Flying the Confederate Flag, Proudly, I Presume, In My Town

FORTUNATE IS HE OR SHE WHO, in today's America, sits down to write an article, looks out the window straight on to the square of a tiny, quaint southern American town, and see a confederate flag proudly flapping in the warm summer wind. My question is; the flag seems to fly a bit more than the wind is blowing; could it be that he has a fan in the back of the pick up, whipping it up? Surely not. The turck is quite old, like you would exepct the truck of a southern American redneck to be, and the man himself - well, he certainly looks the part. Here, in my little southern American town, for real. Do I dare go ask him about the fan, or even drive by and look in? Would he shoot me? He's parked right in front of city hall, which is a tiny brick and metal building, as if to remind us, all two thousand of us, of his freedom of speech. Well, whatever. Flying the confederate flag is about as relevant as flying the thirteen star American flag, or the fourteen star, or the forty eight star version, or any of teh roughly forty incarnations, and counting. I always thought, and still do, that Lincoln and the north should have accepted southern cessastion insteas of fighting about it, and should have tolerated the confederacy as a new nation, under God, to the south. Best guess is that eventually the two would have remerged later, due to economic considerations, namely, the fact that the modern world was going, inevitably, one way or another, force an end to confederate enslavement of African-Americans. But I digress. The thought occurs that we make much too much out of flags, and the specifics of speech. Hillary Clinton, speaking near Ferguson, Missouri, shouted profoundly "All lives matter!", a statement which, on the surface, seems true enough to sound hackneyed. But, no. Because Hillary didn't say "all black lives matter", she evidently, according to members of the black community, is forfeiting much support, believe it or not. Picky, picky...don't they understand that the word "all"' means...well, whatever. In my tiny southern town live a total of roughly five or six African-Americans, and as of this writing they have not shown up to protest. I'll keepy y'all posted.