It left its Northern base and stealthily crept along the base of the mountains, out of sight, then forded the Potomac to invade Virginia in the dead of night-- turning its deadly snake-like head toward the Deep South.
We call it political correctness. It was a gradual invasion. At first, it made some sense. Offensive and hateful speech was targeted. PC speech tried to be sensitive, caring, treating all of God's children with respect. I applaud that.
Then, over the years PC got crazy. In its extremes, PC began to practice the very things that it once condemned. Whole sections of the nation were branded as racists or bigots. Emblems were criminalized. Ideas were demonized. Nothing was safe or simple any more. Restrooms for men and women aren't enough any more. The Washington Redskins Cleveland Indians have to be renamed after 100 years. Dixie isn't a PC tune, even at halftime at a southern university or high school. The entire entertainment industry has been provided with PC indoctrination (brainwashing). As far as we know, this was mostly voluntary.
The South is one of the kindest, compassionate and caring place in the world. Nobody has manners, charm, smiles and welcome mats bigger or brighter than Charleston, Atlanta, Bowling Green, or Chapel Hill.
It is always an outsider who doesn't understand the South, has never lived in the South, cannot whistle Dixie if his life depended on it--those are the folks who try to use their version of PC to indict the South on bogus charges. The South has been framed.
As a frog gigging, squirrel hunting, stump jumping, snuff dipping, log snaking, tractor pulling, turnip loving, slow drawling son of the South, I say, "Leave your PC stupidity at the Mason Dixon Line, where it belongs." Come on down to Macon or Tupelo or Mobile and get a whiff of that warm Southern breeze. Enjoy some really tolerant, sensible, compassionate, fun-loving Southern ladies and gentlemen. Listen to them say "ya'll, fixin' to," or "How ya doin', Sugah?" See them dig some crawdads and cook a fine pot of turnip greens with a turn of exquisite cornbread while you sip on real Southern sweet tea.
There's nothing to fear in the real South. I promise you, you will not see one single slave. No brutal plantations, no African Americans being tormented by people with sheets over their heads. No burning crosses, no hate filled marches in the streets, none of the imaginary stuff the PC pundits up North fantasize about. And our African-American citizens experience drastically fewer incidents of violence purpetrated by a po-lice officer than ya'll would see in places like Chicago, Gary, Indiana, Cleveland, Ohio, Baltimore, Maryland, or Newark, New Jersey.
The South is a place of friendly, enlightened people, sugar white beaches, tranquil blue waters, towering pines, carefully manicured lawns, mockingbirds, best selling authors, space engineers, iced tea, fine food, welcoming smiles, pleasant conversations and sitting on the front porch at night listening to the whip-0-wills along the hollow road.
Come visit us down heah in the South. Just leave your PC at the Mason Dixon Line. You can pick it up on your back north, if you decide it's worth going back to. Most of ya'll stay here once you see how charming and gracious the South really is. You will probably nevah go back north at all. Heck, the furtherest north I've been in decades is Nashville.
P.S. You may still see a few "confederate flags" down heah. Not hate. Culture.
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