What are you wearing to the secession ball?

Across the South, people will soon celebrate the “glory days of secession” by  commemorating the US Civil War on its 150th anniversary.

This, from the New York Times:

The events include a “secession ball” in the former slave port of Charleston (“a joyous night of music, dancing, food and drink,” says the invitation), which will be replicated on a smaller scale in other cities. A parade is being planned in Montgomery, Ala., along with a mock swearing-in of Jefferson Davis as president of the Confederacy.

In addition, the Sons of Confederate Veterans and some of its local chapters are preparing various television commercials that they hope to show next year. “All we wanted was to be left
alone to govern ourselves,” says one ad from the group’s Georgia Division.

My mind reels. When I drive by the Civil War memorial in the town common today, I wonder how many descendants of those dead will be out celebrating “the glory days of secession.” 

Read all about it:

If you’re new to this blog, you might want to read earlier posts on the Civil War and its aftermath. 

The first Civil War veterans’ reunion:

Looking forward vs. looking backward:
Memorial Day, Wilmington, Vermont

Regarding the wave of social pathology we’re seeing in the US these days – with the new Arizona immigration law just the tip of the iceberg -- here’s some good, bad and ugly news. 

First, the bad and the ugly:

1. If you send your kid off to an out-of-state prison, he might come home a racist fascist. Who knew?  

2. Speaking of racist fascists, you may not have heard this story but here’s how three New Mexico 20-somethings spent last Saturday night (Thanks for this, Leslie.): 

Now, the good:
3. In spite of the story above, the Land of Enchantment has a totally different social climate than its neighbor Arizona due, in part, to the wisdom of Gov. Bill Richardson, plus centuries of Hispanic culture embedded in every aspect of life. 
I love Bill Richardson, the ultimate pragmatist. I also love New Mexico, and this story makes my heart sing. Ola, Antoinette!