by Emily Adams
John Hancock’s recovered ‘Call to Arms’ for a facet of freedom previously unnoted in history:
Exhaustion is the enemy. For building America is no easy task. And in the same realm, does not invite any desire to wine and dine a woman around the clock. What a world it would be, if we were to do away with frivolous flirtation, to set down our monocles and undo our waistcoats with comfort in knowing that our next romance was simply, say, a swipe away.
A fine pairing would acquire a time and a place to do with each other what they pleased. I, after a tiring day of signatures and wig powdering, could enjoy a night, not so alone. Perhaps fire my bayonet a round or two before its time on the battlefield. And come dawn, I could depart, content knowing that I would never have to see the wench again.
I know what you are pondering: “But John, she’d be agape and enamored with the size of your handsome initial on the Declaration. How could you dare?” To that I say, naturally! As well as, how could I not dare! For you, sad sir, should sleep tight with the knowledge that there are many, many more where she hails from, syphilis be damned.
It is not pursuing one special lady that concerns me, merely the prospect of easing the way of attaining any lady who seems to be, as they call it, down. “Quantity over quality,” I can hear my beloved mother shouting from beyond.
Who declares we cannot hit it and quit it? The King? Nay. He himself rests upon a throne of commitment. Taxation without representation? Simply a misdemeanor in the eyes of this republic. It is far more of a crime to shower your ladies with high expectations and respect. For that, he is a guilty fool.
It is our new nation, the United States of America, that shall not suffer from this sick suppression. Rather, we shall flourish with opportunity, we shall expand from sea to shining sea, and we shall all get some. We cannot be limited by the abominable tradition of face-to-face pursuit, of flattery, of putting on pants. The audacity!
So go on! Seize and unravel the ribbons of your dashing young neighbor. Not dashing? Not a problem. She’s breathing! And as with her, as with the crown. We are Americans and we will indeed do as we’ve always done. We will conquer and pillage in the name of our growing nation. Swipe to the right with them all, gentlemen. Because we are men! Men that will light the flames of revolution just as we will Tinder the fires of our desperation.
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