dictionary with letter A

Anti-American (adj): hostile to the interests of the United States; opposed to Americans.

If you will allow me to characterize an entire nation in the context of the growth spurt of an average human being, I would put forth that our country is presently in the midst of a seventeen-year-old, bratty, rebellious snit.

Anyone who’s had children and endured the pangs of adolescence will be familiar with the sneering comment coming from your teenage child: “It’s my life. It’s a free country. And if you love me, you’ll support me in my decisions.”

Honestly, we did not become a great country through finding a contortionist’s trickery to kiss our own ass. Our greatness is punctuated by the times we have discovered the fallacy of our own practices and pursued avenues to build a highway to better understanding.

To arrogantly insist that every suggestion that America might need to make some sort of constructive course correction is an attack against our nation is nothing short of high school insolence.

Here are three things I know about my country, I love about my country, and therefore insist that my country continue:

1. We believe in giving.

The minute we start thinking that we are too generous and therefore should take more, we will become the latest dinosaur.

2. We are a free country and therefore capable of changing our mind to better solutions.

I am sick and tired of having the Constitution presented as a docile, stagnant document. It has so far been amended twenty-seven times, and certainly shall be again.

3. We have stated on paper that we believe “all men are created equal” and that no one is better than anyone else.

Even though we’re catching up with our own high-sounding ideas through a bit of painful implementation, we have taken the bold step of declaring an eternal truth.

As long as these three principles are pursued by my nation, I will applaud and sprout a tear or two when Old Glory comes marching by.

When we retreat from them through cowardice or lethargy, I will be in the front of the protest, demanding we return to our standards … and risk being called anti-American by the lazy and ignorant riff-raff.  

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix


by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ABO: (n.) A system of four basic types–A, AB, B and O–into which human blood may be classified, based on the presence or absence of certain inherited antigens.

I realize that I would make a terrible vampire.

I would be great with the intellectual pursuit–in other words, studying the types of blood, speculating on the various textures or flavors. Occasionally at a dinner party, I might pull off sipping some of the hemoglobin, to be fashionable or even fun-loving. But I could never be a guzzler.

I think the teeth bother me, too. Talk about telegraphing your intentions–with two pointy incisors protruding from your jowls!

I don’t particularly like the hours, either. I work best in the morning, and after midnight, I kind of zone out.

I guess I am one of those weirdos who never understood the romantic or sexual energy from the whole vampire thing. In the midst of pleasure, I really don’t want to be bitten. If that makes me the non-adventurous type, then so be it. I especially would not want to be chewed on if the goal was to drain my blood. Isn’t a certain amount of blood circulation necessary to achieve pleasure?

I guess vampires confuse me.

The only advantage they have seems to be immortality, but if you end up working a blood-sucking job, what’s the glory of living forever?

I don’t think I’m a fuddy-duddy and if somebody nibbled on my neck a bit in the throes of passion, producing some tingles, it would be fine. But I think I would be a very dishonest vampire. I would have to pretend I was turned on by the look and probably would end up pouring V-8 Juice in my glass to fool my fellow-believers, and also to get my two servings of vegetables.

Yes, blood types are really nice to think about if you need blood. Other than that, it’s kind of icky.

So if there is a choice in the matter, I choose NOT to be a vampire. I’m not really interested in vampires, and I, for one, think Dracula is creepy rather than sexy.

But I guess if you want to be overtaken, bit on the neck and have all your blood drained as a type of foreplay, this is the United States of America–a free country. Go for it.

Not for me. I’m still trying to learn the intricacies and techniques of French kissing.