I haven’t been interested in anyone since you, haven’t wanted to kiss someone, touch someone, get to know them. Well until now. Isn’t it kinda funny how history tends to repeat itself? And yet here I am not laughing. He kinda reminds me of you, but more interested in what I have to say. He’s smart and nice and funny and not at all attracted to me. Which is ok. Crushes are so silly, until they aren’t. It makes me miss you though, I miss your hugs, and how you’d take 20 minutes to pick a song even though we were driving five minutes down the street. I miss kisses that tasted like your favorite ice cream. Coffee breath and sleepy eyes. I miss your emotional distance which is odd because I hated it. Even the things I wanted so desperately to go away about you, I miss. I guess that means you really fucked me up.
So apparently at one point during the American Revolution Alexander Hamilton, Lee and a bunch of troops were all across the Hudson River from the rest of the army, and Hamilton and a few other men were destroying bags of flour so the British wouldn’t get to them (since the British were supposed to arrive soon) and anyway the troops saw the British coming and began to retreat by marching off, but Hamilton and the other few men were left by the shore of the river with a heck of a lot of redcoats approaching. Luckily they had a boat and fled back across the river (under British gunfire), but one man died, another was wounded, and they all bailed and began to swim but made it out ok. However, Lee assumed Hamilton was dead and reported thus to Washington and his aides, and they were apparently all mourning him and drinking to his memory when he appeared in the doorway, dripping wet.
So back in the 1780′s when our country was still figuring crap out and ol’ George Washington was just elected president, G.W. decided to send a letter to Congress along the lines of ‘Looking forward to working with you all, this will be exciting!” Congress, not wanting to slight the president and also trying to express their own enthusiasm, sent back a letter along the lines of “Glad you’re excited, we are also looking forward to working with you!”
Then George sends another letter back saying something like “Cool cool bros, glad you’re just as excited as I am,” and Congress, again not wanting to be awkward or just ignore the PRESIDENT, sent back ANOTHER letter saying some dumb crap that was probably along the lines of “Glad you’re excited that we’re excited that you’re excited.”
Democracy at its finest.
And while this in itself is funny, that is not even the best part.
George Washington, while being powerful, was not extremely eloquent, and at this point was also aging, busy, and overall very stressed about his new position (which he did not want in the first place). So he asked his old friend James Madison, who had a much better way with words, to write the first note to Congress. Good old James Madison, wanting to oblige his friend, did just that and composed the note to Congress. Now, J-Mads was himself a member of Congress, so when the note arrived, he was in session to hear “Washington’s” letter read.
Congress got nervous and worried about who could possibly compose a formal and acceptable letter back to Washington. Who better than his old friend, James Madison? So Jimmy, being obliging, wrote the response. When Washington received the reply, he once again asked his friend to write the response.
And who did Congress choose to write their final letter? That’s right….none other than Jimmy-James-Madison himself.
So James Madison, future 4th president of the United States, wrote himself 4 letters under the guise of George Washington and the first Congress of the U.S. And he was too embarrassed to admit it.
We speak of a manly man, but not of a whaley whale. If you wanted to dissuade a man from drinking his tenth whisky, you would slap him on the back and say, ‘Be a man.’ No one who wished to dissuade a crocodile from eating his tenth explorer would slap it on the back and say, ‘Be a crocodile.‘
G.K. Chesterton, The Religious Doubts of Democracy, 1903