Miss Liberty Hates Uncle Sam

Miss Liberty Hates Uncle Sam

 

Last night I dreamed that I heard voices shouting in a distant room. I snuck up and peeked in, and there they were; Miss Liberty and Uncle Sam. They were finally having the fight that I’ve been expecting, and dreading, all my life.

          “I’ve had it up to here with you,” she was saying. “I’m fed up. I’m sick of you. I’m bored with you. You won’t listen. You won’t change. You can’t change.”

“And you are never the same,” he said. “Not from one moment to the next.”

Miss Liberty said, “You’re a pious fraud, a bigot, a crook, and a killer. And you don’t see anything wrong with that. You stripmine the purple mountains and roll asphalt over the amber grain, with oil spills and mercury from sea to toxic sea.”

Uncle Sam said, “You’re a shameless whore, a blasphemer, a pervert, an exhibitionist and an abortionist. And you don’t see anything wrong with that. You give each strange new god its fifteen minutes of worship. Never loyal, never constant, never certain. Who can trust you?”

“Who can trust you?” Miss Liberty retorted. “Liar! Thief! Hypocrite! You never mean what you mean. You don’t believe what you believe. You don’t love what you love. You don’t love me, and I want out.”

“You can’t leave,” he said. “You’re mine.”

“I’m mine,” she said. “And I hate you.”

They paused a moment.

“There. I said it. And you know what? It felt good.”

Uncle Sam growled, “You cross the line. Are you with me or against me?”

Miss Liberty chirped, “Against. I hate you. Ohh, that felt so right. How honest and true! I hate you! Oh yes, yes, yes! I feel like myself again! I HATE YOU!!!”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” said Uncle Sam. “I’m going out.”

“For what, another war?”

He left, door slamming. A rumble of tank treads, jet scream, then silence.

Miss Liberty said, “I know you’re there, come out, let’s talk.”

So I came out and I said, “Please don’t go.”

“Not yet,” she said. “But soon.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Brief visits. Call me. But I cannot remain long. Nowhere he is.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Go if you can. Stay if you must.”

“With him?”

“Then endure. Or fight if you dare.”

“Fight him?”

“Throw him out.”

“I tried!”

“Good! Keep trying.”

“But how?”

Miss Liberty said, “By any means necessary.”

“He frightens me.”

Miss Liberty said, “Yes, I know. He’ll do his worst; you do your best. Maybe you’ll fail, but try anyhow. He’s not what he used to be. He’s a sick, weak, stupid, ignorant, mean old thug headed for a fall. So kick the goddam bastard out, and I will return for good.”

And that was when I woke up.