Disillusionment

Wanna know what the first thing we think of is when we hear ska-pop-rock-etc. band No Doubt's 1995 hit "Sunday Morning?" That's right: the attack on Pearl Harbor. (And yes, we listen to No Doubt. The album "Tragic Kingdom" is evergreen.)

And how could we not? Check out these lines from the chorus:

You came in with the breeze
On Sunday morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you well

Those lines could definitely apply to America's response to the Pearl Harbor attack. It happened on a Sunday. It happened without warning. There was even a light breeze in the air.

And what's even more mind-blowing is that this catchy tune and FDR's Pearl Harbor speech have something else in common: they're both dripping with dirty disillusionment.

Ah, disillusionment: we've all felt it. Like that time we went out to dinner and ordered sweetbreads (pro tip: sweetbreads =/= sweet bread).

Disillusionment hurts, and not just when we have an adverse reaction to eating animal pancreas. People typically don't like it when something they thought was going to be fine and dandy turns out to be horrendous.

Like when President Roosevelt and the U.S. found out the hard way that the "peace talks" they'd been having with Japan were in no way leading to anything resembling peace.

Talk about the blinders coming off.

FDR's pain and anger are all over his Pearl Harbor speech like honey on a hot biscuit, but this honey is way more bitter than sweet.

It starts with mention of Japan's "sudden and deliberate attack" in the first sentence, cruises through the Japanese government's "deliberate deception" and "false statements and expressions of hope for peace," and wraps up with a couple words about the existence of hostilities and an accusation of dastardliness (6).

Oh, it also ends with a request for a formal declaration of war.

And if that's not a powerful response to becoming all disenchanted and stuff, we just don't know what is.