(I today came across this piece, in a remote diverted bowel of my computer, while looking for something else. I don’t know where if ever it was before published. The timing for it now seems right and meet, as racist rapist Pete Hosgbreath, at the command of racist rapist the enemy, is cleansing all mention by the Department of Defense on Arlington Cemetery, land once owned by Eddie Lee, as well as all and every other place, of anything referencing Americans black, brown, red, yellow, x-chrome, gay, Hebrew—all must again be, as intended from the beginning, and as fought for like twelve bastards by such as Eddie Lee, but one great sheet of eternal mouthbreathing knuckledragging dimbulb male christy hetero whiteness. All else. To the Kleagle. To Hogsbreath. To Eddie Lee. Anathema.)

We’re coming up soon now on the anniversary of the day in 1865 when R. Eddie Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia at Appomattox Court House. He’d been out-generaled by Grant, and his troops out-fought by soldiers loyal to the Union, and now they were all surrounded. Grant could have Bighorned them all, but he was magnanimous, and allowed Eddie Lee to run out with the white flag. Eddie had lost the war, years ago, at Antietam, but, like Schicklgruber, who lost his war at Stalingrad, Eddie refused to acknowledge reality. And so condemned millions more to several more years of death and destruction, before belatedly acknowledging what had long ago already happened.

After the war, its story was mostly told by southerners, and so Ed became in the public mind a sort of god-king of generals. When in truth he was never worth shit. Today the consensus among the sane and decent is that Ed was wrong from the start, a complete bellyflopper, his strategy to recurrently take the war to the north daylight madness, that but bled him of men he could not afford to lose. Whereas if he’d had a Brain he would have hunkered down in the south, fought a defensive war; proper deployment of his yeehaws would have made them near impossible to dislodge. And then maybe the Union would have given up and gone away, allowing the south to persist another generation or two in owning human beings as property—the sole cause of the war, as reflected in documents ranging from the secession declarations of the various southern states, to the letters written home from soldiers in the field.

Eddie Lee was a full-on unreconstructed racist, who after the war declared black people absolutely could not be allowed to vote, as they had no higher brain functioning, and insisted the south should be allowed to go back to the way it had always been—except, okay, yeah, for the slavery part. He perpetrated the lie that slave days had pretty much been fun and games for everyone, and the white people down there had nothing but wuv for the black people: “The idea that the Southern people are hostile to the negroes and would oppress them, if it were in their power to do so, is entirely unfounded. They have grown up in our midst, and we have been accustomed from childhood to look upon them with kindness.” So there didn’t need to be any, like, new laws, or shit: “The relations between the Negroes and the whites were friendly formerly, and would remain so if legislation be not passed in favor of the blacks, in a way that will only do them harm.”

At the dawn of the war, when Lee turned traitor, the Union seized his plantation along the Potomac, land that had come to him through his wife—like George Washington, Lee married for money; Lee and his wife both descendants of the Washington clan; all these people were inbred—and began sowing it with bodies; today it is Arlington National Cemetery. This right and meet, as Lee was one of the greatest filler of boneyards in American history.

When it came time for Lee himself to boneyard, there was, like, a Problem. No suitable coffin could be found locally, so three were ordered up from Richmond. But it was the rainy season, and not even coffins wanted anything to do with Ed, dead or alive, and so on the journey to Lee’s corpse all three washed off down the Maury River. A couple of boys found one, swept ashore, and Lee was placed in that. Except it was too short. And so he was buried without shoes.

Thus Eddie neither died with his boots on, nor was he buried in them. It was perfectly appropriate that Ed cross the river Styx shoeless, as through his obdurate refusal to recognize it was All Over, he caused so many of his men, and boys, to march through the years of the end of the war, without shoes.

In his end of days, Ed said the greatest regret of his life was that he took a military education. He’d decided, he said, he should have done something else.

No. Shit. Sherlock.

To this day, there are those who will claim Eddie Lee had game. To this I say: Fuck the game. If it don’t mean nothin’. And Ed’s game, it never meant a thing. He just stood in the way of evolution. But another sorry Thanatos boy. Sad. And for all time. Sack.

So. Let it be written. As it was surely. Done.