Land Across the River

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The Land Across the River
Yankee Revisionist History

Sometimes little boys’, at least in my time, dream of far away places, of castles, knights in shinning armor and ladies fair, and certainly, I was no different.  More then once I was scolded in school study hall for gazing out the window and staring into never-never land.  Often in my adult years, some of my childish daydreaming still remains, making of me somewhat of a storyteller.  Nonetheless while growing up, I was separated from my family, and lacked the normal scenario of having a father, mother, brothers and sisters at home.  The teachers at the school I attended were, much too busy to pay attention to the day dreaming little boy, seated at the back of the class, so they rendered precious little assistance.

So I stumbled my way through boyhood, trying to discover, pretty much on my own, what life was all about, and just maybe figuring out how to become a man in the process.  While attending one of those socialist indoctrination centers, commonly referred to as a public school, we came to that part of our studies, which dealt with what they called "The Civil War."  It didn’t take long for me figure out there wasn't anything "civil" about it, and it was more properly, the slaughter of one people, by another.  Now it doesn't take a historical Einstein to understand that war, whatever it may be called, normally has at least two sides, and sometimes more.

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However, it began to appear to me that based upon their own rendition of the historical record, the "Civil War" only had but one side.  Not a single word referring to the Confederate States of America or Southern States, and the word "gray" was a no-no word, not to be spoken in proper company.  The foul word "secession" could get a student at the very least an "F" on his or her report card!  Should one be so bold as to mention a Confederate hero or leader; that boy or girl may well end up in the corner with their nose against the wall.  I shuddered to think of my fate, had I mentioned a name like Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson, Nathan Bedford Forrest, or dare I say General John Hunt Morgan.
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Why goodness gracious, I thought, I may have learned about men who were honest, honorable, and noble examples for a growing boy or girl. Now we all know, "those people" just wouldn't tolerate such a thing!  Unknown to me at the time was, that I am a Southern Boy, and have the glorious blood of Confederate Warriors flowing in my veins; here I was stranded in the middle of Yankee-land, at Dayton [Montgomery County} Ohio.  I never did get accustomed to pronouncing that name or of calling it home!  Under such strange conditions, I came to believe the earth must be flat after all, and somehow it just dropped off once the Ohio River was crossed.  While spending a sizeable chuck of time my school daydreaming, I began to wonder; what lay across that river, maybe it is a land of dragons, where bad men are banished forever?
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Now I understood how Christopher Columbus must have felt!  My little boy mind began to stir!  Somehow, I just had to know what was out there, just across that river, which separated Ohio from ‘what’?  The teacher seemed to fear the topic so much that she wouldn't even speak of it!  Just the thought of standing up before the class and asking her, made me sweat, but how else was I to find out?  If only there was a way!  One day my curiosity got the best of me; I might land on the punishment list for the rest of the school year, and flunk the fifth grade, but I just had to know.  Trembling at the very notion, I closed my eyes, and raised my hand, just a little at first, and then opening my eyes a wee bit, I raised my hand all the way up, high enough so the whole world could see.

The suspense caused my face to flush pure white, as I waited for what seemed like forever, and then finally the teacher called out "Thomas", immediately I knew I was in trouble.  She never said my name that way, unless I had done something terribly wrong, nonetheless I was totally committed by now, and there was no turning back.  I began to speak, almost with a stutter..."Who … who … did … did … we … we, fight, and what lies beyond the Ohio River?  There, it was out, somehow I had finally managed to say it?  I thought to my, if I get off really easy, I'll face a firing squad!  The teacher appeared completely frozen, almost in horror, and now it was her time to turn pale; she had the appearance of someone in a state of shock.  I sat there waiting for a response that seemed like an eternity in coming, but finally the answer came!

We fought the Confederate States of America, and it is the South that lay beyond the Ohio River.  Somehow, and don't ask me why, I just couldn't hold it back, I cracked the biggest smile, since the surrender of the Yankee Empire. “Well, anyhow that's another story!”  Still, this little boy had to know more, and every time I had a chance to go to the library, I'd sneak a look.  I usually found the Confederate books, back in a musty and dusty dark corner, hidden away along with the all the other forbidden knowledge.  In my youthful research I found out what it was they who were so afraid the truth, they had altered the historical record, and when threaten by the unbridled truth, they entered into a strategy of historical revisionism, cultural cleansing and genocide, in order to cover up their own evil deeds.
 Their most blatant cover-up was the holocaust against the Southern People and of the Confederate nation itself!  Wherein northern barbarians, in violation of all that is descant, sacred and holy, swarmed across the Southland, rapping, robbing, pillaging, murdering and burning their way through the homes, cities and a nation of a God fearing, peace loving and independent people.  Committing such atrocities, that today such deeds would bring on charges of crimes against humanity and war crimes.  Even worse, in their perverse mindset, they defiled our houses of worship as well as the very graves of our dead, which even they were not safe from these vile people.  And now, I know why I never managed to fit in, and as a result I prayed the more fervently, in my then little boy way.
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It is not our own starry Cross of Saint Andrew itself that bears the stains of debauchery and mass murder!  It is not under the Southern Cross and its thirteen stars, that approximately 58 million innocent unborn babies were murdered.  Additionally, the Almighty God in Christ Jesus, the Holy Scripture and Prayer has been ruled unfit for our children, and this is the Yankee legacy.  There is indeed someone who needs to sit on a stool of everlasting repentance, and it has never been the Southern People, but rather "those people!"  Once our just and honorable cause has been vindicated, we can then begin to teach the world about the true nature of the Confederate Cause and the War for Confederate Independence, which includes among other things, the grace, honor, chivalry, as well as the price of our liberty.

God Save the Confederacy

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Professor Remus Wrathbone
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A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious, but it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly, but the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their garments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. --- Marcus Tullius Cicero, 42 BC
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