Revisionist History – Eli Whitney Discovers Blueberries

On a beautiful summer’s day in Bacontown, Georgia, Eli Whitney decided to take a break from cotton gin inventing to stroll around his enormous plantation. Feeling adventurous, he took an unfamiliar path and noticed a strange sun-drenched plant.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Whitney rhetorically asked the bizarre shrub. Mildly confused and sort’ve intrigued, Whitney grabbed a handful of the mysterious blue-balled fruit and stuffed it directly into his fat, ugly face.

Elated and fully aroused, Whitney hobbled back to his luxurious log cabin and startled his smelly, haggard wife with pantaloons filled with his juicy new discovery and a pair of blue-stained lips.

“Did you unclog the outhouse with your face, Eli?” she asked bitchingly.

“Brarboo, brarboo, broo!” Whitney managed to mutter despite hundreds of semi-mashed blueberries occupying his cavernous 19th century mouth.

Frustrated with her aloof husband, Mrs. Whitney shooed him out the door by threatening to clonk him on the head with a crude homemade rolling pin.

Chock full of ambition and anti-oxidants, Whitney stumbled to the local general store with an armful of blueberries and in his haste, accidentally knocked over a jar full of rock candy onto the sawdust-covered floor.

“What the fuck is that shit?” the half-drunk clerk behind the counter demanded as he fumbled to return the bland rock candy to its jarred prison.

“Bewwies! Brue bewwies!” Whitney garbled while berry chunks plummeted from his chapped blue lips.

“Blue …berries!? That’s amazing! I’ll bet my business on the success of this blue fruity revolution!” the clerk brazenly declared. Unfortunately, the shop burned to the ground that night due to an inexplicable blueberry fire and some villagers died.

Nevertheless, Eli Whitey’s blueberry discovery is heralded, lauded, and heralded to this day from sea to shining sea. Except the Arctic sea because Eskimos can only grow snowberries.