Burning the Flag

I reserve my keyboard strokes for all of you stupid idiots out there burning flags. Here is a little education from me, a concerned citizen as well as a veteran of two wars.

Our nation’s flag is not a symbol of the corrupt government in Washington that resides in an area called the District of Columbia. It is wholly symbolic of the fifty states of the United States of America, a union of 50 states that are joined together for safety and continuity across a section of a continent. That’s the “stars” part.

The 13 stripes are for the original 13 British colonies that decided that they had enough of British tyranny, tyrannical theocracy, and a government telling them that they can’t be armed.

That’s why the First and Second Amendments to the Constitution of those states’ Union say that A) the government can’t make a national religion, B) you are free to speak your mind in a peaceful manner, and finally C) you can keep and bear arms.

These three pieces alone made sure the Founding Fathers and the 330 Million citizens of that union 200 years later could worship whatever gods they want, OR NOT; you can speak out all you want even if you’re not rich; and you can own and carry a gun when and where you want.

The Federal Government in the District of Columbia has, at different times, messed with those rights, and the Constitution keeps shooting them down.

When I went to combat zones in 1990 and 2003, I did so not for the government in the District of Columbia, but for the states of Kansas and New Mexico (where my loved ones lived) so that those loved ones would stay protected and lay down and night knowing they were safe. I did so because I believe in this great Union, a Union of 50 states that make up a great nation.

So, my advice is, if you want to burn something, burn a cigarette, a hot dog, or your hand because you were telling a joke and grabbed the hot grill handle without the heat mitten.

Don’t burn the flag. It just makes you a punk, and we’ve no more room for punks.