Talkin' Turkey

Myth:  Thanksgiving Day in America.  A time-honored celebration of goodwill and plentiful food is historically rooted in the colony town of Plymouth, Massachusetts.  Though there exist several theories – ranging from earlier festivals transpiring in Virginia to the Spanish celebrating a giving of thanks during the 16^th century in Florida – the common conception of pilgrims breaking away from the Church of England, traveling to America in search of religious freedom and their subsequent celebration of a good harvest and peace with the natives still holds sway.  In the year 1620, the Puritan seafarers aboard the famed Mayflower set foot on what would later be American soil.  The following year, these white settlers glorified their higher power and the benevolence of the local Wampanoag tribe, who aided the pilgrims in the teaching of fishing and planting techniques, by holding a proper feast around the fall harvest.  Sporadic attempts to replicate this contested “original” Thanksgiving were common in early 17^th century colonial New England, but it wasn’t until the late 17^th century that the feast became a common occurrence.  To put it simply, Thanksgiving Day owes its prominence to the blending of two cultures – native and colonial – and their similar practices of celebrating a bountiful harvest (European) and the end of the harvest season (native American).  All theories aside, the idea of honoring one’s bounty regardless of ethnic origin or class resonates most loudly during modern day Thanksgiving festivities.

Fact:  The first Thanksgiving did indeed occur at Plymouth in 1621 and it was a splendid occasion, marked most notably by the peaceful agreement between the two cultures on what the fare would be at such a feast.  The local native Americans, or Wampanoag, and the pilgrims seamlessly generated a meal that would satisfy all and offend no one: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn (or maize), cranberries and Sara Lee’s enviable pumpkin pie (Sara Lee was a 50-year-old pilgrim bachelorette who compensated for her homely nature and grand girth by making such delicacies).  The feast was a success for both political and cultural progress between the two factions, though the native Americans did outstay their welcome just a tad as they were passive aggressively kicked out of pilgrim territory at around 10:00 that evening.  Social faux-pas aside, it was agreed that a second Thanksgiving would occur on the same date the following year, but this time the Wampanoag would host the event.  The pilgrims passed the time and lost their Thanksgiving weight of 1621 by partaking in the classic post-holiday exercise of “getting the shit scared out of them during Sunday services by the fire and brimstone pastor and then fleeing.”  The name of the exercise was later shortened to running.  A year passed and weight was lost, and so the second annual Thanksgiving was nigh.  The pilgrims loaded into their carts, or Dutch Sedans as they were called, and set off for the Wampanoag village on Thanksgiving Day.  The air was charged with the excitement for the feast to come.  All sat down on the rustic benches, as the Wampanoag began circulating the day’s fare.  A John Dartmouth Plain described his reaction following the daily prayer: “I lifted my head after giving thanks to my Lord only to find a side of stuffing, my favorite of last year’s morsels mind you, dotted with bits of apricot.  Let me repeat myself.  Apricots.  Are you fucking kidding me!  Oh Lord, forgive my language, but you, the most high, must know that such a transgression with Thanksgiving fare be a blasphemy.”  Mr. Plain was upset indeed, but that was just the beginning.  The governor of the Massachusetts colony was supposed to carve the turkey that macabre evening, but he would only find a plate of lasagna to square off and give to his enraged constituents.  The pilgrims flew into a fury.  The Wampanoag were in shock and could not understand why such animosity filled their village, for they “only wanted to try something different this year.”  Before leaving, the governor looked the Wampanoag chief directly in the eye and said, “A wrath will come upon your people for such insolence.”  Some historians believe that wrath did come, lasted a bit too long, and may have even crossed the line.

Wag the Dog

Myth:  Benjamin Franklin was an Ambassador to France, inventor, postmaster, politician, theorist, satirist, deist, scientist and author, among many other notable professions.  He was a brilliant man who advocated a virtuous lifestyle, and yet lived contrarily at times as a playboy and partaking in all things lascivious.  Father of an illegitimate child and rabid supporter of liberty and equality, Franklin was a complex man with even more complicated views and perspectives.  All this being said, he was a man of the people and was a vital component to the success of the American Revolution and subsequent establishment of a grand new republic.  Respected by most, he died at the old age of 84 in 1790, leaving behind a legacy that would catapult him to the status of legend.  The bald politician, with his famed bespectacled countenance flanked by soft locks flowing from his temples, was a main catalyst during the excitement and transformation that defined 18^th century colonial, revolutionary, and post-revolutionary America.

Fact:  In my previous volume, my readers were shaken and awed by the fact that George Washington was nothing but a piece of lumber.  And now I must, with a sense of duty to the clouded world that is American History, unmask the true nature of yet another Founding Father.  Once more, the sick and twisted mind of John Adams was the puppeteer behind the life of another American icon – Benjamin Franklin.  Originally born under the single name of “Benji” to a mother and seven siblings locked in a steel cage in the living room of the Adams’ household, Benji was destined for greatness as he exhibited extreme intelligence compared to his siblings.  But one may first ask: “What monster would lock a woman and her children in a steel cage?”  I would simply respond, “A man with dogs.”  That’s right, Benjamin Franklin was nothing but a dog.  Look at the one hundred dollar bill the next chance you get, and look closely.  Bald head, wispy hair at the sides and a pair of tiny spectacles – it is a classic case of a cocker spaniel wearing glasses.  Franklin was a purebred American buff cocker spaniel.  Adams often brought Franklin with him to the Continental Congress meetings and sat him on his lap.  Most thought the spaniel to be the distinguished face of an accomplished old man needing the assistance of a fellow friend, but Adam’s does record a close call when cocky John Hancock grilled Adams on the true nature of his trusted “lapdog”: “Hey Adams, I’m on to you, you stout little shit.  Most of these ruffians will kowtow to your suggestions and political maneuvers because of Franklin’s cute face.  No one can turn down the face of a spaniel.  Yeah, he’s not deaf my dear sir, he just simply cannot respond…because he’s just a dog!”  Adams was in a tight space, but what Hancock didn’t know was that Adams was an accomplished ventriloquist, often appearing as headliner at Ye Olde Improv on Saturday nights.  So, out of nowhere, a gruff old voice seemed to emanate from Franklin’s mouth: “How dare you, sir!  Call me a dog, will you.  I am but a poor old man who has more intellect and tenacity than the entirety of this congregation.”  Hancock, stunned, apologized profusely and gingerly patted Franklin on the head before leaving with his tail between his legs.  Adams did most of the speaking on the behalf of Benji, but once Franklin was appointed Ambassador to France Adams had no choice but to stay behind.  Though this seemed like a disaster in the making, Adams knew the French wouldn’t suspect a thing since the French politicians regularly ate voraciously and humped each other’s legs at political dinners.  And in 18^th century France, actions spoke louder than words.  Benji did not disappoint as the spaniel humped his way to high status among the French statesmen, earning him the reputation of playboy that we all know Franklin as today.  Adams had masterfully wagged the dog and diverted attention from the canine inclinations of Benji, utilizing Franklin’s puppyish nature to woo statesmen to do his biddings.

Greek Olives

Myth:  A grossly outnumbered Athenian army defeated a massive Persian force at the Battle of Marathon in 490 B.C.  More interestingly, the modern concept of the marathon  – a grueling 26.2-mile foot race – directly stemmed from the news reaching the Athenians that their men had held the day.  Legend states that Pheidippides, a Greek runner and messenger, ran without stopping from Marathon to Athens to announce that the Athenians were victorious.  The approximately 25-mile run so exhausted Pheidippides that he collapsed and died shortly after proclaiming the good news.  Men such as Pheidippides were a unique species among men.  Greek messengers faced innumerable dangers, including passing through hostile territory, thus they had to exhibit great stamina and strength in order to fulfill their arduous duties.

Fact:  Pheidippides was not the most modest of men; one might even say he was a dick.  At a young age Pheidippides enjoyed the limelight as an esteemed Greek messenger, boasting some of the fastest times between Greek city-states.  But fate soon intervened and the indomitable Pheidippides was diagnosed with Olivepititis, or testicular cancer in modern English (a Greek man’s “olive pits” were of the utmost importance to his manhood).  Though Pheidippides was struck down by such a demoralizing affliction, he recovered over a period of several years, ultimately avowing that he would return to his status as a premier messenger.  His wife and family had suffered with him, but true to his nature, Pheidippides maintained his cocky and affected attitude – some accounts even attest that he surpassed his original narcissism after the cancer subsided.  Despite his boorish behavior, the masses still lauded the return of their champion messenger.  Pheidippides realized that his admirers could be exploited – severely so.  As pita bread was such a highly prized fixture of Athenian culture, Pheidippides decided to capitalize on his new identity by taking strips of Athenian gold (pita bread) and soaking it in saffron.  The result: a yellow band of wheat that could be tied around one’s wrist – homage to the returned “hero.”  Pheidippides made a fortune off this scheme.  He became so self-involved that he even divorced his loving wife who had supported him during his illness for a woman more akin to the goddess Hera (Fun Fact: Hera was actually a popular stripper name at the time, much like Misty is today).  Not long after he started courting the famous wooden piper, Sherylonos Cronus, he parted with her as well.  After his triumphant run from Marathon to Athens, Pheidippides’ luck ran out.  Though legend states that he died on that day, his death was merely metaphorical – the death of his integrity.  Other messengers began coming forward, informing the public that Pheidippides had been, ever since his first message, eating the hoof of a lamb.  And if you are versed in the classics, you are well aware that “lamb hoofing” was condemned as a performance-enhancing activity by the Athenian Sprinting Symposium, or ASS.  Pheidippides still owned the rights to the pita bands, but his reputation had been sullied.  He was nothing more than a dick above a single olive pit.

LOST

Myth:  On July 4^th, 1584, English explorers reached the shores of Roanoke Island with intended plan of constructing a permanent settlement in present-day Dare County, North Carolina.  Chartered by Queen Elizabeth I and expedited by Sir Walter Raleigh, the first set of seafarers met the exotic native tribes – the Secotans and Croatans – inhabiting the area, taking two Croatans back to England in order to better establish knowledge of and relations with the area.  The first settlement was anything but fruitful.  Colonists were unaware of their surroundings, oblivious to the necessary agricultural techniques that flourished in such a milieu, and even managed to pick a fight (resulting in the burning of a nearby indigenous village) with the local natives over a supposed stolen silver cup.  The colony was perpetually in need of supplies, still Raleigh financed yet another expedition in 1587, this time led by one John White, to bolster the already dwindling English population with another 150 colonists.  White, newly appointed governor of Virginia, was asked by his fellow colonists to return to England in order to explain the dire situation regarding tensions with natives and lack of supplies.  White left in late 1587 promising to return the next year, but because of setbacks caused by the demoralizing Anglo-Spanish War, White was unable to return until August of 1590 – an interminable three years later.  After landing White and his crew found the colony deserted, only coming across the inscription of the word Croatan carved into the side of the garrison.  Many theories abound as to the disappearance of the 115 colonists that remained when White originally left, ranging from slaughter by natives to starvation to drowning at sea.  It has been aptly deemed the “Lost Colony” ever since.

Fact:  This is an instance when history enters the dangerous realm of speculation – that is to say for most incompetent historians.  Recently discovered documents from Southern England, most likely an early form of newspaper, notes the return of six survivors from the ship Oceana (a DC-747 tall ship) in 1593.  The Oceana was still under the command of one John White.  Not much was written regarding the miraculous return of the six from the Lost Colony for one particular reason: the John White who helmed the original voyage in 1587 had passed away in 1891 (it must be emphasized that 80% of the English population in 1593 was named John White).  From 1400 to 1910, the John White Phenomenon generated massive confusion amid England’s historical events.  Simply put, no one seemed to care because thousands of others flocking to England had a connection with one John White or another.  But here’s where the pieces come together: there were two notable persons among the six survivors – a Dr. Matthew Foxxe (there were only two doctors present in England in 1893, as one had to not kill a patient in order to be considered a doctor) and a Mr. Hurley Sideburn (the famed 1584 winner of the Win a Lifetime Supply of Haggis Sweepstakes).  When researching the historical record all seems good and well until I came to the year 1895, as both of the survivors seemed to vanish into thin air, once again.  No death notices were present; no more haggis was being delivered to Mr. Sideburn’s countryside chateau; and surgical patients’ mortality rate was back to 100%.  Since the Roanoke colony was still a sore subject for those privy to the prior expeditions, not much of a fuss was made over Mr. Sideburn and Dr. Foxxe’s return trip to the island.  That’s right, a one-way boarding pass still exists with the names of our two phantoms regarding a trip aboard the Oceana to Roanoke Island (this time under the command of John White’s grandson, John White).  Why return to the place that almost took your life, the island that took the lives of 144 of your fellow countrymen?  This is where my authority as a historian runs dry and I dare not enter the perilous world of speculation.  But it must be stated that upon leaving Dr. Foxxe left behind a diary, which reported the following: “I am unclear as to my motives, but I do believe it is in the best interest of all.  Even if the great Croatan Smoke Monster rears its ugly head once more, or if the chief who doth not age and wears too much mascara attempts to kill our kind, we shall persevere.”

*I have only seen two episodes of this supposed great show entitled "Lost," but someone at ABC must have his/her PhD in Colonial American Studies.  I am not a fan.

The Tribe Vs. The Titanic

Myth:  Its history and lore have been imagined and re-imagined – even inspiring one of the highest grossing movies of all time.  It is a stark reminder that all things are not impervious; that we all have weaknesses.  The RMS Titanic, the largest passenger steamship at the time, sunk in the early morning hours on April 15, 1912, after striking an iceberg four days into its voyage.  Owned by the esteemed White Star Line company, the Titanic was said to be unsinkable; a behemoth of a boat that set sail on her maiden voyage from Southampton, England, churning its way to her final destination of New York City.  Fate intervened, and of the original 2,223 passengers on board, 1,517 people (mostly men) perished in the icy waters of the North Atlantic.  It is one of the deadliest peacetime shipwrecks in the annals of history, and its name continues to be synonymous with disaster.

Fact:  The sinking of the Titanic was not accidental, rather it was a premeditated act of revenge – best served cold, icy cold.  First, one must accept the historical fact that the Titanic was not a pleasure ship as most assume.  There was no intermingling of classes, races and creeds on the famed ship.  Contrarily, the Titanic housed more than 2,000 souls of pure Aryan descent.  Secondly, one needs to look no further than the name of the Titanic’s mother company: White Star Line.  White Star Line – a none too subtle appellation – had stricken fear in all sailors, pleasure boaters, and even pirates, not of the glorious white race since its inception in 1876.  White Star Line had built the maritime arm of the ever-present white supremacist movement.  Finally, students of history may see a trend in the Line’s attacks on unsuspecting victims when analyzed closely.  The majority of seaborne attacks were obviously directed at the Lox fisherman, most of whom operated in the Jewish waters of the North Sea (where a mensch could pull out pure smoked lox by the dozens with his bare hands).  Another primary target were the Catholics, generally fishing for live communion hosts around the Tierra del Fuego – an arduous task as each host had to be shucked from the infamous thorny-crowned mussel.  This last group, forgotten as an enemy of the steamship company time and time again, was the mastermind behind the ingenious, and heroic, attack on the “Great White Shark.”  They were the humble people of Northern Canada – the Inuits (or Eskimos if you’re racist).  Oh, and did the white supremacist movement of the early 20^th century hate them ever so!  Hanz Alabaster of Whitecream, Prussia wrote a fiery rant regarding the Inuit people just prior to his boarding the Titanic: “I have slain the people of Israel, chewed the head off of the Popery, but by God, I have yet to harpoon myself a butterfly-kissing Eskimo.  It is an abomination that they make a profit from desecrating pure vanilla ice cream by dousing it in chocolate.  A despicable interracial marriage for the mere purpose of creating the bastard Klondike Bar.”  In the early morning hours on April 15, 1912, an Inuit fleet of some 2,000 kayaks waited anxiously, quietly as the hate-filled Titanic chugged forward.  Moments later, a barrage of Klondike Bars and seals (the Inuit were adept at hurling live seals) peppered the right side of the Titanic.  The combination of vanilla ice cream, milk chocolate, and seals slung at starboard created a gaping hole in the exposed side of the ocean liner.  The Titanic sank within minutes, as white bigots drowned in a brackish chocolate mixture.  What would you do for a Klondike Bar?  The Inuits would kill some proto-Nazis.

Cross-Dressing in the Name of Country

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The Communist Manifesto: Corrected Edition

Myth:  Karl Marx, born to an upper middle-class family in what is now present-day Germany, was, and continues to be, one of the most influential sociologists in modern history.  Living during the 19^th century, Marx experienced the effects of dramatic industrial expansion, the rise of a wealthy merchant class and the subjugation of an entire working-class populace.  In his most famous work, The Communist Manifesto, Marx highlights the fact that all societies are struggles between classes.  In it, he is a strong opponent of the ruling upper echelons of society, believing them to be a collective, selfish bourgeoisie that benefited from the unfair practices of capitalism.  Under his theory of socialism, or later known as Marxism, the working-class – or proletariat – would rebel and revolt, turning the current paradigm on its head.  The dictatorship of the working classes would soon give rise to a stateless, communistic entity, in which the people would work for the whole of society and share the benefits of their toils.  Marxism today has found its way into many societal facets, ranging from healthcare to pure political thought, and spanning the globe from Cuba to Europe.

Fact:  Karl Marx was indeed born into a wealthy family, and he attended both the prestigious University of Boon and esteemed University of Berlin.  Ironically, Marx suffered a nervous breakdown during a senior year course on the philosophy of political economies.  The onset of schizophrenia was quick and crippling.  However, as this was the last course of the year and graduation was imminent, it went unnoticed by his friends and family, simply believing he was thrilled to be done with his studies.  A tragically comedic passage from a friend’s diary underscores Marx’s detachment from society:  “Ol’ Marxy ran through the crowd and received his diploma wearing just a handkerchief around his left ankle, slapped the Chancellor with his penis and then ran through the streets.  Oh what a joyous prank!  So like him.”  In reality, Marx was manic.  Shortly after graduation, Marx told his parents he was working in Paris as a philosopher, though in reality he was living under the Eiffel Tower with all his belongings contained in a Nutella jar.  He was homeless.  And he looked the part – beard unkempt and shocks of hair flying in all directions.  But, he did write.  The writings, however, were accounts of his daily life of begging and conspiracy theories that he mulled over night after night.  The title itself of The Communist Manifesto points to Marx’s insanity.  Since his spelling had suffered since the breakdown, Marx had meant to title the piece The Come You Nist, Manifest You, “Nist” of course the German word for she-devil.  He was perpetually afraid of a she-devil that was apparently hunting him around the city of Paris, and in defense, Marx often wore a tinfoil cap to keep his thoughts from this she-devil.  The large, new factories sprouting up all over the European landscape frightened poor Marx, which is why he aimed most of his animosity toward capitalism and the rise of what he called, “Towers of Fire.”  The “Nist” often breathed fire onto her enemies in old German lore.  What scholars describe as the lower classes, or proletariat, was actually a massive miscommunication on Marx’s part.  Again, Marx meant to say “Bro, litter,” roughly translating to “Bro, any garbage you could give me because I’m hungry.”  But, philosophers still believed him to be a genius; a genius in the guise of a tin hat-wearing, conspiracy theorist.  So, all of you Marxists out there, you’re actually following the writings of a man constantly on the run from a she-devil and her towers of fire, living under the Eiffel Tower to deter any mind-reading by the infamous Nist, and asking Bros for litter and hot dogs.