Things had been going well in the colonies for a couple hundred years. Rugged entrepreneurs who needed nothing but raw determination and the shirts on their backs were able, through grit and thrift, to turn the massive amounts of land and exclusive trade contracts they had been granted by the King into considerable fortunes. Of course they used those fortunes to serve the Lord. Every year they brought over talented gospel singers from Africa and gave them room and board all in return for hearing the carols of Jesus sung out in harmony. Those gospel choirs loved their accommodations so much that when they weren’t singing you could find them out frolicking in the fields from sunup to sundown. And they wouldn’t accept a dime in compensation!
Meanwhile, in the north, we were making friends with the—well, they liked to call themselves “savages” a word coined by Chief Descended From Apes. They were great people, who also had a real love for our Christian God. They even believed in Jesus, although they called him Maize.
In England, though, things weren’t going so well. A bunch of leftist radicals starting spouting off about “natural rights” which of course was a code word for acting like animals. Where did they get their rights? Ready for this? They didn’t get them anywhere; they just had them—built right in. Did they get their rights from God? No! They got them from nature! They were a bunch of tree-hugging, Satan worshipping druids, and it wasn’t long before they came over to the colonies and infecting our hard working indentured servants with their Socialist filth.
Back in England, the nature boys preached their doom and gloom until they got control of the British government. Once that happened, up went the taxes. Taxes on tobacco. Taxes on Spices. Taxes on everything they could think of. It wasn’t so much the taxes, it was the taxation without representation. The hardworking man in the street did not think it was fair to not have a say in how his money was spent unless it was spent by the rich agents of the king who had always taken his money. Tradition meant something back then! The issue came to a head when they taxed our tea! One night a group of freedom loving activists, snuck onto a British ship and threw all of the tea over board! “What a great protest!” They said. But no one could come up with a name. “How about ‘The Night They Threw Stuff?’” said one. “How about ‘Don’t tread on our boats with yer’ taxy tea crates?’” said another. Just then the press agent for one of the biggest private bankers in Boston happened by and declared that it would be called “The Boston Teaparty!” Everyone loved that name, and it stuck until this day.
Thanks to the success of the Teaparty Movement, the colonies were ready to throw off the shackles of the left wing Sherwood Shirleys who had overrun the once great government of England. They decided that they would declare their independence in an historic document. So a few days later, the best God fearing conservative minds in the colonies got together worked all day and night Saturday, and wrote what they called The Declaration of Independence.
“What a great document! Let’s reprint it for distribution as fast as we can!’
“But wait! It’s Sunday morning! The Sabbath! We cannot work today. Who can we get to copy the document?”
“What about Jefferson?”
“Thom Jefferson, the atheist. He won’t be busy today.”
“But Jefferson is an illiterate halfwit!”
“It’s all written. All he has to do is copy it over. Even Jefferson couldn’t screw that up.”
“All right then. Let Jefferson do it. But watch him or he will try to hog all of the credit for himself.”
“Nah! Nobody would fall for that!”
And with a round of hearty Huzzah! Liberty was declared!