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I’m just sitting out back tonight. The moon is waxing and a variety of fireworks, small and professional, are going off all around. It’s kind of nice.

According to this report, Americans love fireworks … and gluttony.

In keeping with tradition, cities across the country will launch fireworks after dark, perhaps the most emblematic way to commemorate July 4, 1776, when the American colonies’ Declaration of Independence from Britain was adopted.

The document enshrines the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, which in many U.S. cities today involves competitions over how many hot dogs and hamburgers people can stuff down their throats in rapid succession.

In Washington, a hamburger restaurant challenges competitors to consume as many sandwiches as possible in 10 minutes, while in New York City, a seaside establishment stages a tournament that tests some of the world’s most formidable consumers of frankfurters.

Americans are expected to flock to beaches, especially in the West where the weather is hot and dry, while the eastern part of the country may see scattered thunderstorms.

In New Jersey, a budget battle halted nonessential services, forcing state beaches and parks to close, but lawmakers on Monday night ended the three-day-old state government shutdown.

On Sunday, while state beaches were still closed, however, New Jersey Governor Chris Christie managed to visit Island Beach State Park, prompting outrage.

Maine residents are facing a partial government shutdown as well, but its state parks remain open. They are two of nine states to miss deadlines for passing a budget.

Apparently they also love gross government incompetence and mismanagement.

The Old Lady on the streets of Philadelphia: “Mr. Franklin, what kind of government did you give us?”

B. Franklin: “A Republic, madam, if you can keep it.”

We couldn’t. Last I checked, beaches self-regulate without the need for state funding or interference. No mind. The television-addled, 70% obese post-nation stuffs those hot dogs and hamburgers down the collective throat. And the fireworks really are nice.

I, myself, also indulge. With an American by Alec Bradley.


Libertas Pretium!