‘The NEW New South’

 

Since the tragic fall of the Old South

To fanatic Yankee invaders

In the fiery revolution,

Her all-wise and virtuous conquerors

Have sought in many ways to re-mold

The Southern mind, to re-create

The Southern identity.

From the bounty of their over-flowing benevolence

Dixie has learned that her agrarian ways

Are an obstacle to the ostentatious wealth

Of rapacious industrialism,

That Southerners are racist to the core

And forever will be such subhuman brutes

In need of bureaucratic tutelage,

That her accent is a disgrace

To be discarded quick as can be,

And her noble and valiant leaders

A pack of lousy, lazy liars

Best left forgotten in the mildewed leaves

Of musty, rotting books and letters.

Oftentimes have Southerners accepted

The distortions of Yankee propaganda,

Yielding and bending into the preferred shape

Of the New South of the Northern dream.

But their victory was not complete

Despite some dismal, woeful times,

For we have seen the symbol of their defeat,

The sign of the birth of the NEW New South –

The Philokalia on the dashboard

Of a Southron’s banged-up pick-up truck.

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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!