After years of demographic negligence in Texas, conservatives are shocked and alarmed that Democrat candidates for governor and US Senate are leading their Republican opponents – Hinojosa over Abbott (49-46) and Talarico over Paxton (50-44) (Democrats lead in Texas Senate, gubernatorial race)


This is the result of the Texas trifecta, the importation of three ethnic groups opposed to the traditional conservative culture of Texans: Yankee-minded Californians, who followed the Big Tech companies as they migrated to greener economic fields in Austin, Dallas, etc.; Muslims from south Asian countries like India and Pakistan, who were also imported to serve the Big Tech corporations; and low-wage workers from south of the Rio Grande to work in agriculture and other low-skilled jobs.


How far has the demographic demolition gone? Dr. Paul Craig Roberts gives the unsettling numbers:


‘White enrollment in the University of Texas, Dallas, has fallen from 43% in 2012 to 19% in 2025.  Asian enrollment has risen from 25% to 42%.


‘ . . . In Dallas’ Coppell school district, white enrollment K-12 has dropped from 65% in 2006 to 22% in 2026.  Asian enrollment has risen from 18% to 57%’ (paulcraigroberts.com).


The Muslims in Texas have grown to such numbers that they openly speak about their plans for the Islamification of their host State and beyond:


‘Shaykh Uthman ibn Farooq laid out a vision for an Islamic America during a livestreamed event at the Sufaraa Center in McKinney, Texas, last week. Authentic Ilm Mission, which hosted the event, has plans for a 40,000-square-foot facility near Plano, Texas, and used the livestream featuring Farooq to fundraise for the multipurpose school and Islamic community center.


‘“We love this country,” Farooq said. “We want good for this country. And that’s why we want Islam for this country, ’cause we think that’s the best thing. And we’re not going to be ashamed of that.”


‘He went on to argue that Muslims are fully within their constitutional rights to adhere to Sharia law. “We’re Muslims. That’s our identity, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The Constitution of this country protects that. That’s our right to believe in the Sharia. Yes, I said it. That’s our right.”


‘ . . . He also warned against compromising Islamic principles, framing the warning in terms of Muslims’ military conquests in Europe. Muslims being driven out of parts of Europe in and around the 1500s demonstrate the consequences of compromise, Farooq said: “Portugal and Spain, Sicily — these areas were under Muslim rule for around 700 years. … When the Muslims went there, one of the leaders of the Muslims … went with sword in hand, iman in heart … The Quran was on their tongues. It was in their hearts. It was in their actions. And Allah made them victorious. Victory after victory until, to the middle of Europe, they were victorious. Seven hundred years of compromise, of trying to accommodate ended with what? the Muslims losing.”


‘ . . . Texas has one of the highest Muslim populations in the United States at more than 300,000, and a significant portion resides in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. The intended site for the Authentic Ilm Mission facility is situated about 20 minutes southwest of the East Plano Islamic Center (EPIC) mosque, which boasts 10,000 members and is embroiled in controversy that garnered nationwide attention with its efforts to establish a Muslim city. The legal battle over EPIC’s planned complex of more than 450 housing plots is ongoing’ (thefederalist.com).


The implications of all of this are not difficult to discern: If a State wants to maintain an identifiable, inheritable European Christian culture, she must keep her demographics mostly European and Christian. Nonetheless, we have been told for years that a strong, growing economy was the greatest end we could work toward as individual States and local communities and as a union of States; and that it was both possible and desirable to allow immigrants from all over the world to come be a part of the ‘economic miracle’. Those were lies. Christendom is much more than an economic engine; and different cultures and religions are not compatible and easily integrated. Do we have enough time and strength of will to correct those decades-long errors? We shall see.

​

In the Book of Revelation a terrible plague is revealed to the Holy Apostle John that will take place near the time of the end of the world: Fire, hail, and blood will fall upon the earth, killing one third of the trees and grasses (Rev 8:7). Modern man, rather than doing everything possible to avoid such a fate, seems to be fulfilling it himself with his use of chemical herbicides.


From the very beginning of the South as a distinct cultural region, she has been described as an image of the Garden of Eden. Such is her natural beauty and bountifulness. But Dixie is coming to resemble more the image of Gehenna, of desolation, as our people wage chemical warfare on the natural world. Dead grass and saplings, completely barren patches of dirt, the decline in once abundant critters like lightning bugs, dirt dobbers, and grandaddy longlegs, the horrendous spike in cancer cases in farm communities – this is the New South we are creating.


Nature is not an adversary to be conquered, but we have been treating her like one. The attitude Southerners once had toward the creation is expressed well by a recent saint of the Orthodox Church, Elder Joseph the Hesychast, who fell asleep in the Lord in 1959. In a letter to one of his spiritual sons, he invites him to spend some time with him in the countryside:


‘We will speak with God and about God. Come and enjoy Him Whom you miss. Listen to the wild boulders, those secret and silent theologians, while they develop deep thoughts for you and guide you, mind and heart, to the Creator. . . . The voiceless theologians theologize, the beautiful rocks and all of creation, each with its own voice or with its voicelessness. . . . Everything here has a voice and, with the blowing of the wind, as they are moved, they join together in a harmonious musical doxology towards God’ (Herman Middleton, Precious Vessels of the Holy Spirit, Protecting Veil, 2011, p. 117).


‘The heavens declare the glory of God,’ writes the Psalmist (Ps. 19:1). And not only the heavens. The whole of creation, says Elder Joseph, offers her praise to God. By our actions of late here at the South, we have been silencing that wonderful choir of creation, burning millions of acres with millions of pounds of herbicides. That is reprehensible.


There is a better way. Organic gardening and farming associations are now widespread across the South. The federal government under Robert F. Kennedy, Jr, is promoting regenerative agriculture. We should continue in this direction.


Eden has become obscured in Dixie, lost in the haze of glyphosate, atrazine, and dicamba. But with repentance toward God and sacrificial love for His creation, we can recover the vision of her in a new blaze of beauty. May the Lord bless our efforts. Amen.

Just when it appeared that Dixie couldn’t sink any lower into the abysmal depths of Americanism, the Republican voters of South Carolina found a way to delve even deeper into it with the selection of a blatant non-entity like Darline Graham to be their nominee for the United States Senate:


‘And the final week of the truncated, two-week runoff campaign was dominated by Graham’s blunder at a debate with Norman where she replied that she was “not that informed on national security” when asked whether Taiwan and the South China Sea were important national security priorities.


‘“National security is not my thing,” she said.’

Louisiana’s Republican voters did mostly the same with the nomination of Julia Letlow for a Senate seat; Texas has been sending the dishonest, self-serving Ted Cruz to the Senate since 2012; etc.


Blindness, delusion – Southerners are unable to see clearly which path to take to attain their best interests, or to even understand what those essential interests are. It would take a singularly divine act at this point to turn things around.


In this age, still so full of skepticism, few will accept the possibility of such a miraculous act. But many are noted throughout Christian history. And one is particularly relevant to a stumbling, unseeing Southland.


In a difficult moment during the Greek War for Independence from the Turks, the Greeks were confronted with the seemingly impossible task of taking the Palamidi Fortress. Into this hopelessness entered two saints of the Lord Jesus Christ – the Holy Apostle Andrew, well-known to Southrons (his X-shaped cross adorns our flag) and the Holy Martyr Phanourios of Rhodes. St Phanourios, a soldier, witnessed for Christ during the Roman persecutions, but his life and sacrifice went unremembered until the 14th century, when an ancient icon depicting scenes from his life was discovered in the ruins of a church on the island of Rhodes. His veneration quickly spread, and he (who had been forgotten for so long) became well-known for helping people find lost things. And it is that particular gift of his that was so important for the Greeks at the desperate moment in their war with the Turks which we have just mentioned:


‘The veneration of Saint Phanourios occupies a unique space within Greek Orthodox folklore. Unlike many military or monastic saints whose legacies were codified in homilies or formal ecclesiastical historiography, Saint Phanourios exists primarily through the lens of lived experience and communal practice. The hallmark of his devotion is the baking of the phanouropita, a vegan cake made with seven or nine ingredients, which functions as a domestic ritual of intercession, traditionally associated with the recovery of lost objects, openning of closed paths, or offering prayers for his legendary, unrepentant mother. Alexandros Papadiamantis beautifully preserved this folklore and act of piety in his 1899 short story, Goutou Goupatou, recording the custom of offering a cake while quietly praying, "God forgive the mother of Saint Phanourios." Yet, when this same underlying folklore interacted with the localized realities of Nafplio, the concept of a saint who "reveals" (phaneronei) underwent a profound, civic transformation, shifting from a private domestic prayer into a literal catalyst for the Greek War of Independence.


‘To understand how Nafplio adapted this devotional framework into a pillar of its own historical narrative, one must look to the strategic crisis facing the Greek forces in late November 1822. For months, the revolutionary army under the supreme command of Theodoros Kolokotronis had laid siege to the city, stymied by its formidable crowning defense: the Palamidi Fortress. Engineered by Venetian builders with eight self-contained bastions atop a steep, 216-meter cliff, the citadel was structurally designed to be entirely impregnable to direct frontal assault. The rebel forces commanded by Staikos Staikopoulos faced dwindling provisions, bitter winter conditions, and an architectural barrier that defied conventional nineteenth-century military mechanics.


‘Under the cover of a severe storm on November 29, 1822, an operational reconnaissance group managed to identify an unmapped vulnerability—a steep, treacherous, and unguarded mountain fissure winding through the sheer rock toward the Achilles bastion. While modern military history records this as a lucky break coupled with an oversight by a complacent Ottoman garrison, the deeply pious Greek soldiers interpreted the event through their faith. Because the name Phanourios was etymologically and culturally bound to the Greek verb for "to reveal" (phanerono), the sudden uncovering of this invisible pathway was immediately perceived not as strategic chance, but as a divine act of illumination by the Saint himself, answering their collective prayers by revealing a hidden path to freedom.


‘Staikopoulos and an eighty-man army scaled the precipice in total darkness, caught the guard force entirely by surprise, and secured the unconditional surrender of the fortress by the morning of November 30. Because the final surrender coincided precisely with the feast day of Saint Andrew, the central chapel within the fortress walls was immediately re-consecrated in his honor, permanently securing Saint Andrew's place in official state historiography. Popular devotion, however, retained its own parallel collective memory. While state chronicles celebrated the victory on November 30, the families of the combatants and the citizens of the newly liberated capital focused heavily on the crucial hours preceding the breach, attributing the terrifying night climb and the revelation of the path itself to the spiritual oversight of Saint Phanourios.’


The folk sense of gratitude to St Phanourios has shown itself year after year ever since that pivotal battle:


‘Even today, small cliffside icons dot the lower pathways around the Palamidi Fortress, serving as physical markers of the vertical ascent that redefined modern Greek history. This rich heritage culminates in a vibrant communal ritual every August 26-27. On the eve and morning of his feast day, the steep walkways leading to the Palamidi foothills and the courtyard of Evangelistria fill with dozens of local families carrying beautifully decorated, homemade phanouropites to be formally blessed by the clergy.’


The South is no longer engaged in a hot war with her captors. It has long since shifted into a spiritual and cultural war. Nevertheless, like the Greeks before Palamidi Fortress, traditional Southerners are unable to see the weak point to attack the un-Christian, globalist/Yankee Empire that would allow them to wriggle free of it.


That is no reason to despair. We have many helpers in Heaven – saints and angels – upon whom we may call: St Alfred, St Columba, the Chief of the Bodiless Hosts Michael, Holy Apostle Andrew, Sts Ebba, Ludmilla, and Brigid, amongst many others – and now a new helper, St Phanourios. Reacquainting ourselves with these Christian saints is an essential part of our escape from Yankee domination. They will help Dixie see what has eluded her, that she may receive spiritual and physical blessings. The Greeks in the episode related above confirm this.


We do not know how long we will wait in dire straits before the seemingly invincible Empire before the Lord sends help to us through one or more of them, or just what the help will consist of. Let us remain watchful, then, like the Wise Virgins of the Gospel, ready to take advantage of whatever aid is offered, and, just as importantly, ready to return thanksgiving in perpetuity for the aid given us by God through His holy ones.​

​Humor has always been a defining feature of the South. From Longstreet’s Georgia Scenes and Harris’s Sut Lovingood yarns to Jerry Clower, Lewis Grizzard, and Jeff Foxworthy, Southerners love to put a stitch in one another’s side from laughter.


Even though much of Southern culture has waned, it has not altogether disappeared, and the continuation of the Southern tradition of good comedy is proof enough of that. The latest to carry on that comedic lineage is Nate Bargatze. Born and raised in the city conspicuous for the Vanderbilt Agrarians (his mother actually worked at Vanderbilt University) – Nashville, Tennessee – he was raised in the not unusual Southern environment of a Christian family: ‘Stephen and Carol raised their three children—Nate, his brother, Derek, and his sister, Abigail—in a strict Christian household. . . . He attended DuPont Elementary in Nashville and transferred to Donelson Christian Academy, where his father had a day job teaching history.’


His Christian upbringing and his piety toward his parents imparted to him a desire to be a ‘clean comedian’:


‘Bargatze has said he was only allowed to watch clean comedians growing up, with Brian Regan becoming one of his primary inspirations. “I just can’t imagine cursing in front of your parents,” Bargatze said in 2023. “Still, even now… I still just couldn’t do that. So that’s how I write. I think I write my comedy to—a lot of it is to make my parents laugh.”’


He dropped out of college and sojourned in a land not his own (i.e., Yankeedom – Boston, Chicago, and the like), seeking to hone his craft and find his place in the comedy world. But he eventually found his way back to his native Dixieland, where he has aspirations to broaden his brand of comedy into other fields:


‘The comedian also has aspirations to build a “Nateland” theme park, inspired by and located at the site of the defunct Opryland USA in Nashville. He lists entertainment magnate Walt Disney as one of his primary inspirations. “I want to make some movies and continue to tour and then hopefully build a world here,” he told The Tennessean. “You see Universal Studios. I kind of would like that to be a Nateland. We can have rides and start making movies here. I think I know what is missing in entertainment, and I think this would work.”’


Some films made with a bit of Southern character would be quite welcome. But that may be a little ways off yet.


However, his style of humble stand-up comedy devoid of the usual raunch associated with most other such routines today is finding an eager and growing audience. Mr. Bargatze is now one of the highest earning entertainers in the world:


‘He is currently the #1 earning comedian in the world according to Pollstar, and #12 in overall live tour tickets sales, putting him in the company of Coldplay, Madonna and U2. Billboard recently announced Bargatze set a new record for the biggest one-year gross by a comedy performer in history.’


‘In 2023, Bargatze broke the attendance record at Bridgestone Arena in Nashville. The next month, he also broke the record for tickets sold at The Delta Center in Salt Lake City – the highest amount ever sold by a comedian at the venue. In 2024 he broke 20 total arena records.’


The story of Mr. Bargatze is certainly encouraging for anyone looking for signs of life from Southern culture. One of the greatest threats to that culture, however, is the desire of many Southerners to be part of ‘America’. The obsession with that abstraction we see even in what should be strongholds of exclusively Southern concerns like the Sons of Confederate Veterans, where many a prayer are offered for God’s blessing and guidance upon it.


This is most unfortunate, as to be subsumed into that beastly thing greatly weakens our ties to our ancestors, to our homes and neighborhoods, to Church, to family graves, to most everything that defines us as Southerners. For America is preeminently about throwing off any custom or restraint for the sake of making a buck. The younger folks seem to understand this; they are hungry to discover an identity rooted in ancestors, place, etc. The older generations, who were subjected to years of pro-America propaganda during WWII and the Cold War, by and large do not.


What is interesting is that Nate Bargatze, in some of the funnier sketches to air on Saturday Night Live in recent years, exposed that danger for all to see. We are speaking about his Washington’s Dream sketches, in which Mr. Bargatze plays General Washington, who waxes eloquent to his band of soldiers about all the shallow idiocies that he hopes will come to pass in the United States.


Washington’s Dream


Washington’s Dream 2


Nate Bargatze is undeniably a talented Southern comedian. What he may also be is something of a prophet – warning Southrons not to remain tightly bound to a union that threatens so many good things about Southern life. May God give Dixians ears to hear the prophetic word.

Biography: Nate Barzgate​

Nateland

King Oswald and his host of men
Radiantly shine as they ride
In the blazing golden light
Of August’s sun. Victorious
By the Cross and Saint Columba’s prayers
At Heavenfield, fellow-worker
With Holy Aidan to spread the Gospel
In the realm of Northumberland,
Oswald hastens to his doom at Maserfield,
Struck down by pagan Penda
By the Providence of God –
The good falling to the wicked.
His beautiful body was dismembered,
But many miracles are wrought
By the sacred severed relics,
Keeping at bay the darkness of despair.
The South, near death, sees the light
Beaming from this new sun of righteousness,
From deathless Martyr Oswald,
Enthroned now with Christ in Paradise,
Through swollen eyes of battered head.
Being united to God,
Oswald’s light throbs with Life.
The South senses it, yearns for it,
Stretches forth a weak hand
Dripping with blood to grasp it . . .


. . . A spark of pain as Grace touches
The gravely wounded body,
Quickening it.
Slowly, slowly,
She begins to rise.

​My grandmother who lived the longest
I knew for the shortest span of time.
Ninety-six when you left this life,
Only thirty or so of your latter years
Did we have to spend together
After you appeared suddenly
In my family’s life, like a flash in the sky,
As the mysteries of Momma’s birth
And adoption were resolved,
And we met you at the Davis Brothers roadside
Restaurant there in Georgia’s Appalachian foothills
On a late spring Southern evening.
Overflowing with kindness and encouragement
In this life, patiently bearing your final trials,
Now you are receiving the rewards
Of your faith in Christ in Paradise,
Where saints and angels and all Christian folk
Rejoice in the Presence of the Trinity
And enjoy the foretaste of blessings to come
After the Lord’s return and the renewal of all things.
Here in your absence, life goes on,
A continual Goodbye to everyone we know,
Memory mingled with pain
For our inability to keep them close by:
Photographs, videos, voices, each a stab
Of nostalgia as they glide before eyes and ears
Or arise in the eyes of the mind.
‘Wish I could see you’ –
Some of your last words spoken to me,
Traversing the many miles between us
Over the telephone line.
Now, your soul separated
From your body for a time,
I believe you can, should the Lord allow it.
And through prayers to God for you,
A small reunion takes place here today
In anticipation of the greater one
After death and time are abolished
And the mystical Kingdom of God
Fills the cosmos to the uttermost.

After years of intensive training in the aforesaid places together with successful public performances, Emy-Lou’s first international performance of note came in London in 1931 at Wigmore Hall. Performing a mix of classical and contemporary songs, from Schubert to John Alden Carpenter, she received high praise from the music critics in England:


‘The June 26, 1931 Daily Telegraph stated, “There can be no question that Mme. Biedenharn is an artist of high distinction” while the Juen 27 The Times declared Emy-Lou “possessed a contralto voice of unusual richness and beauty.” The June 26 Sunday Times also said Emy-Lou had a “rich, malleable contralto” which caused the songs she sang to be “brought . . . fresh to the ear and the consciousness.”’


In the wake of these positive reviews, Emy-Lou began planning for a series of performances in other European countries. In a touching tribute to her grandmother Louisa, Emy-Lou chose Copenhagen, Denmark, as the city for her first performance in continental Europe. Others would follow in Germany and the Netherlands. The reviews again were overwhelmingly positive. One from the Hague included these lines:


‘We have rarely heard such a glorious contralto voice, shining with the power of youth and gripping us with the sensitive charm of its noble material. There was a wonderful equalizing of the voice in the whole of its wide range; a natural musicianship, warmth of feeling and an interpretation devoid of all cheapness. Great things are to be expected from this singer, and we will watch her development keenly.’


From 1931 to 1939 Emy-Lou would travel throughout Europe, delighting audiences with that ‘glorious contralto voice’. In 1936 she would begin singing in operas, her first performance being in Verdi’s Rigoletto in London.

Despite this fame and attention, despite acquaintances and friends within the highest echelons of European and United States societies – even with members of royal families – Emy-Lou remained a level-headed, down-to-earth Southern woman. Throughout her years of touring as a professional singer, she always made time to go home to Monroe to spend time with her family and friends, especially during the Christmas season. While at home, she would give liberally of her time and talents, singing at concerts held at churches and school auditoriums for various benevolent causes.


Like her grandparents, she proudly identified herself as a Southerner and praised her land and people. In an interview with the Musical Courier she pronounced,


‘“My home is very dear to me,” she said, “and as soon as I set foot on American soil my first thought is to turn southward. Of course, I always loved it there, but I think one must go away—to school, to travel, to live for a few years—before the fine, distinctive flavor of life in our American South is fully appreciated. There is an atmosphere of graciousness, of responsiveness and tradition that is not found elsewhere, however many compensating advantages other countries and localities may offer.”’


As a Southerner, she had a deep love of nature. It is illustrated well in this touching description Emy-Lou penned of the sycamore tree that stood in front of the Biedenharn’s Monroe house:


‘Mr. Joe’s tree, we called it. For as long as I can remember, Father would take my hand and we would stand very still under the big sycamore . . . and listen—just listen. It was almost as when David sang in his Psalms, “Be still and know that I am God.” For it seemed a sacred moment as we stood so still and silently listened to nature. There is always a stir of breeze, and of sound, in a sycamore tree. . . . Looking skyward, Father and I would silently love the slick white branches of the Sycamore against the deep blue summer sky.’


And no Southern story is complete without acts of reverence for ancestors. Emy-Lou and some of her family would seek out their relatives in their ancestral homelands of Germany and Denmark during Emy-Lou’s years of professional singing in Europe. The reunions are beautiful, with one of the German relatives showing the same blue eyes of Emy-Lou’s father, the descriptions of the house where Herman Biedenharn was born, along with the Christmas celebration in the little German village of Neuenkirchen. And in Denmark, they received old photographs of Joe’s grandparents during a warm visit with cousins and also got to see the old Lutheran Church where the Lundberg family attended and where Joe’s grandparents were married.


Such are Southerners – never far removed from their past.