I hope my dear reader had a great Thanksgiving.  I certainly did.  I LOVE Thanksgiving for myriad reasons, all of which are compelling and legitimate.  But every November, like clockwork, the turkey hits the table and guilt-industrial complex revs its engines.  The woke brigade, armed with hashtags and think-pieces, insists that Thanksgiving isn’t gratitude or family or stuffing-induced coma – it’s genocidal cosplay, colonial oppression reheated, white supremacy with cranberry sauce.  Cue the headlines: The Washington Post calling the holiday “hemispheric violence,” Time branding it a “harmful lie,” and The Nation demanding we “decolonize” the mashed potatoes.  Balls.

Sure, history is messy.  Nobody sane denies that.  But the annual ritual of progressive scolding has metastasized into a kind of performance art – an endless dirge where every bit of turkey is supposed to taste like original sin.  The World Socialist Website even manages to turn gravy into a Marxist metaphor: billionaires swimming in cash while workers drown in AI pink slips.  Meanwhile, activists petition newspapers to stop publishing Pilgrim accounts, as if the Mayflower Compact were Mein Kampf.

Well, fuck that.

Thanksgiving is not a seminar is grievance studies.  It’s a day when America, in all its cracked, contradictory glory, sits down and remembers survival.  The Pilgrims and the Wampanoag did share a meal.  They did sign a treaty.  They did cobble together the Mayflower Compact, which – whether you like it or not – was the first written constitution in the New World.  That experiment in self-government eventually inspired the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.  That not propaganda…that’s history with teeth.

Thanksgiving is about grit, ingenuity, faith, and the stubborn refusal to fold.  It’s about family, cooperation, hard work, and gratitude – the values that built this country.  The woke bitching isn’t really about history; it’s about hating anything that celebrates America’s virtues.

Thanksgiving is a great day.  A day to eat too much, argue with relatives, and remember that despite the chaos, we’re still here.  The woke chorus can keep their dirges, their petitions, their performative shame.  The rest of us will keep the turkey, the pie, the football, and the gratitude.

Because sometimes the most rebellious act in a culture of perpetual outrage is simply to say grace, pour another drink, and pass the goddamn turkey without an apology.

N.P.: “One Vision – Extended Version” – Queen