Reynard

LFC-The 51st State....YNWA...

Reynard and me would argue all the time in this little Indian restaurant they had in San Francisco. 

There was a picture of Bill Clinton on the wall. 

There's no difference between Fate and Free Will. 

Here I am; put here, come here. 

No difference. Same thing. 

Nothing ends that isn't something else starting. 

So which side are you on? Do you know yet? 

Anyhow. I've said my bit and it's your go now... so while you're thinking about it, think about this... my mate Elfayed told me something when I was little and wanking about twenty times a day: 

"We made gods and jailers because we felt small and alone," 

he said. 

"We let them try us and judge us and, like lambs to the slaughter, we allowed ourselves to be... 

sentenced. 

See! Now! Our sentence is up."

" Welcome, Fool. 

You have come of your own Free Will to the appointed place. 

The Game is over. The Game of The Hunted leading The Hunter. "

In Ken Burns's documentary The Civil War, Shelby Foote notes that historians are not quite sure how The Rebel Yell sounded, being described as 

"a foxhunt yip mixed up with sort of a banshee squall". 

He recounts the story of an old Confederate veteran invited to speak before a ladies' society dinner. 

They asked him for a demonstration of the rebel yell, but he refused on the grounds that it could only be done "at a run", and couldn't be done anyway with "a mouth full of false teeth and a stomach full of food". 

Anecdotes from former Union Soldiers described the yell with reference to "a peculiar corkscrew sensation that went up your spine when you heard it" along with the comment that "if you claim you heard it and weren't scared that means you never heard it". 

In the final episode, a sound newsreel of a 1930s meeting of Civil War veterans has a Confederate veteran giving a Rebel yell for the occasion, sounding as a "wa-woo-woohoo".

In his autobiography My Own Story, Bernard Baruch recalls how his father, a former surgeon in the Confederate army, would at the sound of the song "Dixie" jump up and give the rebel yell, no matter where he was: 

"As soon as the tune started Mother knew what was coming and so did we boys. 

Mother would catch him by the coattails and plead, 'Shush, Doctor, shush'. 

But it never did any good. I have seen Father, ordinarily a model of reserve and dignity, leap up in the Metropolitan Opera House and let loose that piercing yell."

The Confederate yell was intended to help control fear. As one soldier explained: 

"I always said if I ever went into a charge, I wouldn't holler! 

But the very first time I fired off my gun I hollered as loud as I could and I hollered every breath till we stopped." 

Jubal Early once told some troops who hesitated to charge because they were out of ammunition: 

Damn it, holler them across.

— Historian Grady McWhiney (1965)