An interesting thing about the Declaration of Independence is that it was not signed on the fourth of July. It was signed earlier in the year, late June, but all the Founding Fathers, for some strange reason, decided that it would be better to say they signed it on the fourth. Possibly because Old Benjy could see into the future and realized that, if they didn’t move the day forward, those damn Canadians would get to have their holiday after them, which was no bueno for America, as America always has to have the last word.
So Benjy used his political leverage to get them to change the dates on the Declaration, forever altering, in the slightest of ways, American history. Cool, huh?
Well, actually, that’s not the way it went down at all, but my hyperactive imagination and the voices inside my head told me that you would be more likely to read this post if I made up some crazy crackpot theory about Benjamin Franklin being able to see into the future.
And it worked, didn’t it?
What do you mean it didn’t work? Damn.
Well, looks like I’m going to have to rethink my conspiracy theory that Bastille Day took place on the Seventh of July because Robespierre could read minds…
Maybe Marat’s bathtub could come into play somehow? Yes, everyone loves bathtubs…
Well, at this very least, I like bathtubs. They’re fun to take baths in.
So, in short, happy Independence Day, for my readers in America. For my Canadian readers, happy belated Canada Day! And, for my single Singaporean reader, because I know you’re there, creeping my blog, happy almost Independence Day! Just two more months.