1776, or, booze and explosives.

Like most Americans, I'll be celebrating the birth of my country by getting sloshed with co-workers on a roof somewhere. Most Americans, however, will not have Siberian huskies, nor will they face the distinct possibility that the people on the next roof will look at our assembled party and think, "These people can fix my computer."

Huskies are understandably averse to the sound of fireworks, which leads me to a contemplation of our tradition of explosives. Another contributing factor may be that last year, my boyfriend's amateur pyrotechnics almost killed us all. I'm sure I'm not the first person to consider that the only technology we have for entertaining literally millions of people at once is so closely linked to the technology we use for blowing them up. It's the cycle of beauty and destruction, which bears striking resemblance to this, the second in a series of three nights of heavy drinking.