These are John's views - I've reconstructed them best as I can. Mine are different, and I am not American.
Cut for politics )

Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Fandom: History.
Word Count: 529
Please comment if you wish.
Appealing from his native sod
In forma pauperis, to God:
"Lay bare thine arm, stretch forth thy rod."
It's Stonewall Jackson's way!

Thou shalt not kill, saith the Lord.

But John does not think this is a high rule set for all times and all places. His later childhood had been war, and he still believes he was right. It is easy to see the world as it is, more difficult to see what it would have been. In the war, so much loss did not mean lives became cheap. They became expensive, invaluable. Killing was a bargain one made in return for life. Good men died. Good women - his mother - died. Death became grief and sacrifice. It became the place of beloved people offering themselves up for their country, not just in battle but in privation for the Confederacy. Killing became sacrifice as well. It became a setting aside of one's honour for a greater cause. It was making oneself less that the world would be better, would be stronger, would know a higher right than the wrong of one's transgression. Lee had given up his home and all his life for the General he became, not for himself but for Virginia and her people. John listened and learned.
cut for length )

Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Fandom: History.
Word Count: 638
Please comment if you wish.
john_h_holliday: (20 and all the world ahead)
( Oct. 16th, 2008 11:31 pm)
When he had been a boy in the large houses, warm air and long cool lawns of his childhood; when he had looked up to the ladies in their wide silken skirts and the gentlemen in their fine flared coats and high boots, John had learned the art and language of innuendo. It had never been lying, but a code of honesty, a way of speaking what one may not say aloud. There was a complex code of honourifics, orders of precedence, seating arrangements, the position of one's hat, the details of one's dress, the deepness of one's bow, an elaborate phrase accompanied by a raised brow. John watched, John listened and John learned. Small subtleties could be angry or witty, could be a slap in the face or a punch to the jaw. These could insult someone, cut them to ribbons. Done in the presence of others, these could ruin a reputation. They were spoken of, mimicked, sometimes in whispers with sly smiles, sometimes for years. Outright expressions were so extreme they would call down a duel. An observer would have seen the smooth veneer, the elegant and graceful movements, but underneath would be the expressions of sordid truth. It had been a scandal when one of the otherwise respectable townswomen, widowed early in the war, had begun to wear clothes of blue and green after only two years! One could call a woman a whore by simply addressing her as "Mrs. ___" rather than Miss or Ma'am, if she were unmarried. One could indicate one's doubt of a man's character by habitually omitting a respectful address of 'sir.' One could grant a child favour or prominence by insisting he be addressed as Master Hidalgo rather than Francisco. One could renounce a family and spurn the memory of a good wife if, after her tragic passing, one immediately marries a girl one has been courting during your wife's infirmity. By the same token one could ridicule a man by addressing him by a title he had dishonoured by his conduct. Taking up an alien profession to one's father, abandoning his church for a rival religion, and refusing to address his wife at all were actions loud as a trumpet blasts. Loudest of all were absence, and silence.

Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Fandom: History.
Word Count: 377
Please comment HERE.


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