Yesterday, my new blog friend The Portly Politico, wrote about how it seems that the old rural South is dying, saying this:
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the changing, dying rural communities I observed on a trip through western South Carolina. You’re not supposed to say as much, but I don’t like that the culture and the world I grew up in are changing. I’m not sure when it became taboo to say, “This is my home and these are my kin,” but apparently that’s no longer acceptable if you’re a conservative Christian in the American South, especially if you’re a white man.
I both understand and sympathize. As a child of the far upper midwest (North of Fargo) transferred to the far agricultural edge of Chicagoland, the shoe fits extraordinarily well. In truth, out here in the middle of Nebraska feels more like home than…
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