Never would've taken a good old boy like you for the passive-aggressive type, TEK. But that's twice now that you pussied out on naming names.
I guess you're the new, sensitive breed of southern boy. You still kill your own food, jerk beef, drink corn liquor, spit tobacco, fuck your sister, wear wranglers and calf ropin' boots that haven't been in style since Charlie Pride last had a hit; and you still breed them fightin' dogs that a century and a half ago your great grand papy used to keep those Carolina niggers from getting any big ideas. But now it's only about the dogs terrorizing each other, pseudo rugged individualism, shooting gear, toiling against the iron in an effort to convince others that your a man's man, and singing We Shall Overcome with you black brothers. And all the while avoiding confrontation.
The last straw? Heard that before too.