Category: This great Nation & Its People

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Will’s Redneck Rentals By Will Dabbs, MD

New York City has always been pretty congested.
This picture dates back to the 1930s.

 

The news this morning sported yet another headline trumpeting the sordid state of my countrymen living in New York City. It seems every day brings some fresh new tragedy from some Leftist enclave overrun with homelessness, drug abuse, crime, violence and despair. In this case, some well-to-do woman was walking back to her building when she was accosted by a pair of muggers.

The criminals threw the poor woman against the building and snatched away her purse and phone. The many bystanders present just looked on with disinterest.

What made the event newsworthy was that the doorman at her building actually chose to intervene. He shooed away the two miscreants and escorted the shaken woman inside. The two scumbags strolled away laughing as they cataloged their new swag. Oddly, that sort of thing really doesn’t happen down here in the Deep South where I live.

I don’t much want to live in New York City myself. However, the Statue of Liberty is pretty darn awesome, so there’s that. Photo by MCJ1800 / Wikipedia

Daylight and Dark

Far be it from me to insinuate that one part of our great republic is superior to any other. I freely admit that, in addition to more than 90,000 homeless people and roughly half a million illegal immigrants, the Big Apple also plays host to the Statue of Liberty. That is indeed pretty darn cool.

My own home state of Mississippi admittedly rates 47th in literacy. Only New Mexico, Texas and California beat us in our race to the bottom. Incidentally, New York is 43rd.

Mine is still a pretty Godly state. We are number one in the country for adults who pray daily and believe in God. We are fourth in church attendance. Additionally, Everytown for Gun Safety, a rabid mob of freedom-averse gun-hating hoplophobes, rates us 49th for gun law strength. I’m pretty proud of that myself.

Every single day at work, I see some redneck guy in my medical clinic and ask him to shed his jacket or vest so I can listen to his chest. That’s when I see it. The next question is invariably, “What you packing?”

I already know the answer to that question, of course, but it is a great way to start a conversation. And that is why we don’t have thugs throwing women up against buildings on the square in Oxford, Mississippi. It is not hyperbole to say that the first time you do that around here, half a dozen armed rednecks are just going to blow you away.

Mine is a constitutional carry state. Down here, your birth certificate is your concealed carry license. We also really love our cops, and they love us. The local fuzz is forever offering free classes on self-defense for women and similar civic-minded stuff. My wife took it. That was great until she got home and wanted to practice what she learned on me.

We had to call the cops a few years ago for a disturbance in the waiting room. Some crazy person was getting out of hand. It happens. One of the responding officers actually arrived on horseback. He had been across the street showing off his police horse at the nearby nursing home when he got the call.

Rednecks are a timeless part of the Deep South. These were photographed back in the early 20th century. However, guys like this are tough, they love America, and they will not stand idly by while women get beat up.

Find a Need and Fill It

If random armed rednecks are a deterrent to crime, that seems like an opportunity to me. We have plenty of armed rednecks down here in Mississippi, while our friends in New York appear to have a relative dearth. As such, I would like to announce my newest business venture. I call it Will’s Redneck Rentals. We gladly export.

Here is one of our hypothetical armed rednecks available for rent — Colt Thompson (I actually know a guy down here named Colt Thompson) has worked for the past 15 years as an electrician. He is 40 pounds overweight, married and has three children. He was a Bud Light man until last year when he inexplicably switched to Coors. His preferred carry piece is a 9mm Springfield Armory Hellcat in a well-used CrossBreed IWB rig. He’s looking for a side gig to help keep things spicy.

Nowadays, Colt is an overweight middle-aged redneck. However, right out of high school, he spent four years in a Ranger battalion.

He still shoots regularly and recreationally. That fat, unassuming HVAC repairman can run that Hellcat like a Delta Force commando. He also loves America, goes to church regularly and absolutely hates people who pick on women, like viscerally. Give the guy a cot and keep him in food and beer, and he’s yours for as long as you need him.

So, surf on over to www.mississippiactuallysoundsprettyfreakingawesome.com to sign up for your own rental redneck. We deliver. Additionally, if you are the sort who shakes down women in public spaces, be forewarned. Try that in front of Colt Thompson or one of his peers, and that guy is going to kill you deader than rocks. We guarantee it.

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From – The Daily Kona

“The Way We Were”

I saw this article from Michael Smith and it made me think, it was something that I read that a soldier commented during the Korean war and it was really driven home during the Vietnam war and every war since. 
There has been a disconnect between the G.I’s fighting and the American people, as one commented “Its like they don’t even know that there is a war on except for the evening news and the caskets coming home, there is no sense of urgency, no sense of sacrifice, 24 hours after you catch the freedom bird you are home. and you feel lost. 
The people at home have no clue what you went through, they have no frame of reference. nothing.”  This sentiment has gone on through every war since Korea, now the WWII vets had an idea so that helped with Korea, but after that, there was no frame of reference.   
This disconnect has caused a chasm between the actions of the U.S. Military and the society.  The WWII generation would have understood what President Trump was trying to do to keep the Mad Mullahs’ from getting nuclear weapons. 
But this generation is soo coddled so inured, they have no sense of sacrifice, they can’t endure any discomfort, what was to happen if we were to get into a war with a peer or a near peer adversary, our soft society couldn’t handle the strain, they would fold rather than fight to save the country, rather than endure, not realizing what would happen in the future is much worse.  I fear for this country. for the country that my son will inherit.

 

I just paid $3.79 per gallon for regular gas to fill up my truck. Two months ago, that was $2.49 per gallon.
As I was thinking about that change, I also thought about going through my mom’s stuff after she died and finding ration coupons from the WWII era and it trigged a consideration about just how soft and coddled America is as compared to the war effort against the Axis powers and how some are not willing to pay even a small price or experience a tiny amount of discomfort as America seeks to end a global threat.
My dad was a Sergeant First Class in the Army Corps of Engineers and was on the beach at Normandy as a combat engineer. I remember him talking about the start of the war and how the people of rural Mississippi pulled together as husbands, fathers, brothers and sons enlisted, left the farms and went to war. I remember my mom and my extended family of grandparents, aunts and uncles, talking about what it was like during the war and the sacrifices they willingly made.
How different it seems today.
During World War II, the American home front became an extension of the battlefield, not through combat, but through discipline, restraint, and a shared understanding that victory required sacrifice from everyone. The government did not simply ask for support, it organized daily life around it, and ordinary citizens adjusted accordingly.
Rationing was the most visible expression of that shift. Basic staples such as sugar, meat, butter, and coffee were no longer items of casual purchase but controlled commodities, distributed through coupon books that limited how much any household could buy.
The system was not merely about scarcity; it was about fairness and prioritization. Soldiers needed food first, and industry needed raw materials, so civilians learned to stretch meals, substitute ingredients, and accept that abundance was temporarily off the table.
In backyards across the country, “Victory Gardens” appeared, turning private property into small-scale food production and reinforcing the idea that self-reliance was part of national service.
Fuel and transportation were similarly constrained.
Gasoline was rationed, and tires became precious due to rubber shortages, forcing Americans to rethink mobility. Carpooling was encouraged, unnecessary travel discouraged, and even speed limits were lowered to conserve fuel and extend tire life.
The automobile, long a symbol of American freedom, became subject to collective necessity. Convenience gave way to coordination.
Clothing and consumer goods followed the same pattern. Fabric, leather, and rubber were diverted to military use, leaving civilians with fewer options and a clear message: use what you have.
The phrase “make do and mend” was not a slogan but a practical instruction. Clothes were repaired instead of replaced, wardrobes simplified, and even small luxuries, like nylon stockings, disappeared almost overnight because those materials were needed for parachutes and other military equipment.
Perhaps the most participatory aspect of the home front effort was the nationwide push for scrap collection and recycling. Americans were asked to gather metal, rubber, paper, and even used cooking grease, all of which could be repurposed for war production.
These drives turned neighborhoods, schools, and civic groups into active contributors to the industrial war machine. It was not enough to conserve, one was expected to contribute.
Even energy use became a matter of national concern. Households were encouraged to limit electricity and heating consumption, and in coastal areas, blackout measures were enforced to reduce visibility to potential enemy attacks. Daily routines were adjusted in small but meaningful ways, reinforcing the sense that the war touched every aspect of life.
Rationing wasn’t just about scarcity, it was about true shared sacrifice and discipline, not the made up virtue signaling crap of today. The government framed it as a civic duty: every pound of sugar saved, every mile not driven, every scrap collected contributed, at least symbolically, to victory.
It created a culture where restraint and conservation were patriotic, and waste and excess were quietly frowned upon.
Taken together, these measures reshaped American habits and expectations. Comfort was reduced, convenience curtailed, and consumption disciplined, and in exchange, there was a widely shared belief that these sacrifices mattered. The home front operated on a simple premise: that millions of small acts of restraint and contribution could add up to something decisive.
There is no doubt that presidents, politicians, and planners played a large role in crushing the spirit of unity. From Jack Kennedy to the Biden administration, America cocked up pretty much every military operation, and our military paid the price. Soldiers and sailors returning from Vietnam were spit on and called “baby killers.”
I get the feeling that tide has turned, at least for most of America. I hope so, given we are engaged in what I and many others believe is the alteration of the global power structure in a positive direction for everybody but America’s stated enemies.
Something we should remember as we head into our 250th year.