Penelope’s Loom

 He was an architect.  Well, sort of.... A Nazi rally at Nurnberg.  Real. A site in Hitler's fantasy capitol, Germania (well, Berlin, actually). Not Real. Not Real.  In many ways, those two words embody the work (and life) of Hitler's architect and buddy Albert Speer.  Here's what he looked like: Nothing scary, right? A nice, early-balding bourgeois.  But wait.  Look down. Whoops.  Who's that with our budding little builder? Ah, there's our good little Nazi, the Minister of Armaments. So you might be asking yourself, Dear Reader, how did Speer go from architect to ammo guy?  Alrighty then, let's try and recount how it happened. First, a little bio of Speer : He was born in Mannheim, to a family I suppose one could call upper middle class.  By all accounts, his childhood was a little harsh, lacking in overt demonstrations of affection from either parent.  As a boy, Albert liked sports, particularly skiing. Even as a kid Albert was interested in art and design, an

 Last week, I left you with Cpt. Lingerie.  This week, I'm gonna tell you how he committed the act.  Alright.  Here we go. The plot to kill a president reputedly began as a plan to kidnap a president and hold him for ransom, to try and force a peace between North and South. Portrait of a murderer. Alright.  So, what was the plan?  Let's begin with JWB's co-conspirators: Mary Surratt. Lewis Powell . David Herold. George Atzerodt. Dr. Samuel Mudd. Edman "Ned" Spangler. Michael O'Laughlen. Samuel Arnold. There is one name missing from this list:  Mary Surratt's son John (look below). We'll return to John a little bit later, don't worry Dear Reader.  However, first we have to go through JWB's master plan (tragic gag), and if you don't know anything about it, Dear Reader, it might seem incredible to you that it actually worked. Alright, let's begin. It really started with the ending of the Civil War, beginning in late 1864.  JWB, as a rabid

t. Well, not precisely spicy, but perhaps  controversial, and most definitely irreverent ADVISORY: This entry is about one of the sacred moments in American history--the murder of President Lincoln.  If you're at all familiar with the style of this blog, then you already know I have an odd sense of humor.  It is NOT my intention to make light of this tragedy. Just so you know, Dear Reader.... Can you tell from the title of this entry that I don't like Booth?  Well, I don't.  He was a delusional prick.  In this week's title, I used the term "yahoo.:Here's how Jonathan Swift defined a "yahoo."  It was a name used in Jonathan Swift's novel Gulliver's Travels , to describe the lowest form of life in that universe (they looked like primitive men): They are prodigiously nimble from their infancy. However, I once caught a young male of three years old, and endeavoured, by all marks of tenderness, to make it quiet; but the little imp fell a squalling,