Blessed Independence Day, U.S.A! What Is That Anyway?

each other

…Oh! It’s the Fourth of July. Let us know and share with our children, and those new to this land, the truth and the history of this day and how it started and why it stands. (I’ve included some interesting links at the end of this blog post.)


Another 4th of July celebration is upon us. Just remember, this is Independence Day…not just July 4th or 4th of July, or Fourth of July, etc. Remember in your hearts and prayers the men and women who gave their lives or livelihoods for us…and most importantly remember their families on this day.

Only after honoring them should we then celebrate our freedom. Not just over the years, but freedom from the initial hand that held us tightly… The caption under the below photo read something like: Shot in the head. Died on a lonely plain. I wonder what became of his family and if they ever got his body home.


old 4th

And we should bow our heads to, and thank them all so that we are free to display our pride. May the Eagle soar, and the most beautiful flag of any country on this Earth continue to fly, waving to all those that have given a life-gone-by.


I am grateful that my country, at this time, gives me the freedoms to do and say the things I want to, and often the things I should not. Despite the sometimes bigotry of my fellow Americans, I am free to practice my spiritual practices and the religion of my choosing. I can write books and stories about ghosts, tyrants, heroes, and even bash the government if it has done something I don’t like. I can work any job of my choosing that will hire me. I know I’ve said these things before. But I know or have encountered people who live(d) in other countries and I know what I have here. I am a proud and grateful U.S citizen. I am getting old and fat, but I would take up arms to defend this country today, just as I would have 20 years ago. I am not afraid to die for what I believe in. Whether that be my country or my religion, or my family.

My father, Walter, came here from Poland after WWII. The atrocities he saw at 16 as a soldier are something I can’t even imagine. Thanks to him, I am a first-generation Polish-American…a title I carry with pride. He taught me to appreciate simpler things like the fact that I can read, and the quiet and plenty in my life. He stoned me with his belief that one should only claim rewards and accolades if they worked for them. My mother, Edna, is from West Virginia. She grew up high in the mountains, poor and with nothing. During WWII, her mother fed them on “ration stamps”. She has given me the appreciation of saving money…and to be thankful for where that money comes from. My step-father, Louis, was a good man. He, like my father, was a WWII vet. He grew up in rural Texas and went into the military just in time. He taught me appreciation for the land and the animals from where our food comes. Thanks to him, I came to understand that there is something to love about where you are whether you like that place or not.

When I was in my early 20s, I met a Korean War veteran. He told me about some of the things that happened to him there as a POW. Really, I never thought another human being would stick bamboo shoots under the fingernails of another human just for fun. That alone is enough to make me want to punch walls…or vomit.

I respect a government that respects the human rights of non-Christians, non-heterosexuals, and non-Caucasians. Despite what our individual opinions are, our federal government says we all have rights. Now, if we all as individuals would respect that…we’d be better off. Here’s to freedom of speech, right to bear arms, the right to a religion of our choosing, the right to be homosexual…gay, lesbian, and any other title under the rainbow. I believe in the right of marriage equality and I am grateful to see state after state becoming tolerant of that, if not outright accepting. Here’s to the right to read a book, here’s to the right to drink beer, and the right to laugh out loud or talk to ourselves in public. Here’s to the rights of those who join employment unions and to those who hate unions…it’s our choice. And here’s to my right to express how much I do not like that Communist dick-tator,Vladimir Putin, and how badly I want his tyrant ass to leave Ukraine be. And, as U.S.-born citizen, I have the right to type here that I wish that if President Obama must be militarily involved any further world affairs, whether that be in an advisory or a military operational capacity, I wish he would stay out of Iraq…and go to Ukraine instead. *I pray for them.*

Now, for one day, let us quiet our dogmas and ring that damned Liberty Bell!

liberty bell

I will be forever sad for those who must go on without their loved ones who lost lives supporting the American way. And I thank them…I thank you. Whether those people fought in the American Revolution, or if they just came home, silent, from Iraq or Afghanistan. All these people, over several generations, have earned and maintained for me the resources to be happy. And on any given day, if I’ve had a bad day, or am having several bad years in a row; if I am ecstatic over a new job or if I’ve just bought a new pair of shoes…I am experiencing all of this because I worked for it with the help of those who bought American resources for me with their lives or health. Now, I long to see one more freedom…the rights of our military personnel and their families to be paid a wage becoming of what they do and what they give. For the health care of our military personnel to be above that of everyone else…excepting children…even before that of the any American president or congressperson. I want them to have adequate living quarters when they leave the military; they should have good pensions and not have to work at minimum wage jobs after fighting in a desert full of people who hate them and only looked to them as target practice. Really? These simple, simple things are a human right of any person that serves in a war for their country.

american soldiers

I have never been to any war. Yet, I cannot say that I will never see a war on my American soil. But I have trust in those who serve and protect and not just our military, but to police officers and firefighters and anyone else whose life at stake due to a job they do. It saddens me every day when I hear of a fire fighter losing his life trying to save someone who would not throw a penny at him for the job. I am heartbroken at the news of another police officer losing life to a thug who thought it was his right to rob, steal, batter or kill another because he felt like it or wanted the person’s cell phone. No, murder is one right we do not have, lest it is…in my opinion, to defend our own. We have no rights to murder another for the hell of it and to attempt to take what he worked for. This is not our right. This is no one’s right. And I appreciate the fact that there are people out there who are willing to defend my rights against that of some low-life thug who wants to poison our children with dope, or steal my car, or force women and children…even animals…to do things against their wills. Yes, they all get paid. Our taxes pay their salaries, but their taxes also pay their salaries. We do not own the police force, so shut your traps. So for those who believe we solely pay them to do a job: We do not pay them to die. Unfortunately, that is a misunderstanding regarding police officers, fire fighters, and military personnel world wide. So no matter where you live, respect these men and women, or never dare to call their name the day you need them. That would be a cowardly thing. If we are so brave…then let us shut our mealy mouths and go do their jobs. What?

Below photos regarding slain Chicago police officer, Clifton Lewis who was killed by a sorry human being.

chicago police car

chicago officer

This year, I have much to be grateful for on Independence Day. I have a new job. A job that I feel too inferior to have. But thanks to some military person in history, Illinois exists today, and I work for it and it’s citizens. Despite I have huge bills to pay, I am blessed. I am glad to be alive to have bills.

Also, go shake the hand of your American brothers and sisters in brotherhood. Welcome those legally new this land who work hard and pay taxes and wave our flag in front of their homes. If they worked for it, they own it.

If you see a member of our military today, shake their hand. Bring an apple pie over to the children of a military person who is far away. Say a friendly hello to a police officer instead of treating them with disrespect. And mostly, remember to say a prayer for our government tonight before you close your eyes to sleep.

Some people in other countries may think that U.S. Americans are the craziest asshats on the planet. But who cares? (Actually, they need to stop watching Girls Gone Wild in their spare time!) I mean, really, after all, the British are the ones who sent all the lunatics and criminals here early on. What did they expect?… Anyway… *cough* They’re just jealous that we have national parks, the state of Texas, a large Amish population, Jesse Jackson, Toby Keith, Harley Davidson, and the secret recipe to the Tootsie Roll. And guess what, World!, we’re keeping ALL that stuff. Yes, even Jesse.

Now that the serious reflection is over…let us go eat cakes decorated like the U.S. flag (as that’s the only proper way to eat a U.S. flag…otherwise one should not eat the flag.); let’s eat our American fare: cheeseburgers off the grill, barbecue ribs, macaroni and cheese, and of course, S’mores which are made using the “great American Chocolate bar” by Hershey. Let us chug down Cokes or Pepsis, lemonade and beer, and plenty of water – it’s only Lake Michigan for me.

Happy 4th of July, you fun-loving, Harley riding, flag waving…happy-just-for-the-day, mean-ass Americans (and all of you in-the-process-of-becoming-an-American mean-ass Americans)!… πŸ˜‰ I salute you, you gluttonous, littering, foul-mouth hooligan feigning-no-respect peoples of the USA.

May your God bless your hard-candied, soft-at-the-center hearts. I know you’re soft…I know you like to stick together in reality. I saw it happen when the Twin Towers fell, when New Orleans and later the East Coast were destroyed by water and wind; when the Boston Marathon was hijacked by two bags full of trash, and 20+ five-year-old children were gunned down by a coward. We do like each other. At least a little bit. And if we don’t, there’s always several versions of an old adage similar to: Fuck with mine and I’ll fuck with you. We might burn each others houses downs, but let some ass wipe try to come to our land and burn us down… Do not get us started, right America? We don’t want to have to put a “boot in your ass; it’s the American way.”

Happy birthday, U.S.A! You bunch of lazy asshats! πŸ˜‰ *hugs*


Here are some links:

The American Revolution (The History Place)

The American Revolution – Lighting Freedom’s Flame (National Park Service)


A Re-blog…For Veteran’s Day:

**I began writing this poem way back during Operation Desert Storm. It was finally completed in 2009. I leave the copyright at 2009 because the poem hasn’t been changed much since. I wrote it for the people and animals who’ve died in “wars” for us since our beginning. I always like to share it somewhere on Memorial Day, Independence Day, & Veterans Day.**Β  I hope you enjoy reading it. Someone once called this poem “profound.” I don’t know about that but I consider it the best piece I’ve ever written in my life…and the best piece I’ll ever write. I doubt I can ever top it. Nor do I want to.


American Flag Eagle




This work was written for every hero, past, present and future, of every state and nation:Β  “Strive to forgive me as I seek forgiveness; seek forgiveness as I strive to forgive, for we are all nothing if not humankind.”Β  ~Winter NightTiger


Some had an easy time, maybe even a good time; many had it insane.Β  But, they all went, never knowing for sure what consequences it might bring, and that makes them brave.




I wish only to hold your head in my hands

And tell you I am sorry that you were tortured on foreign lands.

But I am afraid to speak and I dare not touch your face,

For I fear you’ll look upon me with disgrace.

Young and beautiful heroes –

Defenders of a government’s cause –

Without questions,

Without pause.


Pardon me

For my naivety.

For I was not there to see;

Had I been, I’m sure I would have lost it all to insanity.

Hear my plea,

Pity me, forgive me, forgive me!


Europe, Korea, Vietnam, Somalia, Middle East, and in other places, not afar, but right here.


That’s where you’ll find their ghosts.

Ghosts of both the living and the dead,

Young and beautiful heroes,

Many Champions whom we have never seen.

People whom the Ass and the Elephant dare not look in the eye

Lest they display cowardice and for the grandest of excuses vie.


But, not I – I shall write in ode to you, to the freedom defenders, alive and dead

Who walked on many a foreign land,

Crossed many dark and watery seas,

Who, reluctantly or not, killed many a monster that, once dead, was just another man,

Like he, with unheard cries and pleas.

Oh, the things I wish to say; how they spin around in my head.


I dream of looking into your eyes,

Even as my American spirit slowly withers and dies,

For I can never be as you,

An American peoples’ Champion, true.


I recognize the heroes – I’ve seen some here, some there,

With their American spirits lost everywhere.

And then, they return to us,

Dead or living,

In boxes or for life, striving,

And the politicians only pretend to care

Because they know – hell, they’ll never ever have to go there.


So, here I am,

Sad that I cannot give you empathy

For I have not witnessed first hand

The vile acts of political man

Upon my young and beautiful heroes.


I am not even sure if I have a right to offer you sympathy,

So please forgive me,

For I cannot claim to understand

Your suffering and your woes.


I wish only to hold your head in my hands

And tell you I am sorry that you were tortured on foreign lands.

But I am afraid to speak and I dare not touch your face,

For I fear you’ll look upon me with disgrace.

I am humbled before you, Champions –

Young and beautiful heroes –

With biting souls

Wrecked with the poison of political scorpions.


Your pain could never be eased by another.

No, not by your father, mother, sister or brother, and certainly not by any lover.

Your eyes have seen a wild animal darkness,

That no other person’s sleeping mind would dare dream to harness.


Their wars become no good for anyone.

Once it is found that the crusade cannot be won –

They always leave you there then, with praise left undone,

And at just thirty, twenty-one, or as young as eighteen,

They asked you to behold things that, at any age, you should never have seen.


They leave behind the real defenders of the cause – taking with them their congressional bets.

The cowards leave you there, deep in the oceans, in stifling jungle-laden lands,

In strange desert countries strewn about their burning sands.

They leave you to die, young and beautiful heroes, without any damned regrets.


And, lest they be called failures,

They dare not turn to you a saving hand.

They leave you to your lunacy and wounds, without allowing any cares or cures.

They leave you there, burning, dreaming of easier days and helping hands.


I lived not through any wars,

But, I have shared in our government’s alleged reaped rewards.

They don’t feel to owe you a damned thing,

Even as in your head, sickening night terrors ring.


But, as – when just a child – my father fought,

I owe you everything.

However, I can offer you naught,

Save with my pen, your praises can I sing,

Through mediocre poetry –

writing being my single grace –

I attempt to offer you dignity,

As I dare imagine my hands touching your beautiful face.


You who will never be the same,

I am full of disdain

For the harbinger of your undeserved fate,

And I cry out for a cure to your pain.

It’s the only thing that might ease my hate

Lest I go guiltily insane

And end up myself at hell’s iron gate.


To the freedom defenders of now or then,

Those who risk their lives so people worldwide may live dictator free –

As our government has always claimed to us it should be –

Wherever you are, wherever you roam, wherever you die – I pray you’re not alone,

And for you, to the gods of warriors I beg for a safe return to your memories of home.


No matter how much time has passed us

Since your terrible war left you restless,

On my heart, you’ll forever be –

Young and beautiful heroes –

As I know that your night terrors

Will never see you free.


Do not be ashamed.

Keep your heads high.

Don’t take any blame,

For you have no reasons to deny

Your magnificent valor.


The one forgiveness sought here –

Outside of that between warriors –

Is the mercy that I seek from you

For the crimes of my country’s leaders.


The Ass and the Elephant owe you a debt –

One, shamefully –

They can never repay.

Forgive me, though, for the courage they lack.

And alas, to me you must make yet another promise,

Please come back,

And this time, say that you’ll stay.


I wish only to hold your head in my hands

And tell you I am sorry that you were tortured on foreign lands.

But I am afraid to speak and I dare not touch your face,

For I fear you’ll look upon me with disgrace.

Pardon me

For my naivety.

For I was not there to see;

Had I been, I’m sure I would have lost it all to insanity.

Hear my plea,

Pity me, forgive me, forgive me!


The way I remember and the way I know,

Is through television and history books.

This is how I seek young and beautiful heroes,

Of both today and yesteryear –

The freedom defenders who seemed to not fear,

And never knew what it took

Until they had already become history,

By another man’s quest of glory.


Defenders of the cause, I must share –

Courage is not the absence of fear,

It is but the conquest of it.

You are true glory,

Armed with many a mighty story –

Young and beautiful heroes

Of today, of yesterday,

Of every day

And I would never deny it.


Whether you are dead,

Or still yet cursed with nightmares in your head,

Whether you trudged across frozen Europe,

Or you met with torture in Korea,

Whether you sat in silent madness in the land of the Vietnamese,

Or crawled through the desert sands of Iraq –

You are beautiful heroes.

No matter what they say,

You are the Champions of our way.


Your childhood will forever remain

Somewhere far away – left behind –

Carrying on somewhere out there without you, left lame.

Your youth and beauty, and maybe even your mind,

Is where you abandoned the child

To become a person of class, rank and file.


And while there will always be some in denial,

There are those of us who shall never put you on trial.

There is no need for you to tell me –

Lest it helps to ease your pain and dread –

But only you can help me to see

What it is that lies deep in your head.


I wish I could ease your heart,

But I don’t know where to start.

I know that no words I could ever say,

Could hold your beast at bay.


Pardon me

For my naivety.

For I was not there to see;

Had I been, I’m sure I would have lost it all to insanity.

Hear my plea,

Pity me, forgive me, forgive me!

Young and beautiful heroes –

Defenders of a government’s cause –

Without questions,

Without pause.


I wish only to hold your head in my hands

And tell you I am sorry you were tortured on foreign lands.

But I dare not touch your face,

For I fear you’ll look upon me with disgrace.

Europe, Korea, Vietnam, Somalia, Middle East, and in other places, not afar, but right here.


That’s where you will find your ghosts…


Young and beautiful.

Copyright 2009 Wanda S. Paryla