Speak Southern, Y’all!
(For All of Us Who Are Sick of These Transplants and Half-Backs Trying to Tell Us How to Live! - DD)
A fish knows when it is out of water; if it knows its natural habitat is water, I have no idea. A pig knows that being clean is an oddity and will wallow in the mud at first chance. Fire ants attack absolutely anything that touches their mound, that which is not part of their colony, even other ants. These are the natural inclinations of creatures that are self-aware. They know, by instinct, what they are and where they belong. But not all creatures possess such agency.
The hordes of recent refugees to Dixie are clueless as to their lack of suitably to our environment. Their non-Southern ways are quite conspicuous, and we are to blame. It is our upbringing, for we are a most hospitable people, and that hospitality postpones the natural assimilation of the foreigner.
Clearly, when I write “foreigner,” I’m not only talking about those who have immigrated from South and Central America, Asia, or even Africa. No sir! Most assuredly included in that rabble are Yankees, Mid-Westerners, and Californians. I’m sure some are very nice people, and in a few generations their offspring will speak with a twang and a drawl just as we do. That is, if we preserve our…