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Musings from Moyieboy ... |
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Thou art a churlish, beef-witted
lewdster! |
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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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