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    Thanksgiving Is Coming? Great, I Can't Wait To Spend It, All The Way Out Here, In The Middle Of Nowhere...Alone...Again

    HDTBig.jpgThis is a letter Henry David Thoreau sent to his Aunt in November of 1846. At that time Thoreau was living alone on Walden Pond, which was 1.5 miles away from his family home.

    November 5, 1846

    Dearest Aunt,

    I want to thank you for your letter reminding me that Thanksgiving is fast approaching. It's funny that your letter was dated November 4th. I find it hard to believe that it found its way to my remote location so quickly. I'll assume it was dated, October 4th.

    My heart was a flush with your generous invitation to join you for Thanksgiving dinner, but alas I have to decline. Because you know that from this great distance, even if I left right now, I could never arrive at your door on time. If only your letter would have come sooner. I'm afraid that I will have to spend another holiday all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, alone, again.

    But do not feel bad for me dear Aunt. For I will have a feast of berries and tree bark when I recount what I am thankful for. And what am I thankful for? Let's see, I have my health, my very small and drafty house in the middle of the this savage infested jungle health.

    Oh I will miss you and dear Uncle John this year. How I'd love to hear his stories of fur trapping. If only I was within a safe traveling distance. In fact, I'm so far out here that I'm not even sure I'm still in the United States or even on Earth. And if I am indeed on a different planet, there is no way I could get back in time for Thanksgiving. Pity, because I could use some of your muscle building treats. I guess these pants will just keep on getting bigger and bigger, which is fine, really; because out here in the badlands you need to be able to move fast to survive. Anything other than skin and bone would just slow me down.

    So again dear Aunt, I thank you for your belated invitation. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving, and I will use my solitude here in the dense and dangerous wilderness to write something meaningful. And if, dear Aunt, an animal should have me for their Thanksgiving dinner, please know that I died happy, even though if I had had some food I could have had the strength to fight, but I'm sure you tried to bring me some, but were too far away. Be well and chew slowly.

    All my love,


    That Thanksgiving Thoreau did not starve or get eaten by wild animals. He was picked up by a carriage and taken the 1.5 miles to his Aunt's house for Thanksgiving dinner, where after gorging himself for 7 straight hours, he crapped his pants. 


    If Only I Were Taller

    JeffDavisBig.jpgThe following is an unpublished letter written by Jefferson Davis, former President of the Confederate States of America.

     May 10, 1865

    Dear Friend,

    I am writing this letter to inform you that I am a loser, a bum, a good-for-nothing, a pile of horse dung. I was close, so close to making a new nation, so close to success. I had it. I had it within my grasp, but I let it slip away. And now it is gone, gone forever.

    And why, why did I lose this so-called Civil War? Well, I can tell you why I did not lose this war. I did not lose because the North had more money, more soldiers and more guns. That was not it, no, not by a long shot. I lost, because I was not tall enough...God damn that Abraham Lincoln, all six feet four inches of him!

    I had always heard that tall people were successful. And being six foot one, I always thought I was tall enough. But alas, I was not. I am so sorry my Confederate brethren. I am so sorry that I failed you so, that I came up three inches short. But what else could we have done? I was the tallest man in the Confederate government! I guess we were doomed from the start.  

    What will future generations think of me my friend? Will my place in history be that of a punch line? Yes it will, unless I can beat Lincoln at his own game! I may not be able to rescue a nation, but I can rescue my family from ridicule!

    That's why I will find the tallest woman in the land and marry her! Together we will have tall children, who in turn will marry other tall people and have even taller children! And that cycle will continue until the Davis family is taller than the Lincoln family! Then, finally, I will have my victory! Ha!

    There is much to prepare and so little time, I must go. Wish me luck my friend!


     Jefferson Davis did as he said he would. He married the tallest woman in the South and had some tall children. Then they had some tall children and so on and so on until today the descendants of President Davis are pretty darn tall, in fact taller that Lincoln's descendants. What a victory.


    If We Free The Slaves, Who Will Do The Work That Americans Don’t Want To Do?

    180px-NCG-AlexanderMartin.jpgAlexander Martin, Governor of North Carolina and Delegate to the Constitutional Convention

    This is a speech given by Governor Martin to the Constitutional Convention on September 7th, 1787.

    My dear gentlemen, as we come close to completing this document and laying the foundation to the greatest experiment in human history. I pray that we table a discussion of slavery and move on.

    There are many of you, wearing cotton shirts I might add, who think slavery is a most evil institution. Myself, feel we could do better, but not now. Now is not the time to set these people free. Because if we let the slaves go, who will do the work that the real Americans don’t want to do? Who will pick the cotton, plow the wheat and deliver us our corn?

    You Mr. Franklin? You Mr. Jefferson? You General Washington?

    The slaves, whether you like it or not, are valuable workers that provide a service and help keep our economy moving. And as a fragile young nation, keeping our economy on the carriage path of growth should be of the utmost importance.

    And don’t assail me with the hollow arguments that plantation owners are taking advantage of the Africans by paying them a near non-existent wage, that that has caused a wage depression in this country and that real Americans would pick cotton or anything else, if they could just get a living wage.

    We know that not to be the case. Americans are, for lack of a better word, prissy namby pambies. We love to wear powdered wigs, play with swords and talk of big ideas, but we don’t like to get our hands dirty. And to make my point, let me see everyone’s fingernails…Madison, get your hand up….spotless. I thought as much.  

    Now let's suppose that we do let the slaves go home and pay real Americans a real wage to pick cotton. What happens? The price of that cotton shirt you're wearing goes up, and so does the price of everything else. That's inflation, and inflation we cannot have.

    My friends, because of our laziness and our pale skin, that burns in the heat of Apollo’s mighty sun, we must leave the work of the land to the slaves. And don't feel bad. They like the work. It gives them satisfaction. And whether you believe it or not, they are living better here than they did there in barren Africa.

    So in conclusion, until the day real Americans come to their senses and decide that any job at any wage is worth their effort, we must keep the slaves. It’s a matter of national security. Thank you.


    Here I Am English, Come Get A Taste!

    KidOHalloran.jpgKID O'HALLORAN

    This editorial appeared in the London Times during February of 1902.

    (Dublin, Ireland) Let's get right to it shall we? If you stinking limey bastards plan to keep poisoning our good Irish minds with your Catholic witchcraft, your crappy Queen and your bland tasteless food, then you're going to have to answer to me, Kid O'Hallaron, The Great Potato Masher. Yeah that's right, I'm not a myth used to scare your stupid wanker children. I'm the real McCoy!

    And today, I'm announcing my intention to wipe up the street with you chinless wonders. What am I saying? Since you are brain-dead from all the inbreeding, I'll write slow. I am challenging every single one of you crumpet-stuffers to a fight.

    And if you think I'm not up to the task, then just take a look at this photograph and let fear seep into your fiendish bones. Pictures don't lie my inferior foe. What you see are arms of steel, legs of iron and a jaw of granite. If you are not trembling, then you are all damn fools!

    But what are we fighting for, you ask? Why for Ireland's freedom of course. So, as soon I beat all of you senseless, we will be a free nation, free to pursue whatever the hell we want to pursue. And if by some freak accident, one of you devil dogs should get the better of me, then you can have all of Ireland. But don't get too excited now, because that's never going to happen. The good Lord is on our side.

    So I'm laying down the gauntlet, who's man enough to pick it up and get a taste of The Potato Masher?

    Thousands of Englishman picked up Kid O'Hallaron's gauntlet the day this was published. But it only took one man to silence the Masher; which east London bricklayer Robert Speedman did with one punch to the granite jaw. Irish historians now blame O'Halloran for the delay of a free Ireland saying a peace was close until 'he opened that bloody hole in his face'. O'Halloran became an outcast and was even deported from his beloved Ireland. He ended up in Hollywood, where he made a career out of getting beat up in early westerns.


    We Strongly Suggest You Buy A Paper

    newsboys325x195.jpgThis is an eyewitness account from 1921.

    (Washington D.C.) Hey buddy, where are you going? Yea, we're talking to you. Come over here and buy the latest edition. Oh, you've already got it? Well, take this anyway you want four-eyes, but we strongly suggest that you buy a paper.

    That's a fancy suit you got there, it'd be a shame for it to get all ripped up.

    And for just a few pennies, you can keep that suit looking fresh as a daisy. But it's up to you. It is a free country after all. We can't force you to buy a paper from us. We're just harmless kids.

    I see. You don't need another paper. We understand. I'm sure you don't need a broken leg either. We're not threatening you. Come on. Look how small we are. What could we do to you? It's just a dangerous world, and I'd hate to see you take an unnecessary spill down some stairs. But we could help push the odds against that happening, if you help us out.

    I understand you're late getting home. You've got that house on Washington Place right? It's a nice house, white plaster, indoor plumbing and gas. You've got it all. But, I wonder if those gaslights are safe. Sometimes, they go a little weird and start fires. I'd hate to see that happen. I'll tell you what. We know the guy who owns the gas company. We can have him check your house for you, make sure it's all safe. All you have to do is buy a paper. Not a big deal.

    You'll buy a paper tomorrow? That's great, but why put off tomorrow what you can do today? Am I right? Besides a lot of things can happen before tomorrow. Like, I don't know, someone could kidnap your young pretty wife, fill her with opium, take some lewd photographs and send them to your boss. But then again something like that could not happen. It all depends on you.

    Go ahead and go tell the cops. Where do you think they get their papers from? The President? He's a good friend of ours. Do you want to meet him? You know what you have to do.

    Nice doing business with you. We'll see you tomorrow and the next day and the next day, ya follow? Good. Now scram, we've got work to do.

    Hello sir, that sure is a spiffy hat, would you like to buy the latest edition?