Tag Archives: Mexico

Wherein AFFotD Denounced the Culinary Lies Perpetuated By the Brainless Fools Behind thetoptens.com

“Were you born without goddamn taste buds?”

~AFFotD Staffers reading The Top Tens’ list of Countries With the Worst Food

food pic

Occasionally, we have been known to read websites other than our own.  It goes against our general ego-centric, ignorance-embracing lifestyle that we’ve worked very hard to foster, but it happens.  Granted, most of the time we wander to the other darker corners of the internet, we find horrific, un-American things, so we try to limit how often we stray out, because the doctors have been telling us for years that we gotta start watching our blood pressure.

Anyway, this brings us to the purpose of today’s article.  In researching for our lovely borderline-xenophobic series, The World’s Saddest Cuisines, we stumbled across an article from thetoptens.com that claimed to list the 10 Countries with the worst food in the world.  We were interested.  Would they include Armenia?  Botswana?  Oh, God, Latvia?

What we clicked was, very possibly, the most wrong a top 10 list has ever been about anything in the history of the internet.  Fuck you, thetoptens.com, we’re going to write an article about how shit you are now.

Wherein AFFotD Denounced the Culinary Lies Perpetuated By the Brainless Fools Behind thetoptens.com

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William Walker: Not THAT Kind of Filibuster

“Wait, who’s our president?  What?”

~Residents of Nicaragua in the 1850s

 william walker

Not all Americans were heroes, and not all Americans who did things that initially come off as badass were actually badass.  What we’re trying to say is, there’s a lot of Manifest Destiny stuff that went down in the 1800s that doesn’t exactly sit well with history that many of us might not be aware of, but it is possible to at least talk about the impressive brazenness behind certain actions without condoning them.

For example—did you know that an American was briefly president of Nicaragua for about a year in the 1850s?  That’s pretty interesting, isn’t it?  Oh, what’s that?  Uh, why did that happen?  Oh, well….heeeeeee sort of wanted to take over most of Central America and turn it into a slave state affiliated with the American South.  So.  Yeah.  Not the greatest reason.  But still, interesting!  Let’s talk about it!

William Walker:  Not THAT Kind of Filibuster

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The Medal of Honor from 1871-1917: The Military Honor America Couldn’t Seem To Give Away Fast Enough

“No, seriously, you have to stop printing these like Thin Mints.  What’s it gonna take, an actual major war to make you chill?”

~Smedley Butler, trying to turn down a Medal of Honor in the early 20th century

medal of honor

We’re going to start this one off with a disclaimer—any claims we make regarding the Medal of Honor is a reflection of how politicians and military leaders handed out the honor before we really had any intense modern wars under our belt.  Our servicemen that fought in the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, or the many other excursions where they have put their lives on the line for their brothers and for their country have paid dearly for our benefit, and every single recipient of the Medal of Honor can, at worst, be called a hero (at best they can be called “basically Batman, if Batman could get free beer and deserved gratitude sex whenever they want”).

Even when we make fun of the skirmishes that resulted in Medals of honor being handed out during the time period of 1869 (when we had kind of forgotten what the Civil War was like) to 1917 (when we started World War I and realized, holy shit, this shit is super intense), we’re acknowledging that the soldiers who were awarded did show valor and a love of this country.  They just happened to get an award that was handed out to pretty much anyone who asked for it up until recently.  Let’s put it this way—Congress gave out 1522 Medal of Honors in the Civil War, of which 32 were posthumous.  Now, the American Civil War was a bloody and bitterly fought war, but when you consider the fact that we awarded only 464 during the entirety of World War II (266 posthumously by the way), or that we’ve only given out 16 (7 of which were to fallen soldiers) of these awards in the Afghanistan and Iraqi War combined, you can see how we’ve increasingly made the honor harder and harder to get.  The Congressional Medal of Honor, as we know it know, is the most prestigious and rare award for those who have gone above and beyond their duty to keep freedom within these borders—for those of you with a loose idea of what military action generally means, this is the award a soldier gets when doing something so brave and so intense that, if you saw it in a movie, you’d respond, “Oh, come on, the director’s really taking some liberties with this battle to make it seem more exciting.”

So currently, yes, the Medal of Honor is given out only in the most extraordinary and harrowing cases , but during the time period between the end of the Civil War and start of World War I?  Well, at that point it was more…

The Medal of Honor from 1871-1917: The Military Honor America Couldn’t Seem To Give Away Fast Enough

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Davy, Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier

“If they make some sort of cheesy Disney TV show about me, just make sure they point out all the Injuns I’ve killed.

~Davy Crockett

There are certain images and phrases that are ingrained in the mind of every American.  “I cannot tell a lie,” “Four score and seven years ago,” and, “Remember the Alamo,” are likely the three most instantly recognizable.  And of the iconic American images, there is Lincoln’s stove-top hat, Washington’s wig, and Davy Crockett’s coonskin cap.  For a man who only served briefly as a Congressman, and who eventually was struck down by Mexicans at the age of 50, it is Davy Crockett’s legend that lingers as strong in the minds of America as that of our greatest founding fathers.  And why is this?

Because America loves a badass, especially one who does not fuck around.

Davy (Davyyy) Crockett was born on August 17, 1786 in Tennessee, having unfortunately missed out on his chance to kill Redcoats as a child by a few years.  David Crockett was named after his paternal grandfather, who was killed by Indians in 1777.  As soon as he was born, Davy Crockett crawled out of his parent’s home, wandered to a cliff, where he dropped a boulder on a passing Indian hunting party like a goddamn Looney Tunes gag.  Once the dust had settled, he giggled, “fuuuuck you.”  When Crockett was three years old, he fashioned a raccoon out of clay.  Satisfied with his craftsmanship, a Toddler Davy Crocket spit on his creation, as most frontiersmen spent most of their time either killing Indians or spitting on the ground.  When his saliva touched the sculpture, it sprang to life, becoming a flesh-and-blood raccoon.  An astonished Davy Crocket picked up the creature, momentarily in awe of what he created, before snapping its neck and making a hat out of it.  This is the reason why his coonskin cap gave Davy Crockett his powers.

When Crockett was in school at the age of 13, taking a break from killing Indians as a way to avenge his grandfather’s death, a child at his school embarrassed him on the first day, no doubt saying, “Davy Crockett?  Who’s that?”  Crockett proceeded to beat the shit out of the dude, and began skipping classes because he figured his teacher would give him a “whupping,” which of course would mean that Crockett would have to beat the shit out of his teacher as well.  When his father found out he was skipping classes, he was so enraged that Crockett had no choice but to run away from home, spending the next three years wandering through Tennessee, where he learned how to hunt and trap animals in between his impromptu Indian hunts.

When he returned at the age of 16, he saw his hometown was in shambled, suffering from an extreme case of Davy Crockett withdrawal.  Crockett’s father was so relieved that he only beat him lightly, using an open palm.  This was the most comforting display of father affection he had ever seen, and Crockett knew he was now a man.

In 1813, Crockett joined the Tennessee Militia, where he fought in the Creek War, a Civil War between rival Native American tribes.  Crockett was able to go about killing Indians, while also working with members of the Cherokee and Choctaw tribes as allies.  This gave him an inside knowledge of how Indians think, but also satiated his Indian revenge lust for some time.

After achieving the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, Crockett decided to pursue a career in politics.  When he lost his first run for Congress in 1824, an upset Davy Crockett decided to see how many bears he could kill in a year.  His number of 105 bear kills in a year was a world record, and would remain in the history books until the birth of C. Dale Petersen.

Davy Crocket was a man of principle.  Particular, the principle of, “Stay the fuck out of my way, or I will end you.”  Davy Crockett decided to take a break from his bear hunts to become a Congressman.  His main reason for doing so was so he could say shit in speeches like, “In one word I’m a screamer, and have got the roughest racking horse, the prettiest sister, the surest rifle and the ugliest dog in the district. I’m a leetle the savagest crittur you ever did see. My father can whip any man in Kentucky, and I can lick my father. I can outspeak any man on this floor, and give him two hours start. I can run faster, dive deeper, stay longer under, and come out drier, than any chap this side the big Swamp. I can outlook a panther and outstare a flash of lightning, tote a steamboat on my back and play at rough and tumble with a lion, and an occasional kick from a zebra.”  Seriously.

And zebras kick like a motherfucker

We at AFFotD have realized that we have yet to break the fourth wall in our customary fashion, so let’s take a moment here to say, haha, holy shit, can you believe that?  Davy Crockett is the kind of man who would break into song and dance if you ever caught him fucking your wife.  Davy Crockett doesn’t need an umbrella because rain is afraid to piss him off.  If you ever thought a negative thought about Davy Crockett, his ghost would appear and kick you right in the balls, and if you are a woman his ghost would pay for and supervise a lengthy sex change procedure just so he can show up again once the final surgery is completed to christen your new balls with a fresh kick to them.  If you ever asked Davy Crockett what time it is, he’d slap your face and then gallop away riding a puma.  Seriously, he started that speech by saying, “Who-Who-Whoop — Bow-Wow-Wow-Yough” which makes it seem less like he was giving a speech to Congress, and more like he was trying to get everyone to give him a beat for some sort of early-19th century precursor to freestyle rap.

So apparently Crockett has the prettiest sister, the meanest father, and can take an occasional kick from a fucking zebra.  It’s like a game, “Which of these crazy things has Davy Crockett actually said?”  You can play at home!

A. “I’m taller than a spruce, smell lovelier than an evergreen, and if I pop you in the mouth well that’s just me being polite by not knockin’ the ugly mess right off yer shoulders.”

B. “Pop, pop, pop!  Bom, bom, bom! Throughout the day.  No time for memorandums now.  Go ahead!  Liberty and independence forever!”

C. “Well, I got my cap and my rifle, and I can end you with either iffn’ I set my mind to it.”

D. “I find my dogs had a two-year-old bear down, a-wooling away on him; so I just took out my big butcher, and went up and slap’d it into him, and killed him without shooting.”

E. “Fellas, I’ve gone dancin’ with a bear and I’ve gone trappin’ for a woman, and ain’t either’s as easy as you’d be think’n.”

F.      “I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I have done; but if not…you may all go to hell and I’ll go to Texas.”

If you guessed, “Well clearly he actually said B, D, and F, but you guys did a good job with A, C, and E, because those pretty much sound like something Crockett would say,” then you would be correct.  And by the way, B happens to be the last thing written down in his journal during the battle of the Alamo.  Fuckin’ A.

During his time in Congress, Crockett became political enemies with Andrew Jackson, refusing to be his “lap dog.”  Andrew Jackson has killed for less, but he was also smart enough to know that it’s not a good idea to get in a duel with a man who was able to shoot a bullet at an ax from 40 yards away and split the fucking bullet in half.  He primarily opposed Jackson on the Indian Relocation Act, probably because they’d be a lot tougher to chase down if they were moved West.  This opposition cost him a chance at reelection, to which he told everyone, “Well, fuck off, then,” (Quote F) and went off to Mexico, having grown tired of killing Indians and Bears, and wanting to upgrade to Mexicans.

Davy (Davyyyy) Crockett (King of the Wild Frontier) went down to the Alamo, bringing with him some dozens of armed Americans, including legendary pioneer Jim Bowie, the creator of the Bowie knife, as well as the inventor of the popular singer David Bowie.  In February of 1836, Crockett and his entourage arrived at the Alamo, where the garrisoned men were surprised to see an entire Mexican Army awaiting them.  While everyone thought to themselves, “shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiit,” Crockett and Bowie just smiled and prepared for the bloodbath.

The rest of the story is engrained in American History, the inevitable defeat against impossible odds of the Alamo.  After battle the Mexican siege for two weeks, the Mexican army broke through the walls on March 6th, killing every member of the Alamo Mission, though the overmatched members of the Alamo killed between 400 and 600 of the Mexican troops assaulting them, accounting for over one third of the attacking force.  There are two accounts of Davy Crockett’s final moments, both of which highlight the “Don’t fuck with me, assholes” spirit of David Crockett.  One account, from a former American Slave who worked as a cook for one of the Mexican officers, describes that David Crockett was found dead in the barracks, surrounded by, “No less than sixteen Mexican corpses,” with his knife buried in one of them.  This would not be surprising, since at the age of 50 Crockett would not be able to kill quite as many Mexicans as in his youth, but it’s still an impressive effort.

The second tale of his demise speculates that Crockett was captured, with an enraged Santa Anna demanding he be executed.  While this is often used to show Santa Anna as a ruthless military leader without honor, it does capture Crockett’s final words as, “I’m warning you boys, I’m a screamer.”  Either way, it can be decided that Davy Crockett left this world the same way he entered it- with a big “Fuck you” to a large group of minorities.