Common Sense Reflections of an American Redneck

By Edward Thames

Common Sense Reflections of an American Redneck is a collection of common sense articles, essays and observations accumulated over the last ten years about any and everything I wanted to write about. Friends have asked why I have identified myself as a redneck. They argued that it would do nothing to help the book sales. The dictionary defines the term redneck as an often disparaging Americanism: a slang term, usually for a rural white southerner who is politically conservative, and a religious fundamentalist. This term is generally considered offensive. It originated in reference to agricultural workers, alluding to how the back of a person's neck will be burned by the sun if he works long hours in the fields, AKA mule farmers. There almost always the additional descriptions of bigot or reactionary, terms that have with time and special emphasis from the liberal left have also become associated with the rural working class; more pointedly the white working class. The effort to demean the working American using words hasn't worked and the term Redneck has evolved beyond being offensive and acquired coolness of its own that has nothing to do with bigotry or racism but a fundamental realization of the average American that God (not religion), independence, hard work, and family are the roots of American society and the keys to our greatness. That is the essence of America. God love America despite our politicians, the media and those who enjoy all that America is and offers with hate filled hearts. To answer the question poised earlier as to why I identified myself as a redneck I reply because I am politically conservative and a religious fundamentalist who was raised in the Deep South from a long line of farmers and bootleggers. So by definition I am a redneck. These are my thoughts and reflections. If you don’t like them or don’t agree; too damn bad!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Thames
• Release date: Jun 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311592781

Edward Thames

Edward was born in Plaquemine Parish, Louisiana. He grew up moving from place to place never living in the same location more than two years. He attended various Universities majoring in Pre-Med, creative writing, film making and foreign languages. After winning several writing awards he discovered Information Technology and achieved thirty-four separate technical certifications. He has worked as a contract technical trainer for the last ten years. He has written seven screenplays and five novels. He presently lives in Spring, Texas.

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Common Sense reflections of an American Redneck

By

Edward Thames

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Edward Thames on Smashwords

Common Sense reflections of an American Redneck

Copyright © 1995 by Edward Thames

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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To all Americans and the sacrifices they have made for each other. God bless America! Also to Audray and the American Tradition of drinks on the patio every Friday night!

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Truth has become a Stranger

Ed's Best

Brain Transference

Loose Brain Syndrome

It is time to stop!

Dumb Asses are everywhere!

A Note to Congress

Life Time

Such is Our Media Today

Extraordinary Claims

Problem with Hollywood

Conservative or Liberal?

Robbing a Bank

Lying

The Wisdom of Crowds

There is a price to pay

The Illusion of Security

Propaganda

Retribution

Foreign Aid? What about Americans?

"We the People…..

Pundit Opinions, People with oversized heads, or Facts?

The Right of Recall

More Lies!

Ethic of Reciprocity

The Right of the People

Climate of Fear! The weapon of choice.

Deceit!

Death

Polls, polls, everywhere there are polls!

Just who did we elect president?

Is nuclear power the answer?

Simple Health Care Reform

Social Media is an illusion

Trust No One

The Virtuous Lie

Independence for the Independent!

We are not the Enemy!

Credit Scores: Extortion of the Common American by Corporate America

How to boil a Frog

America is waking up!

Reading is Fundamental

Congressional Healthcare Program

Healthcare Crisis! Crisis or Corruption?

I can't help it; I wish I were my avatar!

Goodbye Y!

Older job seekers struggling with the age barrier.

Good Shepherds?

Reality TV; An obsession or the first sign of dementia?

Who can you believe?

The illusion of justice!

The Race Card Again?

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Common Sense reflections of an American Redneck

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TRUTH HAS BECOME A STRANGER

I remember as a child being raised that a man’s word was truly the only thing he ever really possessed. As a man you were judged not on the position you held in life, your education level, or the number of possessions you managed to acquire but on the recognized integrity of your word and the honor required to always speak the truth and stand behind your words. A respect that was earned through a consistent life of integrity and a profound honesty that was common at the time. As a child in the deep swamps of Plaquemines Parish, Louisiana such lessons were often demonstrated in practical life. One time when I was about eight years old I was fishing with a childhood friend along the banks of a bayou out from Port Sulphur. I probably need to clarify that fishing was really not considered a sport as much as a way many of the folks fed their family. In many cases it was the only work available except for hunting or trapping. There was always the additional means of making money such as hunting gators or catching snakes for the miscellaneous medical researcher but those were rather specialized since a mistake in either case could prove fatal. While we were fishing we would occasionally hear a muffled explosion. We decided to ease on down the bayou and see what was going on. About fifty yards down we saw a pirogue (pronounced many ways, but usually pero, or perog). I recognized the solo occupant as a Cajun man called Fred Smith. He was a commercial fisherman which is to say he fished to feed his family. As we watched he would calmly light a short stick of dynamite and drop it into the water. A few seconds later the water would boil up, releasing a muffled explosion and dozens of fish would float to the surface. Fred would net his catch and move to another location and repeat the process until he had enough to sell to buy the essentials as well as feed his family. We watched as he moved on down the bayou and followed when suddenly, a shiny, new, Game Warden’s truck appeared on the bank on the far side of the bayou and slid to a stop about 40 feet from the water. The Game Warden, a big man jumped out of the truck stomped down to the edge of the bayou. He started screaming at Fred that he was under arrest and to pull his boat over to the bank. Fred saw him and continued fishing as we watched. We had heard about the new Federal Game Warden the government had just sent down from Washington D.C. to clean up the parish of all the illegal fishing and hunting. Fred continued fishing. The Game Warden was getting really upset because Fred was not complying. I remember the Game Warden screaming about the authority of the Federal Government and how he was going to confiscate Fred’s boat and everything he owned. Finally Fred stopped fishing and looked long and hard at the Game Warden who had pulled his gun and was waving it about. Fred finally said, Mister you need to quiet down, you’re scaring the fish. This only seemed to infuriate the Game Warden even more as he pointed the gun at Fred and demanded he pull the boat to the shore. The Game Warden fired what everyone now knows as a warning shot. Fred asked the Game Warden not to do that anymore or he would come over and shoot him. The Game Warden let go another round. Fred paused and looked hard at the Game Warden.

He cranked up his trolling motor and pointed the pero toward the bank. It was about this time we decided to make tracks out of the area. I was amazed when the Game Warden holstered his gun and waited for Fred’s boat to get to the bank. I didn’t know how the rest of the world understood it but down in the swamps if someone tells you they are going to shoot you should take it as the gospel and get the hell out of there. Evidently, in Washington D.C. it means something else. Anyway was we were moving back into the brush I watched as Fred‘s boat hit the bank. Fred pulled out his snake pistol, a little 38, and shot the Game Warden. I remember the Game Warden looked surprised as he fell to the ground. Fred climbed out of his boat, took the Game Warden’s gun and helped him to his truck. The Game Warden was whining as Fred helped him. Quit your whining. I told you I’d shoot you if you didn’t quiet down. As we moved further away I heard Fred tell the Game Warden I warned you. Next time you better listen. Now get on down the road. Fred turned around went back to his boat and started fishing again." The Game Warden wasn’t shot bad and he drove off.

I later heard they sent an army of Government folks down to find Fred but never did. Everyone knows if you know your way around the swamps and you don’t want to be found you won’t be found. They looked for a good long while but eventually gave up. They did post an artist rendering of Fred in the Post Office in Port Sulphur. It all seems kind of stupid now. I thought for a while the Game Warden was just dumb but over time I realized he just never met a man who actually does what he says he’ll do. I guess men in Washington D.C. just don’t understand what it means when a man does exactly what he says he’ll do. I guess a man who actually tells the truth has become a stranger to folks in Washington D.C.

Ed's Best

I happened to have the good fortune or misfortune depending on your perspective to have graduated from high school at the tender age of fifteen years. Most colleges at the time required all potential students be at least seventeen years of age and completed the required coursework as prescribed by the Department of Education. Due to my SAT scores and because my grandfather was a tenured professor at the college they allowed me entry. My father was a renowned bootlegger in the state and his moonshine was considered some of the