Ruminations Of A Recovering Pyromaniac

I’m always confused by the 4th of July celebrations. Each summer, countless Americans run out and purchase enough illegal fireworks to declare war on a small country then rush home and promptly blow their fingers off. Of course that’s leaving out the part of the tradition where you get so shit-faced that you’re unable to tell whether you’re lighting the business end of a Roman Candle or your cock. Because really, what better time to detonate explosives then after your 16th beer of the night? “I light better when I’ve had a few!”

Really, idiocy aside, how’d fireworks get involved in this celebration? Isn’t it the height of irony to observe an independence holiday by doing something that could land you in jail?

Think of all the festivities that would be so much more appropriate, like voting, or criticizing the government, or hell, even bearing arms…peaceably, of course. Anything would be more natural than vandalism. To quote the Simpsons, isn’t there a better way to “honor your country’s independence [than] by blowing up a small part of it”?

It’s got nothing to do with me disliking fireworks. Believe me, I’ve sent more than my share of bugs, frogs and plastic action figures to a fire demise. Long before the terrorist kidnapping tapes came out, I was running my own personal G.I. Joe internment camp.

Typical screenplay from my childhood follows. Those sensative to violence, profanity and poor camera work should avert eyes now:

[An African American in bloody uniform is show tied to a chair. His face is concealed by a paper bag. The camcorder swings unsteadily towards a man with a maniacal smile and mid-eastern appearance. He tears off the soldier’s dog tags and holds them up to the camera. They read, “Sigma Team: Heavy Duty.”]

Mid-Eastern Man: So, you heavy, you still refuse to talk? Let’s see if our new death ray will loosen your tongue.

Heavy Duty: I’ll never tell you the location of the base! Tell my wife…I love her…

[The outline of a magnifying glass is held up.]

Mid-Eastern Man: Oh, I wouldn’t be worried about your wife, Mr. Duty. I doubt she’ll have much use for you after this.

[Heavy Duty’s crotch suddenly bursts into flames.]

Heavy Duty: Oh God, no!!! Fuck you, Duke! This is the last time I go on a mission lead by a white man!

[The Magnifying glass silhouette disappears. Heavy Duty slumps unconscious in his chair as his crotch continues to smolder. A bucket of water extinguishes the flames and wakes him.]

Heavy Duty: Jesus, look at me. What have you done? I’ll KILL YOU!!!
[He struggles to no avail.]

Mid-Eastern Man: Still haven’t learned have you? Well we have other ways of making you talk.

[The soldier is fixed with a belt of caps around chest.]

Mid Eastern Man: One last chance.

Heavy Duty: Fuck you!

[The belt is lit. As the fire reaches each cap, it detonates, sending a flame deep into Heavy Duty’s chest]

Heavy Duty: Arrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh! Ok, I’ll talk! The co-ordinates of the secret base are: 12-2343-95876

Mid-Eastern Man: Excellent. Now you must pay for what your country has done to our people, great devil.

Heavy Duty: But you said you would let me go!

Mid-Eastern Man: Oh no, you infidel scum! You must pay for your crimes against Allah!

Heavy Duty: Ha! We both know that the rest of the Sigma Team will rescue me!

Mid-Eastern Man: Not this time, Mr. Duty. Not this time.

[Cut to a cardboard base filled with action figures. Suddenly one of m sister’s Barbie dolls, wearing a napkin over her face and carrying an M80 on her back charges in. The explosion is spectacular. Torsos and burning plastic shatter everywhere.]

Heavy Duty: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! [He begins weeping].

Mid-Eastern Man: So die all the enemies of Allah!

[Heavy Duty is strapped to a line 2,000 Jumping Jacks. The end is lit and he is torn limb from limb.]

Mid Eastern Man: Until you leave this country, we will continue to execute one of your citizens a day.

[The camera pans to reveal a huddled mass of Dick Tracy, Ghostbusters, and Lego characters]

You have our demands! Death to the infidels!

[Camera goes black.]

End Scene.


I was weird kid. But I guess that I kinda answered my own question there. We light fireworks because we’re bored, over-exposed to violence and unbelievably angry at my sixth grade math teacher. Or maybe we’re just stupid. Either way, I think the time has come to grow up a little and celebrate this country in a more appropriate fashion. Happy July Fourth, everyone!