Maryland, My Politically Correct Maryland

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," proudly raised in that part of the world where all the states scrunch together, and you can drive through four of them in an hour!

Where I grew up, the Mason-Dixon line was a serious thing. If you lived north of it, you were a Yankee. If you lived south of it, you were a Rebel.

No, I'm not 175 years old! I'm a whippersnapper. But I remember license plates that said, "The South will rise again," and t-shirts with a mean-lookin' Rebel soldier that said, "Forget? Hell no."

My high school was "The Rebels." Appropriate given the fact that the closest cemetery to the school holds the remains of the Confederate Dead of the Battle of Sharpsburg.

Our high school fight song was "Dixie." Pinkie swear. Football games began with a mostly-African American team running out behind a mascot dressed as a Rebel soldier, waving the "Stars and Bars."

Maryland. The Schizo State.

Have you seen Maryland's flag? You would if I could get the damned picture to load, but I can't. Trust me, if you stare at the Maryland state flag for fifteen minutes, it's the same as dropping shrooms.

News comes across the wire today that a member of the Maryland House of Delegates wants to pick a new state song.

The current state song, "Maryland My Maryland," is written to the tune of "O Tannenbaum." It was adopted as the official state song in 1939 and is pretty much a hysterical screed against Abraham Lincoln and the Grand Army of the Republic. I'm too lazy to look up when the lyrics were written, but I know it was just prior to the outbreak of the Civil War.

Before the Confederates fired on Fort Sumpter, there were riots in Baltimore having to do with secession. Some of those riots got a little messy, as factions used extreme measures and took their differences to the Great Hereafter.

So, here's the first stanza of "Maryland, My Maryland." Mind you, the "despot" in question is Abe Lincoln:

The despot's heel is on thy shore
Maryland, my Maryland.
The torch is at thy temple door
Maryland, my Maryland.
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland, my Maryland.

If you're French, right now you're saying, "So what?"

The doggone song has about ten stanzas. (Again lazy.) Here's the final one:

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
Maryland, my Maryland.
The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum,
Maryland, my Maryland.
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! she burns! she'll come! she'll come!
Maryland! My Maryland!

Oh, glory be! I'm thinking maybe -- if you get past the "Northern scum" part -- the legislators in Maryland are worried about inappropriate sexual imagery.

Honestly, I wish the state legislators of Maryland would spend their time more wisely, like on matters such as smart growth and the health of the Chesapeake Bay. But hey. We're talking politics here. Never mind that the Chesapeake Bay is a cesspit, let's change the state song!

You may disagree with me, but it's just a friggin song. No one knows the words except maybe a couple of Civil War historians. This is not like a flag with the "Stars and Bars," flying over the statehouse. It's an obscure little ditty that no one sings!

Maryland, get on with some real business, for the love of hard crabs!