Commissioned in 1861 and quickly rising to the rank of General, Gerthack McGillicudy was renowned for his sight on the battlefield and ability to maneuver units into effective segments. Though it may seem outlandish in these present times, much of the historical evidence from that era seems to point towards an exceptionally long neck as the source of his successes. To wit:

Schenectady Picayune-Register: March 5, 1862

Union physicians have recently undertaken a scientific inquiry to determine the standing of Gen. Gerthack “Long-Neck” McGillicudy’s neck relative to the necks of all of humanity. Their conclusion: Gen. McGillicudy indeed possesses the longest neck in the history of mankind. Rejoice!

How such a claim can be taken seriously by the discerning historian certainly is beyond me especially when physical evidence from the present seems to contradict these historical records. A number of photographs, exhaustively verified as legitimate, exist of Long-Neck and he appears to be a normal human being. In fact, it could quite easily be argued that his neck is stout and not altogether long at all. Certainly, legends of success on the battlefield can easily enter the realm of myth, but to attribute such an advantage to an outlandishly-long neck seems foolish.

This historian, for one, has reached the only logical conclusion: prior to the Civil War, human beings did not possess necks. Radical though this thesis may seem, there is evidence aplenty that, in fact, human beings were little more than gelatinous blobs with faces and genitalia. It was gene splicing and genetic experimentation which gave man and woman their appendaged-appearance we so enjoy today in Playboy and Barely Beefcake (Now With Genitals Exposed!).

Recent scholarship has unearthed evidence of other early products of genetic experimentation: Appendage Bryson (inventor of the glove), Locomotor Epson (founder of Oberlin College) and Anus Johanssen (a vagrant who lived on the streets of Cambridge, Massachusetts) all seem to indicate that a concerted effort by parties unknown took place which transformed humanity from a group of giant amoebas to virile, nubile and sexy humanoids sometime shortly before the Civil War.

Also coinciding with this physical revolution was the advent of photography. At the time of the Civil War, photographs were coming into fashion. However, no one dared take a picture of the slowly-dwindling Blorbon (as they were called) population. Art from the past few centuries, you may ask? Highly idealized. There is evidence (which I shall not cite here for fear of insulting your fragile ego, dear anonymous Everyday Yeah reader) which suggests that art through time immemorial has been subconsciously stylized and idealized. This is quite interesting, if you think about it. While the current human form of two arms, two legs, a neck and separate face might be quite pleasing to the eye, it is by no means the most useful chassis for the great computer that is the human brain. To wit: how much more work could you get done on a given day if you had more arms, more eyes, more ears, and most importantly: a lot more genitals?

I shall leave you, dear anonymous Everyday Yeah reader (whom I will call Gus), with the following thought: all the great figures from human history were giant blobs. Jesus’ limp body-sack of skin and organs was stretched tight across a wooden cross. Julius Caesar commanded legions of stoic Roman blobs in his conquest of BlorbonBarbarianEurope.org. Confucius was a philosopher blob.

A lot to think about. Eh, Gus?