Jonathan Clark

Author of Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, And Other Lies We've Been Told. recovering entrepreneur, Bourbon aficionado.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

@LauraMarciano8 Thank you.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

Sammy Hagar, that eternal party animal who once couldn't drive 55 and now can't seem to drive his own career without running over the delicate feelings of the coastal cognoscenti, had the unmitigated gall to show up for a Fourth of July gig at the America 250 bash in Washington, DC. A free show on the National Mall, fireworks, a little red, white, and Van Halen—sounds like the sort of harmless fun that used to define this republic before we decided freedom required trigger warnings and diversity consultants.

But oh, the horror! The Red Rocker dares to celebrate his country without first genuflecting at the altar of approved grievances. The usual hall monitors of rock 'n' roll purity erupted in a chorus of performative outrage: How dare he perform at something tangentially linked to the wrong sort of politics? Never mind that the man was peddling love, unity, and a rousing speech about coming together—right before "Right Now," no less. The weather gods, in their infinite wisdom and with a sense of comic timing the left can only dream of, dumped thunderstorms on the whole affair, evacuating 350,000 patriots and turning the music portion into a soggy non-event. Sammy posted his heartfelt words anyway, bless his tequila-pickled heart.

This is where we are, folks. In the land of the free and the home of the perpetually offended, loving America is the new contrarian act. Rock stars used to smash guitars, snort lines off groupies, and thumb their noses at authority. Now the rebellion consists of not apologizing for singing "God Bless the U.S.A." or waving the flag without irony. Sammy doubled down in a statement: It's about the 250th birthday, not partisan squabbles. Brave words in an era where half the industry treats patriotism like a communicable disease best cured by European tour dates and virtue-signaling Instagram posts.

Meanwhile, the rest of us—Generation Jones stragglers who remember when rock was raw anarchy, not a corporate HR seminar—raise a glass (or a bottle of his own Cabo Wabo) to the man. The Fourth isn't about perfect politics; it's about imperfect people blowing stuff up, eating questionable hot dogs, and pretending the Republic still has some kick left in it.

If that offends the professional scolds, well, too bad. As Sammy might've hollered before the rain washed it all away: Right now, this country's worth a little noise. Pass the lighter fluid and crank it up.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

@SkiersYoung Thank you, sir.

[Merriam-Webster @MerriamWebster]

Why is it ‘cancelled’ in the U.K. but ‘canceled’ in the U.S.?

Because we gave them that L in 1776.

[Just Rock Content @JustRockContent]

6 Year Old Kid Destroys Van Halen - Hot For Teacher On Drums 🤯

There is hope after all.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

The Declaration of Independence wasn’t some polite memo suggesting King George might consider lightening up on the stamp taxes. It was a full-throated declaration to him—and the world—that the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of a stiff drink already belonged to the people because God said so, not because some inbred monarch or his tax-eating bureaucracy felt generous that morning. That notion was so radical it made the crowned heads of Europe soil their royal undergarments; government doesn’t grant freedoms, it’s supposed to stand there like a hungover bouncer, keeping the riffraff from messing with what’s already yours: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, preferably involving a fast car and a cold beer.

Fast-forward to today and there's a distressing number of our young compatriots who treat those rights like the house Wi-Fi password—something the universe is contractually obligated to provide—always on, always free, and if it hiccups they’re on the phone to the government demanding an upgrade and an apology. They’ve never known a world where the king could quarter troops in your parlor or hang you for printing the wrong pamphlet. So, they whine on their $1,500 iPhone that America is a fascist hellscape while sipping a $9 oat-milk abomination and demanding the government fix their student loans, their feelings, and the weather. Professional victims in $200 sneakers, lecturing the rest of us about “systemic oppression” from the comfort of Mom’s basement.

Then, the European soccer tourists stumble off the plane, fresh from nanny states where the government still rations your cheese intake and fines you for recycling incorrectly. They lose their damn minds over air conditioning, ice in the drinks, steaks the size of hubcaps, Walmarts, and the fact that the guy behind the counter smiles like he might actually mean it. “Bloody hell,” they mutter between pints, “you Yanks can just *say* what you think? Without a permit?” They gawk at our air-conditioned SUVs like they’ve discovered fire, while our own snowflakes melt down because someone on the internet used the wrong pronoun.

We’ve built a country so ridiculously good that the people benefiting most from it have developed a hobby of complaining about it the most. The Founders didn’t risk the noose so their descendants could debate trigger warnings and gender-neutral urinals. They did it so you could tell the government to go straight to hell when it gets too big for its britches—preferably while driving a car with a V8, drinking something that is probably illegal in Brussels, and minding your own damn business.

As we lurch toward the 250th anniversary of telling King George to shove it, America remains the only country where you can fail spectacularly, sue your way to riches, or invent something that makes the world richer while the government tries (and mostly fails) to take half. We’ve got more liberty, lunacy, and leftover French fries than any nation on earth, and we still somehow export both democracy and bad pop music. Happy near-birthday, you magnificent, dysfunctional, freedom-drunk republic.

[Hy Bender @hybender]

Coolest use of a drone

[Bill Maher @billmaher]

The World Cup is at our shores, and all these people are doing us a great service. They are reminding Americans that this place is kind of awesome.

[Roy Rogers Happy Trails Music Shop  @RoyRogers_HTMS]

In one of the coolest moments in rock history, Eddie Van Halen stood inside the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History and broke down exactly how he invented his legendary finger-tapping technique.
He explained how he stumbled on the idea as a kid — inspired by piano and classical techniques — and later saw Jimmy Page playing with one hand and turned it into the explosive sound that changed guitar forever. Then he plugged in and unleashed “Eruption” live, right there in the museum.
Watching Eddie demonstrate the birth of modern tapping in such a historic setting? Pure magic. That two-handed technique went from his bedroom to stadiums worldwide and influenced an entire generation of players.
Eddie didn’t just play guitar — he rewrote the rules.
One of the greatest innovators rock has ever seen. Rest in power, EVH.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

"Life has got to have edges. If you don’t have your edges, if you’re not feeling your edges, then you’re not alive. And we’re basically river stones and the river is smoothing us out as it goes by."

~ Ann and Nancy Wilson
https://t.co/LEtzmRI8m8

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

It’s a hell of a thing to watch this story detonate across social media and the conservative outlets like a case of warm beer in the trunk on a hot day—everywhere at once, loud and messy—while the great gray cathedral of corporate journalism sits there pretending it doesn’t exist. They’ve got the story in narrative quarantine, sealed off behind three layers of Plexiglas and a “Do Not Touch” sign. They won’t even fact-check it. That’s how scared they are: too frightened to lie about it properly.

Or maybe we shouldn’t be surprised. These are the same people who spent years running interference for Fauci while he stuffed the lab-leak theory in a sack and threw it in the river. Once you’ve played co-conspirator in the Great American Cover-Up, touching another third rail probably feels like volunteering for a proctology exam on live television.

[Tulsi Gabbard 🌺 @TulsiGabbard]

Yesterday was my final day as Director of National Intelligence. I declassified and released never-before-seen documents exposing the truth about Fauci directing millions of US taxpayer dollars to fund dangerous gain-of-function research at the Wuhan lab, worked with the Intelligence Community to suppress the truth about his actions and hide the virus’ lab-leak origins, and lied to Congress while under oath in 2024. It’s time you know the truth. Go to https://t.co/tVwWp0TxZ4 to see for yourself.

[Tulsi Gabbard 🌺 @TulsiGabbard]

Yesterday was my final day as Director of National Intelligence. I declassified and released never-before-seen documents exposing the truth about Fauci directing millions of US taxpayer dollars to fund dangerous gain-of-function research at the Wuhan lab, worked with the Intelligence Community to suppress the truth about his actions and hide the virus’ lab-leak origins, and lied to Congress while under oath in 2024. It’s time you know the truth. Go to https://t.co/tVwWp0TxZ4 to see for yourself.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

Killer tune.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

In March 1984, Time magazine ran a cover that did more damage to the British and American breakfast than any government leaflet ever managed.

Two fried eggs. A strip of bacon. Arranged on a plate into a sad face, the mouth turned down, looking up at you with reproach. The headline: Cholesterol, and now the bad news.

That image went everywhere. It hung in the national imagination for a generation. Eggs became a confession. Bacon became a vice. A whole population rearranged its mornings around a frowning plate drawn by an art department.

Thirty years and three months later, in June 2014, the same magazine ran another cover.

A curl of butter. The headline: Eat Butter. Scientists labelled fat the enemy. Why they were wrong.

No frowning face this time. No apology either. No note to the generation that had spent three decades scraping the yolks into the bin and trusting that the people in charge had read the science.

The same magazine. The same authority. The same confident tone. In 1984 it told you the eggs would kill you. In 2014 it told you to eat the butter. Three decades apart, and not a word in between about who was owed an explanation.

The breakfast never changed; it had been right the whole time. The only thing that flipped was the cover.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

@damone_mike @CameronCrowe Just finished his memoir--so good. I was a high school senior flipping burgers at Wendy's when Fast Times debuted. There had been nothing like it. Still one of the funniest damn movies ever made.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

Perhaps the most evil company on the planet.

[James Woods @RealJamesWoods]

Amazing how greedy and uninventive Apple became.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

@20th_Centurygal I'll give you five.
https://t.co/bJReeZYkuK

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

For me, the one that stands out was "You Really Got Me" by Van Halen— that wasn't a song, it was a public service announcement from the gods of loud, delivered straight to your teenage crotch and cranium. One minute you're idling through life like a sensible Gen Joneser, mortgage rates be damned, and the next Eddie’s riff hits like a chainsaw through a plate-glass window. It grabs you by the lapels, screams "WAKE UP, YOU PALE IMITATION OF REBELLION," and leaves tire marks on your soul that no amount of adult responsibility can buff out.

We didn't just listen to it; we mainlined the thing. It made every drive in a hand-me-down car feel like qualifying at Daytona, every awkward date suddenly charged with the faint hope that raw, stupid, glorious noise could paper over our inadequacies. Forty-odd years on, it still does. Play it now and you're not reminiscing—you're being mugged by your former self, the one who thought volume and distortion were adequate substitutes for wisdom. And brother, he wasn't entirely wrong.

[Jonathan Clark @JonathanUSA]

@BuzzPatterson @Go2themountainJ I'm still in my VH phase. Heard Eruption at 13 and it's still got me. (See what I did there?)

[Just Rock Content @JustRockContent]

They asked him to play a little something while the other group of performers set up.

Don’t think they expected this🤯 🤘#RandyRhoads #Ozzy