Happy Fourth of July America!
May your fireworks be loud enough to drown out the push notifications.
Roughly 250 years ago, a handful of tax-weary gentlemen with excellent quills and questionable wigs announced they were done with hereditary crowns, mandatory tithes to the wrong monarch, and surprise inquisitions upon the religious diaspora.
Contrary to legend, it wasn’t just over tea. That was merely the colonial equivalent of subtweeting: petty, performative, and somehow historically immortal.
For the sake of a catchy tune, Paul Revere became the Beyoncé of midnight horsemanship despite getting detained by British Coppers, while Dr. Samuel Prescott—who actually finished the ride—remains history’s greatest disappearing act.
Financiers of distinguished lineage and flexible ethics have spent centuries treating the Hamiltonian system like a stubborn subscription they can’t quite cancel—deploying everyone from courteous duelists such as Burr to Jekyll Island serpents to keep compound interest under aristocratic management.
The Experiment
Meanwhile, persecuted Christian sects crossed an ocean to practice their faith in harmony, promptly forming committees to disagree about absolutely everything in blessed plurality. Result: one very large tent with more denominations than a cash register. Muslims were, however, still trying to take over Spain and claim North Africa was never Christian before their arrival.
Then came Hollywood, that noble experiment in converting gossip into governance. Having abolished kings, we invented celebrities—democracy’s glittering substitute—sold as “escapism,” delivered as nonstop instruction on what to buy while ignoring the defense of liberty.
In an era when most people just want a nap, a fair bill, and coffee that isn’t a second mortgage, a select cohort of explosively wealthy brand ambassadors keeps discovering bold new ways to convert freedom into a subscription tier.
As the quarter-millennial confetti falls, be pleased we’re still here, if slightly singed around the edges. Remember the people who paid in more than hashtags, and note that history’s “final boss” tends to respawn.
So, yes: resist the charming pickpockets of mind, body, and soul—the ones who tax by stealth, title by fine print, and invoice your dignity in quarterly installments.
Honor the stubborn troublemakers who called tyranny by its name, and keep your dictionary handy.
Celebrate with family, grill something questionably patriotic, and keep one eye on the sky and the other on the terms and conditions. If we do this right, our descendants will inherit more than fireworks and a backlog of streaming shows they’ll never finish with friends. Remain ever vigilant so our descendants will have something to celebrate, and hopefully not inherit any new kings.
