My father told me "Son it's futile to resist. You can topple the ideology but not the armies they enlist." I questioned the intentions of the boy scouts chanting "WAR!" "Well, that's the sound of freedom, son", he said (free to say no more). But wait a minute "dad", did you actually say freedom? Well, if you're dumb enough to vote, you're fucking dumb enough to believe them. Because if this country is so goddamned free, then I can burn your fucking flag wherever I damn well please. I carried their anthem convinced it was mine. Rhymeless, unreasoned conjecture kept me in line. But then I stood back and wondered what the fuck they had done to me. Made accomplice to all that I promised I would never be. You carry their anthem, convinced that it's yours. Invitation to honour. Invitation to war. Bette Midler now assumes sainthood. Romanticize murder for morale. Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree my friend and "Gee, Wally. That's swell!" Fuck the troops (Insert corny but relevant/ poignant catch phrase here).
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