Where are your people buried?
The impossibility of 'Heritage American'; such do not exist
An excellent read from the Elder of Vicksburg at A Memoir of the Occupation - DD
Notes preliminary to a discussion of the Celtic heritage of the Southern nation
So where y’all coming from? Once that was the standard sorta neighborly-type inquiry that in the old days you’d lob at the Mom/Dad/2.5 kiddos in the adjacent booth at HoJo’s while waiting for the gal to bring over your plate of delicious fried clam strips. Maybe that explains the American passion for “legible clothing” that while advertising the usual brands – Hard Rock Café, Rainforest Café, some Disney horseshit – also indicate place: a landscape. Shitty ones, to be sure: New York, Los Angeles, Boston, Orlando or whatever. But place implies – or should, or maybe once did – people: the sluggish, inefficient and sloppy “becoming” of a group of individuals into . . . into themselves.
But good news: we’ve progressed. That’s-not-who-we-are, as the People Department Ladies presiding over the last squalid days of this wretched empire are always ready, willing and able to remind you. It’s highly insensitive, it’s a macroaggression, it’s nothing less than blood and soil Nazism. Imagine, if you will, the impact on the self-esteem of a graduate of the University of Bangalore, whose pathway to the American Dream began with an H1-B at a Circle-K in outside Memphis, through his entire extended family – the whole fucking village, most likely – is enjoying the Blessings of Liberty, and they’re American Waying-it up like motherfuckers over in Sugarland. The local GOP will assure you that they’re natural conservatives, family values and all. Like Vivek Ramaswamy and his MD mom. Right?
And the mere thought that any of the selfy-happy New Americans above and his are any less American than the dowagers of the Daughters of the American Revolution – why, that’s unacceptable, my good man. Just as…
Yeah. It really kind of bummer. They sold those folks a Lemon too. Honestly, they need to mix with us and be friendly. The controllers are trying to reduce our numbers, but they'll be among ours when they finally realize we're all getting fisted sans lube.