Recently, I attended a gathering that required that the crowd stand for and accompany The Star-Spangled Banner and recite the United States Pledge of Allegiance. The first is derived from a poem entitled The Defense of Fort McHenry. The second is a result of an effort to sell flags and was written by Francis Bellamy, although the Pledge has seen some revisions since his first draft. Both works are excellent examples of peoples’ ability to act collectively in unison, a phenomenon mostly seen in religious ceremony and on American roads and coffee shops every morning.
I rose for neither of the works, as I find any use of the word spangled as an affront to the language and I pledge to nothing that the Pledge requires, as one cannot pledge allegiance to a flag AND to “the republic for which it stands” in any logical way, especially as the final revision of the Pledge, as written into the US Flag Code, section 4, which reads:
The Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag: “I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”, should be rendered by standing at attention facing the flag with the right hand over the heart. When not in uniform men should remove any non-religious headdress with their right hand and hold it at the left shoulder, the hand being over the heart. Persons in uniform should remain silent, face the flag, and render the military salute.
During the song, I remained seated and accessed the Twitter feed on my phone. During the mindless recital of the Pledge, I persisted in reading Tweets, until I felt a poke in my shoulder and turned to find a man who, it would seem, indicated that I should stand with him and finish what was started. I turned away and continued to read on my phone.
After the Pledge, I turned my attention to the matter at hand. I heard whisperings behind me. I heard: “A terrorist.” “Disrespectful.” “Asshole.” “Probably never worked a day in his life.” Or something to the effect. The matter at hand, however, was important.
The meeting ended and I rose to leave. But before I could, two men turned to me at the door out. One of them asked why I had been such an “asshole” and “hadn’t I learned anything in school” and “there were vets in the room, you know.” One of the men wore a beard. Another wore a red tie. It was the one with the red tie who had spoken.
“I learned a lot in school,” I said.
“Then it’s a disgrace,” the man with the red tie said.
“I have no lessons for you,” I said. “But I do have work to do.”
“I require no lesson from the likes of you,” the man said.
“But you, it would seem, are spilling with them,” I said.
“Spilling with what?” he said.
“Lessons I said. You feel the need to teach me a lesson,” I answered.
“Maybe I’d like to kick your ass,” he said. “That would teach you a fucking lesson.”
“Under God,” I said.
“For God,” he said.
“For the nation,” I said, “you would spangle my face with your fists and liberate it.”
“What the hell’s a spangle?” he said, turning to the man with the beard. The man with the beard appeared to be searching his store for a definition.
