George Washington Is Cash Money

by O'Brien, Cory

  and also he was probably already crazy

  so he keeps stealing shit from the natives

  and almost throwing axes at them

  and being like “Hey, gang

  let’s split up!

  We’ll cover more ground that way.”

  But in spite of Lewis’s bullshit

  all but one person makes it back home

  and that one dude only doesn’t make it

  ’cause he decided to keep hanging out in the woods

  so that barely even counts

  and Thomas Jefferson is like “Nice work.

  Time to fill this land with white people!”

  and Lewis is like “Okay, cool

  glad you’re satisfied

  gonna go kill myself if that’s okay.”

  and it’s not okay at all, but it’s too late, he’s dead

  and then Clark raises Sacagawea’s kid for her

  who grows up to be a badass mountain guide

  and lives to be like eighty

  and then dies on the way to get gold in Colorado

  and by that time pretty much everyone else is dead

  because that’s how history works.

  So basically

  what I’m trying to say

  is that your cross-country road trip game is weak.

  PAUL BUNYAN IS GODZILLA BUT WITH THUMBS

  So now we’ve got all this land

  but it’s full of all these obnoxious trees.

  Somebody’s gotta do something about these trees.

  NO PROBLEM, WE GOT LUMBERJACKS.

  These are dudes

  whose job is to MURDER ENTIRE FORESTS

  IN STYLE

  and one of the most prolific/preposterous tree-killers

  is Paul “Biggie” Bunyan.

  Now, I assume you’ve all heard of Paul Bunyan

  you know

  the single highest concentration of masculinity

  ever to exist in one place at one time?

  Oh yes

  I’m talking about the dude who was SO BIG

  that it took four storks to deliver him to his parents

  SO BIG

  that every time he cried

  a swarm of frogs freaked out and fled the local pond

  SO BIG

  that when he outgrew his crib

  his parents put him on a raft off the coast of Maine

  because how do you feed a baby that big?

  There are many stories about Paul

  but since most of them are less stories

  and more ridiculous short-form lies

  how about instead of trying to reproduce one

  I just walk you through a typical year in Paul’s camp:

  So you show up to this camp

  and it’s huge

  like, gargantuan

  like, way bigger than it needs to be.

  They’ve used as much wood to make this camp

  as they plan to cut down this whole goddamn year

  and sitting in the middle of all this is Paul Bunyan

  who is constantly smoking

  (he smokes Peerless brand pipe tobacco, btw

  because if there’s one thing he’s good at

  it’s being co-opted by advertisers)

  and he blows all his smoke toward the West Coast

  conveniently giving L.A. an excuse for all that smog.

  It’s hella wasteful

  welcome to America.

  As a logger in this camp, you are one of thousands

  and all several thousand of you are lumberjacks

  so of course you all need flapjacks

  which means this camp is equipped with a griddle

  SEVERAL MILES IN DIAMETER

  which must be greased daily

  by several dudes

  with hog-skins strapped to their feet

  SKATING ACROSS IT FROM END TO END.

  I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP.

  (SOMEONE ELSE MADE THIS UP.)

  So once you’ve eaten your ridiculous breakfast

  you head over to the woods to do some logging

  but it’s wintertime, and this is the worst winter ever

  (every winter is the worst one ever in these stories).

  The snow is deeper than the trees

  also it’s blue for some reason

  also the ground is littered with FROZEN SNAKES

  which you are expected to tie together

  and use as sleds for the logs you cut down

  which, may I remind you

  ARE BURIED UNDER MILES OF BLUE SNOW.

  But you do it anyway

  because you’re a tough-as-nails lumberjack

  and also shit-scared of your enormous boss

  and you get back to camp in the evening

  to enjoy a hard-earned dinner

  which is composed of pea soup

  dispensed from an entire lake

  which the cook made into pea soup

  after accidentally dumping all the peas in there

  plus you drink some Irish whiskey

  made from potato skins

  fermented by the withering gaze of Sour Pete

  (who you are not looking forward to bunking with).

  Then you go to sleep inside a hollow loaf of bread

  along with all the other loggers

  because that’s how big the bread is here.

  Everything is too big

  it’s like Texas, but also ridiculously cold.

  It’s only been one day, and you are already tired of it.

  So through a combination of pancakes and fury

  you make it through the winter of the blue snow

  chop down an entire country’s worth of trees

  load them onto frozen snakes

  and get them into the river

  and you’re riding the logs down the river

  (this is an actual thing lumberjacks did)

  when your logs get all out of whack

  and run into each other, and get jammed

  (this is the actual origin of the term “logjam”).

  So you’re upset, obviously

  but you’re also looking forward to the time off

  which is when Paul Bunyan shows up

  with his giant ox

  which is still pissed because the snow dyed it blue

  and he puts the ox in the water

  and just starts shooting it

  over and over again

  with a rifle.

  And you’re like “Dude what are you doing?”

  and he’s like “NO IT’S FINE

  SHE JUST THINKS IT’S FLIES”

  and sure enough, the ox starts swishing her tail

  to get rid of the flies

  and it makes the whole river flow backwards

  unjamming your logs

  and sending you on your way.

  A few days later, you’ve finished your logging run

  you’re lounging with your bros at the camp

  waiting for the season’s pay

  when Paul Bunyan comes thundering in

  like “GUYS, GUYS

  YOU KNOW THOSE TREES WE CUT DOWN?

  THOSE WERE GOVERNMENT TREES

  WE GOTTA GO, WE GOTTA GO NOW!”

  So you freak out, obviously

  (you are not going back to jail)

  and you grab whatever’s nearby

  and book it for the nearest town.

  Here’s the thing though:

  Paul Bunyan was lying to you

  he just didn’t have enough money to pay you guys.

>   Also, he’s French-Canadian.

  I don’t know how you feel about that

  but there it is.

  The moral here is pretty obvious:

  Folk heroes make terrible bosses.

  THE BOOK OF MORMON: GREAT MUSICAL, BAD BOOK

  Okay, so it’s 600 BC

  there’s some Jews hanging out in Jerusalem

  ’cause where else are they gonna hang out, right?

  Oh, wait

  how about AMERICA?

  Yeah see, this prophet Lehi has a vision

  where God is like “DUDES

  I MADE THIS GREAT PLACE

  IT’S CALLED AMERICA

  IT’S JUST SITTING OVER THERE

  BETWEEN THE PACIFIC AND THE ATLANTIC

  WOEFULLY UN-JEWED.”

  So Lehi and his bros get onto a boat

  and sail to America

  but when they get there, they notice a problem.

  It is the same problem that Europeans will notice

  when they show up about two thousand years later.

  It is this:

  America has abundant food and water

  the deers and the antelopes are cavorting like hell

  amber waves of grain all up ins

  they’ve even got purple mountains

  where do you find those, outside a hallucination?

  AMERICA, THAT’S WHERE.

  But there is one thing that America seems to lack:

  BRUTAL WARS.

  So the colonists are like “We better get on this.”

  They split up into two rival factions:

  the Nephites and the Lamanites

  I think the Nephites are the good guys

  but I am too lazy to check.

  It seems to me like they’re all pretty sucky though

  ’cause how are you gonna try and fight a war

  after you already traveled a million miles together?

  That’s like if I wanted to punch you in the face

  and I was like “Hey, man

  let’s fly to Singapore”

  and then when we got off the plane in Singapore

  I punched you in the face.

  . . . Okay, you know what

  that would actually be hilarious.

  Anyway they fight and fight

  dudes die, it’s awesome

  but this whole time

  the Nephites have been writing this shit down

  in a book with golden pages.

  I dunno how they found the time to get all that gold

  seems like they’re pretty busy fighting

  but anyway they’re writing and fighting

  fighting and writing

  in a language that no one else

  in the history of anything

  has ever heard of

  called “reformed Egyptian”

  which

  from what I can tell

  is made up mostly of sideways boobs

  exclamation points

  and different versions of the letter “T.”

  But then all of a sudden

  JESUS APPEARS

  ’cause he just got killed in Rome

  and he is taking a vacation in America

  before coming back to life.

  He sees all these dudes fighting and he is like “WHOA

  WHOA WHOA WHOA.

  Didn’t you guys get the memo?

  No fighting!”

  and then he has to explain everything to them

  that he already explained to the other Jews

  just to get them up to date

  and I guess maybe he makes up some other stuff

  about how you should have a ton of wives

  and wear full-body underwear with holes in it

  really solid advice

  that he forgot to say the first time.

  But all good things must come to an end.

  Jesus goes to heaven

  and everybody else dies

  but not before making sure to bury their golden book

  under a hill in upstate New York

  you know, for posterity.

  CUT TO 1832

  some dude named Joe Smith is hanging out

  in his house in upstate New York

  when all of a sudden God is like “JOE

  JOE!!!

  THERE’S SOME GOLD PLATES IN THAT HILL.

  I HAVE SUDDENLY CHOSEN YOU

  TO GO DIG THEM UP.

  GOOOOOOOO JOOOOOOOOOOOOE.”

  So Joe goes over to the hill

  and this angel appears like “’Ey buddy

  I’m the angel Moroni.”

  (Moroni is one of the guys who wrote the book

  the one with the with the gold plates

  and also the last name of an Italian mob boss

  played by Carl Weintraub on Days of Our Lives.

  COINCIDENCE?)

  So Joe is pretty impressed

  but then the angel is like “Listen up, kiddo

  I gots dese plates for youse

  but you ain’t gettin’ nada

  till you spend four years coming back hereabouts

  and taking religion classes with yours truly

  CAPISCE?”

  And that is exactly what happens

  So Joseph finally digs up these golden plates

  but like I said

  they’re in “Reformed Egyptian”

  so it’s not like he can read them, right?

  WRONG.

  Clearly you have not heard of SEER STONES.

  Here is how seer stones work:

  Step 1: Take a rock

  Step 2: Put the rock in a hat

  Step 3: Put your face in the hat

  Step 4: TRANSLATION COMPLETE

  I am not exaggerating.

  For several months Joseph Smith sits in his room

  with his face inside a white stovepipe hat

  shouting words at his scribe/investor Martin Harris.

  Yes of course Joseph Smith needs investors

  not like he could just sell pages

  from that GOLDEN BOOK he found

  that would be SACRILEGE.

  So this goes on for a couple months

  with only one false start

  which only happens because Martin Harris’s wife

  (a confirmed FEMALE)

  becomes suspicious of the fact

  that no one except Joe has seen the gold book

  which he apparently doesn’t need to have with him

  in order to translate

  and which is written in a fake language

  and is made out of gold

  and says, amongst other things

  that ancient Jews built boats and sailed to America

  so she has the audacity to ask to see the translation

  and finally does

  and then STEALS it

  which makes Joe SO MAD

  that he decides not to re-translate the part she stole

  and instead write a whole other part in two months

  and then he has to get his buddy Harris

  to take out some more loans to get the book printed

  but that doesn’t go so well

  and Harris loses his house and his wife

  which is okay because his wife sucked anyway.

  ANYWAY

  people are somewhat reluctant to believe in a book

  that was written by staring into a hat full of rocks

  but a lot of people are willing to make an exception

  because it’s the true word of God/they are bored
/>   at which point the angel Moroni shows up again.

  He’s like “Hey, bub

  I see you got a nice thing going here in New York

  but, see, the trouble with New York

  is that it’s not nearly enough like ancient Jerusalem

  by which I mean way underpopulated

  and dry as a bullfrog’s cooter.

  Allow me to direct you

  TO SALT LAKE CITY.”

  Except he’s actually way more cagey than that

  and Joseph dies on the way

  without telling anybody exactly where they’re going

  and his buddy Brigham Young

  (who has a name like an evangelical pedophile)

  has to take over and lead them through the desert

  until everyone gets sick of wandering around

  and is just like “Fuck it

  this is where we live now

  let’s wear white button-down shirts

  and part our hair on the side

  and ride bicycles forever and ever.”

  AND THAT’S WHERE MORMONS COME FROM.

  So the moral of the story is

  give a man a fish

  and he’ll eat for a day

  give a man a hat full of rocks

  and he’ll move to a place where there are no fish.

  THE TRAIL OF TEARS IS NOT THE NAME OF A LINKIN PARK ALBUM

  So Indians . . .

  YUP

  THEY ARE STILL CALLED INDIANS

  and they are still

  (despite the best efforts of the colonists)

  inhabiting a significant portion of their native lands.

  This is a problem, and it must be stopped.

  Luckily, President Andrew Jackson has this on lock.

  This dude is a war hero

  which the country just LOVES

  and he is so good at war

  that he has a nickname from it:

  “Ol’ Hickory”

  meaning that he is strict I guess

  (actually it sounds like a bondage thing to me).

  Anyway, Andy slithers on into the White House

  and immediately starts plotting to prank the natives.

  He’s like “Hey, [white] guys

  remember all those promises we made to the Indians

  about how they could keep their land and whatever?

  How about

  —and I’m just spitballin’ here—

  how about fuck those promises.”

  And pretty much everybody in Congress

  most of whom stand to gain from this

  is like “Hell yeah, kick ’em out!”

  This screws over a whole lot of tribes

  but for the sake of time

  let’s focus on a prime example:

  the Cherokee Nation.