How to Fight Presidents: Defending Yourself Against the Badasses Who Ran This Country by Daniel O'Brien Page B
Authors: Daniel O'Brien
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strongest 1800s version of the “he’s a loose cannon but, dammit, he gets
results
” speech that we will ever hear.
His constant drunkenness combined with his terrifying innate battle prowess made him impossibly great as a soldier and later commander of the Union Army, and by “impossibly great” I do mean that he objectively should not have been as successful as he was. He was regularly going up against generals who had more experience and skill and sobriety, and, like Washington before him, would often return from battle unscathed despite having had his horse shot out from under him, or his sword shot right out of his hand. He won because he was lucky, full of liquid courage, and stubborn. Grant admitted on more than one occasion to having an inability to turn back in battle after choosing to advance, an aversion based entirely on his own superstitions. He thought it was bad luck to retreat, so he fought and he fought and he fought and he
fought
.
But all hope is not lost, because you are holding a book about president-fighting, which—unless a book called
This Book Is Made of a Poison to Which Ulysses S. Grant Is Allergic
exists that I somehow didn’t hear about—makes mine the best book you could possiblyhave in this situation. Grant drank as much as he did because he was cripplingly insecure, specifically about being naked. All of his fellow soldiers would shower outside together in the morning, and Grant was the only one who refused to be seen naked by any of his men. He would bathe himself alone in his tent, and not a single other soldier (not even his aides and helpers) was allowed to see him, perhaps because he was worried they would laugh at or say disparaging things about his genitals. John Quincy Adams swam naked every single day and
loved talking about it
, while Grant, on the other hand, steadfastly kept his genitals from everyone but his wife.
Now, this isn’t a book about presidential genitals (that will be my next book), so it’s not my place to speculate on whether or not President Ulysses S. Grant had weird balls, but I would like to float that out as a possibility before we continue. Again, it would be historically irresponsible of me to state “Grant’s balls were super-weird” as a fact, as I am not an expert on how weird Grant’s balls may or may not have been, but in the interest of thoroughness, I
would
like to leave it out here as a potentiality. Grant might have had weird balls. You can choose to ignore or exploit this when you fight him in a few hours.
It wasn’t just his comically misshapen balls that made Grant uncomfortable. For someone who made a career out of killing and helping other people kill, he was notoriously squeamish when it came to blood. He hated the sight and taste of it so much that, on the rare occasions when he did eat meat, he demanded that it be burned to a near crisp. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his magnificent beard, you might even confuse Grant with a woman. In his youth, he was small, slender, and rosy-cheeked, with a face like a little girl’s face. Some historians have described him as “feminine” and “soft,” and his fellow officers’ nickname for him up until the Mexican War was the “Little Beauty.” His light, sing-songy voice often startled people, who assumed he’d have a more commanding voice, one more appropriate for a commander.
I don’t know if you’ve settled on what kind of fight you and Grant will be having, but if you could avoid using animals at all costs, that would probably be wise. If you’ve already decided that this battlewill take place on horse- or sharkback, there’s very little this book can do for you. If not, leave the animals out, because Grant had a real soft spot for them.
Grant was rejected by both of his parents and not liked by the other people in his age group (his nickname before the “Little Beauty” was “Useless”), so he turned to animals. He rode and loved horses and spent all of his
results
” speech that we will ever hear.
His constant drunkenness combined with his terrifying innate battle prowess made him impossibly great as a soldier and later commander of the Union Army, and by “impossibly great” I do mean that he objectively should not have been as successful as he was. He was regularly going up against generals who had more experience and skill and sobriety, and, like Washington before him, would often return from battle unscathed despite having had his horse shot out from under him, or his sword shot right out of his hand. He won because he was lucky, full of liquid courage, and stubborn. Grant admitted on more than one occasion to having an inability to turn back in battle after choosing to advance, an aversion based entirely on his own superstitions. He thought it was bad luck to retreat, so he fought and he fought and he fought and he
fought
.
But all hope is not lost, because you are holding a book about president-fighting, which—unless a book called
This Book Is Made of a Poison to Which Ulysses S. Grant Is Allergic
exists that I somehow didn’t hear about—makes mine the best book you could possiblyhave in this situation. Grant drank as much as he did because he was cripplingly insecure, specifically about being naked. All of his fellow soldiers would shower outside together in the morning, and Grant was the only one who refused to be seen naked by any of his men. He would bathe himself alone in his tent, and not a single other soldier (not even his aides and helpers) was allowed to see him, perhaps because he was worried they would laugh at or say disparaging things about his genitals. John Quincy Adams swam naked every single day and
loved talking about it
, while Grant, on the other hand, steadfastly kept his genitals from everyone but his wife.
Now, this isn’t a book about presidential genitals (that will be my next book), so it’s not my place to speculate on whether or not President Ulysses S. Grant had weird balls, but I would like to float that out as a possibility before we continue. Again, it would be historically irresponsible of me to state “Grant’s balls were super-weird” as a fact, as I am not an expert on how weird Grant’s balls may or may not have been, but in the interest of thoroughness, I
would
like to leave it out here as a potentiality. Grant might have had weird balls. You can choose to ignore or exploit this when you fight him in a few hours.
It wasn’t just his comically misshapen balls that made Grant uncomfortable. For someone who made a career out of killing and helping other people kill, he was notoriously squeamish when it came to blood. He hated the sight and taste of it so much that, on the rare occasions when he did eat meat, he demanded that it be burned to a near crisp. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his magnificent beard, you might even confuse Grant with a woman. In his youth, he was small, slender, and rosy-cheeked, with a face like a little girl’s face. Some historians have described him as “feminine” and “soft,” and his fellow officers’ nickname for him up until the Mexican War was the “Little Beauty.” His light, sing-songy voice often startled people, who assumed he’d have a more commanding voice, one more appropriate for a commander.
I don’t know if you’ve settled on what kind of fight you and Grant will be having, but if you could avoid using animals at all costs, that would probably be wise. If you’ve already decided that this battlewill take place on horse- or sharkback, there’s very little this book can do for you. If not, leave the animals out, because Grant had a real soft spot for them.
Grant was rejected by both of his parents and not liked by the other people in his age group (his nickname before the “Little Beauty” was “Useless”), so he turned to animals. He rode and loved horses and spent all of his
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