I have never understood the song “America The Beautiful.”
Yes, this country has its beautiful places, but what is so majestic about a purple mountain?
All the mountains I’ve ever seen have green, white, brown, grey, and black on them.
Never purple.
If I saw a purple mountain, I’d think it would look like a gigantic bruise.
Like someone punched our country in the face or something.
How is a gigantic bruise from getting punched in the face majestic?
Oh, so you think I’m overthinking this?
Fine. Let me punch you in the face. See how majestic you look then!
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See, it’s not describing America, really — it’s describing a Maxfield Parrish print.
I wonder more about “G-d shed His grace on thee.”
Shed? Like fur when the weather warms up? Or is He wearing it and is supposed to drop it on us when He takes it off? Or maybe it means that He’ll store it in sheds on our soil, until . . . what?
If you ask Him about it, He’ll tell you that He really doesn’t want to talk about the sheds.