John Singleton Copley: Paul Revere (1768)
"One can inevitably only ever pretend to be an actual patriot."

I do not consider myself a patriot, so I might have no standing to suggest that something seems incongruous about anyone declaring him or her self a patriot. Patriot seems like one of those designations properly bestowed posthumously upon a humble contributor by a grateful community, not something anyone might print on their own business card. That seems a presumptive designation. I also struggle to understand the -RIOT segment of the modern usage of the term, which was not previously rendered in CAPS, but in more demure equality with the first syllable in lowercase type. We witnessed this week, though, both great presumption and a resulting RIOT, which might have permanently perverted the once honorable designation. We see patRIOTs now, citizens not taking up arms against some degrading foreign power but, as near as I can tell, against themselves and nobody else. They've themed themselves to become their own nightmarish worst enemies. Other than my stiff opposition to wearing ridiculous slogans on my clothing, I see little physical distinction between the typical patRIOT and myself. Their actions, though, seem to set the patRIOTs apart. They wear their grievances proudly, a fashion faux pas bordering on humiliating. Humiliating one's self serves as no adequate surrogate for genuine humility. One's patriotism seems properly rendered only in the eye of a beholder, never in the mind of any pretender. One can inevitably only ever pretend to be an actual patriot.

We increasingly engage in political cosplay. Wear the cap and you're automatically admitted as a member in good standing to a "special" club designated by to whom it steadfastly denies membership, as if anyone else would ever deign to join, as if it was an honor rather than a denigration. Desecrate our flag by wearing it as a superhero cape, and some will see you as an authentic superhero. Scream louder and many might treat you as if you were a genuine orator with something meaningful to say. Hold a grudge bigger than the next guy's and you'll more or less automatically gain access to a secret society that nobody's supposed to know even exists, though everyone already does. Carry a weapon, ideally a long automatic one, especially in places where nobody would ever need to actually use a long gun and where the very presence of one will very likely terrify us ninnies and small children, and you'll at least perceive yourself as a true Constitutionalist, merely exercising your God-given right. (God, apparently wrote Our Constitution, and Our Founders were actually good fundamentalist Christians, however otherwise they, themselves, might have proclaimed.) If you don't personally like something, tear down the sucker with extreme prejudice. The patRiot insists that he serves a higher power than The People. Just who in the Hell does that make him, a nobody?

We actually have a process for that. Yes, it's proven imperfect, though it's somehow resulted in an ever more perfect union, though not yet a perfect one. As Kris Kristofferson posited in his tune The Pilgrim, Democracy (note that I'm employing the BIG 'D') seems "a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction, Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home." We seem somehow destined to take every possible wrong direction in our increasingly lonely HeadingHomeward. We're still roughly HeadingHomeward. Very roughly at times … Maybe we're all Pilgrims.

Anarchy used to be the mortal enemy of The People, now it seems that regular order has supplanted that. Dissent seems the new propriety, superior to any other more proven-successful form of civility. Real patRIOTs seem ready to rise up against any old this or that. Pleasing me threatens to become the new social imperative, not demurring to any potentially superior majority will of 'them.' Elections mean nothing if I don't agree with their outcome. Minority opinions insist upon inclusion as if any old delusion rightly deserves to be codified into the law of this land, a curious interpretation of the meaning of inclusion.

A patriot seems a humble fellow. He might insist that he's a world citizen and hold himself not in any way superior to any other person. He might have discarded primitive notions of tribe or nation and be seen by some as a traitor to his country, race, or region. He might receive much more than an equal share of public criticism for his abiding optimism and his tenacious rejection of cynicism in every possible form. He holds most holy his civility and insists upon trying to treat everyone as his equal, often failing and sometimes even recognizing his failures all by himself, though rarely. He seems utterly dependent upon humanity, not merely himself or his whims. He's willing to bend to the will of The People, for he recognizes himself as one of them. He prays for those too primitive to understand as he prays for ever improving understanding. He riots more quietly than any patRIOT he's seen.
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Friday again, and look where we've ended up! My writing again seems to have been almost prescient, though I admit that I've been struggling to keep up, more lost than found, more aghast than inspired. Maybe I'm just tired of the echoing sameness, though a break seems imminent and might have already overtaken and lapped us. As I suggested in Losing, my first posting of this week and the first one for 2021, ""The resulting accumulation might seem indistinguishable from a pile of horseshit, for it often seems nothing more significant that a collection of wrong guesses, incorrect choices, rather than any reliable inoculation against future viruses." Here's the recap:

I began my writing week concluding that the deeper purpose of Losting might be as practice for better coping with feeling lost, not to necessarily ever find myself.

I continued, fueled by a sense of outrage over initial vaccine distribution SNAFUs, by remembering that, "It does not serve us well to over-focus upon the inevitable downsides" in Distributing. We persist in spite of even this.

I next attempted to make a fundamental distinction between courage and what I labeled Coruge, it's self-important second cousin.

I then suggested that, "Our current situation might well be much worse than it seems, for we mostly seem to experience it through comforting memes" in Worser, one of the week's two most popular postings.

I mused upon just how situationally stupid I sometimes become in Smarter, the other most popular posting of the week.

I confessed to a decidedly hesitant spirit in Natterer, an authentic self-portrait.

I ended my writing week by recounting my continuing life-long relationship with WakeUps, concluding that we're usually "too late Schmart" and in desperate need of waking up.

The ending of this week heralds the beginning of yet another. With Epiphany now firmly behind us, we extend into what might hopefully become more ordinary times. I've had it up to here with exceptional in every possible guise. Screw greatness! I will even abandon my formerly firmly-instilled sense of normalcy to accept a new normal, just no more exceptional, please. Rich treats I do not need. I've gorged on the receding season and feel ready for simple suppers again. Thank you for following along with me on this genuine voyage of continual discovery, HeadingHomeward, indeed.

©2021 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #HeadingHomeward, #PureSchmaltz