The real America

It ain’t what the idiots to the south of me in Washington project it as being. Bill Kauffman allays my hesitance to celebrate the Fourth of July at Counterpunch with a fine piece, “My America vs. The Empire”. What I excerpt here says it all, as far as I’m concerned.

There are two Americas: the televised America, known and hated by the world, and the rest of us. The former is a factitious creation whose strange gods include “Sex and the City,” accentless TV anchorpeople, Dick Cheney, Rosie O’Donnell, “Friends,” and the Department of Homeland Security. It is real enough–cross it and you’ll learn more than you want to know about weapons of mass destruction–but it has no heart, no soul, no connection to the thousand and one real Americas that produced Zora Neale Hurston and Jack Kerouac and Saint Dorothy Day and the Mighty Casey who has struck out.

I am of the other America, the unseen America, the America undreamt of by the foreigners who hate my country without knowing a single thing about it. Ours is a land of volunteer fire departments, of baseball, of wizened spinsters who instead of sitting around whining about their goddamned osteoporosis write and self-publish books on the histories of their little towns, of the farmwives and grain merchants and parsons and drunkards who made their places live.

Despite having too many books awaiting my picking them up already, I feel as if, now, I need to purchase some of Kauffman’s works, something I long ago ought to have done.

Many thanks to Patrick Ford, who, eliciting envy from me, occasionally posts at @TAC and serves as editor-in-chief of the George Washington Patriot

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One Response

  1. […] part of the “televised America”, Mr. Carell seems to have a wonderful sense of the real American. Good for […]

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