The Abbeville Institute
I saw a pile of household goods on the
side of the road a couple of days ago, as I was picking up a friend to
take him to the store. It was a blighting image that I gazed on with
disdain. I asked him what was that, and he said his neighbor was
cleaning the house, and it was there for the taking. I am an artist and
therefore not proud, a prospector at heart. I got out and my eyes
immediately fell on two postcards. One was of a beautiful oil portrait
of Gen. Lee. The other a picture of the statue of Marse Robert in the
Virginia State Capital. They were dated 1962, proud symbols of Old
Dominion heritage and honor for a hundred years. I snatched them up
from the pile like a sacred banner that had been allowed to touch the
ground. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
It is sad to see that today the Southern white middle class will
throw out what was sacred only a couple of years ago for fear of
harboring signs of political incorrectness or because they have become
satiated by the Kool-Aid of the Maoist Cultural Revolution which has
engulfed our land worse than any plague ever could. The current
generation of humanity in America has become a genetic hybrid fusing the
jellyfish with the sheep – spineless followers of little character and
no direction, floating about, forgetting the past and unable to see into
the darkness sucking them into the future.
How we have cascaded over the falls from the days when our leaders
had real backbones and thought for themselves and were willing to stand
up for what they believed in. We as a society have fallen a long way.
Our nation is ready for the plucking. But, more likely we will quickly
fall in on ourselves from internal entropy and division and be sucked
into the void of eons of man’s historical ambitions, aspirations,
failures, and demise. Either way, the status quo can not last much
longer. Our nation has already passed through the effervescent identity
of our pre-pubescent launch onto the world stage. We have flexed our
muscles and shown our adolescent prowess, and then churned to a stop
contemplating in our middle age, reposed and questioning our idealism
and looking at our accomplishments with disparagement. But now we have
gone too far and we turn in on ourselves listening to false tales and
false idols. We are standing at the fulcrum of a teeter-totter
wondering what it’s all about, vulnerable in our flabbiness and our
self-depreciation and insecurity. America is suffering a mid-life
crisis.
The Vandals are at the gates and whisperers of appeasement and
conciliation are hiding their symbols and ready to take up the religion
of those storming the walls. The lost true believers await the
inevitable blindfolds they will soon be offered so that the light of
liberty in their eyes will not be seen by the new masters of their fate
and cause them to hesitate.
