Well, huh—Independence Day, commemorating the 13 colonies along the Atlantic seaboard driving a stake in the ground and proclaiming we were done with monarchs. That was in 1776; it took seven years of warfare and a huge boost from the French to make good on that bold declaration, but it held for 248 years—with that little blip between 1861 and 1865.
However,
SCOTUS has ruled that presidents whose surnames begin with T and end in P are,
in effect, above the law, and immune from prosecution for “official acts”. They’re
open to including breaches of national security, incitement to insurrection,
impeding the peaceful transfer of power and unparalleled corruption as “official
acts”.
Again,
if you have that magic surname. All others need not apply.
So
I’m not feeling like celebrating today.
Instead
I’m watching the expected Tory bloodbath in today’s election in Britain, as their
economic and social “policies” finally come home to roost. With any luck, Nigel
Farage will take an electoral as well as literal milkshaking, although he’s
running in Clacton, so he has a chance of finally getting to Westminster.
I’m also seeking out beauty, no matter how small.
©2024 Bas Bleu
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