Jan 3, 2022
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R.I.P. Ford.
Stan still gets the bigger tombstone.
tfw he bites you and you start tripping balls.
I can’t believe Ford got murdered at Momocon.
(Link to Twitter post.)
The Texas Quote of the Day, written in 1885, offers tactical advice on how to fight Comanches. Any mistakes in the transcription are mine, of course:
"In the event of being pursued, immediately after the preparation of depredations; the Comanches move day and night, very often not breaking gallop except to exchange horses (which they do several times) and water the caballada, until they deem themselves safe. Under these circumstances they will travel at least 70 miles a day, which is a long distance with the encumbrance of loose animals.
A party of warriors dressed in their trappings - embellished shields, fancy moccasins, long pig tails bedecked with silver, shoulder belts worked with beads and adorned with shells, fine leggings, ornamented cases for bows and arrows - mounted upon spirited horses, singing a war song, and sweeping over a prairie is a beautiful spectacle to a man with plenty of brave fellows to back him.
Their motions are easy and graceful. They sit a horse admirably, and manage one with a master hand. Charge them and they will retreat from you with double your numbers. But beware when pursuing them; keep your men together, well in hand, with at least half their arms loaded, else you will find when it is too late, the flying Comanches will turn on you and charge you to the very teeth.
A Comanche can draw a bow when on horseback, standing or running, with remarkable strength and accuracy. They have been known to kill horses running at full speed over one hundred yards away.
In the commencement of a fight, the yell of defiance is borne to you loud, long, and startling. The war whoop has no romance in it. It thrills even a stout heart with an indescribable sensation. The excitement of battle is quite as evident among these people as among others. Let the tide turn against them, send lead messengers through some of their warriors, and then the mournful wail is heard; its lubricous notes are borne back to you with uncouth cadence, betokening sorrow, anger, and a determination to revenge.
Never ride upon a bowman's left; if you do, ten to one he will pop an arrow through you. When mounted, an Indian cannot use his bow against an object behind and to his right.
The dead are usually borne from the field. Nothing but the most imminent danger prevents them from performing the incumbent duty of not leaving the body of a comrade in the hands of an enemy. Over a fallen chief they will make a desperate stand. Their caution seems merged in the determination to risk everything to bear him from the field. To attain this object they will fight furiously, bravely, and often.
If they abandon him, it is usually in despair. Flight is no longer methodical and menacing to the pursuer. Retreat degenerates into route. After this they have seldom if ever been known to resume the offensive. They will hide themselves in the first chaparral affording security against discovery, remain during the day, and visit the dead at night, and if not able to remove them will spread blankets or some covering over them.
The bow is placed horizontally in shooting; a number of arrows are held in the left hand; the bow operates as a rest for the arrows. The distance - the the curve the missile has to describe in reaching the object - is determined by the eye without taking aim. At the distance of 60 yards and over, arrows can be dodged, if but one Indian shoots at you at a time. Under forty yards the six-shooter has little advantage over the bow.
At long distances the angle of elevation is considerable. It requires a quick eye to see the arrow and judge the whereabouts of its descent, a good dodger to move out of the way, and a good rider to keep in the saddle. A man is required to keep both eyes engaged in an Indian fight."
---- John Salmon "Rip" Ford, shown in the photo below, gives tactical advice for fighting Indians in "Rip Ford's Texas," 1885
@Traces of Texas
🍺
Send 🍺 to encounter my muse when they are really, REALLY drunk.
"Ford you know what I'm gonna do. You know what I'm gonna do?!"
"I'm gonna call that bitch."
"I'm gonna call her and tell her I'm gonna BEAT HER ASS. I'm gonna grab her by her LITTLE NECK."
'Her' meaning the customer service woman who told her that she could not order her favorite shampoo in bulk if she was not a business.
trigger warning: car wreck mention
got in my first car accident this evening coming home from work but dw im okay and so is everyone involved. we both have insurance but our cars are ruined. basically it was the other driver's fault for she was turning left against traffic, exiting from a parking lot and didn't see me in my lane due to heavy traffic and bc dhe pulled out, i didnt slam my breaks in time, thus t boning her van.
“Watch this!” Ford does a kickflip on his skateboard and sticks the landing perfectly. “Ta da!”
send me ‘SHOW ME’ for my muse to teach yours a trick, or send ‘WATCH THIS’ for yours to teach mine!
"...Sorry, what was that?"
She looked up from her cell phone. "Er, do it one more time. I wasn't paying attention!"