Archive for the ‘Slandering the Fathers’ Category

And NOW Several Small Animals Besmirches the Name of a Founding Father in — Thomas Jefferson: Psycho Killer, Rapist.

February 19, 2010

Terror of Monticello

Born to a prominent Virginia family in April of 1743, Thomas Jefferson was raised with every advantage available to a young man in colonial America. It is difficult to say, then, exactly where things began to go wrong.

From a late memoir we learn that the death of Jefferson’s father had a profound effect on his early life. Only fourteen at the time of his father’s death, Jefferson began to slip into a dark world of fantasy. The following statements come from a report by Jefferson’s counselor at William and Mary, made when Jefferson was just 16 years old:

Jefferson: “My mother told me when she worked on death row and they took that dude into hanging and his head popped off and went down them 13 stairs and rolled over by her, it scared the shit out of her. (chuckles) you know, and I said ‘wow, that sure is a far out trip moms.’”   

Counselor: “Come off it Thomas, your mother never worked at a–.”

Jefferson: “The head popped off, yeah. She was living in the Blue Moon Café and she hit a dude in the head with one of them bottles of uh, Jim Beam Whiskey. She tried to hustle a few dollars on the corner, but there wasn’t no money…”

Counselor: “WHOA! There is no way that’s true Thomas. You shouldn’t s–”

Jefferson: “Are you so white and pure? (pauses)  So, when she jammed this whiskey bottle upside that clown’s head, he went down and she took his bread. ”

During college Jefferson became a member of a secret society known as the F.H.C. Society. Though little is known about his position within this organization, it has been proposed that it was during this time that Jefferson gained his taste for control and dominance. When asked by a reporter about his time within the secret society then President Jefferson had this to say:

“I used to have to lay down and get my ass whipped till I couldn’t walk. No one fault, make strong, good pain, understand pain. Not bad. Pain’s not bad, it’s good. It teaches you things. It teaches you things. Like when you put your hand in the fire, OW! You know not to do that again. Yeah I understand that.”

Perhaps nothing sums up the strange and troubled existence of Thomas Jefferson better than this exchange as recorded in My Remarkable Journey by Larry King:

“We were out on the porch one day in late March when Thomas looks at me and says,

‘You know what I like Lar?’ He always called me Lar.

‘No,’ I said, ‘what do you like Tom?’

‘Killin’,’ he said, ‘killin’ and a-rapin’.’”   


NOW: Several Small Animals Besmirches the Name of a Founding Father in — “Alexander Hamilton: Sex Addict, Baby Killer”

January 25, 2010

Alexander Hamilton was born in the sleepy island community of St Croix on January 11, 1757.  From the time he was a young boy Hamilton, or “Ham Killa Killa” as he became known in his teenage years, showed a keen predilection for learning and discipline. It is unclear but has been suggested by a few scholars that this discipline fetish may have led to the accumulation of a number of ball gags, whips, vice grips and leather evening-wear rumored to have been found in a trunk by a bed in his summer home near Virginia Beach.

As an adult during the war for independence, Hamilton took on responsibilities under President George Washington, becoming the equivalent of his chief of staff. It is during this period that Hamilton first began to experiment with marijuana.  This, of course, led to his infamous use of harder drugs. In a late memoir written only weeks before his death Hamilton writes:

“I thought, All right, if I can’t stop, I’m going to take this thing as far as I can. I wasn’t going to dabble and mope about. Let’s get on a horse and drive this fucking circus completely out of town

I decided to turn up the volume. Let’s stop sleeping, let’s stop eating and just fucking party. I was smoking about a pound and a half of cocaine a month toward the end. That’s a lot. It was hard-core—cleaner than crack because you cook it yourself—but so what?”

It was during his stint as this nation’s first Secretary of the Treasury that the drug abuse and sexual addictions started to take a seriously dark turn. As Hamilton writes in the Federalist Papers:

“I was doing a lot of amyl at the time, and that tends to get the sex thing going. Amyl and Heineken: the Amsterdam combination. Jesus, what a nightmare. You can stay hard, but you’re shooting blanks after a while. Then it becomes about approaching the number. We said 10 each and you’re on eight, and you’re going, I need some fucking pasta or steak or something. Fuck it: Heineken, amyl—that’s my dinner. Then you get to nine. We didn’t want to leave there saying, ‘We got 17 but we aimed for 20.’ It was ridiculous.”

It was during one of these wild trips to Amsterdam with Vice President Aaron Burr that Hamilton’s untamed impulses turned murderous.  Noted Hamilton scholar Dean Webster Collins wrote in his revealing 1974 book, Axe to Grind: Alexander ‘Killa Killa’ Hamilton and the Demons That Destroyed Him:

Upon seeing Burr’s young daughter’s face, Hamilton was filled with an irrational but uncontrollable rage. He grasped the young child’s throat and before anything could be done the child fell lifeless upon the floor. Hamilton stared blankly upon the body before him and then, suddenly, as if breaking from a daze famously asked, ‘Dear lord, what have I done?’” 

This act led to the well known duel that ended Hamilton’s troubled life. It has been stated many times that had Hamilton’s nerves been in better shape he may have fared better in the deadly contest. The drugs, it is said, had ruined the once great man’s coordination, rendering him an easy target for the sober and straight-laced Burr.

Perhaps the most tragic element to this story, though, was that at the time of the duel Hamilton had been preparing for what many of his inner circle claimed would be the greatest comeback tour in the history of the pop world. It is unfortunate not only that he was robbed of this opportunity but that we, as a people, have been robbed of the gift these performances would have bestowed upon our young nation. Rest in Peace Killa.