Signs and Marvels

Work currently has taken me far outside my comfort zone and usual stomping grounds of the countryside and the backwoods. Needless to say, it’s been a shocking wake up call to see the invasion with my own two eyes. Generally, I avoid big cities when I can, pretty much all for the same reasons, regardless of their disposition.

Earlier this week, I stopped at a McDonald’s to grab a quick bite, figuring it was the safest option over the smattering of “ethnic” restaurants dotting my current locality. I picked my normal spot in such a place, a location where I could see all the exits and engage in one of my favorite pastimes: people watching. Some might call it undue paranoia, but old habits die hard.  

For a minute, I thought I was in a Third World country, until I remembered I was in my beloved Dixie. The realization brought with it anguish, sadness, and determination. Here I was, the only Dixian in the building, until I noticed another gentleman around my age enter as well. His mannerisms were very much like mine in such situations – get in, get what you came for, and get out. Spend no longer than you have to and don’t engage in chitchat with the newcomers. Unfortunately, this is standard behavior in Junkyard America.

The observation only served to fuel my hidden rage that this is what our so-called “elected officials” have wrought on us. I was in the heart of Dixie, but I was not native to this particular part of the South. While I am a Floridian, it was unusual to feel like a stranger in what should, in essence, be part of my larger home. Many a thought crossed my mind – mostly anger at those that sold out not only Dixie but America as well. If you’re not angry to see your people displaced, your culture destroyed, and feeling like an alien in your own country, then you’re brainwashed or dead inside.

Then, another thought crossed my mind – how these newcomers are analogous to locusts. This trend can be observed here, it can be observed in Europe, and it can be observed elsewhere. This swarm of locusts were drawn here not because of the propaganda of the “American Dream,” but because they are locusts, even in their own homelands. Prosperity is what draws them in, and do they ever descend once they catch a whiff of it. This isn’t their home, it’s ours. Why on Earth are there tons of non-Southerners in small, backcountry towns deep in Dixie?

In this moment, I remembered another observation, one based on my time spent above the Mason-Dixon Linr. I had visited one of those small towns that is now a hollow shell of what is left of Heritage America from the 20th century. Up there, a noticeable lack of locusts was surprisingly clear. While there were a few, they were much more subdued because there were no more crops to feed on. One must keep in mind that these locusts run from their homelands because they are unable to form sustainable prosperity they so want to gorge on.

While some of our own people, folks still deep in their programming, might cheer or celebrate this swarm, I cannot help but feel anguish and disgust. There was a time when the Hispanic population in this country was a measly 4%. Now, look around you. The Wall and Trump’s efforts against this NGO-sponsored invasion army helps, but it’s not enough.

These locusts feel they are entitled to our home, one which we built and we maintain. This is not their home, just as their home is not ours. They must be made to feel unwelcome in the sense that they feel as strangers in a foreign land, much like I was at that lunch. The message must be clear in every way – this is not your home. This is our home! Leave!

In doing so, just as big of an impact as The Wall or an ICE raid will occur. Until then, the swarm will sit in our fields and eat our crops until we have nothing left to take to market. Your folks always said don’t talk to strangers, right? My country folk and kin are not strangers. This swarm, however, is.

God bless you and God bless Dixie.

3 comments

  1. Nice post. I generally avoid eating the food prepared at ‘equal opportunity’ employing fast food joints irrespective of where I’m at, but will admit that now and again I find myself in your predicament and am tempted at least to violate my own principle for the sake of saving time and of convenience. Heavy on the word “tempted” in that sentence, because I’m also usually (as in almost always) able to resist the temptation in lieu of finding a better, more healthy option.

    Your post brought to mind a short passage that I often quote to my ‘inner circle’ of friends and relatives when some of them ‘come crashing into reality,’ all of a sudden discovering that their world has literally been turned upside-down under their noses.:

    It is sad to think how things are changing. In another generation or two, this beautiful country of ours will have lost its distinctive civilization and become no better than a nation of Yankee shopkeepers.

    -Eliza Francis Andrews, The Wartime Journal of a Georgia Girl, pg. 351

  2. my relatively new (4yrs?) WalMart in N. TX, Collin County, in the last yr, feels/looks like NOLA or most any turd wUrld country. this area has always resembled the UN, w/its mix of Indians, E. Asians, my cul-de-sac boasts long term neighbors hailing from France and Guatemala, but its also a high economic ‘caste’.. now we’re just seeing trash peoples, i know some of it is due to proximity of the supercenter’s situation on 75 N. of Dallas proper, we’re 2mi’s away, but this area was the ‘bedroom’ exoburbs, highest taxes, most expensive homes in the area, crime is climbing by leaps/bounds. more/more giant apt. complexes being built, you what those mean… when there are no more Cali in-bounds or transients to fill them, they’ll go Sec8 – under auspices of ‘affordable housing’, and morph into vermin infested, drug dens, replete w/gang warfare. thank God, at least DART doesn’t come up this far out of Dallas, we have enough hyena w/their own transportation.

  3. I feel the same way every time I go downtown. My hometown was about 1,000 population and about 50/50 white/black when I grew up. My parents knew just about every one of them by name and half the rest of the county. My old high school was about 70-75% black, but now Hispanics are the new majority. And I have long likened them to the plague of the locusts in the Bible, because that is exactly the impression I get every time I go to town. Today I had to go inside my bank and I had to spell out my last name to the Hispanic receptionist. My name has been very common in this farming community for many generations, even since NC was a colony, and to think I had to spell it out for someone in my own town is another milestone in our road to perdition. On the phone with a customer service rep from NY or something like that; yeah, of course I usually spell it out an say it twice, but in my own little formerly Mayberrian town? It’s a very big deal because I understand that it is just a tiny little symptom of something very big and bad that I am powerless to stop.

    I am glad that I am not the only Dixian that looks at this brown horde and thinks “plague of the locusts”. It’s not a bad meme to propagate imo. It makes the point quite succinctly and does what dry talk of numbers and trends will never do. It also doesn’t require me to distinguish which country they came from or whether they were born here.

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