The list of things Americans can be proud of continues to shrink, and now one of that list's most stalwart entries is gravely imperiled. Remember when only Americans (and a handful of Brits and Australians, it's true) really knew how to rock? Remember when all foreign rock bands were shabbily imitative of American rock swagger, in a way that, while faintly cute, was without fail also embarrassing for all involved? It was like an Austrian James Dean impersonator: perhaps the external trappings would be in order, but the essence, never. In those days (those many decades!), our rock crown seemed utterly safe. No more. The Swedes now rock better and purer than we do. The Swedes, of all the preposterous possibilities! How has this usurping taken place? What can we now cling to as a nation?

(At least we can still feel confident in the quality of our wildlife, however. In that realm, we're in no danger. Did you know that jaguars are back in the U.S.? Sightings are now practically routine in parts of the Southwest. Take that, Europe! What have you guys got, some wild boars? Don't even *step* to us!)