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4/24/12
4/11/12
Münchhausen by Proxy
“Well, Hieronymous my friend, we’ve certainly earned the right to do something with our time,” said Gottfried, “what shall we do? Maybe some traveling?”
Hieronymous slowly sipped from his mug and with a twinkle in his eye turned to his old comrade and said rather blandly, “I should think I’d like to return to Ceylon… yes, I think I’d like that, to see how my old friend Max is doing… he was the Governor’s brother, you know.”
Gottfried, astonished at his friend’s casual remark, shouted, “When on earth did you visit Ceylon?”
“Gottfried,” replied Hieronymous, “have I never told you of the time I was attacked by the lion there, only to be saved from death by a 40’ crocodile? Well then! So there I was…”
When Baron Hieronymous Münchhausen died on February 22, 1797, it was the end of a teller of tall tales, but not of a liar. The Baron in his lifetime was actually deeply hurt by the unauthorized publication of his stories, meant merely for amusement, as his name became synonymous with “Liar.” His actual tales of heroism and intrigue today garner little attention. It’s the lies we crave, for they tell us what we want to hear, even when we know we are being lied to.
Mark Twain remarked that a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes. Fortunately, most of the better liars have been harmless, or at least harmless to most of their betters. But in this age of rapid communication and headline news, today’s pseudo-Münchhausens have become more than harmless storytellers, they have become our elected leaders. Lies, lies, lies, and more lies.
4/8/12
4/3/12
3/29/12
John of Gaunt Describes England
A young boy, probably about eight years old, sat on a high stool in a black and cavernous chamber lit by only two wax candles – one in his left hand and the other nearby his father, who was watching him from a sprawled position on the ground. In the boys other hand was a thick book.The father checked his watch and looked up at his son, “… and begin.”
The boy proceeded to read aloud from the book:
“This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle…”
And the boy continued to read from Shakespeare’s Richard II, glancing up at his father every few words.
“You’re slurring, Jack, try to maintain yourself” the father interrupted.
The boy nodded and continued:
“Againsht zhe envy of lesh shappier landsz, this bleshed plot … thish…”
And his voice trailed off. The book fell from his hand and then the candle as he slumped in half and slid down the stool until he was like a puddle on the floor. In less than a minute, though, the boy began to blink his eyes.
The father carefully looked into the boy’s bloodshot eyes and began snapping his fingers.
“Are you here?”
“I think so… how far did I get?” the boy asked.
The father laughed and rubbed his son’s head.
“My boy, you didn’t even finish John of Gaunt’s speech! The next time you have a question about firedamp, we’ll bring one of your Guina Pigs instead, eh?”
The self-experimental work on toxic gases in mines by John Haldane and his son John Haldane led not only to the invention of the gas mask in time for WWI, but to the placing of two canaries in every British coal-mine for seventy-five years until they were officially replaced by reliable gas detectors on December 30, 1986.
3/27/12
3/24/12
The Most Popular Name in the World
It was the first of aylūl (September) in 582, and it had been a devastatingly hot day: the stones paving the Incense Road that led through the Syrian town of Busra burned any flesh that pressed upon it. A lone monk by the name of Bahira watched from just outside a doorway with supernatural interest, his bare feet sizzling beneath him.
A second monk passed behind him, “Another caravan… shall I invite them in?”
“Yes, for a feast! I feel it is not just another caravan, Abouna,” he said and disappeared into the cell.
A few minutes later, he was looking deeply into the eyes of each traveler as he blessed them. After the last man had entered, Bahira asked, “I’ve invited you all, is there no one else?”
The leader of the party answered, “I’m Abu Talib. Only my son is absent, he’s out gathering kindling.”
“Son?” Bahira asked with noticeable disappointment, “I’m afraid the one I’m expecting has no father…”
“Well, truthfully, he is my nephew… his father died before his birth.”
Bahira insisted that the boy be called in for the feast. He met him at the door and before saying a word, placed his hand on the boy’s back between his shoulder-blades. His eyes widened as he felt an oval ridge beneath his fingers and he spun the boy around to face him.
“What is your name, boy?”
“Muhammad…”
“Welcome Muhammad,” the priest said, and turning, whispered to the uncle, “protect your nephew, he wears the seal of a prophet…”
3/22/12
And Roma Makes Three!
Welcome and thanks for "following" to Roma's Rambling. Three new followers in 12 hours, now I have to get another post up soon!
3/21/12
3/1/12
A Star is Born
Rowland was frustrated that initial reports had provided so very little detail, for he pained for the families of the missing men.
When word came at last, the news was very discouraging: “Biggest disaster in the history of American whaling!” Forty ships had passed into the Chuchki Sea in the newly purchased Alaska Territory, when a freak weather event reversed the winds and pushed the ice pack back towards the east and crushed them in.
Louisa came in with a cup of tea and noticed the worried lines around her husband’s eyes. “Millions of dollars in oil lost… thirty three ships trapped… only seven ships escaped…” he read out loud. He continued running his finger down the column reading out the names of the lost.
“Oh, no…”
Louisa spoke up at his sudden silence, “What is it dear?”
Rowland noticed his wife sitting across from him for the first time.
“Emily Morgan,” he announced sadly.
Louisa took her husband’s hand. “Your old ship... I’m sorry my dear, but you made the right choice to quit that business. You’ll always have your little reminder though, won’t you?”
He looked down at the back of his hand and gave a slight smile.
“Providentially though, not a single man was lost.”
Rowland arose, kissed his wife tenderly on the cheek and said goodbye for the day. He arrived a few minutes later at the front door of the dry goods store he’d opened in New York City exactly thirteen years earlier on October 28, 1858. As the door closed behind him, he turned over the sign in the window on which was printed, “R H Macy’s: OPEN for Business.”
Below it was a big red star, matching the faded tattoo on the back of his hand he'd gotten as a New Bedford whale-man.
2/16/12
Defender of the Faith
“Your majesty,” Father Rowland whispered and bowed.
The King simply nodded his recognition.
The priest saw that all things were prepared for the celebration of the Nuptial Mass and just before he was to begin, he turned deferentially back to the King.
“Sire,” he uttered shakily, “since it touches upon us all, I think it important that the license be read before we proceed… and, since excommunication is no slight matter and since your previous, shall we call it, invalid marriage has not yet been publicly annulled, well… I trust you have the Pontifical Brief?”
The witnesses held their breath and the bride to be glanced sideways at her fiancé as if observing the storm about to erupt from a long calm. But the King surprised those present with a cool response.
“Father, it aches my soul that you should give such little credit to my character. I assuredly have the Pope’s signature upon the permission to wed; it’s just that I’ve concealed it in a very secret place. If I were seen wandering the early hours to go and retrieve it, word might spread among the conspirators that something was afoot. This must remain a secret for now... I’ll show it to you later…”
In reality, there was no ecclesiastical permission and King Henry VIII had already given up on obtaining it. His marriage to Anne Boleyn was enacted that day but it wasn’t until five months afterward, May 23, 1533 that his divorce from Catherine, and subsequently the divorce of England from the Church of Rome, was made public.
2/15/12
Valentine's Day Follower
Welcome to Desi the Blonde, thanks for joining! Will try to get out a new tale tomorrow night!
2/8/12
A Thanks! and some changes...
Welcome and a big thanks to JSBTLM for "following" !
Stories usually appear here on the weekends but that's changing and I'll have to figure out how to rework my time to get at least one story published per week on a weekday! Hold fast, I'll be back on a schedule soon!
Stories usually appear here on the weekends but that's changing and I'll have to figure out how to rework my time to get at least one story published per week on a weekday! Hold fast, I'll be back on a schedule soon!
2/1/12
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