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Stonewall Fartson

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This is my third attempt to add this entry as Microshaft Defective Exploder 7 keeps crashing like a drunk driver with tunnel vision.

I shall try this ONE LAST TIME. Hope you get to read it!

Today’s anniversary is from 1863 and the Battle of Chancellorville which was, by now, in its third day. By this time, the confederate troops under the magnificent General Thomas ‘Stonewall’ Jackson had pretty much carried the field. He and a number of officers rode out to scout the ground and, upon their return were gunned down by their own pickets who mistook them in the half-light for enemy cavalry.

And so, on this day, ‘Stonewall’ Jackson, soon to be ‘Bulletholes’ Jackson received 2 shots to the arm and 1 to the hand. He was roughly handled back to the field hospital where he lost his arm. 8 Days later he died of pneumonia contracted as a complication of his wounding.

This was a pretty major setback for the Confederacy, and a pretty major coup for the Union, but for my part I think the biggest setback was probably for Thomas ‘Stonewall’ Jackson.

Can you imagine the headline?

“Stonewall killed by Pickets!”

Actually, though he was buried in a place in Lexington that would later be named after him, his arm was taken separately and buried not far from the field hospital on plantation land.

I can’t help but wonder whether ‘Good Ole Boys’ waving the battle flag and whistling Dixie go and visit the burial place of the arm.

I have to admit to having something of a soft spot for the Confederacy myself. I don’t condone slavery, but most of the common men (and I think many of the gentry and officers) of the South weren’t fighting on account of the slaves anyway, but for their right to remain independent as States with control over their own destiny. And since that’s pretty much what I want for Yorkshire, I can hardly argue with that.

Lastly in respect of the great Jackson, I knew a little about him, in respect that he’s considered one of the greatest military minds and tactical geniuses in US history and the mainstay of the South during the Civil War. Here are some things I didn’t know about him, courtesy of Wikipedia:

“Jackson was not a striking figure, particularly since he was not a good horseman” – Read: Jackson damn near fell off horses from time to time.

“Jackson often wore old, worn-out clothes rather than a fancy uniform” – Read: Jackson looked like a hobo like many of the confederate troops.

“Jackson also suffered a significant hearing loss in both of his ears as a result of his prior service in the U.S. Army as an artillery officer” – Read: Jackson was shot by his own pickets because he could not hear them say ‘who goes there’ and couldn’t hear his aide say ‘Duck!’

“He held a lifelong belief that one of his arms was longer than the other, and thus usually held the ‘longer’ arm up to equalize his circulation.”!!!!!

“He was described as a ‘champion sleeper’, even falling asleep with food in his mouth occasionally”

“He also became noted throughout the Confederate Army for leading his troops in complete circles.”

Now tell me this is not reducing the reputation of the great commander at all?

Ah well… all hail Johnny Reb!

* * * * *

On to more personal matters very briefly. WARNING: FART HUMOUR AHEAD – LOOK AWAY IF BOTTOM GASES OFFEND YOU!

I have had a bout this morning of what could only be described as a miasma. Now, I sit in the corner of the room, but behind me are shelves full of filing that the girls in the office need to be at fairly often. So after the first “pffffft” and an eye-watering 2 minutes I realised that I couldn’t subject anyone else to this. In fact, such a horror has not been seen outside a battlefield for centuries. I actually had to wipe my eyes.

So… when I felt the build-up of noxious gases swirling and churning in my stomach like the chaos at the centre of the universe, I totted up how many jobs needed doing on our servers, wrote a list and disappeared into the server room for a while.

Almost as soon as I’d shut the door, my rectum made a noise like a sick moose singing Barry White for a good five minutes. The server room is very small, but air-conditioned, and as I felt my distended waistline shrinking alongside the long, drawn-out wail of a deflating barrage balloon, I watched the air-conditioning kicking up a notch to account for the rise in temperature. So how’s that. One rather long fart raised the room temperature enough for the air-con to break a sweat.

And of course I still had all my jobs to do on the servers. So I stood for a while, occasionally wiping my eyes, in the miasma as it gradually cleared and the green tint faded from the air.

I’ve felt better ever since, but I made sure I found a desk fan and pointed it at myself just in case.

Now it’s almost past lunchtime and I feel a fart coming on…

See y’all



Written by SJAT

January 7, 2011 at 4:31 pm

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