What exactly is patriotism?

As we near the day of America’s  decree of independence from a monarch who’d lost his mind and spent most of his  day running amok in his birthday suit around his  Royal crib, the smug Mussolini -like arrogance of U.S. citizens  who deem themselves American patriots raises its low, ugly brow.

These boobs assume patriotism means displaying a flag pin on the lapel of suit that would cost most of us a monthly house payment just to hem the cuffs. They play so-called patriotic music that blares simplified nationalism touting America’s grace with God. Most of this crap stirs images of warriors marching into sovereign nations with resources we need to keep our lights on and our houses warm. It inspires our mission to shove our dysfunctional lifestyles down the throats of people who never asked for it and frankly don’t want it.  They know we’re there to rip them off and are pissed that we won’t admit it.

All this is done in the name of protecting America from its sworn enemies, people who for the most part despise our intervention in their affairs, though none of them have the missiles or might to do anything but make improvised explosive devices that grind our troops into torn hunks of what used to be a human body.

Most of these patriotism -bellowing chicken hawks never go off to war. They get deferments, or college degrees, or suck their parent’s retirement funds down the funnel and into their own selfish tanks. If you’re within the age requirements to join the armed forces but don’t sign up, even though you support the war and the effort of someone else’s son to go off and do the fighting for you, you’re a coward and a hypocrite.

And a chicken hawk.

A true patriot is someone who does what’s best for his country even though it costs him his prestige, position, and livelihood. He steps up to defend his nation from aggression, not with his open mouth but with his fists and his fortitude. He puts his life on the line, and his career, to do what he must do for the rest of us to be free, not for his own promotion or fortune.

Pat Tillman comes to mind. He sacked his pro football career to go off and fight in Afghanistan, only to be betrayed by the military and the government he dutifully respected. Both lied about his death for their own self serving immorality. But even in death, Pat Tillman no doubt brushed that dirt off his shoulder. He wasn’t there for glory and fame. He heeded the call of the patriot and served selflessly.

Something the billionaires who make their living off this slaughterhouse dripping in potential oil revenues might want to think about as they board the profit express.

But don‘t count on it. These people aren’t patriots. They’re traitors. And they giggle, all the way to the bank.