It will soon be over, all but the tears and the long road toward oblivion and certainly the hate will not stop or the plotting to restore the Confederacy. My unincorporated slice of the county is festooned with Fire Obama signs and Allen West signs and Connie Mack signs or signs of the Apocalypse if you prefer. But here and there, braving the flaming cross or at least social ostracism, there is a voice crying in the wilderness:
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