Waving Away Reality: The Curious Cult of the American Flag
Ah, the 4th of July! That special day when Americans gather to salute their beloved “magic sky cloth” and sing the special song. If you’re scratching your head at this peculiar terminology, allow me to enlighten you. Years ago, the No Agenda podcast introduced me to this delightfully cheeky way of describing the star-spangled banner: “If you don’t stand for the special song, the magic sky cloth won’t freedom.”
Though my days of listening to that podcast are behind me (problematic views of autistic and trans people), this satirical gem has remained firmly lodged in my Scottish brain. It perfectly encapsulates the absurdity of flag worship and the blind patriotism often associated with it. So, as we approach another birthday of this mystical textile, let’s take a moment to examine the curious phenomenon of the “magic sky cloth” and its supposed powers to bestow liberty across the planet.
Historical Context
The obsession with flags, or ‘vexillolatry’ if we’re feeling fancy, didn’t spring forth from the American psyche fully formed like Athena from Zeus’s brow. Oh no, this peculiar fixation has its roots firmly planted in English soil, nurtured by the intertwining tendrils of colonialism, patriarchy, and an insatiable appetite for property.
Picture, if you will, a gaggle of English gentlemen, resplendent in their powdered wigs and embroidered waistcoats, unfurling their Union Jack across far-flung shores. This ‘magic sky cloth’ served as a sort of mystical deed, transforming terra incognita into English property with a wave of fabric and a hearty ‘God save the King!’ Never mind that these lands were already inhabited; if the natives lacked a suitably colourful bit of cloth to wave about, clearly the land was up for grabs.
This flag-planting malarkey wasn’t just about marking territory like an overenthusiastic terrier. It was a grand performance of patriarchal power, a way for the ‘great men’ of England to measure their worth in acres and subjects. The indigenous peoples they encountered often held wildly different views - imagine the audacity of believing that land was a living entity to be respected rather than a commodity to be owned! But such notions were swiftly buried beneath a fluttering sea of flags.
The colonisers’ cloth-based claims to land neatly dovetailed with the burgeoning concept of property rights, providing a veneer of legitimacy to their conquests. After all, if you’ve got a flag, you must be civilised, and if you’re civilised, surely you have the right to ‘improve’ these ‘empty’ lands and their ‘primitive’ inhabitants. It was a circular logic as impenetrable as the Tower of London, and just as oppressive.
The American Adoption
The fledgling United States, having cut the apron strings from dear old Mum, didn't so much inherit the flag fetish as snatch it up like a toddler grabbing for a shiny toy. They took one look at the colonial playbook and thought, “Brilliant! But let’s turn it up to eleven, shall we?”
The early American settlers were a crafty bunch, employing a mix of dodgy treaties, questionable ‘purchases,’ and outright land grabs to expand their territory. They ‘bought’ vast swathes of the continent from other colonial powers who had about as much right to sell it as I have to flog Big Ben. The Louisiana Purchase, for instance, saw the US double in size overnight, all for the bargain price of 15 million dollars and a metric ton of ignored indigenous rights.
As the nation grew, so did its obsession with the stars and stripes. The flag became a symbol of ‘manifest destiny,’ a divine mandate to spread from sea to shining sea, leaving a trail of broken promises and displaced peoples in its wake.
Fast forward to today, and the flag worship has reached truly bizarre heights. There are actual laws dictating how to display, handle, and dispose of the ‘magic sky cloth.’ Yet ironically, these same laws are blithely ignored at every NASCAR event and football tailgate, where you'll find the sacred banner plastered on everything from underpants to beer coozies.
This flag mania feeds into a potent brew of perceived American exceptionalism. It’s as if by waving the cloth vigorously enough, one can conjure freedom, democracy, and a side of fries. Never mind the complex realities of American history and politics - when in doubt, just salute the flag!
The “Magic” of the Sky Cloth
According to its most fervent devotees, the American flag possesses an array of supernatural abilities that would make Harry Potter’s wand look like a cheap party trick. It can apparently bestow freedom upon any land it touches, transform despots into democrats with a single wave, and conjure up apple pie and baseball from thin air. Wave it vigorously enough, and it’s said to summon bald eagles that cry tears of pure liberty.
But wait, there’s more! This mystical textile is believed to shield the nation from criticism, turning a blind eye to inconvenient truths faster than you can say “USA! USA!” It’s supposedly potent enough to justify any foreign intervention, because nothing says “we come in peace” like a few dozen stars and stripes fluttering over a freshly bombed village.
Now, let’s contrast these star-spangled delusions with the rather less magical reality, shall we? Take the beloved Ronald Reagan, for instance. Whilst waxing poetic about freedom and waving the flag, his administration was busy supporting brutal dictatorships and death squads in Central America. But hey, at least those death squads were anti-communist, right?
Or consider the charismatic Barack Obama, who accepted his Nobel Peace Prize whilst simultaneously expanding the US drone program. Nothing says 'peace' quite like raining down hellfire missiles on wedding parties in far-off lands, all in the name of protecting the ‘homeland.’
Speaking of which, let’s talk about this ‘American empire’ that supposedly doesn’t exist. Try telling that to the Okinawans, who are thrilled to have a US Marine base as a neighbour (and by ‘thrilled,’ I mean ‘have been protesting against for decades’). Or perhaps we could ask the residents near any of the other 600-odd US military bases dotted around the globe how much they enjoy hosting these outposts of freedom.
Yet, wave the magic sky cloth, and suddenly these inconvenient truths disappear like a vanishing act in a Las Vegas magic show. The average American, lulled by the hypnotic fluttering of red, white, and blue, remains blissfully unaware of the empire their flag has come to represent. After all, empires are something other countries have, right? Surely not the land of the free and the home of the brave!
A Birthday Wish
Ah, happy birthday, dear magic sky cloth! Another year older, another year... well, let’s not say wiser, shall we? As you flutter majestically in the breeze, may your stars twinkle with the reflected glory of a thousand drone strikes, and your stripes ripple with the force of “freedom” imposed on unwilling nations worldwide.
On this most auspicious day, we raise a toast (of freedom-fries-flavoured soda, naturally) to your continued ability to bedazzle and befuddle. May your mystical powers never wane! Keep on magically transforming critical thinking into blind patriotism, and uncomfortable truths into comforting myths. After all, who needs a nuanced understanding of geopolitics when we have a pretty piece of cloth to worship?
But let’s indulge in a little fantasy, shall we? Imagine, if you will, a world where we value actual freedom over symbolic scraps of fabric. A world where nations interact as equals, free from the looming shadow of imperial ambitions. Picture a global community where countries can choose their trading partners based on mutual benefit, not under the threat of “regime change” if they dare to defy the almighty petrodollar.
In this wild flight of fancy, let’s envision a future where the nations of the Global South can use their resources to feed their own people, rather than feeding the insatiable appetite of US hedge funds. A world where the phrase “national interest” doesn’t automatically translate to “corporate profit margins.”
Imagine the sheer audacity of a planet where military bases are replaced by cultural exchange centres, where the sound of jets is heard only at regional airports, not during “peacekeeping missions.” A place where nations are free to chart their own course without fearing a CIA-backed coup if they stray too far from Washington’s approved path.
In this utopian fever dream, perhaps we could even hope for an America that channels its considerable energies into solving its domestic issues rather than policing the globe. A nation that measures its greatness not by the number of countries it can bully, but by the wellbeing of its own citizens.
But alas, such dreams are perhaps too radical for our dear magic sky cloth. So for now, let’s just wish it a happy birthday, and hope that one day, it might represent something truly worth celebrating.
Final thoughts …
As we wrap up our satirical sojourn through the realm of the magic sky cloth, let’s take a moment to reflect on the importance of questioning our national symbols and the ideologies they represent. After all, blind devotion to a flag – or any symbol – can lead us down a rather treacherous path.
The recent SCOTUS decision allowing cities to criminalise homelessness serves as a stark reminder of the gulf between America’s lofty ideals and its often harsh realities. In the “land of the free,” it seems freedom comes with quite a few caveats. Apparently, the right to exist without a permanent address isn’t one of them.
This ruling is set to be a veritable jackpot for the prison-industrial complex, that bastion of American ingenuity that’s found a way to marry mass incarceration with good old-fashioned profiteering. Thanks to the Exception Clause of the 13th Amendment – a loophole big enough to march an entire chain gang through – prison labour remains a perfectly legal form of modern-day slavery. How’s that for freedom and justice for all?
So, as the fireworks explode and the magic sky cloth waves proudly this July 4th, perhaps we should take a moment to look beyond the dazzling display. Let’s question what these symbols truly represent, and whether they align with the values we claim to hold dear.
Are we really “the land of the free” if we're willing to criminalise poverty and exploit incarcerated individuals for cheap labour? Does our flag represent liberty and justice, or has it become a convenient blindfold, obscuring uncomfortable truths about inequality and systemic oppression?
In the end, true patriotism isn’t about unwavering loyalty to a piece of cloth or unquestioning acceptance of the status quo. It’s about striving to live up to our ideals, acknowledging our shortcomings, and working tirelessly to create a nation that truly offers liberty and justice for all – not just those who can afford it.
So here’s to a future where we value substance over symbolism, where we judge our nation not by the grandeur of its flag, but by the compassion of its policies and the inclusivity of its society. Until then, may your magic sky cloth flutter freely – just not too close to any homeless individuals, lest they find themselves ensnared in the land of the free’s prison labour system.