Three kids in Bloomington, as you may have heard, didn't get to graduate with their high school class because they waved a Confederate flag in the parking lot. They said it was a "prank," which puts it in the long-standing innocent tradition of senior mischief, like releasing white mice in the cafeteria, or burning a cross.
Fun-lovin' stuff only a real PC pinch-face would take seriously.
Said one classmate who supported the students:
"The Confederate flag was in Confederate battles, and it had nothing to do with slavery."
Yes, and the Union Jack was in Revolutionary War battles, and it had nothing to do with enforcing British colonialism.
Personally, I don't get why anyone would want to fly it; as a Northerner -- i.e., the winning side, the good guys -- it's always struck me as an emblem of unwarranted romantic attachment to secessionism, a misty Tara-and-juleps image of a pre-industrial agricultural economy based on the miseries of human bondage.
It's like a bumper sticker that displays a preference for a candidate who lost in 2000: Get over it.
I understand that there's a rich tapestry of emotions and history that reside in the issue in the South, but around here "the South" is Rochester. If Sherman had burned the Mayo Clinic to the ground, I might understand, but Minnesota sent guys to Gettysburg to die for the Union.