Given the volatile nature of politics today, I should know better than to enter the fray.  However, I am going to stand into the wind as I spit into it, using these current climes to make my position clear.  I don’t care if you’re left-wing, right-wing, or you just flip everyone the whole bird, here are ten reasons why I would not get along with Abraham Lincoln. 

  • His Height.  Keeping eye contact with Abe would result in me getting a colossal neck crick.  Besides, if the rumors I started are true, the statue at the Lincoln Memorial was Abe’s actual size.  Think about it: what other reason could there be for Lincoln needing his own special box at Ford’s Theater?  I mean, Lincoln didn’t have a prayer in finding acceptable orchestra seating. 
This picture shows that Lincoln was easily at least 30′ tall
since Clint is 67′ tall even without the ice cream.
  • The Penny.  A complete waste of zinc and copper that exists for an antiquated reason.  Unless you are cupping a roll in your hand to aid in sucker punching someone, pennies serve no real purpose.  But as we’re suffocated by nostalgia yet again, the penny continues.  This means that the death march of saddened trick-or-treating penny recipients will continue unabated, and the Richard Pryor scams of Superman III can proceed unchecked.
  • Once I found out that that Lincoln didn’t really have a secretary named Kennedy, how many of his other “parallels” with JFK were total shams too?  Even the “Lincoln and Kennedy both lived in the White House, but never met each other” gem is completely up for grabs now.  I trust no one   
Sheesh, Lincoln even took a show to Broadway?!
What an ego on this ham!
  • So Abe, exactly how much did you make when Ford Motor Company paid you for the naming rights for the Lincoln brand of automobiles?  Oh, Mr. Lincoln, you shameless sellout.  The sad thing is that the car doesn’t even look like you.  Speaking of which, I hope you choke on those likeness rights royalty checks you’ve been greedily accumulating from Mt. Rushmore too!
Of all the people that should have a red shirt on…
  • Lincoln Logs.  I’m to believe that children simply adore playing with creosote-covered wood chunks?  Ever accidentally step on a Lincoln Log?  Walking in bare feet on Lego pieces glued to broken glass in a tub of lemon juice would be a joy in comparison.  Plus, the kits never gave you any pitch or buffalo poop to cover up the holes and gaps in the cabin lumber.  Do you have any idea how many pretend frontier families died of pretend pneumonia because of this damn “toy”?
Speaking of flagrant Lincoln toys… The shame is that it is isn’t even
historically accurate; Lincoln’s synthesizer was blue, not yellow.
  • Every single bloody time Ken Burns’ The Civil War outed Lincoln for making a bad choice to head the Army of the Potomac, I would get on a ladder to swat that stovepipe hat right off his head.  No wonder Robert E. Lee was able to run amuck for so long.  I mean, c’mon!  George McClellan? Ambrose Burnside??  Joseph Hooker?!  Really?!?  I wouldn’t trust these guys to command a bowling team let alone the entire Union army. 
Part of Abe’s demands to Lego included him having a rocket chair. Just sickening.
  • Lincoln’s homespun, cracker barrel witticisms would get awfully tiresome after a while.  “You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather was.”  Well, my grandad was shorter than me, so what now, Railsplitter?  It would be like if Andy Griffith were elected to high office. Sure, I love Andy, but after a while, I’d change the channel over to watch Vice President Don Knotts instead.  You know, for balance.
Seems like Batman’s about to divide Lincoln’s house so he cannot stand!
(Look, all the jokes can’t be good. You’ve got to expect that once in a while.)
  • With my penchant for eye-rolling, heavy sighs, and incessant journeys to the restroom, Abe certainly would’ve tired of me as a theater companion.  Additionally, I’d hate to spend the rest of my days either wondering if I could have stopped Booth in the act or not.  At the time, chances are I would’ve been too distracted trying to decipher what the hell “sockdologizing old man trap” even meant, so that answers that.
This might be the most historically accurate depiction of Lincoln in media.
  • By the way, because I brought up the special seating thing earlier, you’d think that since Lincoln was such a huge Cub fan, he would have demanded that the rows be a smidge wider at Wrigley Field.  I mean, I know he was selfish enough to get his own form-fitting box seat everywhere else, but how about some executive actions for those who are more than 3’ 7” tall who would like to take in a game without having to choose which leg they like more so they can approximately wedge into the seats?  (I mean, only the die-hardest Cub fan is going to follow Ron Santo’s example just to sit the upper deck. What? Too soon?) Nowadays most spectators at the Friendly Confines hope to be hired as third base coaches because at least there’s more leg room on the field.
  • For someone that was supposedly all about freedom from oppression, Abe did absolutely nothing to prevent the smothering tollway system in Illinois.  Voluminous piles of dollars get emancipated out of my pocket each time I must travel on their barely paved highway system consisting of corduroy roads that are pockmarked with potholed crevasses.  Land of Lincoln, my arse.

Sorry if I took a bit of the sheen off Mr. Abraham Lincoln for you, dear reader.  I’m certain that he was a figure one could look up to.  Mainly because he was 6’ 4”! What’s the weather like up there, beanpole?  Hah!  Take that, Lincoln! 

Okay, I might have to blame someone other than Lincoln for this one.
But I haven’t ruled him completely out.

Published by benjaminawink

Being at best a lackadaisical procrastinator, this is purely an exercise in maintaining a writing habit for yours truly. This will obviously lead to the lucrative and inevitable book/movie/infomercial deal. I promise to never engage in hyperbole about my blog, which will be the greatest blog mankind has ever known since blogs started back in 1543. I won't promise anything other than a few laughs, a few tears, and maybe, just maybe, a few lessons about how to make smokehouse barbecue in your backyard.

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