The Pilgrims Were Jerks

Whilst discussing the importance of religious freedom today, the pilgrims became the topic of conversation. I suppose because of the time of year it was inevitable. I do not pretend to be an expert on the pilgrims. I have watched some documentaries and read some books. I’ve thumbed through William Bradford’s journal. So I can say that I know a little bit about them but again, far from an expert. First off; these people were ballsy. Plain and simple. I understand that they were basically religious psychopaths but you can’t deny that what they did took a hell of a lot of guts. They were much tougher than you or I and for that, they deserve a little street cred. The pilgrims were also a big bunch of ornery doofuses. So allow me to explain why.

1. Everyone hated them.


When they petitioned King James I for permission to sail to the new world and establish a colony, James couldn’t say “YES!” fast enough. They weren’t even living in England at the time! Let that sink in. That is how much this guy and basically every other English person hated these people. They were in Holland and apparently that wasn’t far away enough for James. At this time the Dutch were basically doing that thing you do when you are hosting a party and you want people to leave. You know what I mean? That thing where you start saying things like, “Alright well this was awesome, guys.” One time I literally had to tell people to go home. We had a party and no one looked like they were ready to leave so I straight up told my party guests, made up mainly of my friends, to go home. That’s basically where Holland was at with these folks by 1620. They’d only been there a few years but that was more than enough for people who think wooden shoes are a good idea to see these drips as a bad one. James tells them; ‘take a charter and go start a colony. If you are successful, great! More money for me and you people are across an ocean. If you fail, great! Failure means that you’re all dead and that’s A-OK in my book.” So they went to the New World.

2. The Mayflower / Lack of Imagination.

Here’s your choice. Two hours on the Mayflower or ten minutes in Hell? Honestly; it’s a toss up. There were two ships originally. The Mayflower and the Speedwell. The Speedwell started taking on water so the pilgrims that were aboard her transferred to the Mayflower. So it was overflowing with smelly, angry zealots. Fun. Apparently the Master of the Mayflower, Christopher Jones, even remarked on how they were shitty people. Stuck in the hold of a Dutch cargo fluyt with all the farting and burping and bad breath and sweaty pits of a group of people that no one in Europe would have pissed on if they were on fire, yeah no thanks. A little boy was born aboard the ship. They named him Oceanus. They named him this because they were on the Ocean and they were bereft of any sort of creativity. Don’t believe me? When they got here, they named every town after towns in England. They didn’t even attempt to come up with their own place names. Here is a short list of towns in my state. New London, Manchester, Derby, Redding, Greenwich, Norwich, Stratford, Bristol, Avon, Fairfield, Milford, Wethersfield, etc. No imagination whatsoever. Anyway, they were crappy travelers by all accounts. That smell though… I can’t even think about it without cringing.

3. They Had No Sense of Direction

They were supposed to land at the mouth of the Hudson river, which was the very northern edge of the Jamestown colony but they ended up in Massachusetts because like everyone that would eventually come from Mass., they were lazy and confused. Actually, the captain of the Mayflower basically just wanted to dump these creeps off of his ship so he could hightail it back to England. Can you blame him? Imagine being the captain of a cargo vessel that decides that it’d be alright to take a living cargo across the ocean. Now imagine that the cargo is going to spend the entire time telling you how you are going to hell for sneezing on the sabbath. They end up on Cape Cod, piss off the native tribes to the point where they have to leave within like a month. Sound’s about right. They head across the bay and BAM! Plymouth Rock, baby. The rest as they say, is history.

4. They Thanked God for Everything

What’s wrong with that? Well nothing, really. Although it becomes a problem when you start thanking God for things like the ability to rob graves and steal corn. “Dear Lord, thank you so much for allowing us to force a family into starvation next growing season. You are the best!” It is no secret that they were religious zealots but they took the whole “God wills it” thing to a new and disturbing level. They justified all of their shittiness on God willing it. I am fairly certain God wasn’t cool with nearly 90% of what these folks did but hey, it worked for them.


In the end it’s easy to crap on people 400 years in the past. They’re not around to defend themselves. We cannot take away the fact that what they did took real courage. Leaving everything you’ve ever known behind for a place far away that you know very little about takes some serious guts. For that, I doff my cap. Also, engraining the idea of freedom of and from religion in the bones of what would become the United States of America is pretty cool. So yeah I guess we can thank them for that as well.

But they were still jerks. Luckily some Catholics eventually came over and gave this place some spice.

To the pilgrims… you guys had some cojones. But man, you were jerks.

The Pilgrims Were Jerks

Two Years Later

It has been two years and two days since I last posted on this blog. The last post was a detailed description of me running around my back yard dressed like an escaped mental patient for the benefit of my father’s trail camera. I suggest you read it as it is pretty funny if you like stories about morons doing moron stuff. In those two years, the trail camera has disappeared, most likely due to a lack of interest on my father’s part, my back yard has become laden with toys and I am still an undiagnosed mental defective.

Have I missed this blog? Yeah, kinda if I am being honest. I miss posting things. I like when someone says, “that was funny” or “that was interesting.” I am a simple man. I like when people like me. Which brings me to the meat and potatoes of this post: people either love me or hate me and the ratio isn’t particularly close. It leans heavily towards hate.

There are plenty of reasons to dislike me. Perhaps it is the fact that I am outspoken in my calling out of people’s irksome natures. Could be that in any argument, I tend to go for the jugular by the second statement. Possibly that I am a lot taller than most folks and I find that little fellas and little fellettes tend to be rather ornery. Listen, spokesperson for the Lollipop Guild, get mad at God for making your diminutive. It is not my fault that you’ve never heard the words, “hey can you move over? I can’t see over your head.” Also, it isn’t all easy going for the tall. For instance, I don’t think I could ever comfortably drive an Aston Martin. Think about that for a second. That is pretty rough.

I am guessing it isn’t my height or my acid tongue which tends to drive the masses away from me. Neither is it my odor. I take pride on not walking around with a miasma of plague-like funk emanating from my pores and clothes. Nay, dear reader. It has to be one thing and one thing only: my disdain for the idea of laying low. Let me explain. First off, I have mellowed greatly since I became a dad. I am too busy to go ten rounds with either friend or foe on the interwebs. Secondly, I have learned the great truth that arguing with someone rarely ever changes their mind. It is more like two fighters just trying to bloody the other’s nose before the bell rings to sound the end of a round. Sort of a waste of time, really. Lastly, when I do post or say something, I do not care what someone’s reaction may be. Not that I am completely misanthropic but the idea of people having to keep quiet as to not step on the proverbial toes of someone else is a new concept in modern society and one that I really don’t care for. Let me expand on that.

In the past people could navigate the relatively choppy waters of social interaction by simply avoiding certain topics of conversation. Remember the old, “no politics, no religion” agreement? Well that has well and truly gone out the window. It used to be that personal opinions about basically anything were kept in the home. When in social situations, “hot takes” were to be avoided because after all everyone had gathered for the purpose of enjoying themselves, not listening to someone’s laborious treatise on any given subject. Today, we spend much more time online then we do in social situations. In fact, due to covid, for the past couple years a lot of people have spent more time online maintaining a virtual profile than they have living in the world and maintaining a real life profile. So the rules have changed and now I know what basically everyone I am connected with on social media feels about basically everything. The problem is, I neve wanted to know any of this stuff. Now, I could simply scroll by and ignore which is what a lot of folks do in order to maintain their sanity but I have never claimed to be sane in the first place so I tend to dig.

In conclusion; big mouths including myself will always be loathed. The heat in which the loathing exists will be especially warm if what you are saying makes sense. People are incapable of admitting that any opinion other than their own is even worthy of examination. Of course you didn’t ask for my opinion but I didn’t ask for yours either. I am just playing by the rules that are constantly changing as we go. Cyber life today is one never ending game of Calvinball. Therefore, if me defending / attacking / criticizing / praising something or someone offends you; cool. Please let me know. I’m serious. I will listen to what you have to say, respond, and then continue living my life in the manner I so choose, saying whatever I’d like. It is not because I don’t love / respect / admire you. It is because this is Thunderdome. This is the world that we have collectively created. I am just trying to survive as are you. However, in the words of the poet E.E. Cummings in “I Sing of Olaf Glad and Big” … “there is some shit I will not eat.”

Two Years Later