'WASP' is the only ethnic term that is in fact a term of class, apart from redneck, which is another word for the same group but who are in the lower social strata, so it's inexplicably tied up with social standing and culture and history in a way that the other hyphenations just are not.
Our redneck reputation back then was originally just because we had long hair. Back in the '60s and the early '70s, in the South that was kind of a no-no. At all the Army and Navy bases we'd play, we would get into fights with the soldiers over our hair. But I think our music overshadowed everything else.
Most of us had never seen a sober redneck before, and we have the Reagan Landslide to testify that none of us ever wants to see one again. It was a horrifying apparition. And ever since Jimmy Carter, all of us rednecks have had to be very careful to be drunk rednecks lest we turn into some kind of awful creature with big buck teeth and a State Department full of human-rights yahoos.
P. J. O'Rourke
Nashville is a boys' club of redneck conservative ideas. But they're ready to embrace gay people. I never felt for one second that someone was judging me. Some people are like, 'Oh, I love gay people' in that 'I have lots of black friends' kind of way. It's awkward, but you have to appreciate that they're trying.
New Rule: If you still think Obama is a Muslim, you just might be a redneck. A Christian church in South Carolina has a sign out front that says 'Obama... Osama... Hmmm... Are they brothers?' No, they're not brothers. In fact, they're not even related, which is more than I can say for the married couples in your church.
I kinda like Florida. It's hot as hell, but we moved to Tallahassee, which is so close to Georgia. It really wasn't Florida the way people think of Florida. It wasn't south Florida. But you could still easily drive to Panama City Beach and get a little bit of Redneck Riviera if you want that. Get some airbrushed T-shirts on, and you're done.
It's a lot of anti-gay, racist humor""which people like in America""all couched in 'I'm telling it like it is.' He's in the right place at the right time for that gee-shucks, proud-to-be-a-redneck, I'm-just-a-straight-shooter-multimillionaire-in-cutoff-flannel-selling-ring-tones act. That's where we are as a nation now. We're in a state of vague American values and anti-intellectual pride.
The enemy of the black is not the white. The enemy of capitalist is not communist, the enemy of homosexual is not heterosexual, the enemy of Jew is not Arab, the enemy of youth is not the old, the enemy of hip is not redneck, the enemy of Chicano is not gringo and the enemy of women is not men. We all have the same enemy. The enemy is the tyranny of the dull mind. The enemy is every expert who practices technocratic manipulation, the enemy is every proponent of standardization and the enemy is every victim who is so dull and lazy and weak as to allow himself to be manipulated and standardized.
And I thought, y'know, I mean... this is crazy. I mean, the only thing that determines what country you belong to is where you happened to be born? What is a country, anyway? It's not, y'know, 'purple mountain's majesty' or 'fruited plains, ' whatever the hell that means. I mean, America isn't a place, it's an ideal. It could happen in the Sahara Desert and still be America. For that matter, I'm the child of immigrants. My father's lived and worked in this country for the past three decades. And he's somehow more or less American than some redneck who uses Osama bin Laden for toilet paper? How the hell do you measure something like that?
Phillip Andrew Bennett Low
The Pennsylvania Game Commission has charged a man with going deer hunting with a handgun in a Wal-Mart parking lot. He is being charged with reckless endangerment, but may plead guilty to the lesser charge of being a redneck.... Hunting in a Wal-Mart parking lot. That's got to be some good eating — a deer that lives on leftover Twizzlers and Mountain Dew.
How funny is it that so many professors labeled Tea Partiers as terrorists, while kissing the asses of real, bona fide terrorists? It's not funny, really. But it's the result of a simple equation: One is cool, and the other isn't. Own a gun and keep it by your bed in your remote farmhouse? You're a redneck. Purchase guns that end up killing a judge? Priceless. As long as you cling to cool, progressive beliefs that deem America evil, whatever you do is cool. And if you do it under a big fuzzy 'fro? Even cooler. Hell, if you 'fro is big enough, you could nuke an orphanage and still get tenure.
Sanford is a little redneck town north of Orlando. It's right off Lake Jessup.Lake Jessup is the most alligator infested lake in the United States and I live literally 5/10ths of a mile north of that lake right off the swamp down here. I've lived here since '94. When I left Nebraska my dad got a job at a private Christian school in West Palm Beach. People will say "You're not really a country boy. You're from Palm Beach, Florida." Well, I moved to West Palm Beach, FL which is a far cry from Palm Beach, FL. There's a reason it's called West Palm Beach.
Larry the Cable Guy
Along with the concept of American Dream runs the notion that every man and woman is entitled to an opinion and to one vote, no matter how ridiculous that opinion might be or how uninformed the vote. It could be that the Borderer Presbyterian tradition of "stand up and say your rightful piece" contributed to the American notion that our gut-level but uninformed opinions are some sort of unvarnished foundational political truths. I have been told that this is because we redneck working-class Scots Irish suffer from what psychiatrists call "no insight".Consequently, we will never agree with anyone outside our zone of ignorance because our belligerent Borderer pride insists on the right to be dangerously wrong about everything while telling those who are more educated to "bite my ass!
MR. JOHNSON'S HEAD I'M STARING AT THE FREAK THAT I KNOW I'M IN LOVE WITH BUT SHE DON'T EVEN KNOW MY NAME IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THE SAME I JUST LAY MY HEAD DOWN AND DROWN IN MY SPIT NOBODY EVEN NOTICES I'M HERE CUZ I AIN'T SHIT I HEAR VOICES BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY SAYING SWEAT IS ON MY FOREHEAD CUZ MY BRAIN'S INSIDE DECAYING AND THIS BITCH THAT I LOVE PROBABLY DON'T HAVE NO IDEA SHE'S TALKING TO HER FRIENDS I'M IN THE CORNER AND I SEE HER SOMETHING'S HAPPENING BUT IT ISN'T VERY CLEAR SOUNDS LIKE A BELL, SOUNDS LIKE AN ELECTRIC CHAIR NEXT THING I KNOW WALKING IN THE CROWDED HALL SO MANY DIFFERENT FACES THAT I THROW UP ON THE WALL SOME ARE YELLING "SICK" AND THE OTHERS STOP AND STARE BUT I DON'T CARE, I'M IN A HURRY GOING NOWHERE SEE, MY HEAD IS SPINNING CUZ I'M LONELY AND I'M TWISTED BUT I HAVE A SECRET EVERYBODY MISSED IT JUST A NOBODY AND I THINK IT'S A DRAG BUT I GOT MR. JOHNSON'S HEAD IN MY BOOKBAG I COULDN'T STAND THE PRESSURE, NOT ANOTHER DAY I DIDN'T LIKE THE FUCKER MR. JOHNSON ANYWAY I SAT UP IN HIS CLASS, HE HUNG A REBEL FLAG I CUT THE BIGOTS HEAD OFF AND I STUFFED IT IN MY BAG I WISH SOMEBODY KNEW ME CUZ THEN THEY COULD SAY I'M WRONG BUT SINCE NOBODY KNOWS ME I GOT IT GOING ON I'M STARING AT THE CLOCK, I LISTEN FOR THE TOCK I GOTTA COUPLE FOOD STAMPS FOLDED IN MY SOCK I GUESS I'M JUST A GHOST CUZ EVERYBODY WALKS THROUGH ME IF I DIED IN CLASS THEY WOULD PROBABLY SAY THEY KNEW ME OR THEY WOULDN'T CARE, THEY WOULDN'T EVEN MOVE A DEAD BODY ROTTING IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM FOR WEEKS AND MONTHS, STINKING UP THE CLASS UNTIL SOMEBODY NOTICED THEN THEY THROW ME IN THE TRASH I CAN HEAR THE TEACHER MAN TALKING ABOUT COLUMBUS HE NOTHING BUT AN OLD DEAD FUCK WITH A COMPASS RAN UP ON A BEACH AND THREW EVERYBODY OFF AND THEN HE CLAIMED DISCOVERY AND NOW WE ALL APPLAUD I DON'T GIVE A FUCK TO LEARN YOUR UNCLE WENT TO HELL I'M TRAPPED IN MIND AND MY BRAIN IS MY CELL BUT I HAVE A KEY, IT'S CALLED INSANITY I STICK IN MY BRAIN TO UNLOCK ETERNITY JUST A NOBODY AND I THINK IT'S A DRAG BUT I GOT MR. JOHNSON'S HEAD IN MY BOOKBAG I COULDN'T STAND THE PRESSURE, NOT ANOTHER DAY I DIDN'T LIKE THE FUCKER MR. JOHNSON ANYWAY I SAT UP IN HIS CLASS, HE HUNG A REBEL FLAG I CUT THE BIGOTS HEAD OFF AND I STUFFED IT IN MY BAG "OKAY, TODAY WE'RE GONNA LEARN ABOUT A GREAT FREEDOM. IF YOU'LL TURN YOUR TEXTBOOKS TO CHAPTER FOUR WE'LL GET STARTED. AMERICA'S THE LAND OF THE FREE, WE ALL LIVE TOGETHER IN THE SAME WEALTHY COMMUNITY AND WE ARE ALTERNATE EQUALS. YES?" "MAN, MR. JOHNSON ALREADY TAUGHT US THIS. AIN'T HE EVER COMING BACK?" "UH, UH, HE'S, UH, VERY ILL RIGHT NOW." NO, THEY CAN SIT AND FRONT ABOUT IT ALL DAY BUT I LEFT HIS FUCKING BODY IN THE HALLWAY AND IN THE MORNING THEY OPENED UP THE DOOR AND SEEN HIS MOTHERFUCKING CARCASS LAYING ON THE FLOOR BUT THEY WOULD NEVER SUSPECT ME I'M JUST A NERD I TRY TO SPEAK MY WORD, IT ALWAYS GOES UNHEARD I COULD CHOP MY ARMS OFF AND RUN AROUND THE CLASS I DOUBT THEY'D EVEN NOTICE, BUT I'D BE DYING FAST CUZ THEY'D RATHER LEARN ABOUT REDNECK CHICKER WHO OWNED A COUPLE SLAVES BUT I GUESS IT DOESN'T MATTER FUCK WASHINGTON, BENJAMIN, FUCK EM ALL AH THEY CAN SUCK MY NUTS TILL THEY WOOD TEETH FALL OUT AND THE CLASS WANNA KNOW WHO COULD IT BE BUT I'M LIKE DEWEY BOODIE, YOU AIN'T NEVER HEARD OF ME I'M JUST A NOBODY AND I THINK IT'S A DRAG BUT I GOT HIS MOTHERFUCKING MELON CHILLING IN MY BOOKBAG I COULDN'T STAND THE PRESSURE, NOT ANOTHER DAY I DIDN'T LIKE THE FUCKER MR. JOHNSON ANYWAY I SAT UP IN HIS CLASS, HE HUNG A REBEL FLAG I CUT THE BIGOTS HEAD OFF AND I STUFFED IT IN MY BAG
Insane Clown Posse (ICP)