Fake Empire— The National

#365Songs: July 3rd

No Explosions by Naomi Shihab Nye

To enjoy
fireworks
you would have
to have lived
a different kind
of life

Barely a month has passed since I wrote seven essays on “songs for the end of the world.” Those were more innocent times back then, before the American public shrugged off Trump’s 34 felonies, before Biden had a 93-minute debate stroke, before the Supreme Court ruled on behalf of their Fascist King.

What a silly concept it is to celebrate the 4th of July this year, but perhaps we should’ve been saying that for a long, long time.

Tonight, I’m here thinking about the history of protest songs, and to do so begins a long sobering road through America’s sordid past. When we celebrate, what are we celebrating? Freedom, sure, and I certainly don’t take that for granted, but it’s not exactly a guarantee — even now — and ours was a country built and maintained by the least-free amongst us. Given that we basically use “rockets bursting in air” in lieu of birthday candles, perhaps we’re a bit too good at celebrating our dominance, our power, our gunpowder muscles?

Every generation has had a gripe, wars to protest, rights to chase, freedom to demand. That’s nothing new. And we owe our current freedoms to those who fought before us, so yes, that’s worth lighting a celebratory sparkler.

But that begs the question: why aren’t we fighting now? Have we given up?

Stay out super late tonight
Picking apples, making pies
Put a little something in our lemonade
And take it with us
We’re half awake in a fake empire
We’re half awake in a fake empire

The National’s opus album, Boxer, dropped in 2007. Opening track, Fake Empire, was always meant to be a protest song: an anti-Bush, anti-imperialist sentiment intentionally buried underneath the character’s apathy, drinking late into the late as means to avoid the doomsday news. And that was long before social media. The band toured with Obama’s youth-activating campaign, and Fake Empire became the convention anthem — an odd choice, given the apathetic undertones, but whatever works, right? That was the last time a candidate cut through the political noise. Obama couldn’t retain the energy in 2012, Clinton was divisive, and that gets us back to Biden. Oh, Biden.

Tiptoe through our shiny city
With our diamond slippers on
Do our gay ballet on ice
Bluebirds on our shoulders
We’re half awake in a fake empire
We’re half awake in a fake empire

In 2012, frontman Matt Berninger reminisced with Vice about that moment: “I’m very critical of this country but I also have a deep, deep love and respect for its history and its potential. The conservatives and the Tea Party were just playing a con game. They were blurring reality to make it seem like they are somehow more American or care more about American values. They aren’t. They don’t. Young liberals are just as American. They pretended they somehow represented the true America. We just proved to them that we aren’t that stupid.”

The quote refers to a time 17 years ago, and though it didn’t feel that way — post 9–11 paranoia, a stock market crash, bullshit wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the overturning of our privacy rights — it was a more innocent time. That’s not to say the Courts didn’t overreach — see Gore / Bush 2000 — or Conservative media didn’t gaslight. It’s that there was a foundation on which we all stood, lines we wouldn’t cross, progress we wouldn’t retract.

Turn the light out, say goodnight
No thinking for a little while
Let’s not try to figure out everything at once
It’s hard to keep track of you falling through the sky
We’re half awake in a fake empire
We’re half awake in a fake empire

The stakes are higher now, and we’re sleeping through the news, standing around waiting for the inevitable to occur. I don’t know what to do either. It hurts to be this angry all the time. Trump is beatable, and that’s been proven several times in recent years, but we’ve given him too much time to rig the system. And all we have to offer is a stubborn, sleepy old man who can’t see that his time is up.

So as the gunpowder triggers explosions above our city skies, perhaps we should be celebrating what could’ve been, what can never be again. It’s about to get very, very dark outside if we don’t wake up soon.

~

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