Silly Sunday: Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter

I flipped through HBO's movies on demand and found a twelve minute preview of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter that happened to be 11½ minutes too long. I mean really. Honest Abe doing fancy kickboxing while slicing blood suckers with his hatchet? What will they come up with next? 

*George Washington wrestling the Abominable snowman in the Florida Keys? 

*John Adams wearing a hula skirt and singing Bali Hai? 

*Maybe they can dye Thomas Jefferson's hair black to turn him Goth! 

Is there not any respect for our past presidents?

The writer obviously knew little about Lincoln because a true movie about him would surely be a comedy. I kid you not. Lincoln was funny! Here's my favorite anecdote about him. 

A visitor once asked Lincoln how many men the rebels had in the field. Lincoln replied seriously, “Twelve hundred thousand, according to the best authority.” 

The visitor turned pale and gasped, “Good Heavens!”

Lincoln continued: “Yes, sir; twelve hundred thousand. You see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy outnumbers them three to one, and I must believe them. We have four hundred thousand men in the field, and three times four makes twelve. Twelve hundred thousand; no doubt about it.”

If you want to read more, click back to my post Lincoln Was Funny!

I confess! This little clip gave me better entertainment than the twelve minutes preview of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter. Enjoy!

GBE2: History–Lincoln was Funny

This week's topic–history–is one of my faves; but at the same time, it was hard to narrow my post to one event. In searching historical events online, I remembered Abraham Lincoln who was not only a great leader, but also one of the funniest presidents we've ever elected.

Here are some fun anecdotes about him:

*Once as a young lawyer, several attorneys wrestled outside the court house before a trial. One of the men split his pants causing the others to pass a note asking for money to buy him a new pair of trousers. When the note reached Lincoln, he wrote, "I have nothing to contribute to the end in view."

*A ranking man in the post office, who was a personal friend of Lincoln's, died. A job applicant immediately asked the president if he could take his place?”

“Well,” replied Lincoln. “It’s all right with me if it’s all right with the undertaker.” 

*During the Civil War, Edmund Stanton, the Secretary of War, told Lincoln that General Grant was boozing in his tent.

“Find out what kind of whiskey he is drinking.”

“Why is that, Mr. President?”

“Because I want to send a case of it to my other generals.”

 And finally, here is my favorite story!

*A visitor once asked Lincoln how many men the rebels had in the field. Lincoln replied seriously, “Twelve hundred thousand, according to the best authority.” 

The visitor turned pale and gasped, “Good Heavens!”

Lincoln continued: “Yes, sir; twelve hundred thousand. You see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy outnumbers them three to one, and I must believe them. We have four hundred thousand men in the field, and three times four makes twelve. Twelve hundred thousand; no doubt about it.”

The last thing he remembered was...

Here's my response to Courtney Miller-Callihan's prompt over at Agent Courtney. The winner receives a query critique and who knows, maybe representation, so why not?

Clara Barton

The last thing he remembered was...

Captain Amos Card's teeth bore pressure on a wooden stick when a blue-eyed nurse forced a saturated rag into his open abdomen. His pulse hammered his ears as sweat soaked through his brow, back, and the torso that fought pressure and pain strong enough to rip him in two. Damm Confederates! My body is no more together than our blessed country due to their treasonous ways.

 

Not two-hundred yards away, canons boomed as the smell of death penetrated the Union camp site. Card watched trees rotate in a circular arc then jerk back to their original position only to resume dizzying circles. Gray spots blocked his blurry vision and once again he chomped on the sap sweetened stick.

 

"You're going to be peachy." The nurse kept her composure better than any he'd encountered from the Mexican War. As an elder soldier, he'd seen many army hospitals decked with sharpened tools and frantic medics tearing into the lost limbs of soldiers. With black braids secured behind her head, this nurse gave him a kindly expression as she replaced his chewed stick with a cup of strong whiskey.

 

Something unique surrounded this angel of the battlefield and shouted fame. He envisioned her saving multiple live, becoming a powerful suffragist, and even presiding over The American Red Cross. Through these hands, I shalt not die. Not here, nor from the gun of a rat-brained Confederate.

"Miss Barton," a younger doctor addressed Card's nurse, "That soldier's not going to make it. Come, accompany us over yonder." He pointed. "A young private needs a splint."

 

"No. This man's going to live, and I'll make sure of it. Get Mr. Jones to help you, I'm busy."

"There, there, captain. We'll get you sewed up. Do you have any young soldiers back home?" She cradled his head while trying to distract him from the pain of Labarraque's solution dripping over his exposed torso. His back lunged as his body arched upward and wood chipped off the teeth-riddled stick holding in his bitter shrieks. Thought's of Clara Barton fulfilled his last memories and brought him home.

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