ed. Note: the following was discovered in the personal effects of Targus Cleftson, who died earlier this year at age 174 in an Alabama prison. He was the last remaining veteran of the Civil War.

When I was a young boy, I didn't have too many friends. It didn't help that I had that hump on my back, or that my Daddy was the town drunk. When you grow up in the sweltering heat of Tungsten, Alabama, you learn to persevere. That, or go watch the slaves pick cotton. That helps you feel superior real quick.
Not now, though. Not since that bastard Lincoln stopped us Rebels.
Anyway, I was a pretty lonely kid. But I certainly was interested in politics. Yessir. I went to every town meeting, and I even wrote a letter once to my congressman, Cletus Van Ostrum. Of course, I didn't know how to read or write. I just smeared some mud and ants on a piece of paper and threw it at the mailman. I'm sure Mr. Van Ostrum got the gist of it.
Being as into politics as I was, I took a liking to reading the papers. Like I said, I was illiterate. So I just looked at the pictures. One day, there was this picture of a beautiful flag. It was light gray, with a big dark gray "X" in the middle. And there were white stars in the "X!" I thought it was so pretty. I asked my Ma about it. I asked her: "Ma, what's this purty thing here?" She says to me, "Targus, goddamn it, boy! Shut the fuck up and go harvest some more pig shit! We got to eat tonight!" I went up to my dad, and I said, "Dad, what's this I'm pointing at?" He said to me, "Son, that there is the Confederate Flag. Someday, when we get our gumption, us Southerners will create a new political paradise for racists and morons." I thought that was so wondrous. I was about to leave when my father continued:
"Ironically, we will lose a war in defense of that political dream. At least on paper. In reality, the conditions that made slavery possible will persist, and it will be nearly a hundred years before real efforts are made at any level to create equality between the races down here. By then we will be clinging to guns and religion as a refuge from our irrelevance on the world stage."
I grinned at my dad. He continued.
"Of course, the North will be no better. They'll pretend to not see race for a long time, even if it takes them just as long to make any sort of real racial progress. And who will control more of this country politically? Us."
I smiled some more.
"And by us, I mean our descendants. You and I will be long dead by then."
I grinned even wider. Little did he know I had drank a longevity serum not one week before that Old Missus Bryson had left on the window-sill to cool. You see, I loved the Confederate flag. And I wanted to live to see the day when the South would disproportionately skew the political leanings of the U.S. as a whole on topics as diverse as gay rights, abortion, foreign affairs, health care, and human rights.
Looks like I win.