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The ex-slave Charlie Davenport remembers slavery during the Great Depression:

“Insisting that “us didn’t b’long to no white trash,” Davenport, like many slaves and former slaves, expressed great pride in his master, “one ob de richest en highest quality gentlemen in de whole country,” and took special delight in the character of the Surgets, the wealthy family of his owner’s wife: “Dey wuz de out fightenist, out cussinest, fastest ridin, hardest drinkin, out spendinest folks I ebber seed. But Lawd, Lawd, dey wuz gentlemen eben in dey cups.” (that is, when drunk.”)

Reading this passage you know instantly that he is describing our people and their weltanschauung which couldn’t be further removed from the morose, moralizing Yankee Puritan.

Compare the tone of Dixie to Battle Hymn of the Republic which talks about holy Yankees dying to make the negro free:

About Hunter Wallace 12392 Articles
Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Occidental Dissent

50 Comments

  1. Touched a nerve didn’t I? Listen up, you worhtless, ignorant, little moronic pussy, the CSA whipped your thieving, raping, mercenary, white-trash asses to the tune of 350,000 dead yanks. Deal with it, you sniveling little scumbag retard. So….

    Grow the fuck up.
    Open your eyes.
    Take two Non-stupid Pills and wash ‘em down with a glass of Clue Juice.
    There’s work to be done.
    So start doing it.
    Dismissed, sailor.

  2. @Caldwell

    “..the CSA whipped your thieving, raping, mercenary, white-trash asses to the tune of 350,000 dead yanks.

    – And when the smoke cleared, Atlanta was a pile of ashes, Robert E. Lee said “I give up!”, and the Stars and Stripes flew over the Dixie.

    Deal with it, you sniveling little scumbag retard.

  3. “Touched a nerve didn’t I?”

    It is to larf. Chimpo, you’re not even on the same continent as my nerves. You couldn’t find one of my nerves if I gave you an ACME-brand battery-powered Nerve Detector, a map and a decoder ring. Keep dreaming.

    The difference between North and South is you guys (I hesitate to even call you “guys” but SOME word will have to do) have a special little room in your tiny monkey-brains that is dedicated 24 hrs a day to bitching and moaning and gnashing your three remaining teeth about dem evil yankees, lawzy lawzy!

    Us humans in the North don’t spend a minute of our day thinking about you gerbils. We don’t care. It’s the privilege of winning, I suppose, but we don’t even gloat, we just don’t care, we dob’t even think about you. The time I’ve spent typing this is roughly the entire amount of time I’ve spent in my life contemplating Retardville, I mean Dixie.

    No, you haven’t hit a nerve, not even close. I’m poking you with a stick because it makes me feel naughty, because unlike you ground-apes I had a proper upbringing and was taught that it’s wrong to taunt small animals, retards, puerto ricans and southerners. So I get a little thrill from being bad on a slow afternoon.

    Actually in seriousness my point is, will y’all PLEASE quit living in the past. The white race is up against the wall and you monkeys are still re-living First Bull Run.

    I can think of nothing less helpful. Hell, I know Jews who do more for white people than you jokers.

    Put the period musket down, take off the silly uniform and get down to real business.

    Over and out.

  4. @Chris,
    And when the smoke cleared, 350,000 yanks lay dead in Southern dust. And the northern wives wailed, the mothers grieved, the fathers bellowed, and Lincoln was propery executed for crimes against humanity.

    Deal with it, you filthy sniveling little scumbag retard.

  5. @Chris,
    Indeed, when the smoke cleared, 350,000 yanks lay dead in Southern dust. And the northern wives wailed, the mothers grieved, the fathers bellowed, and Lincoln was propery executed for crimes against humanity.

    Deal with it, you filthy sniveling little scumbag retard.

  6. Hehehe…the nerve is raw, huh oscar the chimp? Here’s the deal, you pathetic illiterate asswipe; you are humiliated by the obvious fact tha,t man-for-man, the Confederates were abundantly more courageous, resolute, intrepid, inspiring, cunning, clever, resourceful, and, their cause was righteous. You brainless, stupid, filthy, reprobate. now get phukkin lost, loser, or I will put another metaphysical sharp stick in your eye. Though really, I do feel sorry for you.

  7. @Caldwell

    “..you are obviously humilated by the fact that man-for-man, the Confederates were blah, blah, blah, yeeehaaww..”

    – And THEY LOST. Go cry some more. Really, I’m not laughing my head off at you.

  8. I’m not really into North versus South even though I’m a Southerner myself; however, present day Northerners who defend the Union side in these history debates while bitching about BRA are so fuckin’ stupid it’s almost had to believe. They complain about the nigs while defending the side that set them loose. Truly moronic.

  9. @Chris

    “And THEY LOST. Go cry some more. Really, I’m not laughing my head off at you.”

    THEY LOST?!!? Pffft…only in your vacuous, bromidic, puerile interpretation. Nevertheless, you are truly a very amusing little guy.

  10. “Your race and your people and your language and your culture and your religion and your children’s future are all being eradicated at a dizzying pace, and it’s not the “damnyankees” who are doing it.”

    It must be the anti-white magic invisible people who are doing it.

    Notice for all Yankees: You did not win the war. The negroes won it. You were fighting on behalf of the negroes. You were then and are now destined to become their servants. You have surrendered your legacy and the birthright of your children to your negro deities. You richly deserve everything your mulatto messiah brings to your doorstep. Don’t bitch about the demise of white people and the negrification of Amurrica. It’s what your people always wanted. Your cause has always been the negro cause, not the white cause.

    So don’t pretend that you are pro-white when you really are not. No one is buying it anymore. We know what people pride themselves on being the nigger’s best friend. We know who the most implacable enemies of white Southerners or any white people are. We know who the people were who elected the magic negro to rule over them.

    The anti-white magic invisible people, of course.
    In the South we have no need for such lies.
    We call the anti-white magic invisible people by their true name–yankees.

    Deo Vindice

  11. “Apuleius says:
    September 21, 2012 at 8:59 pm

    We shall soon see yankeedom wrought to its uttermost with the reelection of King Nog. Only the yankee BRA nation could sit idly by making excuses while its ambassadors are being slaughtered by turd world trash.”

    Well, this is true. This is as good as an assessment of the Present Conditions as anything I have read. I’m stocking up on popcorn, among other things, for the Grand Mal Chimpout.

  12. Hunter – Oscar actually is delivering the funniest posts on this thread, in terms of sheer “funny”.

    However….

    The North started the Civil War. The South had EVERY right to defend themselves from the monstrous Northern attack.

    The North, alas, had industrialization, and a LOT more bodies to hurl in Moloch’s Maw. The South SHOULD have won, were not the Devil ruling Earth.

    150 years later – people are STILL fighting.

    Sigh.

    Fellas – we are NOT each other’s enemies.

    Yankees – the SOUTH was MORALLY and Constitutionall y correct, and just. Still IS.

    Men of the South – the North had MORE soldiers, better equipment, and an industrial base with which to make more stuff. Tactical and practical. Learn the lessons of tacital and practical, gents. For what lies just ahead….

  13. “Feel free though to schedule a videogame tournament to take out your aggression on each other.”

    Darn, I was looking forward to all the promised shootouts, beat downs, and tearing of limb by limbs!

  14. “How many times do I have to tell you gentlemen to keep the comments civil?”

    As it stands, and as the comment appears to be directed to no one in particular, it is wholly inappropriate. In point of fact, the ugly exchange was instigated by oscar. Even a casual review will demonstrate that a very benign obseravation (regarding the relative balance of power between the combatants), was met with a sort of grotesque, foaming at the mouth, wild-eyed fury by oscar. Naturally, he was replied to on his own terms, but the blame is clearly with him.

  15. @Caldwell

    “foaming at the mouth, wild-eyed fury by oscar”

    Oh, good grief. You need to get out more often. You thought that was fury? Nobody on this blog has ever seen me arch so much as an eyebrow in anger, or seen my temperature rise above a nice dish of chilled peach jello. If (and I doubt it) I ever become “furious” here, trust me, you’ll know.

    That wasn’t fury, chappie; that was me tapping the glass wall of the terrarium, just to see what the reptiles would do.

    Your, um, performance, was well worth the miniscule effort, both in internet entertainment value and information value.

    Like I said above (deleted sadly), some people study their enemies, and other people habitually lose.

  16. “You thought that was reasoned discourse?”

    That’s not what I said.

    Chappie still can’t read.

    One sees a great deal of that particular affliction among southerners.

    Ah well. Nothing I can do about it. Or would do, if I could. Like a man said, You’re just too much _fun_!

    (Lights cigar with a page of Faulkner, hums a pleasant Cole Porter tune.)

  17. And oscar the clown still can’t read. More’s the pity

    One sees a great deal of that particular affliction among northerners, especially in the filthy ghettos of New York, Chicago, Newark, Trenton, Philadelphia, Detroit, etc. etc.

    Ah well. Nothing I can do about it. Or would do, if I could. Like a man said, You are just way, way, way, too much _fun_!!!

    (snickers condescendingly at the stained teeth, foul odor, general vulgarity, and reduced life expectancy of smokers)

  18. Ooh, poor chappie. Chappie doesn’t like to be toyed with.

    Nevertheless, chappie will be toyed with.

    I like the way that chappie, in his stunning but habitual ignorance, conflates the effects of cigar-smoking (occasional, expensive, negligible) with the effects of cigarette-smoking (habitual/compulsive, cheap, ruinous). What on earth chappie could possibly have to condescend to is a mystery to all ladies and gentlemen of breeding and taste. Maybe we can airlift chappie to Pakistan, in plausible if not assured search of something baser than he.

    I particularly like the way this poor excuse for a runny twat keeps parroting and mirroring and cut-n-pasting my own tropes, too lazy and stupid to think of his own.

    Best get yo’ nigras down on de ole trope plantation to grow dem tropes fastah! Dese heah damnyankees up Norf gots dey trope-factories all fired up an’ crankin’ dem out at 3 ta 1!

    Lawzy lawzy, Colonel suh, how will ole Dixie be saved from de rapin’ an’ de maraudin’ of ole Oscah da Yankee, if’n we brave Suvrun men can’t force our nigras to grow dem tropes FASTER?!?

    Lawzy, what’ll we DO?!? Here he comes now, dat mean ole Oscar! Hide po’ Jenny and Jemimah in de basement!!!

    CUE OLD-TIMEY HORROR MOVIE ORGAN STING.
    (To be continued…)

  19. Hehehe, it seems that despite the ugly yellow teeth, the foul breath, dirty fingers, and stench-filled clothing, oscar the clown, has, hilariously, somehow manged to grunt and growl through another “post”. It would be very easy, of course, to dismiss these posts as the incoherent, rage-filled, quasi-literate paroxysms of a miserable antediluvian grobian, and indeed, that is what they are. Nevertheless, his child-like efforts at argument literally give me fits of laughter. Despite his vulgar and grotesque countenance, he resembles a pet that needs to be housebroken.

  20. “Nevertheless his child-like efforts at argument…”

    There’s no argument here, chappie, and there hasn’t been any sort of actual argument on this thread for a long, long time.

    All there is, is me rattling the bars of your cage and jerking that chain that’s around your neck.

    But, like the dumbest of lab rats, you don’t even perceive that you’re in a cage, nor notice the chain.

    Fine with me. By the way, Professor Chang will be along in the lab in just a few hours, to give you your next injection.

    It’s too early to say, of course, but we sense that the results of the experiment will be promising.

    @Rudel: You don’t get to just barge in and smugly announce, ‘You lose.’ I’m busy playing with my prey here, and you are being a nuisance. Price of admission is a joke, and it better be a funny one. Ain’t seen much from you that indicates merit on that score though.

    Story, song, or strip, buster. Them’s the rules, or else piss off out of this little cat and mouse show. Unless you’d like to be Mouse Number Two.

    Caldwell is excused from having to make a decent joke, exactly because he is the object of the exercise.

  21. @Oscar

    Dammit! I was hoping you would continue with the Confederate satire! Continue the story, man! That stuff was hilarious!

  22. “You don’t get to just barge in and smugly announce, ‘You lose.’ I’m busy playing with my prey here, and you are being a nuisance. Price of admission is a joke, and it better be a funny one.”

    Sorry, but that whole trope schtick was weak. As in not funny. You still lose.

  23. @Rudel: You don’t know the rules of the game, it appears. You don’t get to judge what’s funny or not funny until you make a joke yourself. Price of admission, Groucho.

    Until then…
    1) Pussy
    and
    2) FAIL.

    Go ahead, Rickles. Prove me wrong.

  24. Q: What does a Northerner call a game of wits between himself and three southerners?
    A: Solitaire.

    Like that, Rudel. Come on, man, shore up the side! This is getting embarrassing! Well, not for me…

  25. “no argument here, chappie,” and there hasn’t been any sort of actual argument on this thread for a long, long time.”

    Got that right cbuddy boy. Indeed, I am now just openly laughing at you, but tragically, you are far too obtuse to understand. Openly. Laughing. At. You. ( snicker)

    “All there is, is me rattling the bars of your cage and jerking that chain that’s around your neck.”

    This is sad, really. You have now been reduced to outright begging. And on both knees. Have you no shame?

    “But, like the dumbest of lab rats, you don’t even perceive that you’re in a cage, nor notice the chain”

    Is it possible that you are truly this unsophisticated? Perhaps you are persuaded that desperately and wildly hurling mindless similies are effective polemics, but really, you just look cloddish. Cloddish.

    I don’t mean to be overtly cruel to you oscar, but there is absolutely nothing nuanced or alembicated with your unlettered rantings.Sorry, oscar, but the beating I am admistering to you, while humiliating, is proper and just.

  26. Q: What does a Northerer call a game of wits between himself and three southerners?
    A: Solitaire.

    I mean really, how hard was that?

  27. “I mean really, how hard was that?”

    First we get tropes in an ebonics accent and now this. I think I heard that one in like the third grade. This guys game is weak. Very weak.

  28. “First we get tropes in an ebonics accent and now this. I think I heard that one in like the third grade. This guys game is weak. Very weak”

    Whatever ails this fool, is no small matter.

  29. “First we get tropes in an ebonics accent and now this. I think I heard that one in like the third grade. This guys game is weak. Very weak.”

    Stupid comment. Just plain stupid.

  30. “First we get tropes in an ebonics accent and now this. I think I heard that one in like the third grade. This guys game is weak. Very weak.”

    Lame, really lame.

  31. I still see no counter-game, none at all, from Thing One and Thing Two.

    Like I said: pussies both.

    Make me laugh, or crawl back into your caves.

    Put up or shut up.

    If your next comment contains nothing funny, that will be construed as unconditional surrender.

    Next comment, no excuses.

    Do it, or else hike up that skirt and show some thigh to snag that long, long hitched ride home with the leering drunky insurance salesman on that bumpy back road to Arkansas.

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