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 This is Penelope’s Loom. A place where one can read about and perhaps discuss strange, wonderful, and peculiar historic events

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Hey!! Its Cpt. Lingerie! The "yahoo" John Wilkes Booth: psychopath, murderer, and the Assassination of Abraham Lincoln. ONE

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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,...
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"It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing": propaganda and the 2024 election. Yeah, I'm gonna write about him again.

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HERE'S ANOTHER WARNING, DEAR READER, I'M COMMENTING ON CURRENT POLITICAL EVENTS THIS WEEK.  PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU ARE BORED BY MY RANTS AGAINST A CERTAIN PERSON.   Every Person has their own opinion, and what follows is a collection of my thoughts and opinions. So, if you'll forgive me for vomiting my political views all over this page,    THANKS!! OK, if you've come this far, shall we begin? “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” ― William Shakespeare, Macbeth You've got to hand it to ole Will (or the Earl of Oxford), he sure knows how to weave a spell with words.  To tell you the truth, I w...
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'Do You Deny then, Mr. Chivington, that you're a vicious psycho hose beast?' No sir, Mr. Congressman sir, I swear I didn't know there was anyone there! The tragic massacre at Sand Creek, 1864.

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What images come to your mind, when you dream of the American West, Dear Reader? Something like this? I know that this is one of the more recognized fantasies about the western experience.  Hopefully by now, we all know that this depiction is COMPLETE bulls*&t. THERE WERE ALREADY PEOPLE THERE, FOLKS. When I think of the American western experience, I always have these images in my head: For my druthers, I prefer pictures like the above.  Images that compel impressions of space and wild beauty. Buffalo, coupled (of course) with that endless sky.  Whenever I think about the American West, I think poetically.  I think tectonically.  It's impossible to gage this landscape against the span of a single human life.  But, that is essentially what we have to do here, isn't it Dear Reader? We must create condensed sketches of larger events, even if those happenings are tragic in nature.    Which brings us to Sand Creek. The events surrounding the M...
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