Not much of history is set in stone. Was Columbus the first to land in the Americas? Did George Washington Carver invent jelly, too? Was William Jennings Bryan actually made out of brownie batter? These are the things historians debate. And few subjects are addressed as often and with as much zeal as the question, "Who is our greatest president?"
Many different criteria have been used in attempts to find an answer -- everything from popularity to shoe size to who's on the most one-dollar bills. Unfortunately, all of these systems are as flawed as the feeble history professors who concocted them. I, however, using my vast throbbing fount of mathematical knowledge, have devised the true measure of our nation's leaders: fist fights. In my mind and on this page they will battle me for the glory that subjective analysis has denied them. First off is ...
George Washington:
Initially one would think our first president a worthy foe. After all, he won our independence -- fisticuffs should prove no problem. But keep in mind who he won or independence from: the British. Not to belittle the achievements of our forefathers, but they might have given us our Independence if we asked really politely. I dispatch him in a manner reminiscent of the Battle of Fort Necessity (look it up) and move down the line of succession to ...
Thomas Jefferson:
Like a finely oiled tiger, Jefferson leaps into action. Before he can attack, I start to explain that he can't destroy me because he created me. By founding the University of Virginia, he lit the spark that drives me. In a sense, he's a father to me. My words hit him like a dumbwaiter to the back of the head, and the sage of Monticello bursts into tears. I move to comfort him, but instead take the opportunity to kick him in the stomach. Jefferson lives, for now ...
Abraham Lincoln:
It quickly becomes apparent that the only thing the Great Emancipator can't free is himself, from my unbreakable head lock. A cursory glance would suggest that his face is the only thing in need of reconstruction around here. The puns flow from my mouth as he slowly falls unconscious. Which brings me to ...
Theodore Roosevelt:
As our most bear-like president, Roosevelt presents a unique set of problems. How do you defeat a man who, by all historical accounts, knows no pain? Legend holds that the entire purpose for the Panama Canal was for contraception. As I pondered this, Teddy speaks something softly and comes at me with a large stick. I, however, pull out a larger stick, and let it do my speaking for me. I take a minute to reflect on the fact that I've just beaten Mount Rushmore, and get ready for ...
Woodrow Wilson:
I mistake him for Grover Cleveland and move on to ...
Franklin Roosevelt:
My plan to inject him with polio in his childhood grants me a decisive advantage. Now, if you have no stomach for reading about a man in a wheelchair being beaten, then I suggest that you don't read this sentence, because it's the one where I beat a man in a wheelchair. There, it's over, until I go up against ...
John F. Kennedy:
J.F.K. Blown away. What else do I have to say?
Ronald Reagan:
The Gipper posses an unnatural calm about him. He claims to be protected by some sort of Star Trek defense system, but I pay him no mind. As an actor, every word he spews is nothing but a beautiful lie. I defeat him quickly and painlessly out of respect for his work in the movie "Bedtime for Bonzo" -- one of the all-time great monkey/experimental psychology films.
Exhausted and at the end of my list, I start to think that maybe America just doesn't have a greatest president. But then, out of nowhere jumps ...
George W. Bush:
Assuming he would be included on the list of potential best presidents, W blindsides me with a preemptive attack. I am shocked by this, but also a little bit awed by his tenacity. Our battle rages until midway through, when he inexplicable declares himself the winner. I keep trying to fight, but he brings out a banner and everything. So ends my search for our greatest president, and with just one look at Bush, I can't help but think, "Mission Accomplished."
John McNamee is the Cavalier Daily Graphics editor.
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