Please Help Us, Zombie Andrew Jackson

Screen Shot 2017-05-01 at 5.30.28 PMHelp us Zombie Andrew Jackson. Please.

In case you did not yet get the news on the other side, here’s what the man who currently holds your old gig had to say:

“I mean, had Andrew Jackson been a little bit later, you wouldn’t have had the Civil War. He was a very tough person, but he had a big heart. And he was really angry that he saw what was happening, with regard to the Civil War. He said, there’s no reason for this. People don’t realize, the Civil War — you think about it, why? People don’t ask that question. But why was there a Civil War? Why could that one not have been worked out?”

Is this for real? Was this an episode of Drunk History? I mean…honestly. Let me quote that one more time…just let it sink in.

“People don’t ask that question. But why was there a Civil War?”



So,  Mr. President…no, not you Easy D, but Zombie Andrew Jackson. Can you please arise from the dead and help rid us of our pestilence…that plague of imbecility that has descended upon our nation’s most hallowed office…before another epic conflagration erupts? We need your help. I will put aside the fact that while you were alive, you were an Indian-murdering slave-owning sociopath. Because apparently, you are the right man for the job.

With compliments,

Please stop calling these three a-holes the Beverly Hillbillies

Screen Shot 2017-04-21 at 12.35.34 PM I am not offering a partisan post here. Just a request to those who were, shall we say, disappointed by the recent image of Sarah Palin, Ted Nugent, and Kid Rock mocking former First Lady and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton during a White House visit with Mr. Trump.

Folks keep referring to the trio as the Beverly Hillbillies, in reference to the 1960s television sitcom featuring a family of rural Arkansas farmers who struck it rich and moved to sunny Los Angeles. This odd juxtaposition, as you might guess…led to all sorts of hilarity.

But I would hate to think that modern critics would lump rural southerners in with the intolerant, ignorant, Confederate flag waving rednecks that seem to support the three pictured above. Yet that is what is happening. Please stop.

Here’s the thing. The Clampett family (said 1960s “hillbillies”) were uneducated, simple, country folks – but they were kind, considerate, and compassionate. They represented the very best of rural America, which, for all its campiness, was what the show was about.

For those of you who were not around during the 60s, or perhaps did not catch the 1970s reruns of this show, The Beverly Hillbillies was part of a comedic television genre, which included Petticoat Junction, Green Acres, and a number of others. Sure, there was some tongue-in-cheek ribbing when it came to rural southern simplicity (Jethro Bodine…). But beyond that, these shows underscored the character of rural Americans. These were shows about virtuous people.

The three pictured above are the opposite of that. They are disrespectful, purile, gloating imbeciles. It makes no difference to me what you think of Hillary Clinton’s politics, but Americans on both sides of the aisle should have the good sense to condemn this childish behavior….just please stop calling them the Beverly Hillbillies. You are missing the mark.

Thanks in advance,


Racy Tune from the 18th Century – Oh MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Screen Shot 2017-02-06 at 1.27.12 PMRecently, I spoke with archeologist and historian Damian Shiels for the Rogue Historian podcast. We had a great talk – mostly about Irish immigration in the 19th century and about Irish in the American Civil War. Good stuff. But something came up when we were discussing odd things one might find in the archives. Damian mentioned a previously unpublished song that was loaded with – shall we say – bawdy lyrics.

I asked to publish the song here…how could I resist. Read if you will…and try not to blush…just watch out for the Shilealy.

‘A New Song’

Murtagh O’Blany & Jenny O’Donely

Both went together to thresh in the barn

He laid her down and her so bonnily

Arra says he but I’ll do you no harm

O but says Jenny I fear you’ll be In me

And what if I am I’ll do you no harm

O Murtagh be easy I faint

Be quiet my Jewel my door

For by St. Patrick our Saint

I’ll give you no reason to fear

Then with a look so engaging and gently

He to her bosom his hand did apply

Both her snowy mountains he tousled so daintily

That with her passion caused many a sigh

O But says Jenny I fear you’ll be in me

By Jesus says he if I don’t I shall die

O’ Murtagh be easy I pray

Do prithy be gone from my sight

By Jesus my virtue’l give way

I’m lost in a flood of delight

He then beholding her eyelids thus quivering

Scarcely from pity his heart could refrain

Fearing to anger her he stood a wavering

But was resolved to attack her again

Then Mr. Blaney pulled out his Shilealy

A weapon he ne’er show’d a woman In vain

Staring she lift up her eyes

And gently she rear’d up her head

What is it O Murtagh she cries

That looms so stately and red

Sweet one says Murtagh I’ll show you the use of it

Gently fall backwards your legs open wide

No girl in Munster to big it as you so fitt

It with your hand you’d vouchsafe it to guide

Then Miss O’Donnely strok’d it so bonnily

Arrah says she but I’ll down with your pride

Then closing with eager embrace

They soon reach’d the end of their joy

Jenny now alter’d her gaze

No longer was she squeamish and Coy

With sweet raptures and soft dying murmurings

Lifeless they lay as it was in a trance

Eager he drove but could drive it no further in

Jenny had shiver’d the lance

Oh what’s that says Jenny

Felt so warm in me

That makes all my bowels to prance

‘Tis loves luscious Balsom my dear

Says Murtagh the tulip of life

A cordial that banishes care

Curd cures the worst scold of a wife’

Wow. Original available at

National Library of Ireland MS. 3240: ‘Notebook of an Irish Ensign Gilbert King serving with the British Forces in Canada & Containing Personal Accounts, Copies of letters & two songs, 1761-68.’


With compliments,








A Poem

screen-shot-2016-12-14-at-6-28-25-pmI have many talented colleagues – some of whom do much more that one might think…like write poetry.

One such individual shared this with me yesterday…


The End

by Jeremy Shine


If I had to choose a way to die,

I think I would like to go

In the form of a house-fly,

Who meets his end

By way of the hard-cover

Of a well-read and much liked

History, one whose prose

Could sweep you into

A world long past, and yet

With clear relevance to our own;

Continuity being of the essence.

And the comforting thought

That life goes on, the Future assured.

As it is written:

Just as we are now and those that were are to us,

So we will be then to those to be.

(On the other hand,

Maybe a newspaper would be best.)





Cemetery Finds

2-screen-shot-2016-10-18-at-2-20-58-pmI spend a lot of time in my local cemetery – Hollywood Forever. The cemetery,  among the most interesting in Los Angeles, is the final resting place for all kinds of Hollywood celebrities – from Cecil B. DeMille to Rudolph Valentino to Dee Dee Ramone. But nearly every time I visit, I find the grave of someone who strikes a historical chord – often having some Civil War connection. Just the other day, I encountered this rather dignified looking fellow: one Cornelius Cole. Cole served a single term in the House of Representatives representing the Republican Party from California from 1863 to 1865, and then in the Senate from 1867 to 1873.

After the war he practicscreen-shot-2016-10-18-at-2-38-46-pmed law in San Francisco and then Los Angeles where he purchased one of the original Spanish landgrants – he called it Colegrove.

Well…Colegrove is now Hollywood. But at least they named a street after him. So if you are in town and find yourself on Cole Street – you’ll know where it got its name.

With compliments,



Americana. Public History. Historical Memory.