Struthius in the City

From the Book of Struthius.
Struthius in the wilderness of Brum. Ch.1 V.1

And it came to pass that on the sixth day the Mem spake unto Struthius saying,

“Behold the season of Joy and Tinsel approaches, therefore, let us to the city and the highways and byways of the bazaars and souks, wherein, dwell the purveyors of jolly festive junk that we may buy merry presents for friends and family.”

And Struthius upon hearing these words fell into a deep anguish and called upon the God of copulation and misfortune crying,

“Oh Fuck please not Christmas shopping again!”

But Fuck heard him not and so with a heavy heart did he go forth with the Mem upon whom lay heavy the Spirit of commerce.

And in the hours that passed did Struthius spend many years gathering unto him much festive junk so that he became laden as an ass and hung like a donkey. And the time drew nigh when the Mem wearied of her time in the city and said,

“We are grown weary of our labours and it is time to leave the highways and byways of commerce let us therefore repair to our own land and sweet refreshment.”

Upon hearing these words did Struthius, now grown old and round shouldered beneath his burden, offer thanks to the God saying,

“Thank Fuck for small mercies!”

But Fuck again cocked a deaf one to the trials of his servant and in the fullness of time the Mem and Struthius fell amongst the distributers of good news and religious tracts.

Now a certain man, a shitite of malodorous presence and upon whom shone the light of the happy simpleton, accosted the Mem and Struthius saying,

“Friends do you believe in eternity?”

And Struthius, now fallen prey to foul mood, walked past the simpleton saying to the Mem,

“Ignore the prat for he will delay our journey and my knuckles are grazed by the sidewalks as my arms are greatly extended.”

But the Mem took pity on the poor simpleton and urged Struthius to respond. And Struthius wearied by his labours replied thus,

“Verily I say unto you I have been joined with this woman for more than forty years and if that does not constitute an eternity then I know not what does.”

The righteous simpleton was, upon hearing these words, disconcerted and addressed the Mem thus, saying,

“Are you not offended by the words of your spouse?”

The Mem, upon considering this question, fell silent as befits one who wishes not to further inflame a fraught situation.

Then the malodorous simpleton turn back to Struthius and asked,

“Do you believe in your soul.”

And Struthius now thoroughly pissed responded thus, saying,

“Good simpleton, to which do you refer, Arse or Immortal?”

Upon hearing these words the righteous simpleton fell into a state of great discombnaculation and raising his hand heavenward declared that to mock ones soul was to condemn Struthius to an eternity in hell.

Upon hearing the warning Struthius responded thus, asking,

“Shall I save my soul so that I might spend eternity with likes of you for I say unto you that I would rather spend eternity walking the highways and byways of this commercial centre with my scrotum and its contents removed with a hacksaw and the sharp end of a pineapple inserted in my rectum!”

Then the Mem fell upon the hapless Struthius and belaboured him with harsh words and demanded that Struthius look kindly on the righteous simpleton and offer up words of apology.
But Struthius, now driven to near distraction by his year in the wilderness of Brum, heeded not the discomfiture of the Mem nor the confusion of the righteous fool and proceeded upon his journey

And in the fullness of time did a great silence fall upon the house of Struthius.

For it is written that there is a calm before the storm!

Sunt sua cuique vitia !

It has often been said of Struthius that he has achieved failure without the need to exert effort. For some it is necessary to strive but for others (including Struthius) it is as natural as breathing.

I have pointed out to my detractors on many occasions that were it not for failure then there would be no point in success and that were it not for failure then life would be the poorer.

The author Mr. Stephen Pile was able to see that failure can be, and often is, heroic; a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly concur.

Since my early youth I have held in high esteem 3 persons who have achieved singular failure and I make no apology for bringing these wonderful people to the attention of my readers, (if I have any).

William Topaz McGonagall 1825 -1902 aspiring poet and actor

If ever a man can be said to be completely unaware it was McGonagall; indeed, his degree of self-belief borders on genius. His magnum opus is generally agreed to be his poem based on the Tay Bridge disaster of 1879
which starts,

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath of 1879
Which will be remember’d for a very long time

The poem contains the memorable couplet,

And the Cry rang out all around the town
Good heavens! The Tay Bridge has blown down.

As an actor he also achieved fame as the worst Macbeth ever. In a theatre in Dundee during a performance of the tragedy he, fearing that the actor playing Macduff was intent on upstaging him, refused to die when stabbed by Macduff and kept the scene going for so long that the management finally had to bring down the curtain much to the delight of the audience.
In 1892, following the death of Alfred Lord Tennyson he walked from Dundee to Balmoral in atrocious weather (60) miles to personally ask Queen Victoria for the appointment of Poet laureate.

He was turned away and had to walk back home.

Florence Foster Jenkins 1868 – 1944 aspiring soprano

American born Miss Foster Jenkins was to music what Hitler was to Mother Theresa. Heiress, born of a wealthy family she was so obsessed by self-belief that she failed entirely to acknowledge (or understand) the rules of musical notation. Her dreadful performances were only matched by her flamboyance. Often appearing on stage with a rose in the teeth, (which did nothing to improve her voice) or carrying a basket of roses which she would hurl into the audience (sometimes with the basket) she presented an awe inspiring spectacle of inappropriateness.

Her voice, once described by a music critic as the “sound of a distressed cockerel” together with her refusal or inability to stay in one key (occasionally the key intended by the composer) and, therefore, only rarely coinciding with that being played by her accompaniment made her a favourite amongst audiences. On her farewell performance at the Carnegie Hall in October 1944 she disappointed her audience by starting with 3 correct notes but was soon back on form by abandoning stave, pitch and key and ending her concert so far from the orchestra (musically speaking) that she received a standing ovation!

Pedro Carolino 19c aspiring phrase book writer

My personal hero! In 1883 he compiled an English-Portugese phrasebook despite having no knowledge of English. He had a slight understanding of French so circumvented his linguistic shortcomings by translating Portuguese first into French by means of a Portuguese-French dictionary then from French into English via a French dictionary. The results border yet again on genius.

English as she is spoke

The first part contains familiar phrases for use by the Portuguese traveller to England e.g.

I have mind to vomit
He go to four feet
That pond it seems me multiplied of fishes
Dress your hairs
Undress you to
Exculpate me by your brother’s
She make the prude
He has tost his all good

He then moves on to useful dialogues? E.g.

For to ride a horse: “Here is a horse who have bad looks. Give me another. I will not that. He not sall know to march, he is pursy he is foundered. Don’t you are ashamed to give me jade as like? He is undshoed, he is with nails up.

Under anecdotes he gives us one guaranteed to enthral any listener.

“One eyed was laied against a man which had good eyes that he saw better than him. The party was accepted. I had gain, over said the one eyed; why I se you two eyes and you not look me who one.”

Under proverbs and idioms we have,

Nothing some money, nothing of Swiss.
He eat to coaches.
A take is better than two you shall have.
The stone that roll not heap up not foam.

Pedro leaves us with this gem

“To craunch a marmoset”

If you are still with me, thanks. Isn’t failure wonderful?

Sincerely,

Artemus Pratt