Irony, thy name is patriot.

Before 9/11, our nation's freshest emotional scar and now the latest shorthand for everything that threatens and undermines "the American Way", I had a lot more patriotic feelings. And since I was a kid I've always loved the flag as a graphic representation of this country and it's ideals. My brother and I had matching flag Speedos. Loved it, loved matching my brother. It was my favorite suit ever, with the added oddity of having left strange dark tan lines that temporarily worried our pediatrician. Not much SPF in white nylon apparently. Immediately before 9/11, I was actually thinking I might buy an honest-to-gosh American flag to put out. Not one of the cheesy nylon made-in-Taiwan things you see everywhere, which always screamed irony to me, but an actual US-made, natural fiber real deal (ok, maybe a little smaller, but still). Then, the towers fell. I'm not gonna lie. I couldn't really process it right away. I watched the second one go down live on TV. I listened to my brother do a little freak out on the phone about driving down for our planned backpacking trip. I told him that staying home would not solve or change anything. We went on our little overnight. There were too many bugs to enjoy it for longer, but we had a pretty good time, it was fun in the end. There was not a plane that flew overhead. It was only a little odd at the time. It's more eery thinking about it all these years later.

But what really irked me in those days (still does) was the instantaneous plasti-patriotism. It wasn't me though. It was everyone else. All of a sudden flags were everywhere, like the when a local team wins the Superbowl/World Series. But we hadn't won anything. We'd lost something. A big something. And I don't mean buildings or planes. We couldn't comprehend what we'd actually lost. And there was so much more to lose in the ensuing years. Vengeance was the easiest and most accessible emotion. I indulged in it. Absolutely. But, suddenly, what I couldn't indulge in was the graphic display of reactionary jingoism. I get it, I get it. People must rally and heal and do the national group hug (I still cannot bring myself to watch United 93. The personal, individual horror, outside all the nationalistic blah-blah is too much. I get emotional). Yeah, yeah.

But where were all those people before? Where had they all been as "Fair Trade", the WTO, Walmart and cheaper and cheaper goods undermined our wages, our economy, our standard of living, our national sovereignty? Kennedy Democrats and military Republicans had always been flying mostly cheapo American flags—many looking shamefully battered, I was always disappointed to see. Everybody else back then was like—meh! Did I wish that there were wall-to-wall stars and stripes as far as the eye could see? Nope. Was I annoyed and disappointed by the opportunistic and sudden display of synthetic Americana sprouting like so many cheap car lot commercials everywhere I looked? Yeah. I was. Still am. Yay, Lakers! Yeah, Raiders! Eff yeah, USA! Does that make me ashamed to be an American? Of course not; not only is that idea offensive but is facile and ignorant. It just makes me wanna slap my fellow citizens around for their tardy reactionary displays and grotesque personal choices.

BTW, do I see all these latter-day patriots at the polls, or writing to their representatives (do they even know who they are?)? Do I see them at the recruiting office? Or see them urging their kids to serve? Not too many…though they do seem to be over-represented among the ranks of those who stumble over themselves to "appreciate" others' service (a special sentiment to all who would accuse anyone else of not "loving their country" or impugning anyone else's patriotism, if you have never served—or made the honest attempt and been rejected—especially when you were young and had those choices to make: Shut the F up). Is there a dissonance here? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm just past tired of hearing the flapping jaws of presumption. And it's invariably over descent. It brings out the worst in chicken hawks, neocons and now Republican former hippies. Real convenient by the time you're middle aged or older. Like St Augustine: it was all good while he was debauching his way across the landscape. But now that he's had his fun, he's seen the light. And he says, do what I say and not what I do. Just like your mother. Only none of you but one is my mother. Mom gets a free pass, mostly 'cause I'm pretty sure I'd win any debauchery contest between us. But I could be wrong.

But I digress. Back to tragedy-induced gratuitous flag-waving.

It's very much like the treacly old sentiments about not appreciating what you have until after tragedy strikes. That is us. En masse. But the way many apparently decided to show their solidarity was to fly a bunch of tacky plastic Chinese-made flags. I don't remember seeing a single dignified, natural looking textile Old Glory anywhere that wasn't there beforehand. I gave up the idea of putting a nice one up myself out of personal protest and disgust. Of course, no one will "see" this unless they read it here or have had this conversation with me before, and not many have. Though I feel stirrings now and again—the design and emotional symbolism do pull—it still may still be years more before I can again think of displaying a proper flag. Who knows. By then, there may not be much to celebrate at the rate we're currently going. After all, last survey I saw, a majority of Americans randomly polled on the contents of the Bill of Rights, thought it was a bad idea. Go USA. While we're at it, why not let the government into your bedroom, blood and bank account? You don't have anything to hide, do you? Oops! Too late. After more than two centuries we can't even keep our few basic tenants straight much less react to current events or see our own need for reading glasses. It's far easier to just fly a piece of cheap plastic crap at our doorstep. Soooo much easier. I guess that's what passes for American solidarity anymore. It is easier than the alternatives. Like proactive thinking about actions and consequences. Being part of the solution instead of the problem, and on and on.

Jingoism does not equal patriotism anymore than idol worship equals romantic love. Do not presume that I am not a proud American because you cannot tell the difference. Descent is still the most American of all ideals. And fifty falling buildings will not change that.