every good, American cow does.
A few miles outside the closest town, most of the 2,000 or so members of this bountiful, rural Virginian mountain county gathered this evening in a small, grassy valley to consume home-brewed libations and home-cooked succulency—to celebrate our freedom by freely choosing to eat and drink freely. God bless this country. God bless liberty!
It cost $20 per car to get into the festival. That might sound steep to you, but hey: fireworks ain't free. Also, the proceeds went to the local fire department, which is a good thing considering how dry it can get around these parts. One of these years a fireworks show will ignite a massive field and forest inferno that will devastate the entire county, so we had better start saving up.
There was a blues band on a small stage, complete with electrified guitars and bass, drums, a sax, and a well-intoxicated singer belting out and slurring our favorite anthems: "Ride, Sally, Ride"; that one that goes "Nah, Nah-Nah-Nah-Naaaah, Nah-Nah-Nah-Naaah Nah-Nah-Naaah Nah-Nah-Naaah, Nah-Nah-Nah-Naaaaah"; and others.
The music really made me think: too many people are too disconnected from the true meaning of our holidays. Thanksgiving isn't about football, it's about food. Halloween isn't about ghosts and black magic, it's about candy. Valentine's Day isn't about love or St. Valentine, it's about the colors red, pink, and magenta. And Independence Day isn't about the day America finally secured its independence, or the document stating our inalienable right to it, it's about being American. So what trait makes us American more than anything else? Being LOUD. And believe me, the event planners of Rappahannock County know that. Their PA goes up to 12, at least.
And so, once night fell and the crowd was about to explode with anticipation of the main act, the rockets blazed and bursted in air with a glare of reds, greens, purples, and golds, dazzling all who beheld it with its grandiosity, power, and all-American volume.
Many are too quick to judge Americans for being overly dramatic and overly simplistic. That may be true in some settings, but when it comes to a fireworks show, we're simply shooting for the stars; we have high standards, we take it seriously, and it shows. There was a rhythm and flow to the launching and explosions; there were adeptly layered and blended hues; the more spectacular fireworks were interspersed throughout the show so that they always took the audience by surprise; and there wasn't just one false finale, but TWO. When we put on a fireworks show, it's a work of art. An explosive work of art. A firework of art.
Ah, Americans. What mysteriously beautiful creatures. We sailed across the ocean to a strange new land, created a strange new identity, and constructed a new kind of society: one in which all people, strange and beautiful, are believed equally made, and are thus equally entitled to be free. And loud. And hungry and sparkling and drunk and creative and dorky and dramatic and...whatever! We’re a young country yet, and still working out the kinks. We’re still experimenting. Sometimes we falter and fail, sometimes we’re crude and cruel—and yes, once in a while, maybe a little too loud—but sometimes…we are positively
dazzling.
Poison Ivy
Many factors caused me to resist reading the Kick-Ass comic books as they were released: I had heard that they were overly violent, there were long expanses of downtime between issues, and now they're making the comics into a movie that looks fairly cheesy. I'd heard a lot of exciting things as well, though, about how the comics create a realistic, modern story of a superhero, so when the collected version came out in hardcover, I decided to give it a chance.
Keanu Reeves is not a good actor. At his very best, he is competent enough that he does not bother the viewer; in The Matrix he got by largely because he barely had any lines apart from "whoah" and "what." He's functional and able to play characters that are very dull, sort of annoying, or both. At his worst, though, he is an enormous detriment to the films he is in: see Constantine (although that one had plenty of other problems) and The Devil's Advocate (that horrible accent!) for examples.
Whenever I go into a GameStop, the people behind the counter try to get me to pay them for games that have not come out yet. This is ridiculous, first off, because you get no discount at all for the game. Also, they will have plenty of them on the day they come out, so it is entirely unnecessary that you spend money early. I'm amazed anyone falls for it.
Good move, Supreme Court. Well played.
The Malayan tapir is an endangered species that is shaped like a pig, has a mini-trunk like a stunted elephant, and is genetically related to horses. It has four toes on its front feet and three on its back feet. Is it more cute or more weird? I'm not really sure. It's definitely pretty cute when it's little, that's for sure. When it grows up, it looks like this:
The strange markings you see are a form of self defense. The idea is that maybe, just maybe, predators will think that the tapir is a large rock or something. Oh, and they're mostly nocturnal and the largest species of tapir in the world.
Twilight is a poorly written series of books which include abusive relationships with vampires, pedophile werewolves, and an undead, murderous fetus. They have been transformed into uncompromisingly abysmal movies aimed primarily at teenaged women. Somehow they have reached a fever pitch of popularity with minimal cultural backlash from the expected corners of society.
Canada is awesome. When you make fun of me for being born there, and for my obsession with all things Canadian, it is because you are jealous.
Pros: I'm not sure that paper clips could ever be made more effective than they are now. The design is so simple and elegant that it's almost erotic: The shape curves gently, and the metal is just pliant enough that it resists being bent, but slides apart with gentle pressure. Paper clips are also named almost perfectly; they clip papers together. They could also be called paper holders, or very-thin-things clips, but neither of those names have the same appeal. If you want to keep several papers together without damaging them with a stapler, a paper clip is probably your best option.
The weather today is not nearly as cold as it has been. It is not immediately uncomfortable to go outside, and I was able to walk for several minutes with my coat open, though I did require a hat and a sweater. The days seem to be getting warmer, but there is still a chill in the air which subtly implies that things might get worse before they get better. The day is clear and bright, both traits which impart a sense of optimism.
