hated by life itself

or maybe it's just a classic family barbecue: where the men drink beer and the women are sent inside to cook and clean. maybe this holiday really does represent unity: from the most racist uncle in south carolina to a stars-and-stripes-themed drag show in seattle, everyone can come together to appreciate the luxury their country creates for them at the expense of the rest of the world. they can both look up as the fighter jets fly over, and they can cheer or they can complain about the noise but they have never known bombs in their own country and they'll have forgotten the planes in five minutes.

who will die of heat, in this heatwave manufactured by decades of coal and industry and luxurious imperial growth? will we watch the world cup, and pan over a flag-draped crowd who paid $1000 a seat and more on travel? will we grumble about trump but allow ourselves one patriotic moment for the men's team? we won't need to televise the houses bulldozed to make the highways to the stadiums, and the homeless outside of them dying in wet-bulb heat. they'll write "happy fourth" on their cardboard signs by the highway, hoping someone will be kinder for it, but no one will.

A Palestinian fighter holds up his gun during the group funeral of Shahid Barakat, 8, his sister Malak, 3, and Fatah activist Hassan al-Khadi, 27, in the West Bank city of Ramallah, May 1, 2001.