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Musings from Moyieboy ...
Thou art a churlish, beef-witted lewdster!
January 10, 2018
By Ken Carpenter

Calm down, take some soothing breaths, and tell yourself “The bugger isn’t really talking to me. It might be better to collect more evidence before I clout the droning varlot."

As you may now be aware, I’m taking advantage of one of the great cussing periods of all time, Elizabethan England. The Elizabethan era was considered the golden age in English history, and Queen Elizabeth’s reign (1558–1603) was its heart.

No mention of that place and time in history is complete without mentioning William Shakespeare, who is thought by many scholars to be the finest writer in history.

Personally I can’t agree, but every opinion in the world was just grabbed out of the air by someone, so the beslubbering beetle-heads are as welcome to theirs as anyone else.

Lumpish, rump-fed, foot-lickers they are, Matey! Man, its fun playing Old English!

I might add that long, witty and naughty insults were loved by the upper-class. They used them on each other and the poor, ever trying to outdo their friends and rivals with more creative, windy and downright cruel slurs.

The poor were not renowned for their knowledge of English or their love of strutting, rich cads. I’m sure they got hopping mad every time they were slandered and didn’t know what it meant.

I still get the Clint Eastwood-glint when I think of the occasional times in Vietnam and Japan when mouthy little packs of craven, mammering hedge-pigs looked at me, laughed and said things I did not understand. So I kind of know how the English peasants felt about the strutting cads.

Shakespeare, oddly enough for one of histories most renowned writers/playwrights, never had a copy of his signature discovered on any document. He died in 1616 at 52, and diligent research turned up very little personal information on him, from any period of his life.

Secretive on steroids, I say.

Some swag-bellied dullards have even proposed that he never wrote anything! Alas and forsooth, neither side has come up with proof. (It is in the pudding, you know.)

I think he did. Anyone who could cuss like that man was real, I tell ya.

Willy, who undoubtedly was never called that in his life, invented thousands of important words for the English language. Estimates range from 1,700 to 8,000, so who knows for sure?

These new words went public for the first time on stage during his beloved plays, and would spread like wildfire around London, and on to the world.

The man was a true genius of the kind or unkind cut. Most of the words I used earlier came from Willy, and you know I hate being vulgar so I won’t allow myself to share any of his smutty material. Tempting, very tempting.

Alligator, household-words, wormhole, epilectic, hot blooded, obscene (Ha! How could he not?), skim milk (They had it?), puking, and eyeball were all common terms invented by Willy.

So, of all the talk highlighting his talent of turning filth and rancor into No. 1 stage plays, Willy was just a practical guy when it came down to it.

“Fie!” is used as a general exclamation of disgust, Shakespearian of course. Here’s an example of its use.

“Fie, fie! Unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes.”

Back at you Willy, three times! For thou art a yammering, scrotum-brained popinjay, and I am alive and you are not.

I hope Willy doesn’t have a ghost. I have no interest in becoming a mewling, tickle-brained, whey-face with a bearded ghost riding on his back. I know, it would just be Willy being Willy, but I prefer my first glimpse of a ghost to be of one not holding a grudge.

So keep your clever wit in eternity, if you will, Willy. You know you’ll still be popular 1,000 years from now. Thanks for the inspiration you have given us all. A bit warped, maybe, but I like warped.
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