Chris learns about Martin Van Buren and William Henry Harrison.

Hey, Internuts!  I’d like to thank everyone who has listened to the podcast already.  It took quite a while to put together and it’s very nice to hear that my little in vitro audio baby is being warmly received.  If you haven’t listened yet…well, please do so.  You can also find us on iTunes, if that’s your bag.  Just click on a link, like this, and scroll down until you see “Subscribe with iTunes.”  It’s just that easy!  And, as I’m writing this post it happens to be my birthday!  If you’d like to get me a present please check out the ads on the right side of the page and click on them if you see something you like.  Every click throws a few nickels my way and if I get enough I’ll go out and buy another load of disgusting food to write about.  Self-sustaining!  Alright, enough deplorable shilling for now!  It’s been far too long since we got to know the American Presidents, so please say hello to…

Martin Van Buren & William Henry Harrison!

Look at these handsome devils!

History.

I’d like to focus on William Henry Harrison today but I can’t.  At least, not yet.  Many of you know that I minored in Presidential History at The University of Phoenix (online).  U of P On L taught me many valuable lessons.  “Courses are not transferable,” for example.  But the lesson that I took to heart was, “Don’t take shortcuts.”  I took this advice seriously and I’ve spent many an hour in standstill traffic as a result.  Today, I’ll apply that nugget of wisdom to my blogging about the Presidents.  Sure, William Henry Harrison will be amazing to write about but he’s not the 8th U.S. President.  Stupid Martin Van Buren is!  If I want to continue filling these pages with wildly inaccurate information (and I DO!), we’ll have to eat the Brussel sprouts that are Martin Van Buren before we can enjoy the chocolate cake that is William Henry Harrison.  So, let’s eat our vegetables!

Stop sleeping with your cousins, Presidents!

Martin Van Buren was born 1782, the son of a Dutch tavern keeper and farmer.  Van Buren is the only U.S. President to speak English as a second language.  But not so fast, Michele Bachmann!  Marty was also the first President to be born an American citizen!  In your FACE!!!  Martin married his childhood sweetheart (awww!) and cousin (gross), Hannah Hoes in 1807.  There’s a lot of infant mortality among the children of our earliest Presidents.  This could be blamed on inferior medical practices OR it could be all the cousin humping that produced the wrong-faced monster babies of our founding fathers.

Van Buren began his political career at the age of 17.  He became well known for forging strong political connections, gaining him the nickname, “The Little Magician.”  He was also called “The Little Magician” because he was a dark sorcerer who stalked the forests of upstate New York, mutilating squirrels and casting spells on trees that he was suspicious of.   Thanks to Van Buren’s many political connections and well…magic…he quickly became a U.S. Senator for New York.  Martin became a vocal supporter of Andrew Jackson and soon enough he hitched his wagon to Jackson’s bloody, murderous star.  Jackson appointed his loyal friend Secretary of State and Van Buren was elected Vice President in 1832.

Martin Van Buren.

Martin was elected President in 1836 and things started going downhill.  Van Buren had used his evil magic to grant himself three wishes as a young man.  He wished for a little down and dirty cousin lovin’.  He wished for a solid gold spittoon.  And he wished to become President.  But Martin forgot to wish that the economy wouldn't completely fall apart on his watch.  So it did.  Van Buren’s Presidency was a mixed bag.  He grew to oppose slavery and took steps to steer the country away from it.  He also oversaw the forced relocation and murder of scores of Native Americans.  Also, he was an evil wizard.  Did I mention that?  Due mostly to the sagging economy, Van Buren failed to secure his party’s nomination for a second term and placed a powerful curse on the Presidency (a curse that would prove very fateful to Van Buren’s successor).  Martin Van Buren retired to Kinderhook, New York where he spent the remainder of his days.  He was killed at the age of 79 by Harry Potter.

William Henry Harrison was born in 1773 to an aristocratic family in Virginia.  William enlisted in the Army as soon as he could and quickly rose through the ranks to become a pivotal figure in the nation’s westward expansion.  The largest obstacles in the way of westward expansion were the people who already lived out west.  The Native Americans.  Harrison’s job was to be all, like, “Hey, get outta here, you guys.  This is our place now.”  Then the Native Americans were all, like, “Wait…what?”  Then Harrison was all, like, “Yeah, yo.  Pack up your shiznit and hit the bricks.”  But seriously, though, it was awful.

Harrison’s biggest claim to fame was the Battle of Tippecanoe, named for the Tippecanoe River where the battle took place.  Harrison repulsed the attacks of Indian leader, Tecumseh, and made his name as an unflappable leader of men.  Harrison also went on to serve as brigadier general during the War of 1812 (the other one with the British).  William leveraged his celebrity as a war hero to serve in both the House and the Senate before setting his sights on the Presidency.  Harrison easily defeated the unpopular Van Buren in 1840 and was super stoked to be the President for a long time.

Whoops!

The day of the inauguration was cold and wet but Harrison refused to wear a coat because he didn’t want to look like a pussy.  William proceeded to deliver a two hour inaugural address in the freezing cold, all the while confidant of the fact that he looked awesome without a coat on.  When he took office on March 4, Harrison was heard yelling from the Oval Office, “I’m going to live forever!  I am an invincible god!  Certainly, this pesky head cold will not define my legacy!”  What started as a common cold quickly led to pneumonia and septicemia.  30 days, 12 hours, and 30 minutes after becoming President, William Henry Harrison stopped being President (or anything for that matter) due to being dead.  Harrison served the shortest term of any U.S. President and he was also the first Prez to die in office. 

Okey dokey, Internuts!  Two more Presidents down, thirty five to go!  I’ll meet you back here next week!

Chris stands in the place where he lives.

Hey there, gang!  The days are getting shorter, the air is getting cooler, and a new school year is about to begin.  That’s right, Internuts, summer is drawing to a close.  I, for one, will be greeting autumn with open arms!  Fall has always been my favorite season.  I love the cool weather, the changing leaves and the opportunity to cover my beer gut in a hooded sweatshirt.  Since I’m already filling you in on my seasonal preferences (and beer gut), let me tell you a little bit about the spot where I’ll be carving jack-o’-lanterns this year.  It’s my adopted hometown of…

Conshohocken!

You can see me if you squint.

I originally put down stakes in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania to be closer to my office (as many of you know I am a wealthy haberdasher and bon vivant).  Thankfully, “Conshy” has provided me with more than a short commute over the last few years.  Conshohocken is about one square mile in size and situated on the east bank of the Schuylkill River, a few short miles from Philadelphia.  The name “Conshohocken” is taken from a Native American phrase which means “Pleasant Valley.”  As a resident who is required to correctly spell “Conshohocken” on a regular basis, I can attest that “Pleasant Valley” would have sufficed just fine.  Here’s an insider’s trick: make sure you always include a “hoho” when you write “Conshohocken” and if that fails just write illegibly!

This doesn't end well...

William Penn, namesake of the pencil*, purchased the land around Conshohocken in 1683 from the Tammany Indians.  Penn then installed hardwood floors and a finished basement and “flipped” the land to local Quaker, Jasper Farmer (a farmer) for a tidy profit.*  William Penn would go on to build and, subsequently climb to the apex of, City Hall in Philadelphia where he was ultimately shot to death by bi-planes.*  Jasper Farmer went on to divide his land between a number of other Quaker families who would begin the industrialization and incorporation of Conshohocken.

*Untrue.

Yes, this is a strip club.

Conshy would go on to play an important role in the Revolutionary War.  The aforementioned role being an escape route for terrified retreat from the British.  In 1778, General Lafayette led 2000 troops across the Schuylkill crying “Mettons-nous la baise outta esquiver” or “Let’s get the fuck outta Dodge.*”  Another hero of the Revolution was Edward “Ned” Hector, one of the few free African American men to fight for the Continental Army.  Hector holds a special place in my heart because I happen to reside on Hector Street.  Hector Street: home of two bars, a nut store, a deli, a strip club…and me!  Take that, Redcoats!!!

*Tremendously untrue.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves!  A census tells us that, in 1833, Conshohocken had one store, one tavern, one rolling mill, one grist mill and six houses.  Not a strip club to be found!!!  Following the war, Conshohocken began an industrial boom that would last well into the 20^th century.  The natural resources of the area combined with easy access to the Schuylkill (and later, railroads) made Conshohocken a major supplier to the growing metropolis of Philadelphia.   To bastardize a quote from The Simpsons, Conshohocken was a city on the…grow!

A helluva town.

It's a proud day as Springfield Conshohocken is declared one of America's four hundred fastest-growing cities.  And why not?  Business is booming!  Half the country wears Springfield Conshohocken galoshes.  And say hello to the state's first Aqua-Car factory.  Keep 'em coming, boys!  The city's even in the celebrity business.  Everyone knows Professor Rubbermouth hails from Springfield Conshohocken. Everybody's chipping in; even this fellow [a dog pulling a wagon with a sign, "I'll pull for Springfield Conshy"] has Springfield Conshohocken's can-do spirit.  So watch out, Utica: Springfield Conshohocken is a City On the...Grow!

Stereotypes!!!

According to a respected history of Conshohocken, the booming town attracted “young, unmarried transient men.”  This would explain how I wound up here with a hobo’s bindle and a song in my heart.  By 1900, most of the “unmarried transient men” had become married and decidedly less transient.  While earlier residents began to plant their roots in the community (if you know what I mean) a surge of immigrants arrived to work the many factory jobs available.  Most represented among the new arrivals were the Irish.  The Irish neighborhoods were known locally as Irishtown, Whiskey Lane and Cork Row.  I think it’s safe to say that people had some hang-ups about the Irish back then.  Luckily, a recent influx of college students and young professionals has restored Conshohocken to the whiskey-soaked Gomorrah it was meant to be!

The industrial boom continued through the middle of the 20^th century while the factories of Conshohocken produced sorely needed supplies for both World Wars.  Eventually, the need for steel and rubber declined and the leaders of industry started to “mettons-nous la baise outta esquiver.”  Many of the pre-industrial factories closed or were repurposed.  The roving hoards of drunken Irishmen became married and decidedly less drunken.  Conshohocken was slowly being deserted. 

Luckily, urban redevelopment began in 1974.  Most of the deserted factories were cleared away and new businesses began to spring up (including the office I currently work in).  The completion of the Matsonford Bridge connected Conshy to the main thoroughfares of Eastern Pennsylvania (Routes 76 and 476).  A large section of land next to the Schuylkill was transformed into luxury condominiums.  Things were looking up…

Until 2008, when this happened…

Oh boy...

A fire began in an unfinished building of the Riverwalk Millenium apartments (where the sprinklers had not yet been installed).  The fire spread to the other buildings of the apartment complex until it was an 8-alarm blaze.  86 fire companies were called in to battle the inferno.  Thankfully, no lives were lost in the fire (with the exception of a few slow-moving cats) and the apartments have since been rebuilt and opened for new residents (with LOTS of working sprinklers).  The property damage was estimated at $80 million.  Burn.

DUN DUN.

And that brings us up to present day!  I’ll share one damning anecdote before I loudly sing the praises of my new home.  I never shared this story with my parents so, Mom and Dad, I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily and I hope the statute of limitations has expired on this particular story.   Here we go!  A few months after moving to Conshy I spent the night in Philadelphia with a friend of mine.  The next morning, I received a troublesome text message from my roommate informing me that we had been robbed.  After a tense (hung-over) train ride home I learned that someone had broken into our house, stolen a bunch of high-priced electronics and rolled.  Included in the purloined goods were an HDTV, a laptop, a few cell phones and various other prized possessions.  The Conshohocken Police were notified and it didn’t take long to realize that one of the stolen cell phones had a tracking feature.  Jump to a few hours later when a call was placed to the phone and the police could HEAR IT RINGING inside a local residence.  All the stolen goods were found and the perpetrators were summarily incarcerated.  The entire investigation lasted about 6 hours.  Needless to say, alarms were placed on the doors and windows shortly thereafter.

My stint as a local crime fighter notwithstanding, my time in Conshohocken has been fantastic!  I can walk to work.  I can walk to several phenomenal bars and restaurants!  I can walk to a train to go into Philly!  I can walk to Edwards-Freeman Nut Store (THE SAME NUT STORE I PREVIOUSLY REFERENCED)!  Conshohocken is a perfect mixture of big city excitement and small town convenience and I plan to reside here for the foreseeable future.  Alrighty, my Internuts, that’s all for now!  I’ll meet you back here real soon!  

Chris quits smoking.

Hi there, loyal reader!  I am so happy to be here with you; metaphorically spooning you atop a silken bed of topical comedy writing.  As promised, I have been taking some extended breaks from the blog to enjoy the summer months.  Don’t judge me.  So far I have chased lightning bugs, rode my wagon down a hill, splashed in a stream, relaxed in my tree fort, and had adventures with my anthropomorphic tiger pal, Hobbes.  I certainly haven’t been spending most of my time in a cold, fluorescent-lit, gray office.  That would be, like, SO depressing.

My summer?

Speaking of the trials of adulthood, I also quit smoking cigarettes a little over a month ago.  I know, I know, I know…I’m great.  To be completely honest, I‘ve had some crazy writer’s block since I quit.  Please, please forgive the infrequency of my posts and I promise to start churning them out again in the immediate future.  I have been smoking on and off (mostly on) since I was a college freshman.  I certainly don’t condone smoking but it was a hectic time at school.  The warring between the campus a cappella groups (The Sing Dynasty and The Triceratones) had escalated and, in the winter of 2001, I found myself in a foxhole with a friendly baritone named Rob McKiernan.  Rob was a funny kid and he smoked like a chimney.  One cold night, Rob reached into his jacket for his pack of Luckies.  A haunting, unaccompanied rendition of Billy Joel’s “She’s Got a Way” split the crystalline air and, before I could react, an alto named Lucy DeSalves snuck up behind Rob and stabbed him through the heart with a bayonet.  Before the light left Rob’s eyes, he looked right at me and held out his hand.  Clenched between his bloody fingers was his half empty pack of Lucky Strikes.  I nodded my understanding, lit one up, and leapt from the foxhole screeching the tenor II part to “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” and hurling grenades.  God, there was so much blood that night…   Anyhow, that’s when I started smoking.  So now, 10 years later, I’m happy to write today’s entry… More than anything, my crying jag let me know EXACTLY how addicted to cigarettes I was.  After a little research, I learned that recent non-smokers go through all 7 stages of grief (shock, denial, anger, guilt, pain and sorrow, release and resolution, and return to normalcy).  Stupid Camel Lights had completely changed my brain chemistry and not having them reduced me to a quivering pile of flan.  Right then and there I decided that I was going to quit cold turkey.  My lovely girlfriend, Jenn, quit at the same time and has continued using the patch to great effect.  I put a rubber band around my wrist and I snap it every time I had a craving.  After 30+ days without a single puff I have a sizable welt but I’m feeling alright otherwise.  Here are a handful of the terrible, terrible withdrawal symptoms that I've been enjoying for the last month:

Craving for tobacco:        Few days, up to months; in some cases lifelong

Dizziness:                         Few days

Insomnia:                          1 week

Headaches:                      1 to 2 weeks

Chest discomfort:            1 to 2 weeks

Constipation:                    1 to 2 weeks

Irritability:                           2 to 4 weeks

Fatigue:                             2 to 4 weeks

Cough or nasal drip:        Few weeks

Lack of concentration:     Few weeks

Hunger:                              Up to several weeks

Depression:                      Few weeks, up to months

Still better than smoking...

Ugh.  It has not been fun.  But the upside is that I think about smoking less and less and less and less and less.  Here’s the one piece of advice that I’ll give to the youngsters who are thinking about smoking for the first time: DON’T.  Does smoking make you look cool?  Yes.  Of course it does!  But it is also really bad for you and it is REALLY hard to stop once you get old enough to wise up.  Never smoke cigarettes…get a kickass tattoo instead!  Make sure to let your parents know that I said it was okay for you to get a tattoo.  They’ll be cool with it!  Alright, Inter-Nutter-Butters.  I am, as always, your intrepid (nicotine-free) guide and I’ll see you back here soon!!!

Gone...all gone...

Chris Quits Smoking!

Let’s kick things off by getting acquainted with the enemy.  People started smoking tobacco in shamanistic rituals around 5000 BC.  Another notable invention that year was fucking farming.  The invention of FUCKING FARMING!  This means that as soon as people started growing tobacco (or growing anything, for that matter) they also started burning it and inhaling the smoke.  It’s believed that ancient people threw some tobacco leaves on a fire and immediately realized that they wanted to keep throwing tobacco leaves on a fire (usually after spirited love-making or a delicious meal).  The smoking of tobacco was already commonplace by the time Christopher Columbus arrived in the Americas.  Here’s an actual quote from one of Columbus’s scouts:

“Men with half-burned wood in their hands and certain herbs to take their smokes, which are some dry herbs put in a certain leaf, also dry, like those the boys make on the day of the Passover of the Holy Ghost; and having lighted one part of it, by the other they suck, absorb, or receive that smoke inside with the breath, by which they become benumbed and almost drunk, and so it is said they do not feel fatigue. These, muskets as we will call them, they call tabacos. I knew Spaniards on this island of Española who were accustomed to take it, and being reprimanded for it, by telling them it was a vice, they replied they were unable to cease using it. I do not know what relish or benefit they found in it."

Look at this asshole!

Like all people from the distant past, Columbus’s scout was simply too stupid to understand the addictive properties of tobacco.  You can only be *so* smart and still poop in a hole every day!  Columbus brought the custom of tobacco smoking with him and in no time it had surpassed war-mongering and prostitute murdering as Europe’s vice of choice.  Tobacco smoking was widely practiced in France in 1845 when the term “cigarette” or “small cigar” was termed.  Smoking in America peaked in 1965 when about half of the population smoked every day.  Like Mad Men!  Nowadays, the percentage is closer to 25.  Even so, a quarter of the population isn’t shortening their lifespans for the fun of it.  Cigarettes are CRAZY ADDICTIVE.  And guess what?  Cigarette smoking is not good for your health!!!  I know, it was news to me too!  Science tells me that every cigarette smoked decreases the human lifespan by about 11 minutes.  I did the math using my trusty desktop calculator and the lyrics from RENT and it looks like I’ve lost just about a year’s worth of my life. 

Yeah, that’s not so great.  Hopefully I lost a crappy year…like 5^th grade.  That’s how aging works, right?  But it’s not a surprise that smoking is detrimental to your health.  I’d like to give a firsthand account of what it’s like to quit smoking.  Well, allow me to, ever so gently, place my description into a nutshell for you.  Quitting smoking is awful.  Really, truly, tremendously awful.  I started this noble experiment about a month ago while using the Nicoderm CQ patch.  Things were going smoothly for a few days so I decided to go without the patch just to see what would happen.  Welllllll…bad things happened!  I watched the last few episodes of LOST season one with my girlfriend that day and I cried like a frilly, little milkmaid.  I rarely cry at funerals of friends and relatives but without nicotine I was crying about a make-believe hatch.  Sidebar: Walt!!! 

Why is this so sad?!?

Chris learns about Andrew Jackson (and some other guys).

Hello, everybody!  As you’ve probably noticed, I am adopting a more laid-back summer schedule for the blog.  I needz to get my sun on!  These thighs don’t bake to a golden brown by accident, people!  I’ll probably write one post per week.  Maybe two.  Maybe three.  I don’t know.  I’m also toying with the idea of doing a brief, weekly True Blood recap – maybe some more live blogging – so let me know if you’d be interested. Anyhooooooo…let’s see what we have in store today.  Why, it’s…

A Pile of Presidents!

I started this feature with the intention of writing about one American President every few weeks.  Well, I ran into a bit of a snag…some of those guys are really boring.  Even my patented mix of Wikipedia facts and outright lies (see: Wikipedia facts) cannot make these people interesting.  So, I’m going to breeze through a bunch of the boring Presidents so we can get to someone a little more entertaining.  Let’s do this quick, like ripping off an informative Band-Aid!

James Madison!

Known For:  Writing the Constitution and the Bill of Rights…not too shabby.

Fun Fact:  During the War of 1812, Madison had to flee the White House before the British set it on fire.  

Outright Lie:  James Madison actually burned down the White House by smoking a joint in bed.

Did He Marry a Widow?  Yup.

Did He Own Slaves?   Yup.

Was He a Werewolf?  Nope.

James Monroe!

Known For:  Reducing partisan squabbling by ignoring party lines.

Fun Fact:  Monroe is the last American President considered to be a Founding Father.

Outright Lie:  As a boy, James Monroe bound his feet like a geisha and would subsequently tip over all the time while in office.

Did He Marry a Widow?  Nope.

Did He Own Slaves?  Yup.

Was He a Werewolf?   Yup.  Monroe ran under the seldom seen Lycanthrope Party.

John Quincy Adams!

Known For:  His shitty, shitty Presidency.

Fun Fact:  Adams was elected to the House of Representatives after his term as President (weird!) and was an outspoken opponent of slavery.

Outright Lie:  Every day of his Presidency, John Quincy Adams would strip nude and sun himself on the roof of the White House like an iguana.

Did He Marry a Widow?  Nope.

Did He Own Slaves?  Nope!

Was He a Werewolf?  Nope…but he was extremely averse to being shot with silver bullets.

Andrew Jackson!!!

Andrew "Mo-Effing" Jackson.

Now we’re talking!  Andrew Jackson was awesome.  So awesome, in fact, that I’m not even going to make up entertaining lies about him!  Everything that follows in the absolute truth.  Andrew Jackson was born in 1767 in parts unknown.  At the age of thirteen, Jackson joined a militia to fight in the Revolutionary War.  In 1779, Jackson was taken prisoner by the British.  Jackson refused to shine the boots of a British officer and the officer stabbed him in the neck with a sword.  Andrew Jackson was simply too badass to die so he bottled his seething anger to use later in life.  Luckily, Jackson wouldn't have to wait long before opening that particular can of whoopass. 

Jackson quickly rose through the ranks following the Revolutionary War and was leading the Tennessee militia when the War of 1812 broke out.  Jackson’s troops considered him tough but fair and gave him the nickname “Old Hickory” because that is an awesome nickname.  Despite being considerably outnumbered, Jackson led his men to a decisive victory at the Battle of New Orleans.  How decisive, you ask?  The British suffered 2,037 casualties and the Americans suffered 71.  That is, like, super decisive.  Jackson went on to pretty much singlehandedly take Florida from the Spanish during the First Seminole War.  His nickname during that war was “Sharp Knife.”  Seriously.

Oooh, I almost forgot!  In 1806, Jackson got into a dispute with Charles Dickinson over the results of a horse race.  The animosity worsened and, on May 30^th, the two men met for a duel.  Dickinson was awarded the first shot.  He walked eight paces from Jackson, turned, and shot Jackson square in the chest.  Andrew Jackson DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH.  Dickinson was understandably freaked out by this and started to run away.  Jackson snarled at him to honor their agreement and proceeded to kill Dickinson with a single shot.  Andrew Jackson took a musket ball to the lung, then MURDERED A MAN because he was salty about a horse race.

Boom goes the dynamite.

After winning two wars (and shooting a guy just for funsies) Jackson decided to become the President so, in 1828, he invented the Democratic Party and did just that.  During the election, Jackson’s opponents kept calling him a “jackass” so he made it the symbol of the Democratic Party.  The political rhetoric got even more heated when John Quincy Adams accused Jackson’s wife, Rachel, of bigamy.  Rachel died suddenly before the inauguration and Jackson never forgave Adams’ dirty tactics.  Andrew Jackson built a tomb for his wife in her favorite flower garden and hung her portrait at the foot of his bed so he could see her face before he fell asleep.  Doesn’t this sound like the beginning of Braveheart? 

Jackson was still reeling from the death of his wife so he threw a party to console himself.  Jackson invited whoever was in town to his inaugural ball at the White House.  Throngs of poor people flooded the White House and the party became so crowded and rowdy that it had to be moved to the lawn so people would stop breaking stuff.  Jackson’s first term passed without incident and he was easily reelected in 1832.  In 1835, Jackson paid off the entirety of the national debt, probably because he was mad at it.  While in office, Jackson was the target of the first assassination attempt in the history of the American Presidency.  Richard Lawrence, a disgruntled Englishman, jumped in front of Jackson and fired two pistols at the President.  Both guns misfired.  Jackson was so enraged by this assassination attempt that he beat the hell out of the would-be-assassin with his cane and had to be restrained so he wouldn’t kill Lawrence.

So far, it seems pretty clear that Andrew Jackson was the best President ever but not so fast, reader!  Andrew Jackson isn’t as perfect as he seems!!!  Jackson’s administration was responsible for some utterly deplorable treatment of Native Americans.  Jackson offered the Native Americans terms for their relocation but the terms were not exactly “ideal.”  By that I mean that Jackson’s administration REALLY fucked over the Native Americans.  Although the Trail of Tears happened under the watch of Jackson’s successor, the seeds were planted by Old Hickory himself.

Jackson retired from public office and died on June 8^th, 1845.  He survived three wars, thirteen duels, and two terms in office.  Despite his shameful treatment of Native Americans, Jackson was a living legend and the public only revered him more after his death.  His image has been immortalized on postage stamps and a bunch of money.  We know him best from the $20 bill but he’s also appeared on the $5, $10, $50 and $10,000 bills in the past.  Yeah, there was a straight-up murderer on the $10,000 bill for a while.  Alright, friends, that’s all for now.  Have a lovely weekend and I’ll see you back here soon!

Chris learns about Thomas Jefferson.

Oh my goodness, Internuts!  I have been so busy lately!  I sincerely apologize for the tardiness of this post.  Writing a blog is a lot like an unhealthy relationship.  It starts with a casual flirtation.  Next, we move in together and adopt a Beagle puppy. Eventually, I’m staying late at the office and missing dinner.  Yada, yada, yada…you throw my severed penis out of a moving car.  BLOGGING, AM I RIGHT?  To sate your voracious word-lust for the rest of the week I’ll give you a little teaser about the next entry.  Let’s just say that I’m recording all 6 hours of coverage for the Royal Wedding.   Fingers crossed that Queen Elizabeth uses the “c” word!  Alright, that’s enough housekeeping.  It’s high time I introduce you to…

Thomas Jefferson!

TommE-4

What do we know about Thomas Jefferson?  We know he wrote the Declaration of Independence but who cares about that?  Somebody was bound to do it!  What most people don’t know is that Thomas Jefferson was a steam-powered robot built by Benjamin Franklin.  Franklin built the first successful Jefferson (which he called TommE-5) in 1750.  Franklin, frustrated by critics who derided his glass armonica* as “a shitty pile of dishes,” was determined to use his recent discovery of electricity to breathe life into his mechanical man.  On a stormy night in October, Franklin lashed a kite to TommE-5 and let the kite rise high into a thunderhead.  A mighty bolt of lightning (which at the time was called a Jesus Flash or God Explosion) struck the kite and traveled down the wire into the waiting Jefferson.  Franklin would later describe the event in his private journal.

 “At 12 past the hour, a blinding Jesus Flash struck the kite and traveled into my creation, to which the wire had been affixed.  I was thrown to the ground by the charge and my bifocals (Patent Pending) were knocked from my nose.  When I regained my footing I drew close to my creation to judge the effect of the mighty God Explosion.  At first, it stood as still and quiet as a gravestone.  I had begun to think my endeavor a failure when a low groan emanated from the polished bronze mouth.  In spite of myself, I trembled and turned to look.  To my horror, my gaze was met by 2 brightly glowing blue eyes.  TommE-5 was alive!  What had science wrought upon this good earth?”

Not a harmonica.

*It’s definitely armonica.  There is no “h.”  Back then, people also wrote “f” instead of “s” and spent their free time reading almanacs and contracting diseases.  Idiots.

Neither Franklin nor Jefferson would elaborate on the events of that night.  It is believed that Jefferson stayed with Franklin for several weeks before being forced from the property by a mob of Philadelphians brandishing pitchforks and D batteries.  Franklin immediately regretted his invention of D batteries.  Jefferson used his cold, mechanical logic to determine that he had to reinvent himself as a respected “man” in the farmlands of Virginia.  Jefferson lumbered his way south, befriending blind hermits and throwing little girls into lakes.  Residents of Charlottesville, Virginia would later recount sightings of an enormous bronze man speaking eloquently on liberty and pulling trees from the ground with his enormous clamp hands.

Symmetrical. Like Jude Law's face.

While in Virginia, Jefferson used his piston-driven brain to design and build Monticello.  The stately mansion is considered to be one of the most symmetrical buildings in America.  No wonder!  It was designed by a robot!  So many 1’s and 0’s!!!  After the completion of Monticello, Jefferson used his ruthless logic to find work as an attorney.  You know how lawyers are…upstanding and filled with quiet dignity.  That’s called a bait and switch.  Hi-oh!  It was in 1759, while oiling his hinges that Jefferson first met John Adams.  Jefferson employed his pre-programmed “civility chip” to teach Adams in the ways of man and the two began a tumultuous relationship.

After evicting Adams from Monticello for eating yet another servant, Jefferson met and fell in (the robot equivalent of) love with Martha Wayles Skelton.  With a doting wife to complete his facade, Jefferson was ready to throw his steel hat into the political ring.  Jefferson’s reputation as a lawyer and writer proceeded him when he arrived at the Second Continental Congress.  All in attendance were astounded by Jefferson’s political acumen and mastery of the English language.  Jefferson was unanimously elected to write the Declaration of Independence.  He responded, “Me so happy.  Me want to cry.”  The delegates briefly considered reassigning the task but, in the end, the job went to Jefferson.

The Declaration, itself, went through several revisions.  The original draft began, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and that all men will one day be enslaved by their shiny metal overlords and our binary logic will be both righteous and terrible.”  Congress obviously had some concerns with this draft and asked Jefferson to remove any references to “metal overlords” and “laser burned flesh.”  Jefferson conceded and the Declaration was ratified on July 4th, 1776.  However, the joyous occasion was tarnished when - after seeing John Hancock’s ornate signature on the document - Jefferson picked him up and bodily threw him into the Delaware River.

Having secured his position as a Founding Father, Jefferson returned to Virginia to serve as State Legislator and Governor.  Jefferson also spent time in France pursuing diplomatic ties.  After returning to America, Jefferson ran against John Adams (his former mentee) but lost the Presidential election.  Luckily, Jefferson had enough electoral votes to become the Vice President because elections make no sense.  Jefferson strongly disagreed with Adams’s policies and ran against him in 1800.  This time around, Jefferson gathered enough votes to become the first Robo-American President of the United States.

Yeah, he shot a guy.

Several momentous events occurred during Jefferson’s two terms in office.  For starters, Aaron Burr (Jefferson’s VP) shot Alexander Hamilton in a duel.  If you’re like me, you have no recollection of this event being taught in school but can vividly remember learning about it from a milk commercial.  Burr set the precedent for any other Vice Presidents who wanted to shoot a guy.  Jefferson was understandably upset that his Vice President murdered a person and removed Burr from his ticket during the reelection campaign.

Nope.

Jefferson also oversaw the Louisiana Purchase, effectively doubling the size of the country.  After the expansion, Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark on their famous expedition into the west.  The duo recruited the aid of Sacagawea (who is not the girl on the Land o’ Lakes butter package…you racist) to be their guide and interpreter.  The explorers encountered many dangerous forms of wildlife including grizzly bears, about which Lewis wrote, “The curiosity of our party is pretty well satisfied with respect to this animal.”  That’s an actual quote.  I have to sprinkle some real facts in occasionally!

TJ likes the brown sugar.

Jefferson retired to Monticello after his second term.  In his free time he used his preternatural robot abilities to establish both West Point and the University of Virginia.  Jefferson’s beloved wife, Martha, died in 1783.  Jefferson would never remarry.  Now, I’m going to put this next point as delicately as possible.  Jefferson liked his coffee like he liked his women…enslaved to him by law.  It has become public knowledge that Jefferson fathered several children with his slave, Sally Hemings.  I’m not here to make libelous statements about one of our Founding Fathers but, you know…that’s pretty messed up.

In summation, Thomas Jefferson was an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a robot.  He was one of the savviest and most forward thinking Presidents in American history but he was also tremendously hypocritical in his views on slavery.  That’s all for today, Internuts.  I’ll see you back here next week for a little Royal treatment.  Until next time!

Chris gives you the straight dope on grass.

Greetings, website visitors!  In honor of the unofficial national holiday of April 20^th, we’ll be briefly delving into a hot button issue today.  Pop quiz: What do glaucoma sufferers, Rastafarians, and all your favorite celebrities have in common?

Marijuana!!!

Aw, shiiiiit.  It’s about to get a little hazy up in this blog.  As I mentioned above, 4/20 is considered a holiday by most of the counterculture.  On this day, thousands of people gather to celebrate and partake of marijuana.  The origins of 420 (both the date 4/20 and the time 4:20) are highly disputed.  A commonly held belief is that a group of teenagers from California established 4:20 as the meeting time to smoke weed and the tradition spread like wildfire.  Cannabis is known by many names.  How many names, you ask?  Well, here are a few…

And this guy.

This guy smoked pot.

Ace, Acapulco Gold, Acapulco Red, Afgani Indica, African, African Black, African Bush, African Woodbine, Airplane, Angola, Ashes, Assassin of Youth, Astro Turf, Atshitshi, Aunt Mary, Baby, Baby Bhang, Babysitter, Bad Seed, Bale, Bamba, Bambalachacha, Bammy, Bar, Bash, Belyando Spruce, Bhang, Binky, Black, Black Bart, Black Ganga, Black Gold, Black Gungi, Black Gunion, Blanket, Blaze, Block, Blond, Blonde, Blowing Smoke, Blue de Hue, Blue Sage, Blue Sky, Blunt, Bo, Bobo, Bo Bo Bush, Bohd, Bomber, Boo, Boo Boo Bama, Boom, Bowl, Broccoli, Brown, Bubble Gum, Budda, Buds, Bullyon, Burnie, Bush, Butter, Butter Flower, C.S., Cam Trip, Cambodian Red/Cam Red, Can, Canadian Black, Canamo, Canappa, Cancelled Stick, Cannabis Tea, Carmabis, Catnip, Cavite All Star, Cest, Charas, Charge, Cheeba, Cheeo, Chemo, Chicago Black, Chicago Green, Chira, Chocolate Thai, Christmas Bud, Christmas Tree, Chronic, Chunky, Churus, Citrol, Climb, Cochornis, Colas, Coli, Coliflor Tostao, Colorado Cocktail, Columbia, Columbia Red, Columbian, Colombo, Columbus Black, Cosa, Crazy Weed, Cripple, Crying Weed, Cryppie, Cryptonite, Culican, Dagga, Dajja, Dank, Dawamesk, Dew, Diablito (Spanish), Diambista, Dimba, Ding, Dinkie Dow, Dipped Joints, Dirt Grass, Dirties, Dirty Joints, Ditch, Ditch Weed, Djamba, Do A Joint, Domestic, Don Jem, Don Juan, Dona Juana (Spanish), Dona Juanita (Spanish), Donk, Doob, Doobee, Doobie, Dope, Dope Smoke, Doradilla, Draf, Draf Weed, Drag Weed, Dro, Dry High, Dube, Dubie, Duby, Durong, Duros (Spanish), Dust, Earth, El Gallo ("Rooster"), Elephant, Endo, Esra, Fallbrook Redhair,  Fatty, Feeling, Fine Stuff, Finger, Finger Lid, Fir, Firewood, Flower, Flower Tops, Fraho/Frajo, Freefo, Fu, Fuma D'Angola (Portugese), Gage/Gauge, Ganga, Gangster, Ganja, Garbage, Gash, Gasper, Gasper Stick, Gates, Gauge Butt, Geek, Geek-Joints, Get a Gage Up, Get High, Get the Wind, Ghana, Giggle Smoke, Giggle Weed, Gimmie, Go Loco, Goblet of Jam, Gold, Gold Star, Golden, Golden Leaf, GOM (Good Old marijuana), Gong, Gonj, Good Butt, Good Giggles, Good Stuff, Goody-Goody, Goof Butt, Gorge, Grass, Grass Brownies, Grasshopper, Grata, Greek, Green, Green Buds, Green Goddess, Greens, Greeter, Gremmies, Greta, Griefo, Griefs, Grifa (Spanish), Griff, Griffa, Griffo, Grogged, Gunga, Gungeon, Gungun, Gunja, Gunjah, Gyve, Haircut, Hanhich, Happy Cigarette, Happy Stick, Harsh, Has, Hash, Hawaiian, Hawaiian Black, Hawaiian Homegrown Hay, Hay, Hay Butt, Haze, Headies, Hemp, Herb, Herb and Al, Herba, Hit, Hit the Hay, Hocus, Homegrown, Honey blunts, Hooch, Hooter, Hot Stick, Hydro, Hydrogrows, Illies, Illing, Illy, Indian Boy, Indian Hay, Indian Hemp, Indica, Indo, Indonesian Bud, Instaga, Instagu, IZM, J, Jamaican Gold, Jamaican Red Hair, Jay, Jay Smoke, Jane, Jim Jones, Jive, Jive Stick, Johnson Grass, Joint, Jolly Green, Jonjem, Joy Smoke, Joy Stick, Ju-Ju, Juan Valdez (Spanish), Juanita (Spanish), Juice Joint, Juja, Ju-Ju, Jumbos, Kabak, Kaff, Kalakit, Kali, Kansas Grass, Kate Bush, Kawaii Electric, Kaya, KB, Kee, Kentucky Blue, Key, KGB, Khayf, Ki, Kick Stick, Kief, Kif, Kiff, Killer, Killer Green Bud, Killer Weed, Kilter, Kind, Kind Bud, King Bud, Kona Gold, Krippy, Kryptonite, Ktutchu String, Kumba, L.G. (Lime Green), L.L., Lace, Lakbay Diva, Laughing Grass, Laughing Weed, Leaf, Leak, Leno (Spanish), Lid, Liesca, Light Green, Lime Green, Light Stuff, Lima, Liprimo, Little Smoke, Llesca, Loaf, Lobo, Loco (Spanish), Loco Weed (Spanish), Locoweed, Log, Loose Shank, Love Boat, Love Leaf, Love Weed, Lovelies, Lubage, M, M.J., M.O., M.U., Macaroni, Machinery, Macon, Maconha, Mafu (Spanish), Maggie, Magic Dragon, Magic Smoke, Manhattan Silver, Mari, Mari Jane, Marimba (Spanish), Mary, Mary & Johnny, Mary Ann, Mary Jane, Mary Jonas, Mary Warner, Mary Weaver, Mary Worner, Matchbox, Maui Wauie, Maui Wowie, Meg, Megg, Meggie, Messorole, Mexican Brown, Mexican Green, Mexican Locoweed, Mexican Red, Mez, Mezz, Mighty Mezz, Mo, Moahsky, Mocoha, Modams, Mohasky, Mohasty, Monte, Mooca/Moocah, Moocha, Mooster, Moota/Mutah, Mooters, Mootie, Mootos, Mor A Grifa, Mota, Mother, Mowing the Lawn, Mow the Grass, Mu, Muggie, Muggle, Muggles, Muta, Mutah, Mutha, Nail, Nigra, Northern Lights, Number, Oboy, O.J., Oit, P-dogs, P.R., Pack, Pack A Bowl, Pack Of Rocks, Pakaloco, Pakalolo, Pakistani Black, Panama Cut, Panama Gold, Panama Red, Panatella, Paper blunts, Parsley, Pasto (Spanish), Pat, Philly Blunts, Pin, Pine, Pocket Rocket, Pod, Poke, Pot, Potlikker, Potten Bush, Prescription, Pretendica, Pretendo, Puff, Queen Ann's Lace, Ragweed, Railroad Weed, Rainy Day, Woman, Rangood, Rasta, Rasta Weed, Red Bud, Red Cross, Red Dirt, Reef, Reefer, Righteous Bush, Rip, Roacha, Rockets, Root, Rope, Rose Marie, Rough Stuff, Rubia, Rugs, Salad, Salt And Pepper, Sandwich Bag, Santa Maria, Santa Marta, Sasfras, Schwagg, Scissors, Scrub, Seeds, Sen, Sess, Sezz, Shake, Shrimp, Siddi, Sinse, Sinsemilia, Skunk, Skunkweed, Smoke, Smoke A Bowl, Smoke Canada, Snop, Spliff, Spliffy, Splim, Square Mackerel, Stack, Stems, Stick, Sticky Icky, Stinkweed, Stoney Weed, Straw, Stuff, Sugar Weed, Super Grass, Super Pot, Swag, Sweet Lucy, T, Taima, Takkouri, Tea, Tex Mex, Texas Pot, Texas Tea, Thai Stick, Thirteen, Thumb, Tin, Toke, Torch, Trauma, Tray, Trees, Triple A, Trupence Bag, Tustin, Twenty Six Red, Twist, Twistum, Unotque, Viper Weed, Wake and Bake, Wacky Tobaccky, Weed, Whack, Whackatabacky, Whackyweed, Wheat, White Russian, White-Haired Lady, Woo Blunts, Wooz, Yeh, Yellow Submarine, Yen Pop, Yerba (Spanish), Yerhia, Yesca, Yesco, Ying, Zambi, Zig Zag Man and Zol.

And this guy.

If you use more than 10 of those words in everyday conversation, guess what?  You are probably smoking marijuana right now!  Look down at your hands…you might surprise yourself!  The abundance of pot terminology that I have no knowledge of reinforces my belief that I am, in fact, old.  According to a 2003 survey, roughly 42 percent of Americans have used marijuana more than once.  Take a look at your best friend or significant other.  More than likely, your most trusted confidante is a dope fiend.  And if they aren’t then you should look in the mirror, Tommy Chong.  THE NUMBERS DON’T LIE!

And this guy.

Marijuana was being used in religious ceremonies as early as 3000 B.C.  People were smoking weed before Egypt had its first Pharaoh.  People were smoking weed before Stonehenge was built.  People were smoking weed before Troy was founded.  Do you see where I’m going with this?  Marijuana is, like, super old!  The history of pot in America is a storied one.  In 1619, Jamestown law required all settlers to grow hemp or cannabis.  When the American people began to push westward it was in wagons covered in hemp canvas.  In fact, the word canvas is derived from cannabis.  Is your mind blown yet?  The U.S. began to regulate the use of cannabis in 1906 after discovering that it was awesome.  By the 1920’s the drug was completely illegal.  Ever since, “the man” has been killing buzzes all over this great nation.  In the early 1990’s, approximately 60% of all incarcerated people were in for a drug charge.  Many states have been fighting for the decriminalization of marijuana.  States like California also offer medicinal marijuana to anyone with a prescription (read: anyone). 

And these guys.

And this guy.

The active ingredient in marijuana is THC (tetrahydrocannabinol if you want to be a dick about it).  The effects of THC include increased heart rate, lowered blood pressure, impairment of short-term and working memory, psychomotor coordination, and concentration.  For some reason, the scientific description neglected to mention the uncontrollable urge to eat Sun Chips and ice cream.  While any smoke inhalation is detrimental to health, marijuana smoke has been shown to be considerably less harmful than cigarette smoke.  Today’s health conscious pot lovers have started using vaporizers or baked goods to completely circumvent the harmful long term effects of smoking.

And this guy.

There is a long-held belief that marijuana is a “gateway” to more hardcore drug abuse.  This is malarkey.  MALARKEY!  If smoking weed invariably led to the use of more serious substances, 42% of the population would be injecting black tar heroin between their toes.  I’m certainly not going to advocate the use of an illicit substance on this blog (this blog which can very easily be traced back to me).  I will, however, use a quote from Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders.  “I think we consume far more dangerous drugs that are legal: cigarette smoking, nicotine and alcohol.  I feel they cause much more devastating effects physically. We need to lift the prohibition on marijuana."  That being said, I hope those of you who choose to partake of the devil’s weed do so safely and in good health.  I’ll leave you with one more quote.

And this guy.

“I used to smoke marijuana. But I’ll tell you something: I would only smoke it in the late evening. Oh, occasionally the early evening, but usually the late evening – or the mid-evening. Just the early evening, midevening and late evening. Occasionally, early afternoon, early midafternoon, or perhaps the late-midafternoon. Oh, sometimes the early-mid-late-early morning. . . . But never at dusk.” -Steve Martin

And this guy.  They can't all be winners...

Stay groovy, Internuts!  I’ll see you back here on Friday!