Patriot Act

We tried to do our part by prying open our wallets and swabbing out the residue of our consumer confidence. We were on the lookout for cheap but meaningful gifts. We were especially interested in one stocking stuffer that was widely advertised—a faceplate for the cell phone described as “patriotic.” What makes a faceplate patriotic? Presumably it’s the colorful red, white, and blue motif—the stars and bars of Old Glory.

Oh, how few sacred symbols we have as a nation! Veneration of the flag is apparently the only thing we can agree on (though adoration of the cell phone is nearly unanimous, too), but at least we can agree on something. Agreement is suddenly chic, and dissent is déclassé. For some reason, this makes a lot of sensible people nervous.

The rest of us know that agreement at a political level is precisely what a slight majority of voters had in mind last November. A brilliant new one-party system has been devised to accomplish more than a two-party system could ever do. Later in January, we’ll get to see it in action.

It’s not entirely clear what Minnesota’s most pressing legislative needs will be with the New Year. Starting on that $4 billion state deficit without raising taxes seems like an interesting idea. At least state Sen. Mady Reiter has her priorities straight. She’ll still work hard to use tobacco funds to build new highways, stop light rail, and try to make it easier for commercial health insurers to make a profit in our state. But before she does all that work of the people, she’ll reintroduce her Pledge of Allegiance bill as soon as she can. It will undoubtedly pass, and may well be the first law Governor Pawlenty inks into existence.

The bill, which made it as far as Governor Ventura’s desk last May before getting vetoed, would require all school children to recite the Pledge of Allegiance at least once a week. This despite the fact that about three out of four schools in the state report that they’re already doing it. (Oddly, Reiter refuses to amend the bill to allow teachers to tell their students that reciting the pledge is not mandatory. She says they’re already doing that.) Ventura argued that “patriotism comes from the heart,” rather than from the moral hot-dogging of politicians. It was one of the more persuasive things he said.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Court of Appeals in San Francisco has upheld a man’s right to sue to get nine western states to drop the words “under God” from the pledge. The court will be deciding the case in the next months, though it’s hard to believe they’ll uphold their previous decision, if they know what’s good for them. (“Under God” was not included in the pledge until the McCarthy era, when it was interpolated by Congress—the better to mitigate against the humanist leanings of its original author, Francis Bellamy, who was a damnable socialist.)

It’s curious to see Americans and Minnesotans get so wound up about a few stanzas of Victorian prose. We are not a people who are especially fastidious about dogma and ritual. We are selective in our observance, even a little sloppy, and we are known poetry-haters. If there were any teeth in the laws governing flag etiquette, for example, most of us would be in deep trouble. According to the U.S. Flag Code, our star-spangled banner should not be printed on paper, it should never be used in advertising, and it should not be affixed to any uniform other than the military or the civil service. (It gives us pause to consider every professional athlete getting a ticket for abusing the flag since 9/11.) On top of all that, the proper way to dispose of a worn-out flag is by burning it—but with the right intentions, not the wrong ones. Which is, of course, a matter between you, your God, and your elected representatives.