But at least he’s fixed the patriotism problem.

Only a few of the Super Bowl-winning Philadelphia Eagles were going to show up at the White House to meet the president, so the White House emitted a Very Strongly Worded Statement saying that the Eagles had been disinvited because they were not willing to respect the national anthem. No, the statement said, the president could not bear to see the flag and the troops and this amber grain-waving land so sorely disrespected, so therefore they would be having an afternoon of patriotic singing and troop saluting with no Philadelphia Eagles whatsoever, just regular eagles, if any were available, that fans of the sports franchise (or White House staff) would be free to attend (whichever filled the venue in a lifelike manner first).

…

The incident poses the same problem as most Trump-era incidents, in which what actually occurred is more ridiculous than anything you could liken it to. This is more palpably absurd than if the president had decided to declare Tuesday Good Speling day. It is like if the first lady decided that her pet issue would be stopping people from being mean to other people online. No, it is like if the president had a special event expressly to exhibit what True Patriots Singing looked like and failed to sing some of the words to “God Bless America,” a song with 47 words, nine of which are just “God bless America” repeated three times.

Well that leaves 38 and 38 is very many words to remember. Very.

But what is patriotism, anyway? Is it a genuine love for country, a belief in its ideals even at personal cost, a desire to honor those who have sacrificed to keep it safe, a willingness to help it move closer to its ideals? Or is it weaponizing the symbols of your country in order to trample over human beings, and becoming very, very upset whenever a black athlete engages in political speech? Is there anything more patriotic than insisting that you, the president, can pardon yourself (but, of course, have nothing to pardon)?

As the song goes, America. America. Something something.

God mumble mumble.

Donald Trump is America’s biggest fake fan. He doesn’t know any of the hits (“Lincoln … he did something that was a very important thing to do, and especially at that time“; “Frederick Douglass is an example of somebody who’s done an amazing job and is getting recognized more and more.”) But he owns all of the gear.

His is the patriotism of valorizing empty forms of devotion, mouth-honor, military bands and bunting. It’s swaddling yourself in the flag and trying to get a tank to drive down Pennsylvania Avenue. It’s crying “America” whenever anyone criticizes something that is not America — our legacy of racism, or the Trump presidency.

He’s all about the symbols, and pig-ignorant about the substance. What little he does “know” is wrong.

Trump’s patriotism is the pernicious notion of America as something distinct from the people and the ideas that compose it, the notion that the symbols themselves are inherently worthy of honor whether or not they stand for anything.

That; that’s what I’ve been getting at. Standing up “with hand on heart” for a song is the emptiest kind of “patriotism” there could possibly be. Trump might as well stage a ceremony to honor his ugly Trump living room every night; it’s just as relevant. Genuine patriotism worth anything would be about making America better, not singing a song in a particular bodily position.