Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Monday, 25 August 2014
Donald Trump is misunderstood
I had two small bottles of healthy ale last night, then went to bed at 8.30 to listen to the radio. Sunday radio is unremitting crap as soon as The Archers has finished, so I fell asleep at 9.00. I slept for 13 unbroken hours.
I can't say I feel any better for it, but at least I do not have the debilitating hangover of yesterday. I eschewed your unanimous advice about hairs of dogs, and I am glad I did - well, all but for two very small hairs: the sort used as a substitute for clean water by medieval Suffolk monks.
You taught me something yesterday - that all Caryatids are female. I then - when checking up to see if you were lying - discovered that they all represented dancers who performed with baskets of live reeds on their heads, to celebrate the nut trees of the village of Karyai.
They were not down-trodden slaves condemned to hold up heavy temples for eternity because of some female wrong-doing as perceived by despicable men. They were carved in stone to celebrate real women, semi-deified to honour the nuts of the village. They must have been bloody good nuts, is all I can think of.
There are certain carvings of men - sometimes goat-like men - which were often used to hold up masonry when not simply free-standing as sorts of wayside markers or whatever, but since they turned into formal masonry from the shoulders down, they were called 'Terms', as in 'terminate'.
Then there are the hoards of conquered fighters turned slaves which you find at the base of triumphal pillars, usually with the victor's feet on their heads. This is how I felt yesterday morning.
The more muscular of these slaves were also often employed to hold up very large bits of masonry, and were frozen in the supreme effort of doing so for eternity. The city of Ljubljana in Slovenia has many 19th century doorways held up by these poor men, so the tradition has carried on for a long time.
Pax Romana in the form of subordination was one symbol, and in the 18th century, we had carvings of Africans holding up serving-trays, which is obviously a much less arduous duty, though maybe just as humiliating.
If ever I win the Lottery, I will design myself a mansion which has - as a doorway - two massively-built and muscular lesbians supporting the ornate pediment above, and this will be a form of celebration which will be in no way disrespectful to women.
It may take some explaining, but I will have teams of people to do that for me - most of them female.