The location bar on this piece is not entirely correct.  It was actually done in Wentworth Graduate College Room 013/2/D3, which is currently applying to the US Department of State for protectorate status.

Two days ago, the final step away from British tyranny was taken, two hundred and twenty-nine years after the Continental Congress publicly announced the adoption of the Declaration of Indepence to the cheering citizens of Philadelphia.

For today, America took the celebration of its independence to the heart of British oppression:  Britain itself.  In the city of York, first reared in the days of the Roman Empire, home to dukes, archbishops, horses, high tea, crumpets, and all the other stereotypical trappings of English power, two heroic Americans rallied their scattered countrymen and. . .

. . . played baseball, grilled meats, drank beverages that may or may not be beechwood-aged and/or cold-filtered, and made a lot of jokes at the expense of crappier countries like Canada.  One was yours truly, and the other was my dorm neighbor, Mr. Paul Spilburg.  Paul, or 'Spilly P' as he's known back in the mean streets of Chesterfield, MO, the harder next-door neighbor of St. Louis ("Tha 'Loo"), likes nothing better than country music, malt-based beverages, baseball, and howling the joys of America's total supremacy at anyone who will listen.  Was there ever a better choice of Independence Day companion?

When a Canadian friend of ours who, for the day, acquiesced to being adopted as a true-born son of Uncle Sam and a citizen of the greatest freaking country ever, weakly mumbled something about 'getting along with the world', he was stridently put in his place with 100% Made-In-the-USA putdowns such as:

"That's right, Canada!  You go and tell the Queen that you don't have to have a curfew anymore!  You can have a girlfriend whether she likes it or not!  And next week, you're moving out of her basement, and moving in with your friend Trinidad, and there's nothing she can do about it!  There's nothing wrong with how the U.N. treats you, and it's not anyone's business but yours!"

And just to prove just how much better America is than everyone else, all of our friends from lesser nation-states whom we graciously invited dove into our ethnic tradition with grace, aplomb, and even enthusiasm - which I think was rooted in their desire, vicarious though it may have been, to be a part of a country that matters. 

Yee-haw!  Pass the barbecue an' the firearms!  God bless America!

NOTE:  If anyone who has no sense of humor, such as Marxist-leaning college students, ACLU lawyers, or major television news anchors, reads this and gets all offended, grow up. If we start getting emails about foreign policy, America's status in the global community, economic imperialism, or anything to do with wars and military prisons, we will then proceed to mock you, and Mike WILL track your IP address.  No SEAL or Ranger teams will then 'spontaneously' pay you a visit, but we know a couple of guys named Vinnie and Johnny Elbows that are 'in the neighborhood' a lot, and they like to visit people who harass a bunch of dumb guys who post silly articles on their silly website. 

IT'S IRONY.  IRONY IS FUNNY.  I HAVE A LOT OF NICE FRIENDS FROM OTHER COUNTRIES WHO HELPED ME CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY AND WE ALL ACTUALLY HAD FUN AND DID NOT OFFEND ONE ANOTHER.  THIS ARTICLE MAKES IT SOUND LIKE WE WERE JERKS.  BUT, WE WERE NOT.