Why I love pro.act.ly
The fact is, a lot has changed since I last ran for President in 1864. Nearly every facet of life has been molded and shaped by the internet, but the one thing that isn't quite democratized is our great democracy itself.
That is, until pro.act.ly.
Our political process has been corrupted by the good ol' boy network with obscene amounts of money, but now, even a random school teacher in Illinois can run for office without having to sell out. Pro.act.ly destroys the old balance of power by tipping it from being in favor of a few to being in favor of whoever has the guts to inspire volunteers and get involved.
Your participation, from volunteering to suggesting an idea, will spread like wildfire across this sophisticated yet simple to use campaign site, onwards towards social networks like Facebook and Twitter. The voters themselves decide which ideas are the best and bring them to the forefront. Those who donate small monthly amounts own a share of my campaign. You tell me what to do, not the other way around.
The internet has finally brought democracy unto itself. This is why I love pro.act.ly.
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The truth about my death
There has been a considerable amount of conspiracy theories and debate surrounding my death. I believe the time has come to finally set the record straight.
Clara Harris, Henry Rathbone, my lovely wife Mary Todd Lincoln and I attended the play "Our American Cousin" at Ford's Theatre on April 14, 1865. Unfortunately, Presidential security wasn't at the level it is today and one of the actors from the play, John Wilkes Booth, entered my private State Box undetected and shot me in the back of the head. Booth then broke his leg jumping out of my State Box and yelled "Sic Semper Tyrannus" (As always to tyrants). I was taken across the street to Petersen House where I died the next day at 7:22am.
Of course I wasn't the only target. Co-conspirator Lewis Powell attempted to assassinate Secretary of State William Seward, but thankfully was unsuccessful. Another man by the name of David Herold accompanied Powell, but fled before the deed was finished.
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Clara Harris, Henry Rathbone, my lovely wife Mary Todd Lincoln and I attended the play "Our American Cousin" at Ford's Theatre on April 14, 1865. Unfortunately, Presidential security wasn't at the level it is today and one of the actors from the play, John Wilkes Booth, entered my private State Box undetected and shot me in the back of the head. Booth then broke his leg jumping out of my State Box and yelled "Sic Semper Tyrannus" (As always to tyrants). I was taken across the street to Petersen House where I died the next day at 7:22am.
Of course I wasn't the only target. Co-conspirator Lewis Powell attempted to assassinate Secretary of State William Seward, but thankfully was unsuccessful. Another man by the name of David Herold accompanied Powell, but fled before the deed was finished.
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Four score and seven years ago
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
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Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
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I support Abe
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