With loud report

Fireworks are awesome.

Fireworks are designed for fun. They are designed to look pretty, and make booms to let you know you’re alive. They are designed to surprise you with what something small, like a rocket, a whizzing bee, or a firecracker, can do. They are designed to make you smile without realizing it, and maybe startle you a bit.

They aren’t designed to start fires, or to blow off your hand, no matter what nanny-statists and media fearmongers say around this time, every year. If someone does these things with them in your neighborhood, believe me, they are more dangerous behind the wheel of a car.

It’s sad that people fear what they don’t understand. Like guns, fireworks are safe to use as long as you act responsibly. From chrysanthemum balls to Roman candles to sparklers to quarter- and half-sticks (not actually made of dynamite, contrary to popular belief!), fireworks were designed to please you, not to explode with maximum force like bombs, nor to set people and things on fire, like napalm.

When I was a kid, I learned about making fireworks (and explosives) as well as setting them off from my father. In the heritage of this country, learning to set off fireworks yourself was normal, like learning how to shoot, and other cool and fun things, like how to handle knives, climb trees, or find your way alone in the woods. Sadly, once kids stop learning how to do things responsibly as they grow up, they grow up to become increasingly risk-averse and credulous about fears. They let other, official people provide the circuses to go with their bread, while they’re told they should just watch, and do as they’re told. That’s not what independence is about.

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One response to “With loud report

  1. Hear, hear! Well said. Fireworks exalt our hearts and our station. The fine articulation of thunder and lightning is a great human pursuit. Firework makers get better at their craft year by year. I’m told there are states where they still believe in the sanctity of these great rituals for the ordinary man—like South Dakota for example. Here in PA the clerk asked for my ID when I bought a six-pack of gold sparklers.

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