Five years from today, the United States will turn 250 years old. But will it be a time of celebration or a time of condemnation? Today there are those attempting to convince us July 4, 1776 was a curse, not a blessing. That the Founding Fathers are to be torn down, not held up. Will their efforts succeed?

How will July 4, 2026 commemorated by this Nation? Which path will we take these next five years?

Today we imagine arriving at the end of those two diverging paths. Two columns, dated July 4, 2026. But two entirely different realities.

Here, a dirge:

Ignatius O’Riley is a young ex-congressman from Virginia. He belonged to the former Republican party, before it was forcibly merged as a minority faction of the single Anti-Racist Party that now prevails.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I hope this note finds you as well. I hope it finds you at all. I entrusted to a friendly Person of Color who agreed to mail it for $20. I won’t go near a post office for obvious reasons. Pardon my fake address. I do not live in Gettysburg.

Let me apologize one more time for that unwise last email I sent you. I knew that my complaints about President Harris’ latest National Security crackdowns on “racist demagogues” might get my own email canceled. But when three of my colleagues were detained by the Capitol Police I just had to vent to someone. It never occurred to me that I might bring down wrath on you, and in fact my entire address book. I don’t even know who among my friends has email anymore. I cannot access the Internet, of course, since the Red Flag order.

Even at public libraries or cafes, the moment I type in the ID from my vaccine passport, the screen goes blank. Shortly after that, a scared looking chief librarian or café manager asks me to please leave quietly. Of course I can’t use ATMs either, but I got my money out just before my accounts were frozen. I now keep it in cash, under the mattress at the room I’m renting from this very nice Vietnamese family I met in church. At least those are still open, for now.

After My Last Speech in Congress, I Went Off the Grid

Since my name got put on the Domestic Terrorism Watchlist after my last speech on the floor of Congress, I can’t find work in any office environments. However, I’m doing odd jobs and making some cash. After this year’s Juneteenth “Day of Reparations,” there’s a lot of glass that needs sweeping up, and storefronts that require repairs. I find that the physical work helps me get my mind off … things. Well, everything. Mainly my own sense of failure at preventing what came to pass.

We failed, we all failed. The experiment failed, if you will. It turns out that the Founders were well-meaning but mistaken. You cannot base a nation on principles and prudence, on natural law and liberty. Human beings are tribalists, full stop. Today’s left agrees with the segregationists circa 1960: America was founded as a white man’s country, and the moment it stopped being that, it was up for grabs. The Civil Rights leaders, the race-blind conservatives, the churches … they were all whistling Dixie, if you will.

People of Pallor

I’m glad that some of the churches are still non-segregated. A surprising number of congregations of Color (remember when saying “black” was still considered ok?) reject the CRT gospel, and its new “translations” of the scriptures. A fair number of Catholic pastors around here still haven’t gone out and gotten married to men, despite the Vatican’s urgings. I’m spending a lot of time at the mostly Asian parish that my landlords attend. The Vietnamese are pretty accepting of People of Pallor; maybe some of them remember that we tried to save their country from Communism. Which is bitterly funny when you think of it. The idea of Americans saving a country.

Those Who Collaborate, Those Who Resist

It’s lonely here, I’ll admit. Most of my old associates from politics have scattered to the four winds. A few of them are willing to cash a check play-acting the role of “controlled opposition” as the Anti-Racists’ right fringe. I don’t need to hear from those people.

But the better guys and gals from Congress resigned rather than join the Party, and are now back in their districts, I hear. With their names also in the Database, they can’t work as attorneys or run successful businesses anymore. However a lot of them told me they planned to teach in informal home-schools, which the feds haven’t yet figured out a pretext for making illegal. But give them time! Perhaps they’ll use COVID-26 as a reason. (To be honest, I don’t even know if that disease is even real, but I can’t go online, so there’s no way to check. Do you think it really exists? Are those vaccines they’re giving us just placebos?)

Our Name Will Die With Our Country

I don’t want to worry you. I promise to keep my head low and stay out of trouble. Off the grid, as much as possible. At least I never married and don’t have any hostages to leave behind for our masters to torture or (worse) corrupt. Our name and our line will die along with our country, mom and dad. No collaborationists, snitches, or spies will be here to dishonor it.

That’s the only real consolation I can offer you on this once-legal holiday. Now I’m going to find a sports bar with huge TVs to watch them paint the White House black. I wonder how it will look.

For the celebratory vision of America’s 250th, see “Five Years from Today: Happy 250th Birthday, America!”

Love,

Ignatius

John Zmirak is a senior editor at The Stream and author or co-author of ten books, including The Politically Incorrect Guide to Immigration and The Politically Incorrect Guide to Catholicism. He is co-author with Jason Jones of “God, Guns, & the Government.”