which was fought because a group of rich white guys
(who happened to own slaves)
didn’t like the dude in charge of their country
and decided to start a new one
(SO NOBLE!)
the CIVIL war
is fought because some slave-owning white guys
(who happen to be rich)
don’t like the dude in charge of their country
and decide to start a new one.
(SO TERRIBLE!)
Dudes on both sides of the Mason-Dixon Line
(the imaginary line that marks where slavery is)
are joining up left and right
to fight for this hella just cause.
This cause is so hella just that even LADIES want in
but the Union Army is like a vast treehouse
with “NO GIRLS ALLOWED” scrawled on the front
which stops most ladies from getting in on the fun.
Sarah Emma Edmonds is not most ladies.
Emma can’t legally join the army because vagina
but here’s the thing:
She REALLY wants to
so what does she do?
She mans up
LITERALLY
by dressing as a dude named Franklin Thomas
and then bluffs her way past the recruiters
whose rigorous medical screening process
basically just consists of making sure she has hands.
So now she’s in the army
working as a nurse, ’cause that’s what she wanted
but anyone who is willing to cross-dress for freedom
is not gonna be satisfied nursing for very long.
When an old homie of hers gets shot while scouting
and another Union dude gets shot for spying
she’s like hm . . .
I’m already basically spying in this army
might as well become a DOUBLE-SPY
So she goes to her boss, General McClellan
who has NO IDEA she’s a lady
and she’s like “Hey, I hear you need spies”
and he’s like “Do you love freedom?”
and she’s like “Shit yeah”
and he’s like “Do you know military stuff?”
and she’s like “Yup I read some books”
and he’s like “Let me feel the bumps on your skull”
and she’s like “. . . What?”
and he’s like “Don’t diss phrenology, it’s totally real”
and she’s like “. . . What?”
and he’s like “The bumps tell me you’re hired
you start in three days
not gonna train you at all
figure it out”
and Emma’s like “. . . Okay, sure.”
So she’s like “Hm, I need a disguise.
Guess I could just go as a woman.
That’s lame though.
How about I go as a BLACK MAN.
YES, EXCELLENT.”
So she buys a woolly wig from a minstrel show
(hooray for racism)
dyes her skin black with silver nitrate
names herself “Cuff”
and then shows up in Yorktown
behind Confederate lines
like “’Sup, guys, I’m a slave and I’m lost
plz show me all your military defenses.”
AND IT WORKS.
So when a dumb Rebel officer puts her on guard duty
she escapes back to the Union side
and she gets to keep the gun he gave her as a prize
and go back to working as a nurse
FOR LIKE TEN MINUTES
before McClellan is like “Hey, Frank
(I still don’t suspect that you are a lady)
we need some more facts about enemies.
Can you hook us up?”
This time Emma decides to take it easy
and go dressed as a lady
OH, NOPE, TOO EASY
make that a fifty-year-old Irish lady
named Bridget O’Shea.
So she sneaks into Rebel territory on a boat
and accidentally finds a dying dude in an old house
who she takes care of until he dies
and he gives her a gold watch
to deliver to a major in the Confederate camp
and she’s like “Oh no, so sad, he died”
but she’s also like “YESSSS ULTIMATE COVER.”
I should mention at this point
that when Emma goes a-spying
she NEVER HAS AN ESCAPE PLAN
she just shows up in a fancy costume
and expects that some chumpalicious soldier
will at some point bend over backwards
to make sure she can leave with all their secrets.
THIS IS ALWAYS WHAT HAPPENS.
Like, she shows up to the camp
makes friends with the major
sells everybody soap
learns all about their defenses
and then they GIVE HER A HORSE
and ask her to lead them to the dead dude’s body
which she does
shortly before disappearing on her new horse
which she names “Rebel,” just to rub it in.
She keeps pulling this shit for a while
delivering top-secret messages
and exploiting slavery for covert data.
At one point she moves to Kentucky
poses as a young Canadian gentleman
and becomes the accountant
for the HEAD OF A REBEL SPY RING
who she then totally ruins.
And this WHOLE TIME
nobody in the Union figures out that she’s a chick
She is a double agent in the best possible way
until she comes down with malaria
and she’s like “Aw shoot
if I go to the hospital tent to get fixed
they will take off my clothes and see my boobs
that will be totally embarrassing/ruin my career
OH WELL, GUESS I BETTER DESERT.”
So she runs away to DC
changes back into a girl
and works as a nurse for the rest of the war.
After the war is over
she calls up her old war buddies
and she’s like “Hey
remember that dude Frank Thompson?
Yeah, that was me.”
And they’re like “WHAT?!”
And she’s like “Yeah. So hey, I need a favor
could you come tell Congress that I’m me?
I wanna get a military pension
also an honorable discharge.”
And they’re like “Sure, no problem.”
So that happens
and Emma eventually gets married and has kids
and lives a pretty boring life
because she used up all her adrenaline in the army.
So the moral of the story
is that if you assume every man you meet
is a woman in disguise
it will make bus rides way more entertaining.
JOHN HENRY WORKS HIMSELF TO DEATH
So after the Civil War
slavery is officially over
yayyyyy!
But there are still a lot of dudes
who got super used to owning slaves
so even though they can’t own slaves
they figure out that they can still give ex-slaves jobs
that are a whole lot LIKE slavery.
Let’s take fictional man-drill John Henry, for example.
Now, John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man.
I SAID
JOHN HENRY WAS A STEEL-DRIVIN’ MAN.
Do you guys know what that means?
That means that he was a dude
whose job
was to KILL MOUNTAINS.
Now, the way he did this
was that some poor son of a bitch named Little Bill
would hold a steel drill in place against the rock
while John Henry BEAT ON IT
AS HARD AS HE COULD
WITH A TWENTY-POUND HAMMER
and Bill had to turn the drill after every strike
and eventually the drill would get dull
so he had to swap it out
for another drill
that someone would hopefully hand to him
WITHOUT MISSING A BEAT
and then they would take the old drill to a blacksmith
so the blacksmith could fix it
and then bring it back to Bill
so he could switch it out AGAIN
and meanwhile
John Henry’s hammer is whistling past Bill’s junk
or face, or ribs, or wherever he has to hold the drill
in order to brutalize the rock in the right direction.
Meanwhile, John Henry has it easy.
All HE has to do
is heft a TWENTY-POUND HAMMER
over and over again
with perfect accuracy
all day
burrowing through solid rock
never stopping, never getting tired
under constant threat of massive rock slides.
So this is this guy’s job.
Now, John Henry works for a pack of rat bastards
called the C&O Railroad Company.
One day John Henry’s railroad team arrives
at this BIG, BIG MOUNTAIN
and the railroad crew is all like “Oh wow, bummer.
Guess we better start going around this mountain.”
And aforementioned rat bastards from C&O
are like “NOPE.
GOIN’ STRAIGHT THROUGH.
IT IS ONLY LIKE A MILE AND A HALF THICK.
YOU GUYS LIKE HAVING JOBS, RIGHT?
SO DO IT.”
So they do it.
Most of these guys are freed slaves
so they don’t exactly have their pick of employment.
This goes double for John Henry
who, like Nicki Minaj’s ass
DOES NOT QUIT.
(Note:
This is basically the only trait John Henry shares
with Nicki Minaj’s ass.)
So every day all the steel-drivers go to work
and they fling themselves at this mountain
and like twenty people die
but John Henry just keeps abusing that stone
making a solid ten-foot tunnel every day, at LEAST.
So, you know, great for him
but all his friends are still dead
and the dicks at C&O are getting impatient
so when this traveling salesman shows up
with a steam-powered drill machine
they are like “SIGN US UP.
P.S.: Everyone who works for us is fired now.
ESPECIALLY JOHN HENRY.”
Now, John Henry takes guff from no man.
It is unreal how little guff this guy takes.
Like, if there were a great big pile of guff
just laying by the side of the road
and John Henry walked by
that pile would remain completely undisturbed
because he would take none of it.
So when he sees this guff coming his way
he just sidesteps the lot of it
and then he turns around like “Hey
traveling salesman
I bet I can drill harder, better, faster, AND stronger
than your candy-assed machine.”
And the traveling salesman is like “YOU’RE ON.”
So John Henry lines up next to this machine
along with his trusty shaker Little Bill
and TWO TWENTY-POUND HAMMERS
and they get
to
work.
So John and the drill are staying pretty much tied
maybe the drill is even doing a little better
but then it gets STUCK in a hole in the rock
and John Henry just goes grunting and flailing away
FOURTEEN FEET INTO THAT MOUNTAIN.
BAM CLINK CACHANG POW BOOM PEW PEW
I DON’T KNOW HOW A HAMMER SOUNDS.
So, final score:
Newfangled steam drill: nine feet.
One man armed only with sweat and hammers:
fourteen feet.
Oh wait.
John Henry was using two hammers
so he drilled TWO HOLES
so really, the score was nine to TWENTY-EIGHT.
Yeah.
But there’s some bad news too.
As soon as he finds out his score
John Henry puts down his hammers and dies
because he just hammered that rock so hard
he gave himself a stroke.
It doesn’t say in the ballad
but I like to think that his last words
were something like
“. . . Damn right.”
Anyway, then he’s dead
so they end up using the steam drill anyway
although they have to cancel work for like a week
because everyone thinks John’s ghost is in the tunnel
also the tunnel turns out to be way unstable
because it is a bad idea to use contests
to construct delicate railway tunnels.
But none of that matters
because the real hero of this story
is Little Bill
who held two drills
right next to all the tenderest parts of his body
against a solid stone wall
while a muscular dude repeatedly charged at him
flailing two twenty-pound hammers.
And he kept holding those drills
and turning them
and shaking out the stone debris
and switching out the drills when they got dull
FOR THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES
AND TWENTY-EIGHT FEET
and he didn’t have a stroke
or even poop himself a little.
So let’s hear it for Little Bill
the real American hero.
CUSTER’S LAST STAND IS HIGHLY UNNECESSARY
So the Union wins the Civil War
(spoilers)
and slavery is over(?)
but there is still a problem
America is just CRAWLING with Indians
and all the REAL Americans
(that is
the white dudes who showed up a few years ago)
are like “We’ve been in this country for a while now
it is pretty clear to us that this is not India
so obviously these Indians do not belong here
let’s murder them until they leave.”
Except, it’s a little more complicated than that.
Sure, some dudes just wanna kill Indians
but for some dudes
(and these dudes are considered Indian sympathizers)
it’s just like when a cat is sitting in your chair
and you’re like “Okay, cat
I’m going to sit down in this chair now
and if you are under my butt when that happens
well, that’s on you
literally.”
Except instead of a chair it is all of North America
and instead of a butt it’s millions of white people
and instead of getting sat on
it is total annihilation.
So on the one side you have gung-ho murderers
and on the other side
you have people who just don’t give a shit.
Luckily, the U.S. hits upon a brilliant strategy
this strategy is to make treaties with Indian chiefs
(none of whom have the authority to do this
because being an Indian chief
is sort of like being Benedict Cumberbatch:
Everybody likes you
but nobody has to do what you say)
and then, once they make these treaties
they break the treaties
pretty much immediately
and if any Indians complain about it
they shoot them and their entire families
and then set their whole village on fire.
It’s a pretty killer strategy.
Obviously this pisses some Indians off
specifically a big group known as the Sioux
which is a French word for “enemies”
and therefore pretty biased
so I’m going to call them what they call themselves:
Lakota
which basically means “friends.”
This is also pretty biased
but way easier to type than Sioux.
When I say the Lakota are pissed off
I mean SOME of the Lakota are pissed off
other Lakota just want to make peace.
But all the peace guys get massacred
because they’re way easier for white dudes to find
being as they are hanging out near white settlements
TRYING TO MAKE PEACE.
So pretty soon, all the Lakota
(and most of the Cheyenne
who have been having the same problems)
are ready to rumble.
But when I say “ready to rumble”
I mean “ready to be attacked.”
Like, they don’t go running all over the place
setting random houses on fire.
They mostly stay home
inside the bounds of the latest bullshit treaty
and occasionally blow up a railroad agent
or show up to a treaty negotiation
just to tell the U.S. delegation how full of shit it is.
Obviously, they must be stopped.
THANK GOD FOR GEORGE CUSTER.
George (whose middle name is ARMSTRONG)
is an arrogant, violent, bigoted maniac