What you’ve written is truth wrapped in flame—lament, indictment, and devotion all at once. I read it not with anger, but with the ache of someone who’s walked the long corridors of this country’s promise and found too many rooms empty, too many doors locked from the inside.
You are right: this is not a birthday—it’s a wake.
Not a jubilee—but a reckoning.
And if there is to be any song, let it be sung in a minor key, to the memory of all we failed to become.
Because this isn’t just grief—it’s guilt.
The guilt of a generation who watched the house catch fire and called it fireworks.
The guilt of a people who, given history’s greatest experiment in self-government, now hand it over to tyrants in red hats and judges in robes who no longer blush.
It is our shame that the light we inherited—the one bled for at Valley Forge and Normandy and Selma and Stonewall—has been dimmed not by foreign saboteurs, but by neighbors too enchanted with grievance and too drunk on spectacle to notice they are cheering the arsonists.
We are witnessing not a failure of policy but a failure of moral imagination.
We have let the petty men win.
We have let the liars set the narrative.
We have let the frightened define the future.
But still…
Still—I believe in the ghost of what this country was meant to be.
I believe in the quiet people who show up anyway. Who feed their neighbors. Who teach. Who resist. Who sit vigil for decency.
As James Baldwin once wrote, “I love America more than any other country in the world and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
So no—I won’t salute their blasphemy with my silence.
And I won’t trade the dream for the death cult.
I will light no firework—but I will keep the flame.
And when the charlatans finally burn out—when the dust settles and the tyrants fall—I’ll be here. We’ll be here.
With memory. With love. With work.
Let them have their hollow anthem.
Ours will be the song that rebuilds the nation.
Until freedom truly rings—for all—we will ring the alarm.
Dino, one ever knows who might be spurred to action. FWIW, your stunning wordsmithing has warmed this ancient woman’s heart. Have a fabulous Independence Day.
You may share what I wrote, yes, however, I can’t speak for John. My comment—without John’s anchoring piece—might make mine more opaque or incomplete. But you may share my writing.
Saturday is the beach clean up. I'll be doing that. I asked the city to put up barriers to protect an osprey nest with babies located near the beach...and they have! Trying to make a good difference if I can.
The most wondrous energy source in the world is “Empathy+Action”. It’s “Clean Energy” at its finest. The more we practice it, the more we give oxygen to a flame of humanity musk and trump and their wannabes would extinguish to satisfy their diseased egos. I’m leaving to volunteer at Feeding America, as have for ten years. It has seen an 88% rise in need since this June 1, 2025. Like you, Joyce M. Shaw, I’m keeping my shoulder to the wheel trying to make a good difference. It’s an anecdote to despair, and puts me in great company with others refusing to give-up.
“It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Nor will I. The American flag has not been flown by me for quite some time. I feel it's been hijacked by evangelical Christians and far right conservatives.
I will honor my forefathers who fought in the Revolutionary War. I will not salute the soulless Congress and Judiciary who promote a convicted felon in the White House.
It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to endure the neighbors’ noisy firecrackers and fireworks that are legal in backyards in Georgia, but this year there is little left of our democracy to celebrate as we have fallen off the cliff into a fascist autocracy led by a demented, evil, cruel madman whose puppet strings are controlled by evil, cruel creatures driven by greed and power.
Nevertheless, we will…we must continue to resist the darkness as we persist in our efforts to restore our precious democracy.
Me too but I will fly it upside down on a flagpole outside, along with a sign or two about the sacrifices made by the men and women who have fought to preserve our democracy. I have a Betsy Ross flag too to remind people of our country's origins. I think some MAGAs and January sixers have defiled that flag too but it doesn't belong to them.
Please do not despair. We, your loving Substack congregation need you to keep the faith. I have Hope. True unrepentant HOPE. People speak of hope as if she is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider webs. It is not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the pavement in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another fight. And still I rise.
I’ve had a sense of impending doom for the past week or so. I thought it was my birthday earlier this week, I turned 60. I have multiple sclerosis and I’m on disability. I’m worried about death. I’m not afraid of the hereafter, by no means does that scare me. I’m thinking about how much I want to see my grandchildren grow up with me in their lives, not watching from afar.
I guess it’s possible that I’m more worried about living in the hell that is now.
I have the privilege of doing volunteer work coaching USAID employees. Their last day was the 31st, although many were furloughed a few months earlier. The grieving is incomprehensible, as not only has this meant a loss of often decades long, mission driven service, but the impossibility of comprehending the reality that a 19 year old "Big Balls," was able to decimate data, history, documentation of decades service, and more, in one act of defiance. The mind cannot reason or find meaning in warehouses filled with paste to feed malnourished children, medications to prevent and treat HIV, left undistributed. The mind cannot comprehend an ignorance which resists understanding of the need for outreach, humanity, diplomacy, and the influence of soft power in establishing trust and goodwill in the world. When my client yesterday said, "I don't know who I am as an American anymore." I felt and resonated with the disequilibrium caused by this dystopian moment in our country, and in the world.
Holy cow that was powerful. Tomorrow we will be buying 2 bags of pet food and dropping it off at the local shelter instead of doing that whole fireworks thing. It scares the dogs and, like John says, it’s year it’s a farce anyway.
This year, I am grieving the death of a nation that once valued liberty and justice for all, respect for the dignity of every human being, fair distribution of the burdens and benefits of self rule, the freedom to choose one’s path and providing opportunities and resources for people to do so, An empathy for the most vulnerable people of the nation in the world.
Actually, Dr. Johnson turned out to be only partially correct; these days, patriotism is usually accompanied by childish taunts and name-calling. A few minutes on almost any social-media site will prove this beyond the merest shadow of a doubt.
Thanks, John. I find no sense of celebration for tomorrow. I will continue protesting this fascist administration, joining hands and love for this country with others, until the fascists are gone and we can begin the slow, arduous process of rebuilding. I do believe it will happen and I hope I’m still around to celebrate our return to the bright beacon the the rest of the free world looks to.
What you’ve written is truth wrapped in flame—lament, indictment, and devotion all at once. I read it not with anger, but with the ache of someone who’s walked the long corridors of this country’s promise and found too many rooms empty, too many doors locked from the inside.
You are right: this is not a birthday—it’s a wake.
Not a jubilee—but a reckoning.
And if there is to be any song, let it be sung in a minor key, to the memory of all we failed to become.
Because this isn’t just grief—it’s guilt.
The guilt of a generation who watched the house catch fire and called it fireworks.
The guilt of a people who, given history’s greatest experiment in self-government, now hand it over to tyrants in red hats and judges in robes who no longer blush.
It is our shame that the light we inherited—the one bled for at Valley Forge and Normandy and Selma and Stonewall—has been dimmed not by foreign saboteurs, but by neighbors too enchanted with grievance and too drunk on spectacle to notice they are cheering the arsonists.
We are witnessing not a failure of policy but a failure of moral imagination.
We have let the petty men win.
We have let the liars set the narrative.
We have let the frightened define the future.
But still…
Still—I believe in the ghost of what this country was meant to be.
I believe in the quiet people who show up anyway. Who feed their neighbors. Who teach. Who resist. Who sit vigil for decency.
As James Baldwin once wrote, “I love America more than any other country in the world and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
So no—I won’t salute their blasphemy with my silence.
And I won’t trade the dream for the death cult.
I will light no firework—but I will keep the flame.
And when the charlatans finally burn out—when the dust settles and the tyrants fall—I’ll be here. We’ll be here.
With memory. With love. With work.
Let them have their hollow anthem.
Ours will be the song that rebuilds the nation.
Until freedom truly rings—for all—we will ring the alarm.
Beautifully written, Dino.I concur with every word.
Thank you, Glenna. If only my words could make a difference.
Dino, one ever knows who might be spurred to action. FWIW, your stunning wordsmithing has warmed this ancient woman’s heart. Have a fabulous Independence Day.
Well they do Dino. Your compassion and truths spoken bring perspective and hope. Thank you.
Your words already have made a difference, if only in giving some of us inspiration to overcome despair and desperation. Keep 'em coming.
May I share them on fb?
You may share what I wrote, yes, however, I can’t speak for John. My comment—without John’s anchoring piece—might make mine more opaque or incomplete. But you may share my writing.
Thank you.
Good on ya' mate, just beautiful 😍
Thank you, Greg, for your kind words.
I love this soooo much, Dino!
Beautiful Dino. You are quite the wordsmith with wisdom and heart. Thank you.
Thank you for your words of hope
Saturday is the beach clean up. I'll be doing that. I asked the city to put up barriers to protect an osprey nest with babies located near the beach...and they have! Trying to make a good difference if I can.
The most wondrous energy source in the world is “Empathy+Action”. It’s “Clean Energy” at its finest. The more we practice it, the more we give oxygen to a flame of humanity musk and trump and their wannabes would extinguish to satisfy their diseased egos. I’m leaving to volunteer at Feeding America, as have for ten years. It has seen an 88% rise in need since this June 1, 2025. Like you, Joyce M. Shaw, I’m keeping my shoulder to the wheel trying to make a good difference. It’s an anecdote to despair, and puts me in great company with others refusing to give-up.
I will not be celebrating the 4th. 👎🏽
“It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Abraham Lincoln
November 19, 1863
Nor will I. The American flag has not been flown by me for quite some time. I feel it's been hijacked by evangelical Christians and far right conservatives.
And that’s why the No Kings promoters said bring an American flag—WE NEED TO TAKE IT BACK.
You have given up and allowed your country to be hijacked without a fight. You have given your country over to the fascists
I will honor my forefathers who fought in the Revolutionary War. I will not salute the soulless Congress and Judiciary who promote a convicted felon in the White House.
It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to endure the neighbors’ noisy firecrackers and fireworks that are legal in backyards in Georgia, but this year there is little left of our democracy to celebrate as we have fallen off the cliff into a fascist autocracy led by a demented, evil, cruel madman whose puppet strings are controlled by evil, cruel creatures driven by greed and power.
Nevertheless, we will…we must continue to resist the darkness as we persist in our efforts to restore our precious democracy.
We will…we must fight despair.
Independence Day? What a joke. Its an oxymoron. 💔
Who needs city sized flying saucers? /s
You have done an excellent job of putting my feelings into words, John. Thank you!!!
I totally agree! This would be the celebration of the loss of our independence.
Not to mention I live in California in a rural area. Fireworks start fires, fires are burning hotter and winds are getting stronger.
I bought a flag just to turn upside down in my window!
Me too but I will fly it upside down on a flagpole outside, along with a sign or two about the sacrifices made by the men and women who have fought to preserve our democracy. I have a Betsy Ross flag too to remind people of our country's origins. I think some MAGAs and January sixers have defiled that flag too but it doesn't belong to them.
Please do not despair. We, your loving Substack congregation need you to keep the faith. I have Hope. True unrepentant HOPE. People speak of hope as if she is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider webs. It is not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the pavement in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another fight. And still I rise.
I'm witcha' 🤠
I’ve had a sense of impending doom for the past week or so. I thought it was my birthday earlier this week, I turned 60. I have multiple sclerosis and I’m on disability. I’m worried about death. I’m not afraid of the hereafter, by no means does that scare me. I’m thinking about how much I want to see my grandchildren grow up with me in their lives, not watching from afar.
I guess it’s possible that I’m more worried about living in the hell that is now.
So true. We (at least I am) are grieving with you.
I have the privilege of doing volunteer work coaching USAID employees. Their last day was the 31st, although many were furloughed a few months earlier. The grieving is incomprehensible, as not only has this meant a loss of often decades long, mission driven service, but the impossibility of comprehending the reality that a 19 year old "Big Balls," was able to decimate data, history, documentation of decades service, and more, in one act of defiance. The mind cannot reason or find meaning in warehouses filled with paste to feed malnourished children, medications to prevent and treat HIV, left undistributed. The mind cannot comprehend an ignorance which resists understanding of the need for outreach, humanity, diplomacy, and the influence of soft power in establishing trust and goodwill in the world. When my client yesterday said, "I don't know who I am as an American anymore." I felt and resonated with the disequilibrium caused by this dystopian moment in our country, and in the world.
Holy cow that was powerful. Tomorrow we will be buying 2 bags of pet food and dropping it off at the local shelter instead of doing that whole fireworks thing. It scares the dogs and, like John says, it’s year it’s a farce anyway.
❤️
This year, I am grieving the death of a nation that once valued liberty and justice for all, respect for the dignity of every human being, fair distribution of the burdens and benefits of self rule, the freedom to choose one’s path and providing opportunities and resources for people to do so, An empathy for the most vulnerable people of the nation in the world.
As Samuel Johnson said: Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel!
Actually, Dr. Johnson turned out to be only partially correct; these days, patriotism is usually accompanied by childish taunts and name-calling. A few minutes on almost any social-media site will prove this beyond the merest shadow of a doubt.
Thanks, John. I find no sense of celebration for tomorrow. I will continue protesting this fascist administration, joining hands and love for this country with others, until the fascists are gone and we can begin the slow, arduous process of rebuilding. I do believe it will happen and I hope I’m still around to celebrate our return to the bright beacon the the rest of the free world looks to.