Commissioned in 1861 and quickly rising to the rank of General, Gerthack
McGillicudy was renowned for his sight on the battlefield and ability to
maneuver units into effective segments. Though it may seem outlandish in these
present times, much of the historical evidence from that era seems to point
towards an exceptionally long neck as the source of his successes. To wit:

Schenectady Picayune-Register: March 5, 1862

Union physicians have recently undertaken a scientific
inquiry to determine the standing of Gen. Gerthack “Long-Neck” McGillicudy’s
neck relative to the necks of all of humanity. Their conclusion: Gen.
McGillicudy indeed possesses the longest neck in the history of mankind.
Rejoice!

How such a claim can be taken seriously by the discerning historian certainly
is beyond me especially when physical evidence from the present seems to
contradict these historical records. A number of photographs, exhaustively
verified as legitimate, exist of Long-Neck and he appears to be a normal human
being. In fact, it could quite easily be argued that his neck is stout and not
altogether long at all. Certainly, legends of success on the battlefield can
easily enter the realm of myth, but to attribute such an advantage to an
outlandishly-long neck seems foolish.

This historian, for one, has reached the only logical conclusion: prior to the
Civil War, human beings did not possess necks. Radical though this thesis may
seem, there is evidence aplenty that, in fact, human beings were little more
than gelatinous blobs with faces and genitalia. It was gene splicing and
genetic experimentation which gave man and woman their appendaged-appearance we
so enjoy today in Playboy and Barely Beefcake (Now With Genitals
Exposed!).

Recent scholarship has unearthed evidence of other early products of genetic
experimentation: Appendage Bryson (inventor of the glove), Locomotor Epson
(founder of Oberlin College) and Anus Johanssen (a vagrant who lived on the
streets of Cambridge, Massachusetts) all seem to indicate that a concerted
effort by parties unknown took place which transformed humanity from a group of
giant amoebas to virile, nubile and sexy humanoids sometime shortly before the
Civil War.

Also coinciding with this physical revolution was the advent of photography. At
the time of the Civil War, photographs were coming into fashion. However, no
one dared take a picture of the slowly-dwindling Blorbon (as they were called)
population. Art from the past few centuries, you may ask? Highly idealized.
There is evidence (which I shall not cite here for fear of insulting your
fragile ego, dear anonymous Everyday Yeah reader) which suggests that art
through time immemorial has been subconsciously stylized and idealized. This is
quite interesting, if you think about it. While the current human form of two
arms, two legs, a neck and separate face might be quite pleasing to the eye, it
is by no means the most useful chassis for the great computer that is the human
brain. To wit: how much more work could you get done on a given day if you had
more arms, more eyes, more ears, and most importantly: a lot more genitals?

I shall leave you, dear anonymous Everyday Yeah reader (whom I will call Gus),
with the following thought: all the great figures from human history were giant
blobs. Jesus’ limp body-sack of skin and organs was stretched tight across a
wooden cross. Julius Caesar commanded legions of stoic Roman blobs in his
conquest of BlorbonBarbarianEurope.org. Confucius was a philosopher blob.

A lot to think about. Eh, Gus?