This last weekend my wife and I were visiting my cousin and his wife who live near Nashville, TN. Saturday was spectacularly beautiful. Cool and clear, the hills were all ablaze with autumnal colors that we just don't get here in Florida. We decided to go to The Hermitage, Andrew Jackson's estate, for our day's outing.

I am very well read when it comes to American history. Whereas I'm much more of a John C. Calhoun man philosophically, I respect Andrew Jackson a lot. He was a great White man. Truly a giant who made huge waves as he strode through his time on earth. He was a dominant, alpha male if there was ever one. A man who took no grief from anyone. Hell, he was involved in a duel, dispatched his opponent, then left the dueling grounds without anybody there knowing he'd also been shot. He just shot better. He was still a young fellow when the men in his militia named him 'Old Hickory' because of his toughness on the march and in the fight. In spite of his toughness, he was a dedicated family man. He lived to be 78 but his wife died when she was 61. He had her portrait hung in his bedroom so that the last thing he saw when he fell asleep, and the first thing he saw when he woke up, was her face.

We took a walking tour of the estate's grounds and then the mansion itself. The grounds were magnificent and the mansion was impressive too. The little old ladies doing the tour guide thing at the mansion were okay but could have been better. Their presentation was a bit staid from way too much repetition.

Back at the museum, the film presentation was pretty good mainly because its making was many years ago before political correctness became the rule. The museum itself is where everything went to hell.

Between each and every display case, everywhere you looked, hung huge goddamn posters of niggers. Everything was slave this, afreakin-uhmerican that. Oh! How they did suffer. The displays made it appear that, had it not been for the noble black folks down on farm, Andrew goddamn Jackson wouldn't have been shit.

In one case was a tiny little picture of Andrew Jackson III, and a little bitty card that mentioned in passing that he'd been a Confederate soldier, and flanking this case on either side were these big assed posters of some monkey muzzled beasts looking down on you.

These niggers counted for nothing. They were work units much like a mule or any other farm livestock. They didn't plan, finance, or market a damn thing. At best they did what they were made to do. Zimbabwe is an example of what they do when left to their own accords.

To me this glorification of nigger slaves in those displays is equivalent to showing in massive detail a certainly noble but nameless goddamn nigger someone shoveling horse shit, but only mentioning as an afterthought that the horse was Secretariat. The dung removal expert is what is important you know, not the greatest horse to ever run.

I can only imagine the impression all this has on the uneducated. I can hear it now, "Well George, Old Hickory wouldn't have been a fiddle stick without those noble African Americans that made him what he was. He might've been the boss, but they were the ones who made things happen. I wonder how many of those poor slave women he raped. You know, I'll bet he was like that Jefferson fellow, half the slave children on the plantation were his."

I saw one lemming bitch standing there reading one of the innumerable slave displays holding a crumpled tissue in one hand as she sniffed and let a tear go.

Fer chrissakes!

Its not enough that "they" just fuckin' rewrite history to suit, but then they shove our faces in it.

Andrew Jackson was 6'1" and only weighed in at 140 lbs. But, I'd bet that old boy would put his boot in somebody's ass if he could see how his life story has been so twisted in his own home.