A. Change The Name Of Arkansas
Well, of course, this actually happened. In the reconstruction days of the South it got to be pretty serious when the carpet-baggers came down and started running the whole show down here. And things were especially rough up in the state of Arkansas when it was very seriously proposed to change the name of the state. And this is taken down on the Legislative rolls which can now be found, I think, under the date of July the 23rd, 1867. And this is what the hometown boy had to say. I think first he, he pulled out his horse-pistol and laid it across his desk so he wouldn't be interrupted.
Mr. Speaker, god-damn your soul, for more than thirty minutes I've been trying to get your attention but every time I caught your eye you squirmed like a damn dog with a flea in his ass.
I guess you know who I am Sir. My name is Cassius M. Johnson from Jackson County, Arkansas where a man can't stick his ass out the window and shit without it getting riddled with bullets. Why Sir, I was fourteen years old before I had my first pair of pants and they was of buckskin. But at the age of seventeen Mr. Speaker, I had a jock on me the size of a roasting ear and it was the pride of Jackson County. And you propose to change the name of Arkansas. Never, by God Sir, never!
I'm out of order? How can I be out of order when I can piss clear across the Mississippi River?
Where was Andrew Jackson when the battle of New Orleans was fit? He was right thar Sir, up to his ass in blood. And you change the name of Arkansas? Never, when I can defend her.
You may shit on the grave of George Washington. Piss on the monument of Thomas Jefferson. You may desecrate the sacred remains of the immortal General Robert E. Lee. You may rape the Goddess of Liberty and wipe your ass on the Stars and Stripes. And your crime, your crime Sir will no more compare to this hellish design than the glow of a lightning-bug's ass to the glare of the noon days sun. And you propose to change the name of Arkansas. Never, by God Sir, never!
You may compare the lily of the valley to the glorious sunflower. Or the sun-kissed peaks of the highest mountains to the smokin' turd of a dunghill. Or the classic strains of Mozart to the fart of a Mexican burrow. You may compare the puny penis of a Peruvian prince to the ponderous buttocks of the Roman gladiator. But change the name of Arkansas? Never, by God Sir, never!
- Various Artists
-
/unexpurgated_folk_songs_thumb.jpg)
Unexpurgated Folk Songs of Men- Intro. To Change The Name of Arkansas Time: 1:29
- Change The Name of Arkansas - [John Lomax, Jr.] Time: 2:09
-
/unexpurgated_folk_songs.jpg)
B. Change the Name of Arkansas
Here is an alleged excerpt from the records of the state legislature in a debate to determine whether a certain territory should be named Arkansas or Ar-Kansas. Senator Johnson in 1881 made the following speech, keeping in mind that the territory of Pennsylvania would be named Mississippi.
Mr. Speaker, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Speaker, Mr. SPEAKERRRRRR! God damn your
ornery
soul to hell. I've been trying to get your attention for the last 15
minutes!
And each time you worm and squirm like a dog with its ass full of fleas.
Now for the benefit of you potbellied bowlegged sons of bitches who don't
know
who I am - I'm Senator High Johnson, Johnson's county Arkansas. A place so
goddamned tough a man dare not hang his ass out the window to take a decent
shit
for fear of getting it filled full of buckshot. Where a woman can throw her
left
tit over her shoulder and squirt milk up her ass from the nipple thereof.
Where
a girl at the tender age of three is no longer a virgin, unless she can
outrun
her big brother.
Why I was eight years old before my ma put a pair of shoes on me. I walked
backwards all week looking at my track; prettiest damned thing I ever seen.
When
I was ten ma put a necktie around me, stood in my tracks all day, thought
I was hitched. When I was twelve I had a dick the size of a roasting ear,
and I
could piss halfway across the Mississippi River.
You're out of order! You're out of order!
You're goddamn right I'm out of order, or I'd of pissed all the way across.
The honorable gentlemen before me have compared the mighty state of
Mississippi
to the state of Arkansas. Why that's like comparing the puny penis of a
Peruvian prince to the rustic rod of a roman gladiator, the sweet delicate
aroma
of a virgin pussy to the foul odor of a Missouri mule fart. You can search
from
the snow capped mountains of the Rockies to the Rio Grande, from the coast
of
Maine to the sunny shores of California, but you'll NEVER find a state like
Arkansas.
As for changing the name of this glorious state, you can fart in my face,
piss
in my ears, and shove my face in a bucket of shit. But change the name of
Arkansas? No! No! For HELL NO!
- Various Artists
- [plain white label 78 with black text]
- 18B - Mr. Speaker - [Unknown] Time: 2:17
- [plain white label 78 with black text]
C. Change the Name of Arkansas
"Mr. Speaker, you blue-bellied rascal! I have for the last thirty minutes been trying to get your attention, and each time I have caught your eye, you have wormed, twisted and squirmed like a dog with a flea in his hide, damn you!
"Gentlemen, you may tear down the honored pictures from the halls of the United States Senate, desecrate the grave of George Washington, haul down the Stars and Stripes, curse the Goddess of Liberty, and knowk down the tomb of U.S. Grant, but your crime would in no wise compare in enormity with what you propose to do when you would change the name of Arkansas'. Change the name of Arkansssa - hell-fire, no!
"Compare the lily of the valley to the gorgeous sunrise; the discordant croak of the bullfrom to the melodious tones of a nightingale; the classic strains of Mozart to the bray of a Mexican mule; the puny arm of a Peruvian prince to the muscles of a Roman Gladiator but change the name of Arkansas. Hell, No!
D. Change the Name of Arkansas
"Mr. Speaker: God damn your soul; for more than thirty minutes I have been trying to get your attention. Every time I caught your eye, you wormed and squirmed like a dog with a flea in his ass and you blue bellied son of a bitch, I guess you don't know who I am. I'm Cassius M. Johnson from Jackson County, A-R-K., where a man can't stick his ass out of his own window to shit without getting it riddled with bullets. Why, such, I was fourteen years old before I had my first pants, and they were made of buckskin. At the age of 17, Mr. Speaker, I had a tool on me as big as a roasting ear, and it was the pride of Jackson County.
"And, suh, you propose to change the name of Arkansas! No, by God, never. Where was Andrew Jackson when the battle of New Orleans was fit? He was right there, suh, up to his ass in blood - and you change the name of Arkansas? Never while I can defend her. You may tear down the pictures from the walls of the senatorial hall, go shit on the grave of George Washington, and piss on the monument of U.S. Grant, then wipe your ass on the stars and stripes, rape the Goddess of Liberty and your crime will no more compare with that hellish design than the glow of a lightning bugs ass to the glow of a noonday sun. What, change the name of Arkansas? Hell's fire no! Again I san, God damn your soul, No! Compare the lily of the valley to the gorgeous sunflower, and the sun kissed peaks of our highest mountains to the smoking turd of a dunghill, change the nightingal'es song to the discordant cry of a bull frog, or the classic strains of Mozart to the fart of a Mexican burro. Compare the puny penis of the Peruvian Prince to the ponderous bollix of the Roman Gladiator. But change the name of Arkansas
"Never, by God, suh, NEVER!
E. Change the Name of Arkansas? (aka Senator Johnson's Great Speech)
One time there was a goddam Yankee moved to Arkansas, and got elected to the Legislature. The first thing he done was put in a bill to make Arkansas rhyme with Kansas, just because it is spelled that way. The Arkansawyers got pretty mad, of course, so they begun to stomp and holler. There was one old man that hollered louder than anybody else, and finally the rest of 'em quietened down to hear what he had to say,
- "Mr. Speaker, God damn your soul," says he, "I've been trying to get the floor for thirty minutes, but all you do is squirm around like a dog with a flea in his ass! I'm Senator Cassius M. Johnson from Johnson County, where we raise men with peckers on, and the women are glad of it. Why, gentlemen, at the tender age of sixteen them girls can throw their left tit over their right shoulder, and squirt milk up their ass-hole as the occasion demands! When I was fourteen years old my prick was big as a roasting-ear, the pride and joy of the whole goddam settlement. Gentlemen, I could piss half-way across the Ouachita!"
Everybody clapped when they heard that, but the Speaker begun to holler "Out of order! Out of order!" and pound on his desk,
- "You're goddam right it was out of order," says Senator
Johnson, "otherwise I could have pissed clear across the son of-a-bitch! That's the kind of folks we raise in Johnson County, gentlemen, and we ain't never been dictated to by nobody. And now comes this pusillanimous blue-bellied Yankee who wants
to change the name of Arkansas, Why, Mister Speaker, he compares the great state of Arkansas to Kansas! You might as well liken the noonday sun in all its glory to the feeble glow of a lightning-bug's ass, or the fragrance of an American Beauty rose to the foul quintessence of a Mexican burro's fart! Can all the power of this Assembly enlargen the puny penis of a Peruvian
prince to a ponderous pagan prick, or the tiny testicles of a Turkish tyrant to the bulky bollyx of a Roman gladiator? Change
the name of Arkansas? Great God Almighty damn! No, gentlemen! Hell fire, no!
"What the God damn hell is things a-coming to, anyhow? Why, gentlemen, it's got so a man can't take down his pants for a good country shit without getting his ass full of birdshot. Change the name of Arkansas? Great God Almighty damn! You may piss on Jefferson's grave, gentlemen. You may shit down the White House steps, and use the Declaration of Independence for a corncob. You may rape the Goddess of Liberty at high noon, and wipe your tally whacker on the Star Spangled Banner. You may do all this, gentlemen, and more. But you can't change the name of Arkansas! Not while one patriot lives to prevent such desecration! Change the name of Arkansas? Hell fire, no!"
History don't tell us what happened after that, but everybody knows the Yankee's bill was killed, dead as a whore's turd in a piss-pot. Them son-of-a-bitches up North think the whole thing was just a joke, and some of 'em claim Senator Johnson didn't make no speech at all. But every true-blooded Arkansawyer knows that Senator Cassius M. Johnson jumped into the breech that day, to save the Bear State from treason and disgrace. We ain't going to forget it, neither.
[This is tale No. 69, without the annotations on variants, etc. by Frank A. Hoffmann, in Randolph's book Pissing in the Snow and Other Ozark Folktales , Copyright © 1976 by the Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois. —Ed.]
F. Change the Name of Arkansas
"Mr. Speaker. Mr. Speaker: For the last half an hour, I've been trying to get the floor, and every time I catch your eye, you wiggle and squirm like a mangy dog with a flea in his ass.
"Maybe you don't know who I am. I'm Senator Johnson from Johnson County, Arkansas, where we raise men who are men, and women who are glad of it. Why down in Johnson county a man can't even stick his ass out the window to take a good country shit without getting his tail filled with buckshot. Down in Johnson county we raise girls who, at the tender age of sixteen, can throw their left tit over their right shoulder and wipe their ass with the nipple thereof, or squirt milk up their asshole, as the occasion demands. When I was a boy at the age of 14, I had a prick the size of a roasting ear, the pride of Johnson County. Why I could piss halfway across the Ouachita River. (The Speaker: Out of order. Out of order.) You're Goddamned right it was out of order; if it hadn't been I could have pissed clear across the son-of-a bitch.
"Now here is this narrow assed, long gutted, cross-eyed son of a cross between a Missouri mule and a gorilla, who proposes that the name of Arkansas be change to Ar-Kansas. Why, Mr. Speaker, to compare the fair state of Arkansas to that of Kansas is to compare the light of the noonday sun in all its brilliance to the feeble glow of a lightning bug's ass; or to compare the sweet fragrance of an American Beauty rose to the foul quintessence of a Mexican burro's fart. Why, to compare the great state of Arkansas to that of Kansas is to compare the puny penis of a Peruvian
"Yes, gentlemen, you may pluck the tail feather of the American eagle. You may piss from the Washington monument. You may shit on the White House steps, and wipe your ass on the Declaration of Independence. Yes, you may even rape the Goddess of Liberty, but change the name of Arkansas, NO. Not only no, but hellfire and damnation, no!