O, Beautiful...
To Yanks the world over, Happy 4th!
It's a luscious morning here in the place where it all began -- high 60s, low humidity.... pure heaven. That's saying much; July in Philly is usually a hazy, hot, humid hell.
Thankfully, the news cycle has been slow, but an hour's talk time this morning has still done its service to remind me of how wacky the rumor mill can get. The boozing at 4th July barbeques doesn't help the cause at all.
As an aside, I've had a couple thoughts in mind about how, despite the seeming dissimilarities, America and Catholicism share one glaring thread -- both have a very forward self-image as being the unique beneficiaries of divine election and favor. But the question such a plateau presents says even more: What to do with that? Do you lord it over the rest or use such a perceived height for the good of all? What about the responsibility that comes with power?
It's the response which separates the wheat from the chaff.
Admittedly, Live 8 got me to thinking about this. A concert to raise awareness about African poverty, and the celebs came away with $4,000 each in gift bags? Leads one to wonder. For the curious, I'm kicking myself that I wasn't there -- for the sole reason that Naomi Watts was in town. She can have a gift bag, and then some. Oh. My. Goddess....
The terna these days is Aussie-dominated.... And I'm confessing this on the 4th? Hmm. Pell can have his Spice Girls; I'm all about the real thing.
Regardless, expats, whether the day finds you in Rome, Dhaka or Dublin, raise a glass of whatever you can find and set off some fireworks. Much as I love this country, in the spirit of a conscious patriotism, I'm compelled to close with a worthy verse from Morrissey:
In America, The land of the free, they said/
And of opportunity/
In a just and a truthful way
But where the president/
Is never black, female or gay/
And until that day, You've got nothing to say to me/
To help me believe....
A happy and safe 4th to all!
-30-
It's a luscious morning here in the place where it all began -- high 60s, low humidity.... pure heaven. That's saying much; July in Philly is usually a hazy, hot, humid hell.
Thankfully, the news cycle has been slow, but an hour's talk time this morning has still done its service to remind me of how wacky the rumor mill can get. The boozing at 4th July barbeques doesn't help the cause at all.
As an aside, I've had a couple thoughts in mind about how, despite the seeming dissimilarities, America and Catholicism share one glaring thread -- both have a very forward self-image as being the unique beneficiaries of divine election and favor. But the question such a plateau presents says even more: What to do with that? Do you lord it over the rest or use such a perceived height for the good of all? What about the responsibility that comes with power?
It's the response which separates the wheat from the chaff.
Admittedly, Live 8 got me to thinking about this. A concert to raise awareness about African poverty, and the celebs came away with $4,000 each in gift bags? Leads one to wonder. For the curious, I'm kicking myself that I wasn't there -- for the sole reason that Naomi Watts was in town. She can have a gift bag, and then some. Oh. My. Goddess....
The terna these days is Aussie-dominated.... And I'm confessing this on the 4th? Hmm. Pell can have his Spice Girls; I'm all about the real thing.
Regardless, expats, whether the day finds you in Rome, Dhaka or Dublin, raise a glass of whatever you can find and set off some fireworks. Much as I love this country, in the spirit of a conscious patriotism, I'm compelled to close with a worthy verse from Morrissey:
In America, The land of the free, they said/
And of opportunity/
In a just and a truthful way
But where the president/
Is never black, female or gay/
And until that day, You've got nothing to say to me/
To help me believe....
A happy and safe 4th to all!
-30-
posted by Rocco Palmo at 09:42
1 Comments:
I'd listen to Morrissey if he were black and female.
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