Don't worry 'cause Andy ain't a drunkard
Chapter 1 Andy’s President? Knock!!! Andrew Johnson’s peaceful slumber would have to end soon. Preferably before Father Abraham’s violent slumber ends, as somebody must be ready at the helm of our ship of state when it does. Mind you, Seward might have a steadier hand, but what’s the use? Seward’s deader than our dying President. Even if he survives, he’s two places below Johnson in the line of succession. “Governor Johnson, I have to speak with you!” That must have done the trick; one could hear quick movement from the other side of the door.
Franklin, Harry, Henry and Roald:
July 19th, 1944 Happy Days are Here Again shouts through the radio in the lab at Los Alamos. General Leslie Grove yawns, and Robert Oppenheimer lights a pipe. He ponders if he’ll become death, the destroyer of Worlds. The Skies Above Are Clear Again pipes through the radio aboard the U.S.S. Appalachian, as Marines wait about to invade Guam. As the Marines play cards, sip coca cola and listen to a radio broadcast from Chicago, the sailors are manning the guns, bombarding the island to prepare the Japanese for American invasion and liberation. Bam. All your cares and troubles are gone. Boom. There’ll be no more from now on… Bang.
Silent Screams or Ghastly Dreams in the Vacuum of Space:
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of Space, or so they say. Now I’m learning what they don’t say – that even in the middle of this muting vacuum, you can still see a scream. Particularly a scream of mortal terror. And even if you can’t hear a scream out here, if you know the silent shouter well enough you might even be able to feel their scream. If you are, your own sense of empathetic fright may convulse the knot in your stomach; more sharply by virtue of the fact that you cannot hear the scream that you are witnessing. You can see your comrade, your helmet-less friend hurtling past fiery suns and the ghosts of stars, releasing his last burst of oxygen in an eerily quiet scream. Painful though Donovan’s death clearly was, and robbed though it was of the glory of recognition that accrues to most final orations, one thing can be said for the way Donovan O’Malley left our galaxy. O’Malley did not go gently into that good night.