Hick of Hillbillies Hullabaloo
©1999 Harrison Information Systems
March 1, 1999
A high school near my digs has recently become the center of unwanted attention over the school mascots: Warriors and Squaws. Many trees have given their all on this subject so I'll leave it alone and touch on something else in the politically correct arena: Hillbillies.
I'm really frosted at the treatment we've been receiving in the media so I'm forming the Sons and Daughters of Appalachia Miffed About Discrimination (SADAMAD), not to be confused with the League of Itinerant and Belligerent Mountaineers (LIBM). As the original high-tech redneck, I am spreading this warning throughout cyberspace. We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it anymore.
Every time I turn on the tube there's some pitiful Southern accent trying to play hillbilly, and nearly every role shown is that of psychosexualpervertslasherdude. Geez, if we were as sexually weird as the media portrays us, then we'd never be able to breed and Hollywood wouldn't have us to kick around. A prime example of bias occurred a few years back on a t.v. miniseries as the camera followed this really bad guy as he killed, raped, and rampaged. When he talked, he sounded just like my second cousin Jethro. When those witty, null-accented cops finally ran him to ground, we learned who and from whence the dastardly dude hailed. Nope. No. Not there either. Would you believe San Francisco? Having left neither heart nor skin cell in the City by the Bay, I can only assume that there is not a nest of hillbillies somewhere in those hills. (Or would it be a hick of hillbillies?)
Being Politically Correct might have some virtue in some circumstances but I think that being polite is more important. The first five thousand times someone called me fat I was hurt, but then I got over it. Now, I don't care if I'm fat or horizontally enhanced. Words might hurt, but in and of themselves, words don't kill. ( Uh-oh, cliché coming on— "That which does kill us…") We can't legislate "Thou Shalt Not Hurt" anymore than "Don't Do That; It's Bad." The Brothers of the Right maintain that all politically correct speech is linked directly to victimpsychosis; that is, everyone is trying to figure out how to become a victim. They might just be on to something.
Anyway, I'm worried about the negative image being portrayed of hillbillies. Some people think all we do is dance around bare-footed drinking high-quality fuel from little brown jugs while fiddling and fantasizing about Ned Beatty. I can assure you that only a few of us actually shoot hog rifles into the air for amusement (and most of them live right close by me). Maybe what we need to do is what the rednecks did.
Heck, I remember when being a redneck was an insult. (Note: to a professional football team— think of the possibilities— only a few minor uniform changes, a happy Jesse Helms.) So what'd the rednecks do? Rather than sitting around taking it, they turned out music celebrating beer and fast cars, sold it, convinced people Hee Haw was funny, hired Jeff Foxworthy, went smokeless before everyone else, put two bubbas in the White House (no, not her), and boosted Monday night wrestlings' ratings enough to chew into the prize cash cow of the NFL. Now, redneck is chic. (Well, I guess 'backker dribbles are still somewhat gauché.)
So, beware. Hillbillies everywhere are going to think positive, hire consultants, file lawsuits (if we can figger-out the difference 'tween a hillbilly and a redneck), and give everyone three years to straighten-out. And if that doesn't work… Suuuuuueeeeeeyyy.
March 1, 1999
A high school near my digs has recently become the center of unwanted attention over the school mascots: Warriors and Squaws. Many trees have given their all on this subject so I'll leave it alone and touch on something else in the politically correct arena: Hillbillies.
I'm really frosted at the treatment we've been receiving in the media so I'm forming the Sons and Daughters of Appalachia Miffed About Discrimination (SADAMAD), not to be confused with the League of Itinerant and Belligerent Mountaineers (LIBM). As the original high-tech redneck, I am spreading this warning throughout cyberspace. We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it anymore.
Every time I turn on the tube there's some pitiful Southern accent trying to play hillbilly, and nearly every role shown is that of psychosexualpervertslasherdude. Geez, if we were as sexually weird as the media portrays us, then we'd never be able to breed and Hollywood wouldn't have us to kick around. A prime example of bias occurred a few years back on a t.v. miniseries as the camera followed this really bad guy as he killed, raped, and rampaged. When he talked, he sounded just like my second cousin Jethro. When those witty, null-accented cops finally ran him to ground, we learned who and from whence the dastardly dude hailed. Nope. No. Not there either. Would you believe San Francisco? Having left neither heart nor skin cell in the City by the Bay, I can only assume that there is not a nest of hillbillies somewhere in those hills. (Or would it be a hick of hillbillies?)
Being Politically Correct might have some virtue in some circumstances but I think that being polite is more important. The first five thousand times someone called me fat I was hurt, but then I got over it. Now, I don't care if I'm fat or horizontally enhanced. Words might hurt, but in and of themselves, words don't kill. ( Uh-oh, cliché coming on— "That which does kill us…") We can't legislate "Thou Shalt Not Hurt" anymore than "Don't Do That; It's Bad." The Brothers of the Right maintain that all politically correct speech is linked directly to victimpsychosis; that is, everyone is trying to figure out how to become a victim. They might just be on to something.
Anyway, I'm worried about the negative image being portrayed of hillbillies. Some people think all we do is dance around bare-footed drinking high-quality fuel from little brown jugs while fiddling and fantasizing about Ned Beatty. I can assure you that only a few of us actually shoot hog rifles into the air for amusement (and most of them live right close by me). Maybe what we need to do is what the rednecks did.
Heck, I remember when being a redneck was an insult. (Note: to a professional football team— think of the possibilities— only a few minor uniform changes, a happy Jesse Helms.) So what'd the rednecks do? Rather than sitting around taking it, they turned out music celebrating beer and fast cars, sold it, convinced people Hee Haw was funny, hired Jeff Foxworthy, went smokeless before everyone else, put two bubbas in the White House (no, not her), and boosted Monday night wrestlings' ratings enough to chew into the prize cash cow of the NFL. Now, redneck is chic. (Well, I guess 'backker dribbles are still somewhat gauché.)
So, beware. Hillbillies everywhere are going to think positive, hire consultants, file lawsuits (if we can figger-out the difference 'tween a hillbilly and a redneck), and give everyone three years to straighten-out. And if that doesn't work… Suuuuuueeeeeeyyy.
posted by Bob Harrison | 10:07 AM
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