To Whom it May Concern,
We’ve never met but I drive by your house everyday on my way to work. I happen to be a proud Southerner and for that reason, your house stands out to me; you’re flying the Confederate battle flag.
Only, this morning, I drove by and noticed the words written on it: “Heritage not hate.”
That got me thinking: when I see old Dixie portrayed on television or in movies, it’s always in a negative light. When I consider the offensive political ideas suggested by non-Southerners or ideas suggested by liberal southerners who may have been born here but have radically anti-Southern values, I start wondering why on Earth I ought *not* hate them?
It amounts to this: they hate our Southern culture and want the last struggling elements of it wiped out. They hate us with all the zeal their puritanical Yankee forefathers could instill in them (and the Yankees were ideological heirs of the French Revolutionary Jacobins who hated old-European Christians). They hate us, period.
The South, according to her greatest apologists, was the last bastion of Christendom, standing large against the forces of atheism, new-age zealotry, and modernist anti-human ideology. The brave, gray-clad soldiers (and the women at home supporting them) were the last Christian knights, fighting the forces of Satania. Santania won and is now trying to wipe out those of us who are left.
Why tell you my opinion about these things? Well, I’m in the habit of saluting Confederate flags or monuments when I drive by them. I salute your neighbors who also fly the flag. But I wanted to explain to you why I’ll no longer be saluting yours.
We need a flag that says heritage *and* hate…because, while I know it’s unpopular in today’s America (where infants are slaughtered in their mothers’ wombs and sexual perverts march openly in the streets), some people, some things, and some ideas deserve to be hated. When someone loves much, there are times he must also hate much. I can’t salute a flag that says otherwise.
Thank you for your time,
…a 30-something wanna-be Southern poet / farmer who used to salute your flag as he passed it in the mornings.