Don’t believe the hype–not all French and Americans hate each other. If they did, why would they be celebrating each other’s Independence Days?

The Institubes crew ushered in the USA’s 231st birthday at its Paris Terror Club July 4th celebration at the Concord Atlantique. Teki Latex acted as host and master of ceremonies inside this boat club on the Seine. American banners hung along the walls and above the DJ booth, while girls wore American flags in their hair. Featured among an all-star Parisian lineup (which Para One, Surkin, Orgasmic, Jean Nippon) was New York-based Institubes signee Curses! aka Drop the Lime. This one night was responsible for me burning off a month’s worth of unpasteurized cheese, croissants and baguettes.

Check out the photos–A repeat of this lineup is worthy of a one-way ticket anywhere in the world.

….Meanwhile, an American expat friend of mine hosted a BBQ at the Daily Motion office in Paris, complete with hot dogs and blue grass music.

A week and a half later, I was witness to a couple events thrown in the spririt of Bastille Day.

Saturday July 14, theDanger gathered what I estimated to be about 3,000 people on the Brooklyn Bridge. It was the last in a series of street/subway events called “One Night of Fire.” Despite months of planning, the idea is to give party-goers the feeling of spontaneity. According to the email sent just a couple weeks before, the theme was to be: ” Fire. Liberation. Paris, July 14th 1789, but this time it’s the battle for Brooklyn.” The meeting location was announced the day before, with an undisclosed parade route. From there, we were led to City Hall Park, danced in the park and splashed in the fountain, and then headed down into the Subway and took over a few trains as we raged our way to Coney Island. The only downside? No one was dressed as Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI.

See the mayhem here

The next day, I decompressed at a Bastille Day celebration in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Carroll Gardens. Frenching it up every year, Ricard and the restaurants of New York’s unofficial French Quarter turn Smith Street into the site for a petanque tournament and the place for lots of drinking outdoors. I shied away from downing Ricard (I don’t do licorice-flavored liquor, unless there’s wormwood in it) but scored francophile points by chomping down on a merguez sandwich. Untouched by New York’s street fair mafia, it was most certainly in the top tier of great NYC block parties. The only downside? No one was dressed as Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI…but at least this party had a guillotine!

Check it out