This Time is the Last Time?

WWH – I am a patriot only because in a democracy, dissent is a form of patriotism, and I am a person who dissents from many of our established policies, both foreign and domestic. So if there is such a thing as a dissident patriot, it’s me. I will admit that sometimes I wish I were doing my dissenting from some tropical isle totally off the grid and somehow invisible to Google earth and all GPS satellites. But that’ll never happen!

We would not have been celebrating Independence Day if there had been no courageous dissenters, and enough of them, to show their dissent actively… through writing, music, speaking, rallying, boycotting, and unfortunately, violence. After the Revolution, our founding fathers created for us a basic creed and the general principles to which we should adhere. I like to think that, if I lived back then, any dissidence I elected to express, would, within my lifetime, be declared “patriotic.”

If patriotism is “love of country” must it be an unconditional love like that of a parent for a child? Or can it be a “love-hate” relationship? I seem to have a “fondness-disappointment” relationship with my country. It is certainly not unconditional. We have a “Patriot Act” which I interpret to mean “if you love your country you will do as you are told and let the government invade your life as it sees fit. I thought that being patriotic meant the freedom to criticize in hopes of changing our country into one of which I could really be proud. To me patriotism springs from the freedom to dissent without fear of retaliation.

I live in the United States, and for those of you who would like me to “love it or leave it,” I tell you right now I am not in a position to leave. If you really want to see me leave, I will get a PayPal account and you can send your contributions there. Until then, I’m going to do my damndest to make sure I get to live the remainder of my life with as little stress as possible. And it really, really stresses me out when I don’t get to see people living as comfortably as I do. I have a roof over my head. Heat. Air-conditioning. Food on the table. Not too good in the health care department, but all in all, I’ve got it pretty good.

It really, really stresses me out when I hear or see acts of hate; a vet sleeping next to a dumpster; the rich getting richer… which is fine by me as long as the poor get richer too. God, I used to hear my mom say that all the time. “The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.” She was right. She said it for as long as I can remember, so I suspect she said it long before I was born. And she must’ve picked it up from her mother or father, who picked it up from their parents. So how long has this been going on? We know now it’s been going on since… well… the beginning. But now, the consequences of it are in our face.

It really, really stresses me out that so many young men and women are fighting foreign wars they may not truly understand, and those that do return are going to be tormented people who will torment our already inadequate health and social services. These walking wounded will torment us because once everyone understands our true nature of cooperation and connectedness, they will feel the guilt of ever having sent a soldier to die unnecessarily, or return, never to be the same woman or man they were before.

It torments me to think of the soldiers who fly the drones. Do they all cheer in their little safe offices as they operate those penile devices and hit their targets in six different countries? The civilian “collateral damage” is to be expected. Expected? This rattles my brain and I feel sorry for those who sit at the controls from some comfortable desk chair. They, too, will eventually be tormented.

Is it no wonder then that I am stressed? What a way to spend the Independence Day Holiday! So excuse me for dissenting poverty, the lack of health care, sexism, racism, homophobia, intolerance, and WAR!

I have never in all my life felt patriotic for being born in this country. I was simply born here. I had nothing to do with it. I have never felt patriotic when I went for a Sunday drive as a kid to look at mansions in the New Jersey countryside. They were pretty to look at. That’s all. I never wanted to live in one. I never thought about it. I never felt patriotic when I heard patriotic music. As I became more politically aware, my ears turned inside out at the sound of a marching band. I never felt patriotic when singing the Star Spangled Banner or pledging allegiance to the flag. And I believe I would feel the same regardless of which national anthem I would be expected to sing or to which flag might demand my allegiance.

When I looked at flags of the world in the encyclopedia, I always thought the ones that were red, white and blue were really in poor taste. There’s just something about those primary colors that just don’t do it for me. Colors of different hues, minimalism, and a sense of real design… now those are my kind of flags. But you see a flag I might admire aesthetically might be the one representing some despotic regime. Never judge a book by its cover! So there’s no sense in being patriotic over a flag! You might ask then, when do I feel patriotic?

I feel patriotic when we come to the aid of another nation which suffered a great disaster. I feel patriotic when we prevent malaria and the spread of HIV. I feel patriotic when we make great strides in science or build an amazing public works project. I feel patriotic when we save a stream, an injured animal; find a loving home for an orphan. I feel patriotic when someone extends a helping hand. I feel patriotic when there is true justice.

To me, patriotism resides in the things for which a nation stands. And once having taken that stance does something about it. The patriotism we as a nation exude at this time of year is one more akin to nationalism, chauvinism, jingoism… all the isms that will continue to separate us rather than join us together as one world; one mind.

One thing the USA does exceptionally well is to put on a show. No one puts on a show like us, especially when the government recruits Hollywood and Broadway. There is no better way to spread propaganda than through entertainment.

Be patriotic for the right things, not because we have been deluged with propaganda since we were born. Enjoy this 1943 song, “This Time” from the show “This Is the Army.” Understand the times were different, and perhaps this propaganda was necessary. But at the same time, in this example of patriotism = propaganda, listen carefully to the words. We didn’t get it right the first time, so this time will be the last time so we’ll never have to do it again? Here is the government-“drafted” Irving Berlin at his patriotic best.

This clip does not make me feel patriotic. But considering our world today, the irony of it is perfect. In contrast, just four years later, the musical South Pacific hit the Broadway stage. There was one song the producers wanted to cut from the show because they feared anything critical of US policy at the time would bring undesirable consequences. Rodgers and Hammerstein gave them an ultimatum. Either the song stayed in the show or they would quit. They exercised their freedom to criticize and educate. They dissented against the existing policies of the time.

This, to me, is a song of true patriotism. Therefore I pledge my allegiance to the principles of peace, love, equality, and respect for the earth. Long may we, the people, wave. And long may we exercise our right to dissent because, in a true democracy, it is the purest form of patriotism.

To contact Phil or find out more: check out his website and blog For a copy of HUNGA DUNGA
Phil Polizatto – Worldwide Hippies Bureau Chief – West Coast USA, is a graduate of The School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University. He was a feature writer for the overseas division of UPI, a copywriter for CBS, and an award-winning corporate film producer. Mr. Polizatto is a published poet and a regular contributor to Worldwide Hippies as well as a variety of other arts and literary journals. Hunga Dunga is his first published novel. He resides in the Pacific Northwest.