By David Sirota
In the lead up to my Independence Day respite, I have been through the montage of diners, rental car counters and air mattresses commonly known as a book tour. The nationwide journey has been a blur -- and not because I've been under-rested and over-caffeinated, but because America's newly homogenized culture has made everything seem the same.
As I discovered, the contemporary road trip tells the tale of hegemony better than even shared holiday experiences. Turn on your car radio and your listening experience is standardized. No matter where you are, you find yourself unable to find much other than either Rush Limbaugh rants or Bad Company songs on a dial now owned by a tiny group of conglomerates. The off-ramp pit stop -- once the spicy outpost of local flavor -- today seems mass produced from a Chinese factory, a bustling harbor of franchise commerce astride Jack Kerouac's endless road. Towering signs for Applebee's, Wendy's and Bob Evans are the boat masts on a sea of corporate food below.
Sure, when you drive north to south, the Arbys turn to Shoneys, and when you drive east to west, the Wawas become Circle Ks. And yeah, you'll find differing street sign fonts, varied twangs, and the occasional idiosyncratic landmark. But with the chain store-ification of culture, that's about it -- and today, even our politics is a victim.
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