An Official Declaration of Holiday!

Screw the sun and its overhyped solstices, Memorial Day marks the unofficial beginning of summer for most Americans, or at least those who haven't chosen to live in the frigid, Palin-producing wastes of mythical Alaska or the fabled southern land of perpetual sunshine and gerontocracy, Florida (that's the word of the day, kids!).  But whenever Memorial Day approaches, I am also reminded of a very poignant fact: summertime has a distinct shortage of A-list holidays.  Memorial Day is kind of the last big one until Independence Day, and, while it is laudable and important, it is not exactly the happiest of holidays.  Because it's actually grounded in something indisputable and serious - many people have lived and died for our country - it hasn't been wrapped up in a furor of superfluous buildup, commercialized folklore, and cheesy theme songs.  The most we get are inexplicable furniture and vehicle sales.  And I'm betting Macy's has some deals, but, since I possess a penis, I cannot vouch for that.  Sure, we've got Fathers' Day, which is nice and all, but it's one of those holidays that, due to its specificity, cannot rank with Santa Claus' Birthday, Holy Rabbit Day, Indian Relocation Day, and Hot-Chicks-Dress-Up-As-Slutty-Versions-of-Every-Conceivable-Profession/Stereotype/Fairy-Tale-Heroine Day.  Everyone can get into those celebrations.

Yes, I am using pretty much any excuse to include a picture of a hot chick in every post now.  Who's complaining?

By their very masculine nature, men are required to gruffly brush off Fathers' Day, otherwise known as Just Leave Me Alone Day.  During the summer months, all we get is Grill and Blow Shit Up Day until Labor Day rolls around.  And that's pretty much all of summer anyway, isn't it?

What we need during the hottest season of the year is a hot celebration to rival the titans of the so-called "Holiday Season."  We could try to invent a new one, but many people have tried that over the years, leading to such classics as, I kid you not, Sewing Machine Day, Smile Power Day, Take Your Dog to Work Day, and Meteor Day.  When was the last time you celebrated Meteor Day?

Bet you didn't even know this was something to celebrate.

No, better we take an existing, long-established holiday that has been historically underplayed and inject it with some much-needed adrenaline to the heart, Pulp Fiction-style.  My proposal?  Flag Day.  Nobody remembers Flag Day.  Like a middle child or any adopted one, it's the overlooked member of the Patriotic Holiday Family.  Kind of weird when you consider a lot of Americans periodically try to pass goddamn constitutional amendments concerning treatment of the flag.  If you're really interested, and by "interested" I mean "bored as fuck," you can read all about the history of Flag Day in the U.S. here, but trimming your fingernails with needle-nosed pliers while watching Jersey Shore would be an equally effective form of sadomasochism.  In a nutshell, Flag Day celebrates just that: the creation of Old Glory, the Star-Spangled Banner, the Red-White-and-Blue, the Stars and Stripes, the Big Rectangle With Alternating Red and White Stripes and a Blue Canton Containing Fifty Five-Pointed Stars.  By extension, every June 14th is an opportunity to reflect on the ideals and meanings symbolized by our national standard.  You know, pretty much like all the other patriotic holidays.  So why is it forgotten?  Maybe there's just too much residual pot-smoke in the air from all the kids getting out of school for the summer, otherwise known as "summer magic."

But all that ends here, my fellow Americans.  Like King Arthur rising from the dead to defend England in her darkest hour or the HMS Titanic rising from the abysmal depths to carry on her bloody piratical legacy, Flag Day shall rise to take its rightful place as one of the chief holidays.  The only way to ensure this happens is to sear the notion of Flag Day in the hearts and minds of the younger generation, filling their heads with confusing-yet-patriotic imagery and avaricious anticipation.  Hence, I reveal to you the true history and tradition of Flag Day, as invented by me . . .

It's even sweeter than this, if you can wrap your mind around that concept.

After Betsy Ross, George Washington, and a then-unknown Vin Diesel presented the newly-sewn flag to the Continental Congress, a hasty Masonic ritual was performed on the banks of the Potomac River to invoke the Great Architect and receive His blessing.  It was successful, naturally, granting any nation that held the Stars and Stripes +1000 Hit-Points, a 75% Defensive Magic boost, the Kraken's Fury Power-Up, and Leader of the Free World status (with all the associated self-righteous dictates and pretensions entailed).  This was, of course, a vast improvement over such antiquated relics as the Ark of the Covenant, Excalibur, the Spear of Destiny, or the One Ring.  It ensured America's ascendancy to unrivaled awesomeness, while simultaneously generating a network of powerful ley-lines that would serve as the blueprint for Washington, D.C.

And an aardvark was there.

Yes, an aardvark.  No one knows precisely why.  That's just one of the mysteries of Flag Day.  Do not question it.  Whether by some reflected holy light or possibly eating the ant that happened to be crawling across the flag at its moment of sanctification, that lowly aardvark became a special creature, indelibly associated with Flag Day.  He still plays a vital role in the modern observation of this historic anniversary.

Why an aardvark?  Why not?  Did Jesus have a pet rabbit?  It doesn't have to make any sense, as long as it's marketable, and what could be more marketable than this?

Yes, this is a real animal.

Of course, we can't have kids envisioning this creature, God's only attempt to top Himself after the creation of the platypus.  But just hand this bat-shit crazy critter over to the advertising spin-doctors and you get . . .

Awww.

Presto, a new holiday mascot is born!  Meet Carson the Flag Day Aardvark, paragon of American virtues.  Each June 14th, he steals into homes across this great land via basement windows and coal chutes to shit chocolate-and-nougat bars throughout the house, transforming clumps of lint into novelty miniatures with the power of his steely gaze.  And he flies.  We celebrate his coming by dressing up as our favorite Founding Fathers - exempting, for obvious trademark reasons, John Jay - and exchanging white elephant gifts, reciting jingoistic poetry around the flagpole (that's the other word of the day, morons!).  What starry-eyed, corn-syrup-fattened child wouldn't look forward to that?

That's the kind of holiday June needs.  It's the kind of holiday our flag deserves.