But their memories e’er shall remain for us,
And their names, bright names, without stain for us;
The glory they won shall not wane for us,
In legend and lay
Our heroes in Gray
Shall forever live over again for us. ~ Fr. Ryan
“I’m an agnostic satanist with race-realist views,” says one.
“Well, I’m a Christian,” says another, who adds: “…but I don’t take the Bible literally. So what I mean to say is I’m as much a modernist as you.”
They swill their Wal-Mart beers and give a federal salute to the battle flag; palms downward, the way I was taught to do in the Navy. Neither know it, but the old confederates saluted palm outward, like the Brits. I learned that tidbit of southern history from a Shirley Temple movie and verified it later. For years, when I’d drive by a confederate monument, I’d offer a federal salute, ignorant of the unwitting insult.
Unlike our satanist friend, however, I didn’t stay ignorant. I corrected my mistake. And moreover, I get the feeling, sometimes, I’m the only unreconstructed southerner left in the world. The rest have hung out their souls on the laundry-lines of fate and let the fiery-faggotry of Satan’s modern sun bleach them with enlightenment. “Mammy Jo’s laundry bubbles’ll get yo laundry smellin’ mhmmm, mhmmm, negro fresh! Shhhyaaah.”
And I’m not angry at these neo-confederates because of any lack of zeal on their part. They’re zealous enough when it comes to it. They hate (or at least claim to hate) the modern world. Nor am I upset about lack of head knowledge – I lack plenty enough of that. No, I’m angry at the way they’ve fallen in love with a hacked-root existence: living as cast-away firewood, when the tree that gave them birth is at hand, begging them to graft back in.
Entire generations of us were severed from our roots. That’s not our fault. It was done to us, literally at bayonet point. I can forgive a man for being indoctrinated. I can never forgive him for falling in love with his indoctrination…
These neo-confederates make up what I’m calling the cult of the upturned roots. They look up old confederate names in history books and pay homage to those men, without ever feeling what those men felt; without ever believing what those men believed. “Yeah, we love our southern ancestors, but what we really need in America now is national socialism and evolution-based eugenics! Huzzah!”
When a man is rootless, he doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t know how to act. These neo-confederates are like women who pretend to like sports because they think it’ll make their boyfriends happy. They wrap themselves in the trappings of their man’s team and shish-boom-ba with the best of them. Take the sport away from them, they wont lose sleep over it.
Take the south from a neo-confederate and he’ll lose a few clothing items or bumper stickers. Take it away from me and there’s nothing left.