You know what’s funny? Three of the seven official founding fathers never fathered anything. Well, anything literal, I mean. They fathered plenty of figurative things. Modern representative democracy, for example. But there were no baby John Jays, no Washington juniors, and most relevant to this story, no Johnny Madisons. Did these men have a HARD time getting it up? Were they secretly gay and not boning their wives/slaves/prostitutes like their contemporaries? Or were they too busy LAYING the foundations of America to do any boning? Frankly, I would love to make up answers for these questions and pass them off as fact. But instead I’ll tell you something true. So hold on to your powdered wig, pull up your colonial trousers, and read the fuck on, bitches cuz imma get all early American scandalous on yo asses.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. James Madison. Wrote the Federalist Papers. Wrote the Bill of Rights. Was President numero quattro (BOOM, that’s Italian). This is important. These things are good enough. He’s a fan-fucking-tastic American and he had a wife named Dolly which is adorable. We’re into it. Case closed. Well guess what, fuckers. James Madison was ALSO a world-class stepdad to a first-class douche-nozzle of a stepson. Put that in your corn cob pipe and smoke it! So even though he didn’t procreate because he was too busy building the impeccable foundation upon which our country was built, he managed to be a stepdad to the most scandalous stepson of early America. Let’s contextualize, shall we?
First, let’s start with the scandal that was the marriage of James Madison and Dolly Todd. Dolly had been married before and widowed. She had two sons, but her youngest son and her husband went all Oregon Trail on everyone’s asses and died of yellow fever. Then Dolly met James in 1794. AND GUESS THE FUCK WHO INTRODUCED THEM. AARON FUCKING BURR IS WHO. That’s right. The asshole of the week. Aaron goddam-killed-Alexander-Hamilton-in-a-duel Burr introduced Dolly and James. I guess he wasn’t good for nothing. (Kind of.) Dolly, a follower of William Penn, was kicked out of the Society of Friends for marrying a non-Quaker, which was kind of BFD then. Because Quakers are fucking nice. It takes a lot to ruffle their feathers, you know? But she did it by promising her cooch to a non-believer. But it turned out to be okay for her, because she made a name for herself in Philadelphia society for being such a fashionista. But she couldn’t have been so fabulous unless she was a non-Quaker, so good for her.
James, like the founding father he was, adopted Dolly’s good-for-nothing son. According to Wikipedia, John Payne Todd was a “habitual shooter.” I find this hilarious because I imagine a teenager with an earring and a stupid Hot Topic T-shirt running around a newly-American Philadelphia with a little pistol who just can’t stop firing his gun at pigeons. (Kind of Madison’s fault due to the whole Right to Bear Arms thing that he sort of wrote down. Just saying.) Anyway, he got arrested a lot and then his stepdad, the fourth goddam president of the United fucking States, had to head down to the ol’ jailhouse and bail him out! Stepdad #1 tried to teach his douche head of a stepson a lesson by sending him on official business to Europe. (Really, Mr. President? Europe is where prostitution and drinking happens. Read any ex-pat book from the 1920s. Jeez.) But SHOCKER, John Payne gets himself into a shit ton of trouble, shooting people and pickling his liver and sleeping with “low women.” After Madison died, he continued to cause his poor, twice-widowed mother financial trouble by getting arrested, boning lots of bitches, gambling, shooting more people, and burying himself under a mountain of debt.
So…maybe my main man, Madison, didn’t make too much of a positive impact on his asshole of a stepson, but there’s really only so much you can do when your stepson is a younger, more colonial version of Charlie Sheen, you know? I think he did a great job considering. And he made a really big impact on America, which is also important, I guess.
On that note, Happy (Step)Father’s Day, James Madison. I’m sorry that your stepson sucked. But if he had been better behaved, you probably wouldn’t have made it into our awesome blog. You win some, you lose some, you know? I’d take what I can get if I were you, all right?
Good afternoon dedicated readers. It’s that time again: theme week! I know, you’re saying to yourself, “But they just did once of those!” Well, if we’re being honest, it’s because theme weeks are the most popular statistically speaking, since they concern scandals and characters that people have actually heard of. I mean, who’s ever heard of Seretse Khama, Bill Lancaster or some dude named Walt Whitman?? Come on, no one’s gonna google search that shit.
But anyway, get ready for some pater familius fun, because in honor of that great, fake holiday, ‘Father’s Day,’ we’re delving deep into the highly scandalous lives of the original Wolf Pack—The Founding Fathers.
Well now you’re saying “Why didn’t they do this for Mother’s Day too? The Founding Mothers were just as important to the creation of this great country!” And to reply, we answer that, we here at for shame! deal in the sort of mild bigotry one might find at a middle-school band concert, in which the predominantly white, suburban kids play some sort of “ethnic” piece, such as dummed-down versions of traditional ‘Persian’ or ‘Oriental’ folk songs. Is it racist? Yes. But are they trying their darndest to be multicultural? Yup, they sure are.
To borrow a phrase from my freshman race and gender theory class, our “recreation and perpetuation of structures of domination” is not meant to harm, merely amuse in a way that assuages your own cultural guilt. We’re here to give you the sexy, sexy dirt on all the greatest hits of your intro to American Gov. class. Jefferson! Franklin! Hancock (too easy)!
Yes, they’re all dead white guys, but it was 18th century America. Use that liberal-arts degree and the inherently inflated sense of self-righteous indignation that came with it and view this snippet of Americana the way we’re meant to watch Mad Men: with the less than whole-hearted sentiment of “Oh yeah, we’ve come a long way since then!” So whip out the following week’s worth of facts dear readers, at parties populated with your ‘less aware’ friends, or preferably at the dinner table over some summer salad, with your beloved and conservative parents. After all, it is to them that we dedicate our following endevours.