FREEDOM.

The Embodiment of America

There’s something about freedom that’s kind of like a free kitten (or puppy for all of you dog lovers). You don’t realize how much of a mess it causes until it’s yours. Now before the NSA gets all Patriot Act on my ass, I’d like to make something clear. I LOVE AMERICA! I LOVE FREEDOM! And I LOVE STEPHEN COLBERT! (Side Note: That pic is my current wallpaper.) That being said…

My first beef with freedom is my inability to blame others for my shortcomings. Have you ever complained about not doing something you wanted to, only to have a parent, friend or total stranger ask, “Well, why didn’t you?” Growing up, the answer was simple, “My parent(s) wouldn’t let me. :( ” Nowadays when someone hits me with that puzzling inquiry, all excuses point back to one culprit, ME. I was too lazy. I was too scared. I was too busy Yelping (Check out my profile at okmarkok.yelp.com). Whatever the reason, I have the power to change it, and I HATE IT!

I own that hat.

My next gripe about independence revolves around guilt. As a middle-class Caucasian American, I essentially have no right to complain about ANYTHING. Not because of an oppressive government regime that will lock me up and throw away the key, but because I would have to be a total dick to complain about my “hardships.” Earlier this year I received a note on my door reading, “We’re sorry. Due to a busted pipe, your water will be shut off for then next 48-hours.” My immediate response was something to the tune of, “WHAT THE F#%K? No water!? How am I supposed to shower!? How am I supposed to LIVE!?” No sooner did my impromptu temper tantrum begin, I opened my web browser to find a banner ad informing me, “Women in Third World Countries spend thousands of hours a year collecting and carrying water.” Well that’s just great. I was an insensitive asshole, without running water.

"Ma, why doesn't she just drink bottled water like the rest of us?"

My last lament on liberty is how often we take it for granted. To quote the most patriotic movie of all time, “Freedom isn’t free.” We Americans spend so much time complaining about our middle-class problems (see the previous paragraphs), we often forget to put them into context. This blog alone would get me sent to the shackles in China. Muammar Gaddafi would probably anal rape me in Libya. And Vladimir Putin would probably poison me if I were in Russia (Yes, I know Medvedev is “in charge” now).

Whether you’re a Prius driving, patchouli wearing, yoga practicing liberal or a heat packing, Bible toting, Palin loving conservative, watch some fireworks and realize how lucky you are to call yourself an American. Unless you live in Texas. (Droughts = Un-American)