How Do you Stop Random Shootings Up North?

By overcoming Southern Culture...of course.

REP. RANGEL (D-NY): New York is different and more progressive than a lot of areas in other states, and some of the Southern areas have cultures that we have to overcome.

Hey Chuck...we shoot Ducks, Deer, Turkey and people we know. We are not shooting up your malls, your movie theaters and we sure as hell aren't shooting little kids.

You people are different alright.

One of the very first school shootings, back in the mid-90s, was here in Jackson. It was stopped by an assistant principal with a pistol...one that he may or my not have been authorized to carry. Around this time, there was another schooting in Arkansas. Since then, in Mississippi and the surounding states there have been zero.

We don't do random killings in The Deep South. There are too many people we know that need killin' to go on targetless shooting sprees.



We don't, as general rule, do serial killers either. We are violent. Our murder rates have always been as relatively high as our suicide rates have been relatively low. We have some horrific killings...a man kidnaps his family and kills them because his wife left him, a man kills his brother's family over property, a black man that has been in the employ of a notorious White Supremacist (transplanted Yankee by the way) burns the whitey's trailer down...with him in it.

We are not innocent people. There's a kind of code that governs most violence. It's been noted. Thomas Sowell's Black Rednecks and White Liberals is last piece that comes to my mind. He explained violence in the Black community as an inherited cultural trait picked up from white Southerners...who had brought it with them from Northern England.  To this point, how many black serial killers and spree shooters can you think of.



Then there's just plain crime...we have a lot of that too. We are, generally speaking rowdy, ungovernable, violent people but, when it comes to gunning down little children, we aren't your problem.



I know this has the potential to get as rude as rude talk can be. I have always tried keep this place open for various ideas...if you want to go off on guns GO OFF. The only thing that will cause me to lose my manners is on issues of Southern Culture (sadly we've lost a reader over this...I let down my upbringing and forgot my duties as a host). Having said that, if you want to blame The South...go for it. It'll be a more rowdy conversation than usual but, please feel free to express yourself here.

The War Muddles On.

"There is a class of people (in the South, among whom your author's kin were included), men women and children, who must be killed or banished before you can hope for peace and order."Genral Sherman to Thomas Ewing (Order #11)

A curious pehnomenon occurs after and around every election in this country. Whether the Yankee Statist wins, loses or draws, he turns his attention to The South...to bitterly damn our existence or, rejoice in our immenent extiction.

Welcome to the new Civil War

"On a repeat viewing of Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln” over the New Year’s holiday, a scene I had barely noticed the first time jumped out at me. Confederate vice-president Alexander Stephens (played with reptilian gentility by Jackie Earle Haley), in a secret meeting aboard a steamboat with Abraham Lincoln and Secretary of State William Seward, faces up to the reality that the era of slavery has come to an end. Ratification of the 13th Amendment, Stephens muses, will destroy the basis of the Southern economy and the South’s traditional way of life. “We won’t know ourselves anymore,” he says.

"If only it had been so."  Andrew O'Hehir

Sorry about yer luck prick...but, we're still here and I'm raising one just like me. Of course, all I want, all he will want, all my fathers have wanted for generations is to be free of any and all connection with you....and your empire. We don't care how you live your life because we don't think about you...except to the extent that we are forced to continue in the political process of this ridiculous construct you call the United States.  Sorry, Andy...as long as we have to be here we aren't just going to shut our mouths until you want to hear a story or a bit of song.

For Andy Southern culture isn't really a culture at all...it's just a corporate expression of racism and bigotry. What was actually done to the South was less than we deserved...

Look to the South and you who went with us through that land can best say if they have not been fearfully punished. Mourning is in every household, desolation written in broad characters across the whole face of their country, cities in ashes and fields laid waste, their commerce gone, their system of labor annihilated and destroyed. Ruin and poverty and distress everywhere, and now pestilence adding to the very cap sheaf of their stack of misery.
Sherman

Southern Discomfort

Take heart Andy, according to George Parker we are once again on the verge of extinction...but, beware

Northern liberals should not be too quick to cheer, though. At the end of “The Mind of the South,” Cash has this description of “the South at its best”: “proud, brave, honorable by its lights, courteous, personally generous, loyal.” These remain qualities that the rest of the country needs and often calls on. The South’s vices—“violence, intolerance, aversion and suspicion toward new ideas”—grow particularly acute during periods when it is marginalized and left behind. An estrangement between the South and the rest of the country would bring out the worst in both—dangerous insularity in the first, smug self-deception in the second.*

Again...as long as they smile and dance for you they're fine but, they are still under the delusion that they have some say in the affairs of the country.

Let me put this as clearly and as literally as I can (the only way to be understood among these, rootless, block headed, bell ends). We have tried to separate ourselves from you before and you responded by trying to exterminate Us. You failed. You have failed repeatedly. Why do you persist in this failed endevour when all we want is to be shed of you...and your absurd, greedy, warmonger, self-rightous, culturless, loud, obnoxious country?

*Interesting that the auther relies so heavily on Cash.  If he had written "The Mind of India" rather than the "Southern Mind," Cash would already and rightly have been thrown on the trash heap of Orientilists but, because he wrote it for the U.S. Empire...he's still lauded.

If you doubt me read the contemporary critique of his work by Donald Davidson...where he rips Cash a brand new, two story, brick, two-car garage, asshole....decades before Edward Said picked up his first rock for the cameras.

Sucks to be You World!

Because of your avaristic obsession with the United States of America...you don't need me to tell you that President Obama told you yesterday what you already knew...America is Number ONE!



"No matter what the naysayers tell us, no matter how dark the other side tries to make things look, the fact is there is not another country on earth that would not gladly trade places with the United States of America.” Precious Leader.



"...[W]e’ve still got the best workers in the world. We’ve got the best entrepreneurs in the world. We’ve got the best scientists and researchers in the world, the best colleges,"...the best cheese, the best dirty bookstores and the cleanist interstate restrooms! Precious Leader.

SCOREBOARD CHUMPS!!!!

Sorry World to put your various histories, cultures and achievments into such a deep, dark, abysmal shadow but,...not that sorry.

Maybe a puppy'll cheer you up?



Oh Damn! Even puppies know.

USA! USA! USA! USA!...

Finally...Monday!

The five day work week is often touted as one of labours great innovations. My response to that is who wants to work 40 hours a week? There's nothing liberating about being tied to a clock. Sometimes I work 50 hours a week...sometimes 30. Besides, who the hell makes any money working 40 hours a week...unless, of course, you can arbitrarily inflate your own wage.

Like most modern innovations the "weekend" is an empty promise...a fantasy. Liberties that are taken on Thursday aren't restored for the weekend. Petty annoyances don't take Saturday and Sunday off. People don't become better drivers at 5 on Friday...and you're far more likely to jump in the club pool with your iphone on a Sunday afternoon than you are on a Tuesday morning.

Nothin' 200 bucks can't fix.



All you need to know about Saturday is this...at one point, I had to get dressed. By my reckoning that's a huge fail.

Sunday was particularly irritating...the church was swarming with striped rags. There probably weren't that many surrounding Vicksburg during its destruction. I'm not saying there's no place for a kind of patriotism in the church but, what exactly are we supposed to be celebrating this July???? The destruction of Vicksburg, Friars Point, Meridian, Oxford, Greenwood, Jackson, etc...or maybe more recent events like the fruition of lincolnism and the final destruction of state sovereignty?

In a nave that is, de facto, C of E,..."My country tis of the...land of the pilgrims pride"...you mean the Church of England hating, smuggling, self-rightious pilgrims of new england?...Pound Sand. Despite the presence of people in Virginia for eons, despite the fact the, so called, Revolutionary War was financed through Charleston or that George Washington and Tom Jefferson were Southrons...these witch burners have convinced themselves that they invented the country. Of course, as it stands now...it is their invention and has been since 1865.

No rest at home either...there's an open house to get ready for. I've got 20 minutes of sweeping...roof, deck, drive...and 10 minutes worth of battery for the blower. All in 100 degree heat. I'm pretty sure the Boy saw me fling the blower arcross the yard. Sue me. I have a pathological hatred of mundane tasks...and surly tools.

The Boy was a big help....

"Pick up your toys Boy."

"No...I'm...Not..A...Boy...I'm...A...Bad...Robot" ...choppin the air with his hands as he's walkin' off into the kitchen. Passin' gas the whole time.

Martha was up to her elbows in toilets and had no patience for my dissertation on the inevitable dissapointment of machines...given the conflict between thier promise and what they can actually deliver. She didn't exactly tell me to shut up, but...I went ahead and got a broom, went back to my sweeping.

Eventually we get loaded up for the pool...where, of course, I dunked my phone.

No lounging in my pajamas lazily reading blogs and corrresponding with friends...no NCIS marathons or window shopping on Ebay or Abebooks...just a maddening kalidoscopic series of interlocking frustrations.



Thank goodness this weeks "holiday" falls on a Wed. I don't think I could've taken a third day off.

Post #24

Who Are These People?

Yesterday on my way home from Meridian* I stopped at the Doolittle Cemetery in Newton, Mississippi.



There are over one hundred Confederate soldiers buried there. Most were sent to a hospital in the area from from the Siege at Vicksburg. About sixty of 'em are unknown. Like so many, they gave not only their lives but their existence to assert the independence of The South...to live free from what they rightly saw as an imperialistic United States increasingly dominated by rapacious industrialists.

Yet what do I find at Doolittle Cemetery yesterday?



This demented gesture again...the stripped rag!

I'm willing to concede that who ever You are...You at Doolittle, You at Okolona,...meant no harm. I'm sure, standin in line at Walmart with these tacky plastic flowers, you felt it was a magnanimous gesture you were making. We're all Americans now...these boys should be recognized as the great Americans they were, etc. Of course logically this could only mean that they were being forgiven...can you not see that?

They are in need of no forgiveness. What they deserve is respect for the sacrifice they made. Not only is this gesture highly disrespectful...it's disgusting. That flag has been slapped on every Southern thing that its representatives have deemed worthy of taking...from our towns to our music, our books, our food and our booze. These men were not Americans...like the blues, William Faulkner and Cokecola....they were of The South, they were Southroners, and they deserve to rest in peace as such.

It may come as a shock to You...but there are those, many of us direct heirs of these men, who don't give a fig about the U.S.A...U.S.A. Who don't see it as anything other than an imperial construct...a phony "nation." Without malice, we see no genuine ancestoral, cultural, or historical ties that give any meaning to the idea of a Nation that stretches from Main to Arizona...Michigan to Mississippi.

Whoever You are, if it's possible, think before You decide to do something like this again. In fact it's best you do think about it...twice.




*“Meridian with its depots, store-houses, arsenal, hospitals, offices, hotels, and cantonments no longer exists.”

General..W.T. Sherman, U.S.

Your Name Here 2012

There's a presidential election in the United States this year...in November.

To be honest with you I have very little interest in it but, I was told last week, that I have to vote.

It was a tiny old lady, playing dominoes, at a nursing home told me that. She said two things last week which have stuck with me all this time..."you kayn complain if yea don vote...it's yaow duty"...and "I'm ninee yeauhs ow maaaaahn."

I like to complain so...

We have a problem though.

First of all there's this...



Movin' on.

Then this...



The honky former governor of massaflippinchusetts. No thanks.

Of course there's Ron Paul but...people keep telling me that voting for Paul is throwing my vote away. Seems sensible to me that, before you throw something out, you oughta ask if anybody else wants it.

So I'm askin'....are any of y'all interested in receiving a vote for President of the United States?

If so...here's yo chance. Obviously, if you have any interest in U.S. politics..and only God knows why you would, there is no limit to how long you can go on and on and on and on in stating your case. My email address is listed above. If you have any materials such as flyers, or posters...send 'em. I'll make sure they get posted. Here's your chance. Make your case.

For those of you in Britain, Australia, etc who are thinking that gets you off the hook...stop being cheeky.

Here's who you're up against....so far

My Daddy - May seem like insurmountable competition...those would be some sweet golf outings...but, I have no interest in going to DC or bringing DC into my house so...you got a chance here.

Jeff Davis

A shoe in...except he's passed on.

This fella..

The hands down favorite...if I knew his name.

That's about it so far

I'm pretty sure there's a law against me, as an individual citizen, selling my vote...so, there wont be any cash prize. Sorry about your luck...we're talking about a civic duty maaahn.

Bravo Sierra

I've been writing about Southerners, and Mississippians in particular, for almost two years now.


Here's what Nancy Pelosi's spawn wants you to know about it.




I don't pray for the dissolution of this country. That would be tacky.

I do; however, long and hope for it.

Zulus and Vampires

It's been a perilous week at the Bartlam household. We've been under attack by Zulu Impis...goin' on nine days now.

By attacked I mean those that have been designated as Zulus...Martha and Mary-Cathcart (our cat)...have laid on the couch or under a chair while Pvt. Bartlam has been shot and felled, in very dramatic fashion, at least 100 times. Of course, he's givin' better than he's got...poor Mary-Cathcart has no more lives left and Martha, in much less than dramatic fashion...seein' how she's mostly been layin' on the couch...has been downed several hundred times. It's a ratio The Boy will need to keep up if he intends to survive.

This all started when his cousins came over last weekend...a situation, by the way, that is akin to being attacked by Zulu. I couldn't take any more demands to watch Toy Story 3...much less another second of actually watching it...

"We're doin' somethin' different tonight."

"NO. Inna watch Toy Story 3...Toy Story 3."

"Nope. We're watchin' something else."

"NO NO Toy Story 3."

"No. Just watch you'll like it."

Trying to get Netflix pulled up...trying to find the movie...trying to fast forward, while he was still willing to argue about it and before he decided to move on.

"No...No..."



Silence...that's real movie magic.

Then they started taking sides...R. was for his side. He just wanted everybody to get out of his way.

I was on the side of oxygen...they were all laying on top of me trying to watch the little Ipad screen.

J. immediately identified with the Zulu...
"You can do a lot of stuff when you're wild like that...you can be crazy. How many of these British are there?...they don't stand a chance. They're all gonna die."

B...maybe it's Thomas and Chuggington, Pepe the Pig...or Adamparsons but, he immediately placed himself, and his little rage face, behind the sandbags with the "BritISSSH!"

I certainly remember the first time I saw it...and I've been living with it every since. My Daddy "made" me watch it too...it's one of his favorites.

I was maybe 10 and it floored me...literally, I got some pillows and laid on the floor so I could get closer to the tv. After the initial flush of excitement...it stayed with me. What happened there at the beginning? How did the British end up in Africa fighting these grand people...Zulus! Just the sound of it was intoxicating to me...what in the world were the British doing there in the first place, Afridis, Pathans...

When find yourself wounded on the Afghan Plain.
And the women come out to cut up what remains.
Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains.
And go to your God like a soldier.

What boy could possibly resist that?

Ansar, Ashanti, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Dervish, etc., etc., and big degrees, bigger debt, a bad book habit, awards and offer letters...a Yale bumper sticker and monthly emails from Millsaps begging for money, and baaahhhhh.

The Boy's immediate response was to pull apart a plastic and foam putter...using the shaft as a rifle and handing me the head..."that's your officer gun Daddy." We've been in the Laager ever since.

He's started asking questions though...mainly he wants to know what happened to the Zulu. Of course, I'm happy to indulge in such conversations, especially with my Son...just try and stop me, but....I think we need to throw in a few conversations about individual rights and the centrality of property to those...maybe some law and tax talk..."M"orality and governments, etc. We need a tax lawyer in this family.

Martha did the taxes yesterday...I wish Zulu were all we had to deal with. Evidently having every dime of two months salary is not enough to fend off the yankee governments vampires. We owe 2,000 bucks in income tax..that's not counting scams like social security, the state income tax, sales tax, etc....doesn't include the property tax we pay so we can provide other people with the "right" of a public education...while we fork out thousands to educate our own child...or paying for the mess of a break-in that the cops, the cops we pay for, are too busy writing us tickets to bother with...etc.

Of course, we'll write the check. What else would middle class people do but, continue to take it...we're all to comfortable and settled and civilized to ever make a ruckus. Right? Just keep piling it on...surely we won't balk. Besides, it's all for the U.S.A of Ameeerika...and none of can resist the hypnotic power of the striped rag.



On second thought, maybe The Boy should just stick with the rifle.

USA! USA! USA!

Reckon there's one for the Carolina's and Mississippi too? Surely there are similar souvenirs from their Great Plains Tour.

Gotta be more memorabilia...copies of Love Letters taken out of Southern homes and printed in northern newspapers for amusement, wood from Southern homes in mini charcoal bags, blood stained undergarments?

Contact America Apparel if you're interested.

Lighters in the air.


USA! USA! USA!