But blood is...splashy .

Could you post the image, please?

There was a post that said the image was blown up and the stirrup had been tied in place. I'd like to see that image.

Not a drop. Red liquid goes all the way down right (off) front leg, down the hoof and...stops. Not a drop on the pavement or a trail of drops behind the horse.
As if this was applied while the horse was standing still on a flat surface.

Those horses were not lame.

They are not "freaked out" either. Look at how collected they are. They are going for a gentle canter and being herded by a moped.

But the blood would have ran in a streaming pattern back over the shoulders.

But throwing your rider and flipping one of the stirrups over the pommel is quite the trick.

First, but not last is it?

1924 Democratic National Convention is also known as the Klan Bake. Just sayin'

Nobody can argue against their DNA inside every cell of their body. They're stuck with it. For life.>

Even further. Archeologists can identify male and female skeletons but have yet to find any other genders. Odd.

Possible. I think they would be freaking out a LOT if it was pigs blood or something. Prey animals are not big on blood.
The horses are moving, but don't look panicky.

I think it is paint of some kind. It isn't streaming back on the horse and there is no sign of injury; something that would be there for that much blood. I'm no vet tech; does anybody else want to chime it?

Not Art Deco.

God

Biological urge to procreate. Common.

Vatican for $400, winn.

it’s not rocket science

But it is science.

--Bakers

Grateful for the victory AND the croissants.

FYI the woman was Nancy Astor.

so sorry.

That Mr. Henry. He can turn a phrase.

While I appreciate the sentiment and force of your argument it is not the lyric. This will help:

“Battle Hymn of the Republic”

Originally a camp-meeting hymn "Oh brothers, will you meet us on Canaan's happy shore?" it evolved into John Brown's Body. Then in 1861 Julia Ward Howe wife of a government official, wrote a poem for Atlantic Monthly for five dollars. The magazine called it, Battle Hymn of the Republic. The music may be by William Steffe

Mine eyes have seen the glory Of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage Where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning Of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on.

Chorus Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watchfires Of a hundred circling camps They have builded Him an altar In the evening dews and damps; I can read His righteous sentence By the dim and flaring lamps; His day is marching on.

Chorus Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet That shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men Before His judgement seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him; Be jubilant, my feet; Our God is marching on.

Chorus Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom That transfigures you and me; As He died to make men holy, Let us die to make men free; While God is marching on.

Chorus Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

Shoes on backwards? Maybe. Feet on backwards is another matter.

"His truth is marching on" Just sayin'

Patton saved the Lippizans.

Once more, for those in the back: it is NOT a democracy, it is a REPUBLIC.