REGARDING MY BLESSING TO POSTERITY REGARDING MY UNCERTAIN FUTURE!
I OFFER TO THE ACADEMIC SOCIETY A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE COMMON FART!
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If it is my destiny to go down in history as an aging, gaseous expulsion of methane... Let it be known that I prefer the term 'Vetus crepitu', better known colloquially as 'Ye Olden Fart', a title reserved for those with a lifetime of experience studying the 'Art of the Fart', for Fartists such as myself. For the sake of our future posterity, I offer another title reserved for those not yet wise in the way of the 'Ars Crepitu', that out 'Apprentice Flatulators'. Myself, I began my career in the Russian village of Borodino during the Napoleonic Wars as a 'Foedus Filii Pedit, or 'Journeyman Flatulator', and was instrumental in saving my Master, Cryssipus the Foul from the French assault which took place behind the redoubt of earthworks which forced the retreat of the Russian army and the wholesale destruction of Moscow.
I must admit was my idea to set the 7th Cossack Infantry to work in saturating the more volatile structures of the Russian capitol with the first use of widespread chemical warfare with the most unlikely of weapons - an entire brigade of methane excreting Cossack assholes, thus creating the circumstances which led to the destruction of two thirds of Moscow by 'Ignis Crepitu' or Fire Farts, thus depriving Napoleon of his prize, was my own idea. I received 'The Gold Silken Fart Saturated Seat Cushion' for my quick thinking, plus 'The Royal Brocade Of Her Lady Of The Holy Outgassing', which I presented to my lifelong suitor, who was later canonized as 'The Patron Saint Of The Ugly Stick'... and I'm a bachelor still, which was my plan all along! Clever of me, no?
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HERE COMES A DIGRESSION!
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Perhaps I was hasty in my rash insinuation that all Fartists should be relegated merely to the rank of 'Fart Head'. A noble profession, but not applicable to all, as you have made clear. which is the original Latin description for a term which has changed drastically with the evolution of the English language across the eons. The Latin 'Crepitu', first referenced close to a thousand years ago by the Norsemen of Scandinavia in the Old English epic poem 'Beowulf', was a cautionary tale regarding the dangers of the constant boozing and farting around of an enclave of drunken, loudly shouting and farting Norsemen, which caused the 'unprovoked' attack by the 'monster' Grendel upon the kings' hall (as the story goes), prompting the scouring of the Northlands for a hero great enough to slay the beast named Grendel. This hero was, of course, Beowulf - kind of an anti-hero if you ask me. Some literary scholars even go so far as to call Beowulf out as, and I quote -
"Beowulf was an asshole of the highest order, second only possibly to Oedipus. Grendel on the other hand, was a tortured being born of the sins of his father through no fault of his own, and forced nightly to endure the constant partying of, yup - his FATHER, while also enduring the noises and varied stenches emanating from this certain meade hall, which made sleep practically impossible for poor Grendel. Grendel supposedly endured this torture for as long as any creature could be expected to until, sleep deprived and in agony (Grendel had a very sensitive eardrum, of which practically any noise above absolute silence caused him unendurable pain), one night - obviously hallucinating and possibly driven to madness, well - Grendel crashed his dads' party (at least once, possibly twice), uninvited (why was Grendel never invited to his own fathers' celebrations?) and acted on impulse - Grendel started fucking shit up." * (citation needed)
Yes, the argument can be made that Grendel possibly went a little overboard by biting the heads off of scores of drunken revelers and smashing flat a bar maiden or two, but Grendel was specifically forbidden to kill his own father, arguably the Biggest Douche Bag of his entire entourage! So, Grendel expressed some of his frustration by murdering a bunch of drunken idiots who probably needed to be culled from the gene pool anyway, and squashing some hysterical screaming meemies. And what did the king, Grendels' own FATHER do in response? Why, he nailed a want ad to every tree in the Northland Realm, stating this:
"EPIC HERO WANTED BY HIS MAJESTY OF 'THE KINGDOM OF THE MONSTER-FREE MEADE HALL' FOR SLAYING A MONSTER! GRENDEL IS HIS NAME, AND SO FAR HE HAS CRASHED ONE OR TWO OF MY PARTIES! HE ALSO HAS AN IRRITATING PENCHANT FOR BITING THE HEADS OFF OF THE LOUDEST, MOST ABRASIVE OF MY GUESTS AND SQUASHING MY WAITRESSES! KILL THIS THING, AND I'LL THROW IN THE QUEEN AND THE KEYS TO THE KINGDOM!" * (citation needed)
So this asshole of the highest order* (citation needed), this Beowulf character, hears about this want ad from, I dunno, LEAGUES away, and decides to answer it. After Beowulf shows up, of course a great party erupts in order to attract Grendel (what a bunch of assholes!). Well, Grendel shows up AGAIN, pissed off but ready to talk, it can be argued, as Grendel actually does talk this time... not that anyone was listening.
So imagine this. You've never had a single wink of sleep for your entire life! That's your problem. Now, put yourself in Grendels' shoes: wouldn't you just possibly, maybe, bite off somebody's head? Say, the nearest one that was howling? But Beowulf, obviously aware that Grendel can talk (he brags right to Grendels' face right before ripping his arm off), an asshole of the highest order*, (citation needed), sets about pretty much kicking Grendels' ass right from the get-go.
Picture this: here's Beowulf, a frikin HERO (why they made a narcissistic asshole the sole hero of the land is beyond me) who is obviously skilled in hand to hand combat! And how many times has Grendel actually been in a fight again? One, maybe two times? Anyway, Grendel may have size and strength, but he obviously hasn't been trained as a warrior by trade, nevermind as a HERO, and his mental faculties are obviously child-like. He cries, he pleads! As in, Grendel has quite likely not interacted with many other intelligent creatures, save his mother (who, by the way, qualifies as an iron-clad bitch of the highest order) during his short life. In fact, Grendel likely IS just a child!
Sure, Grendel deserves an appropriate punishment, considering that he has likely never been raised by a responsible parent, with the difference between right and wrong instilled in him since birth....
But what Grendel definitely does NOT deserve is to have his arm forcibly ripped - not sliced, RIPPED! Brutally! From his shoulder, which is of course exactly what Beowulf does to the poor creature. Perhaps, just perhaps... before issuing Grendels' death warrant, the king could have nailed a few want ads for an EPIC DIPLOMAT - as perhaps EPIC ASSHOLE, I mean, EPIC HERO, wasn't the best, first choice. If morality had actually played even a minor role in this story, that is.
Now... an EPIC NEGOTIATOR /(counselor?) could have solved this matter over a table, a few tankards of meade, and a guided back-and-forth father and son therapy session! Instead, this is what we get - a fat, drunken sluggard of a 'king', a few soused and rowdy Norsemen, a score or three or four screaming bar maidens, and a completely misunderstood 'monster' - I however prefer the term 'forest creature' or 'spelunker'.
Anyway. If diplomacy HAD been considered as another option, bringing the grand total of options all the way up to TWO, then all of the over the top, competely unnecessary, ultra-violent bloodshed which ensued, resulting in the humiliating death of Grendel - who was highly likely a one-of-a-kind creature, and probably the only example of his species in all of existence - then the chances that Grendel might NOT have suffered a humiliating death at the hands of the Penultimate Asshole, and one which was carried out with EXTREME PREJUDICE! Just might have decreased by up to 50%.
One can only feel sympathy for Grendel once the entire epic poem is taken into context. Like all Gods' creatures, Grendel was cranky - yes, cranky after a bad nights' sleep. And although Grendel did tend to go a little overboard by biting the heads off of many of the drunken howling revelers, and stomping screaming bar maidens flat (in Grendels' defense, all the howling and screaming was causing him excruciating pain), Grendel was still obviously capable of speaking and of being understood... if anyone had just shut the hell up for half a minute. Wouldn't his FATHER, at the very least, have known that Grendel posessed at least a modicum of intelligence? One would think that a king - nevermind a FATHER, but especially a wise king (assuming this king was wise, which is questionable) would have been able to piece together exactly what was happening, and why...
If only a little diplomacy had been pursued!
Instead, Grendel was not only subject to the cruel taunts of Beowulf (I mean, if absolutey any effort had been made by the king to, you know, shutting the hell up and LISTENING; possibly positing a question or two to his own SON instead of resorting immediately to hiring the first musclebound psychopath who answered his want ad, the king might have (it's possible!) sought the council of his advisors and actively elicited more than, you know... just ONE solution to the whole Grendel problem to which monster murder wasn't the only option. This meeting of SOBER minds which 'might have been', may have eventually resulted in a breakthrough of some kind - one which first proposed the dissemination of a much more reasonable ad, such as:
"ANY CHRISTIAN PRIESTS STILL IN THE REGION AND NOT MURDERED YET, THE KING OF THE LOCAL MEADE HALL IMPLORES YOU FOR HELP! IF IT PROVES POSSIBLE TO SUMMON YOUR GOD, THE MAN JESUS, PLEASE! WE REQUIRE YOUR SERVICES FOR THE PURPOSE OF EXORCISING A DEMON! OR AT LEAST CAN YOU USE YOUR EDUCATION TO FIND OUT WHAT'S BOTHERING IT SO WE CAN SOLVE THIS ISSUE LIKE MEN? AND MONSTER?"* (citation needed)
Ok, that was quite a long digression, but i've been meaning to get that off of my chest since high school English class.
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HERE COMES ANOTHER DIGRESSION!
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Going back to Latin, Old English and, of course, later appropriated as a valuable transition term from Middle English to Modern English by Geoffrey Chaucer some four to five hundred years after Old English began to evolve - specifically, from 1387 - 1400 in 'Tales of Canterbury' or, in Modern English, known simply as 'The Canterbury Tales' - this work is known as a pivotal piece of literature of the time, as it was written almost directly on the cusp of the transition from Middle English to Modern English.
As may be known to some, The Canterbury Tales is a series of twenty-four stories which comprise a 'story-telling contest' amongst a group of pilgrims journeying from London to Canterbury. The prize for the best tale is a golden dildo. However, what most scholars are NOT aware of is that there were actually twenty-five stories, with the twenty-fifth story consisting of three words - ferten, feorten, and farten (Middle English words meaning 'fart'). However, although these words were in fact uttered and submitted as the twenty-fifth story, known as 'The Fathers (Farters?) Tale', immediately after uttering these three words, The Father wrapped his four year old son amidst his voluminous robes, thus inflicting the first recorded instance of a 'Dutch Oven' being performed in public.
"The Father' (farter? It's never been clear) was unanimously voted the winner of the contest, and was awarded a cast iron Dutch Oven, much to the Fathers' chagrin. The golden dildo was awarded to 'The Handmaiden' for her tale of woe.
And now you know!
* The vast opinion of the author
