The Last Waltz and the Need for a Good Whuppin’

For those whose minds have not been polluted by government run, public education and brainwashed by the long, tireless, continued effort of those still attempting to reconstruct the South, it’s people – and the truth of American history, I hope you will appreciate what I’m about to say.

There are few modern words that describe the depravity of man and reflect his rejection of God, His law-word, respect for truth and love for neighbor and community than the word ‘Yankee.’ I almost cannot type it. For those who know the truth regarding the South and the war of Northern Aggression, you realize what a vile word it is to call a man by such a description.

We should pity those who are lacking in knowledge regarding truth. We should also recognize that those who love truth will hate the lies.

 

It is beyond sad that so many have drank the poisonous Kool-aid of unhinged racist, pro-abolitionist, ignorant men for generations and so lacked concern for accuracy for the truth of our country, that they pass that ignorance and hatred down to their children, and they to the next generation, and then the next, and the next after that, each time spreading falsehood and corrupting minds and hearts with such atrocious, deceitful lies of history that to stand against it is almost social suicide. It’s enough to make a fellow want to lie down under a broom tree and moan “I alone am left” (I Kings 19:1-10).

I have, for quite some time now, continued to watch and read the articles of modern day racists, pro-abolitionists and purveyors of historical falsehood to the detriment of those younger minds who would sit at their feet with great admiration; attend their speaking engagements; purchase their books; and defend their positions with great tenacity.

Those to whom I refer are not “secular” historians or civil rights activists. They are not left-wing political nuts or even misguided moderate or right-wing nuts. Two wings, same bird.

They are influential theologians, preachers and Christian bloggers.

And out of great love and concern for the truth and for their benefit, a few of them are about to get a whuppin’, in love.

Bur for now, while I get my leather belt, enjoy a little preamble to my charitable and loving correction with a little Southern culture.

Deo Vindici.

 

“The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down”

Virgil Kane is the name
And I served on the Danville train
‘Till Stoneman’s cavalry came
And tore up the tracks again

In the winter of ’65
We were hungry, just barely alive
By May the 10th, Richmond had fell
It’s a time I remember, oh so well

The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the people were singing
They went, “Na, na, la, na, na, la”

Back with my wife in Tennessee
When one day she called to me
“Virgil, quick, come see,
There goes Robert E. Lee!”

Now, I don’t mind chopping wood
And I don’t care if the money’s no good
You take what you need
And you leave the rest
But they should never
Have taken the very best

The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the people were singing
They went, “Na, na, na, na, na, na”

Like my father before me
I will work the land
And like my brother above me
Who took a rebel stand

He was just 18, proud and brave
But a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the mud below my feet
You can’t raise a Kane back up
When he’s in defeat

The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the people were singing
They went, “Na, na, na, na, na, na”

The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the people were singing
They went, “Na, na, na, na, na, na”