It was just 238 years ago that our forefathers voted, well a few of them who were gathered in Philadelphia at the time, those few voted that the British colonies in America, at least some of them, or any of those colonies which these forefathers could talk into the idea, ought to be and would be independent countries, hopefully in close alliance with each other. And maybe with France.
Certainly not with Spain.
Think of the potential immigration problems.
Then a couple of days later those same forefathers, meeting in that same building on Chestnut Street, voted for a formal declaration on that same topic. In those days, you couldn't say anything important in 140 characters, but needed several pages of explanatory text.
We are obviously more succinct today than we were in 1776.
Or have less to say.
But say it more often.
Yesterday, which was Canada Day, I biked to Oneida and then to Seymour for lunch. I biked home by way of the prison farm: No Entry. Police Called Immediately. The juxtaposition of American patriotism, one of the First Nations (as the Canadians say), and the prison farm on a single bike trip is proving to be intellectually confusing. It's so much easier to contemplate each topic represented as a distinct and (dare I use the word) independent issue.
But no one aspect of human society is unconnected to the others.
Although I can't quite say how those particular aspects tie together with each other. Or with Canada Day.
As an advance birthday present, I bought myself a new stove. The 28 year old stove just wasn't cutting it any more. The top was cracked and the perpetual pilot lights were energetically embarassing and my failure to spend any money was economically unproductive for the US. So now I have stimulated the economy, reduced my personal carbon footprint, created more waste, and have a nice looking stove. I feel very patriotic.
My washing machine immediately went on the fritz.
Could life be more confusing than being a 62 year old willfully unemployed bicycle riding philosopher with decaying appliances? If you think about actual reality too deeply, it takes all the fun out of pointless explosions and political bombast.
Then again, I was never that taken with pointless explosions.