The True Meaning of The Fourth of July

The True Meaning of The Fourth of July

----A patriotic essay by me, who is one-half American.

It pains me that in an era when information has never been so readily available, many people remain ignorant of history, and indeed know little about why Americans commemorate this day every year with small-scale explosives and mediocre beer.

Allow me to help there.

In the 18th century there was one superpower in the world: the 13 colonies. Being a superpower, they were constantly harassed by the most evil nation in the history of the world, England.

The English ran concentration camps all along the east coast, from Maine in the south to Florida in the north, killing babies and roasting puppies to eat with their crumpets (a form of haggis taco) and tea, which they colloquially called Snapple.

One day, knowing how Americans love throwing tea into large bodies of water, the English decided on a dick move, so they put a tax on all tea thrown into Boston Harbor, making a group of male Southie citizens who were not very good in bed (thus they were dubbed “Minute Men”) led by the guy off the Boston Lager bottle, decide to throw tea in Boston Harbor and not pay taxes on it, so they did. (The Sox weren’t playing that time of year and they didn’t have a lot going on.)

Well, this angered the English, obvs, so during Prime Minister’s Questions Margaret Thatcher called up the army and RAF and started bombing California, where Pearl Harbor is, on December 7, 1941, and on purpose like it showed when Meryl Streep played her, she sank the Lusitania, which had Americans on board, and so Ben Franklin, this brilliant bald guy who liked to fly kites in thunderstorms, said we can’t have this, we need to fight, it’s common sense. He made Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton quit pointing pistols at each other and go shoot some freakin’ Limies for a change, and both won the Medal of Honor and had free grog at taverns across the 13 colonies for the rest of their lives, til eventually Hamilton shot Burr for saying he had a thing with his daughter.

Well at first the English won a lot of battles, like Stalingrad and Yorktown and Big Round Top (where Dolly Parton was born) and they burned the White House in 1912 but George Washington killed Napoleon at Waterloo and that turned the tide when the English retreated to Dunkirk, Indonesia in 1840.

So on D-Day, June 6, 1944, George Washington tied rags around his feet and walked across Delaware in the freezing cold, and captured Queen Victoria while Sir Walter O’Reilly (traitor to Ireland, apparently judging by his last name) was washing his coat in a mud puddle and the Queen, hating all Irish, natch, walked on it, so wasn’t watching her back and Washington grabbed her. She was NOT amused, either.

Well George Washington captured her like I said and they had a fight, he bit her with his wooden teeth, and since all demons are vulnerable to wood, the Queen died and her ancestor Henry VIII came to throne, after the Battle of Hastings, Italy, and all he cared about was serial killing his wives, so he wanted to end the war by making a present to George Washington of a tent made of gold, plus Texas, which Washington didn’t want, but Cromwell killed Henry by having his head cut off because Cromwell loved war and atrocities, and that’s why he’s in Hell with Judas now. (That’s a fact I learned from my summers in Ireland.)

Then the English got a king who was less war-like, George XIII, who had poor eyesight and may have been a vampire, and that’s why he needed everything signed big, like all the flame mail John Handcock sent him. (Please don’t laugh at John’s name.) “Dear King ur last post skd u are lame & dnt no jack bout running the world what wrong with u hope u die u awad. FU, John Handcock.”

That burned the king up.

Lord Byron joined the war effort about this time and died from grease in a military camp, but that’s maybe an obscure reference, so let’s move on….

Well the 13 colonies totally won and they had a war crimes trial in Washington DC, which hadn’t been built yet, and hanged Jack the Ripper at Nuremburger, which is where hamburgers were invented, and then they dropped an A-bomb on London from Thomas Jefferson’s plane called I Know A Gay, and then the English surrendered but kept fighting in the Mekong Delta where Americans got a peace movement going in the summer of Love, sticking flower in their flintlocks and machine guns and so the war stopped til Hitler was born in Australia.

In one final low blow the English punished the colonies in the 2000s with the last two seasons of Skins, where the least irritating character was Mini, if that says anything, and even she hurts your brain when she talks in her fake West Country accent: “…yuh, Alo, wanna gobsmack me coddles, shame about Grace having that axudint, think I’ll waste Ellie’s time making ‘er watch those las’ episoodes, yuck yuck yuck…”

But the thing to take away from all this is now our two countries are friends and we do the Fourth of July to show we all love beer and blowing s**t up, and friendship is way better, so England, we love you and don’t worry about those death camps and Colonial dead babies, (I saw the documentary of British troops burning Heather Ledger's girlfriend in that church) it’s all good, plus we’re very sorry for Thomas Jefferson bombing London and then pillowing Sally Hemming after, so please stop with the rumor that George Washington gave Queen Mary an STD, when he used protection.

Happy Fourth, everyone!!!!!