Oh, America—where history isn’t written by the victors so much as lightly edited by them, with all the uncomfortable bits neatly redacted like a CIA memo. What a charming little origin story we’ve concocted: a plucky underdog tale of freedom fighters who just happened to be slaveowners, revolutionaries who detested tyranny (unless it was their own), and visionaries who believed in equality (pending background checks).

And isn’t it precious how we’ve distilled centuries of brutality, exploitation, and legalized theft into a few tasteful bullet points? “Yes, there were some… complications, but look at the Constitution! The Bill of Rights! The inspiring speeches!” Never mind that those documents were drafted by men who would’ve recoiled at the idea of their own words applying to anyone outside their social circle. But details, details—why let reality spoil a good myth?

Let’s hear it for the American education system, that noble gatekeeper of half-truths. Why traumatize children with the uncouth realities of colonization when we can just call it “westward expansion” and slap a John Wayne filter on it? Why mention that the “brave pioneers” were often just land thieves with better PR? And slavery? Oh, that was just an “unfortunate economic system,” not a centuries-long horror show that built the nation’s wealth on broken backs. “But the Civil War fixed all that!” (Except, of course, for the next century of Jim Crow, redlining, and a justice system that treats Blackness as probable cause.)

Ah, but America adapts! Now we have diversity—a sprinkle of melanin in the commercials, a Juneteenth federal holiday (because nothing says progress like a day off), and maybe even a controversial college course that dares to suggest history didn’t start and end with white guys in wigs. But don’t get too carried away—we can’t have anyone feeling “uncomfortable.” Critical thinking is fine, as long as it doesn’t critically think too hard about who actually profited from all that freedom and justice.

So here we are, a nation built on a foundation of contradictions, wrapped in a flag, and sold as “the greatest story ever told.” The heroes are flawless, the villains are foreigners (or, when necessary, misguided patriots), and the bloodstains? Well, those are just “patina.”

What a magnificent work of fiction. If only the marginalized had the luxury of treating it as one.

But hey—why let truth ruin a perfectly good national brand identity? God bless America. Some exclusions apply.