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Pat RiotJuly 04, 2008 Ever notice that when we're really sure of something, we don't need to trumpet it to the skies or rub everyone else's nose in it? It's the person who goes on and on and on about how perfect her marriage is who's in divorce court by the end of the year. This kind of patriotism is like a certain kind of religion, a raft that people cling to when they're scared sh*tless about where the river is carrying them. And when you're that scared, the biggest enemy is the person who says the raft is breaking up, or we don't need the raft to ride the river. I wonder a lot about whether the wars fought and atrocities committed in the name of God were fought and committed by people who believed in God -- or by people who didn't and were afraid of being found out. Some days I wonder if the entire leadership of the religious right consists of men who can't handle their attraction to other men. Here's an idea for a Fourth of July celebration: Find an emperor who's parading around nekkid and tell him he's got no clothes on. Start small, maybe with some petty apparatchik in some organization you belong to, or maybe a member of your family. Work your way up to someone with serious clout. If going up against someone with serious clout looks foolhardy, organize a few friends and do it en masse. You don't have to do it on the Fourth of July; it's a holiday, after all, and there's a weekend coming up. You've got till the end of the month. For the Fourth of July WUMB-FM scheduled specials all morning and afternoon; each one featured a particular performer and included lots of recorded concerts. Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band were on from 9 to 10 a.m.; the featured concert was in Dublin. Oh dear. By 9:30 I had ordered both the live CD of the Dublin concert and the American Land edition of the Seeger Sessions tour. When Dylan came on around midday (after 30 years or whatever it is, I still can't handle Dylan's voice for more than 10 consecutive minutes), I put the We Shall Overcome edition of the Seeger Sessions tour on the boombox and whenever I've been home, it's been on. Wonder of wonders: disc 2, which has been screwed up on "Bring 'em Home" ever since the "friend" I last lent it to returned it to me, played through without a skip. It's a miracle. No. The real miracle of the day is that the canine in residence has slept through all the fireworks. I dimly remember a time when Rhodry didn't cower at the foot of the nearest stairs when the boom-boom started, but it was a long time ago.
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