250 where are we?

This Sestercentennial, raise those pints for a toast to a centered union, with broader, rainbowed strokes from sea to sea. A more blended union.

Americans squandered our precious lands. We killed off the native bison. We chase wild horses with helicopters so rich ranchers can graze cattle for pennies per acre on public lands, while fat cats in high rises and columned houses disparage those who must eat canned meat and vegetables, as the would-be kings cut their filet mignon with a fork. Tender meat from our open range requires more acres, feedlots, slaughterhouses, and life-giving water. Here’s to a perfect killing from helicopters as riflemen shoot the grizzlies and wolves from the air.

Raise your pints; down them now. Eat your tender steak and drink your high-intensity, hoppy beers. My apologies - those who prefer tequila must settle for gin or sotol, because the agave plant is extinct.

Fill your bellies. Let’s toast, knowing that in another 500 years, the wastelands will erupt with your remains, our plains will be green again, and our rivers clean.

Raise your glasses and beer mugs. Let’s toast the coming time, when we begin again.

 Copyright © 7/28/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin for Lana's unofficial challenge: