Backdated to late evening of the fourth of July.

[diedinnewyork]

[Have Eddie barge. Eddie sitting in his room with an unlit cigar, studying the camera like Will Rogers about to give a lecture. He doesn't look the part however, he's wearing a black tank top and showing off his well muscled form. Why the tank-top.

It's the closest thing he has to his uniform. Also he's drunk. Slightly. But none of you can tell that.

give it time.]




This is how it works.

Four score, and a bunch of years ago I don't give a shit I can't do math. America came into being. It was a tiny little fucking country that a bunch of ex-criminals, patriots, and general morons who said fuck you king George My voice, matters. Everything about me matters. I matter, as an individual I'm not just-chattel to be spread across the fucking board. I'm not just a slave to be sold. You can't just take property you haven't seen?

We Americans, for you non-American folk on the barge. We have a serious dick-shrinkage problem. Now I know what you're thinking. "Even the women Eddie?" Yes, even the women. Somebody has more land then we do, we have a problem. Somebody has more money, more friends, more power, more love-well goddamnit we have a fucking problem with it. Somebody has more money-well they gotta keep themselves on top and they gotta pump their fucking dick like nobody's business to make sure that shit is real. You know who you can blame? England. Thank you so much George for giving Americans a mental complex that will forever have us comparing one person's plate, to the other person's plate. Why compare? [exaggerated shoulder shrug. He picks up a bottle of something and takes a long swig of it.]

Because it was new, and people don't like new shit. Fight, fight for the individual, fight for the little guy, fight for this notion that humanity maybe can rule itself. You take away that pack structure? that fucking monkey structure it's a higher stage of evolution. Dogs-follow a leader. Cats-well cats are fucking weird. Every animal has a leader-and America said no. I'm different! [He throws the cigar aside]

If that's not proof of a higher power then what is goddamnit! [He's up, on his feet] Every other country has a king, a ruler, a leader. We have a man we elect and put into office for as many fucking terms as we need to have him there. One of the people!...

[It's a good speech right? A brilliant speech. Something has got to be off. Eddie deflates. More booze is needed.]

....And he drinks. Or smokes. Or fucks underage girls who think a woman belongs in politics and want to get ahead. Or he sends out men, to kill other men in the name of freedom. Other men who are elected by the people. And while he's in office? The people fight. They people cry. The people have opinions and they disagree and they argue and there's this utopian fucking ideal that mankind has wanted. We want to break away from our roots or at least do something better for our children. And instead we raise our children to believe in disillusions and ideals that are just-fucked. "You can become anything?" bullshit it's hard as fuck to feed yourself but as long as you have the right clothes and shoes and that new eight-track player shit... [/disgusted muttering]

The problem folks. Is the individual. The individual isn't worthy, of America. The individual isn't worthy of the tear in the eye that you get, when you hear that national anthem. The individual wants to be safe, secure and isn't willing to discuss the fucking cost. History remembers the battles, but forgets the bloodshed. On both sides.

[There's real passion in his voice.]

Individuals aren't worthy of the tear in the eye, that clench in your gut when you look out over the killing fields. And when you see your buddies out there, lying flat and broken across the grass...

[And emotion. Is that a tear. Maybe. No. yes? He finishes the bottle.]

So today. In honor of the cost like I do every fucking year-I, Sargent Edward Blake. United States Army, 23rd Division. I Agent Blake, of the Civilian Intelligence Agency codenamed the Comedian, am going to read you a poem by a man who I arranged to die in a car-wreck that took the lives of five other people at the behest of President Richard Nixon who drank, smoke, and fucked girls for the good of the nation and to better their careers.

[He clears his throat and reads, in a passionate-well rounded tone.]

How old are you, small Vietnamese boy?
Six fingers. Six years.
Why did you carry water to the wounded soldier, now dead?
Your father.
Your father was enemy of free world.
You also now are enemy of free world.
Who told you to carry water to your father?
Your mother!
Your mother is also enemy of free world.
You go into ditch with your mother.
American politician has said,
"It is better to kill you as a boy in the elephant grass of Vietnam
Than to have to kill you as a man in the rye grass in the USA."
You understand.
It is easier to die
Where you know the names of the birds, the trees, and the grass
Than in a stranger country.
You will be number 128 in the body count for today.
High body count will make the Commander-in-Chief of free world much encouraged.
Good-bye, small six-year-old Vietnamese boy, enemy of free world.

[It's a damn good reading of the poem. Damn good. Eddie finishes, closes his little note-book and folds his hands in front of him. there's an empty bottle of scotch on the table beside him]

Do I believe in America? Of course I do. I stand by America, I stand by the idea. Do I think Americans deserve America?

[So many feelings here.] ...No. And that six year old kid. and all the other six year old kids who I sat in the trees and picked off for hours because you all had to look great standing up there with big fucking penises? Their blood is on your hands.

Fuckers


[Poem by Eugene McCarthy]

Comments

[thestarspangledman]

[He's quiet for a good amount of time after Eddie finishes, frowning thoughtfully.]

But some of them do. Or they could. You'd be surprised, the good things some people have in them.

[diedinnewyork]

...Stand in line, barking like useless fucking dogs. They want safety and security and aren't willing to fight for it themselves. They want someone to hold their hand.

...And when they don't get it, they go rabid. Who. who has good in them man.

[thestarspangledman]

[This comes out a little more fierce than he means it to, but -- he's been a little homesick, today.]

The Howling Commandos. All the guys I fought with in the 107th. Hell, all the boys that gave up their lives to serve a country they loved.

[diedinnewyork]

...You think I don't have guys that I miss too? [Eddie's voice is full of pain. full.] Good guys at the CIA, good guys on the ground. We spent, six fucking days, in trees picking off children. We get back, they spit on us.

Even on an alien planet, fucking spit on it.

[notthatfondue]

[Someone's not impressed by this.]

It is a very narrow minded perspective to take, Mr. Blake, to blame all of England for your perception of how America acts and reacts.

[She pauses a moment, but her lips are still formed in one thin line.]

It's also unfortunate that you speak so much of the individual, yet lump them into a group so they lose what makes them unique. You cannot judge an individual as a group.

[diedinnewyork]

[stare. stare. stare]

...Hey. No taxation. Without representation. And don't tread on me. And snakes and shit.

[His words slightly slur on the word shit.]

...Shit we as a country do that all the time.

[notthatfondue]

Precisely... That's what makes it rather hypocritical of you to do so.

[She sighs and shakes her head, though she hasn't softened at all yet.]

Sober up, Mr. Blake, and we will discuss this further.

[diedinnewyork]

....naked?

[oh god he is deleting this conversation later. He interrupts himself]

No.

Sorry. Sorry. You're Rogers's girl.

[imfollowinghim]

[Whelp, this is also - probably unsurprisingly - hitting Bucky pretty hard, and while he's changed out of his Howling Commados uniform, he's still wearing army gear because it's basically the only clothes he has with him on board.]

Honoring the cost means dragging everything they fought for through the mud, huh?

[diedinnewyork]

Wherein the hell am I dragging anything through the mud? I've got no problem with the men fighting. I have a problem with the people who sit there and think waving a bunch of fucking sparklers and dancing around and fucking-patriotic waffles ease the guilt.

Guys put their shit on the line for fucking waffles.

[imfollowinghim]

There's nothing wrong with people taking one lousy day out of their year to be grateful for what people sacrificed to give them what they have now.

[diedinnewyork]

One day. Tell me you don't think we deserve at least five or six more.

[most_feared]

In my experience, the individuals have always been the smart ones when faced with a danger, and the group has always been the herd of dumb, panicky animals. And there's a few people that give of themselves to look out for them.

Binky, you used/mentioned that quote. that's why you're my favorite.

[diedinnewyork]

The Unit is pure, the idea is pure. It's diluted by people standing in line and buying dollar fireworks and spending copious amounts of money for no fucking reason.

I try not to overuse quotes from canon but sometimes....

[most_feared]

I think the pure unit is what people are supposed to have representing them so they can go out and buy dollar fireworks and pay taxes to support them. It's a responsibility.

[chlorophylliac]

Americans don't deserve America? Humanity doesn't deserve Earth. Drawing lines on a map and acting as if they mean anything only obscures the greater issue.

[diedinnewyork]

...You know what sister? You might be right.

[chlorophylliac]

I know I'm right. And I am not your sister.

Video:

[i_like_your]

Envy is largely a survival instinct, channelled later into tribal impulse. Those who expressed nationalist political ideology were never unique to America.

majored in missing the point with a minor in being literal

[strangehistorian]

This summary seems historically inaccurate on several points. To begin with, I believe the increment you are looking for is "elevenscore and sixteen." Or, if you wish to keep the original format of the Address, "fourscore and one-hundred-fifty-six years ago."

Ilu Chromie.

[diedinnewyork]

...what?

:>

[strangehistorian]

You said "four score and a bunch of years ago." There is a simple way to determine the correct increment, though.

[darknessb4me]

The problem is democracy. It's a terrible idea, but no one ever listens to me about it.

[diedinnewyork]

...Why do you say that?

[darknessb4me]

It's inefficient. Besides, how can people be expected to choose their own leaders? The average person knows nothing about what it takes to lead.