[MR] Fw: Daily Life in the Middle Ages, Levity? You be the judge!!

[Alexandria Stratton]

forwarded from another list, with tongue firmly in cheek!
 -- Isabelle LaFar
http://www.HouseBarra.com
Experience is what you get, when things go awry.




----- Forwarded Message ----
To: MedievalEncampments at yahoogroups.com
Subject: Daily Life in the Middle Ages, Levity?  You be the judge!! 

  
Daily Life in the Middle Ages
by
Sir Batshit ap Llewellyn FitzDogroot of Frontbottom
translated from the Forsooth with some difficulty by Greg Lindool*

This article originally appeared in a slightly different form in The National 
Routier.

Now, let's look at a day in the life of a typical person in the Middle Ages. 
Morgana ap Llareggub Organophosphate of the Tinkling Elfin Bells is a 
professional scribe who is also a skilled stonemason and has some knowledge of 
the healing arts. In the Middle Ages there is no nasty scientific method or 
research and so everyone is totally healthy, since they rely on the intuitive 
herb-lore of wandering wise women who are in touch with the Earth Goddess on 
account of their womb-wisdom.

She lives just outside Paris, but was born on the coast of Wales before being 
taken by gypsies to live in Muslim Spain and then northern India where she 
converted to a form of inclusive Buddhist feminist-paganism. Returning via the 
Holy Land, she helped build several cathedrals, before accidentally entering a 
time/space portal and spending several years in the worlds of the novels of 
Marion Zimmer Bradley and Katherine Kurtz. On returning to the Middle Ages, she 
settled in France where she lives on her own in a really cool tower full of 
pretty things

Rising in the morning, Morgana puts on her garb of rayon, lycra, nylon and 
crushed velvet; all in colours such as electric blue and day-glo orange. She 
wears twentieth century shoes, like everyone else in the Middle Ages, because 
medieval shoes are simply too hard to make. Before leaving her chamber, she 
hangs around her neck the many awards, baubles and trinkets she has won from the 
many and various kings and queens over the last few months. Leaving her tower, 
she mounts her winged pegasus and sets off through the green and verdant fields 
which are neat and picturesque thanks to the total lack of dirty peasants.

She passes Baron Sigurd Olafsenn the Dragonsbaneslayerthing and Master Giovanni 
MacGregor teen Yusuf of the Merry Dells who are busy erecting a new castle made 
out of stone-coloured lycra. 'Good morrow, my good lords,' she cries as she 
passes, 'Forsooth, thine castle is passing goodly in mine sight.' she calls in 
badly mangled early seventeenth century English. Despite the fact that Baron 
Sigurd is a tenth century Viking of Rus extraction with an Irish-Baltic 
grandmother and Master Giovanni is a 13th century Italian Scotsman raised by 
Jewish elves, they understand her perfectly, for they too speak early modern 
English, as does everyone else in the Middle Ages. 'We thank ye, good Ladykin 
Wenchthing,' Lord Sigurd replies.  'Oddbodkin, zounds 'sblood codpiece pizzle.' 
Master Giovanni adds with a merry wave.

Lady Morgana continues on her journey to distant California. She has just 
completed a scroll to commemorate the awarding of the Order of Puce Marmoset to 
the Baroness of the Barony of the Fulfilled Middle Management Computer 
Executive, and she had to get it to their bumlick, grovel, grovel, 
oooh-so-impressive Majesties in time for the next court. Though it wouldn't 
really be a problem if she was late, because they'd be holding another one in 
five or ten minutes anyway.

As she flies over the Crown Principality of Lochac, she sees Lady 
Bingobumbuggerbombast von Outrigger the Powertool holding a bardic circle where 
everyone sings nineteenth century ballads which had a period ambience to them. 
Morgana greets Lady Bingobumbuggerbombast with great courtesy, despite the fact 
that she is a fat-arsed, self-aggrandising, back-stabbing bitch who managed to 
get the Order of the Duck-egg Blue Aardvark simply by sucking up to the Queen of 
the West. But she is very courteous because this is the Middle Ages and everyone 
is very, very, very nice. At least to each other's faces.

On arriving at the court of the King and Queen, she looks upon the assembled 
throng with great satisfaction. Here are fifteenth century French gentry rubbing 
shoulders with ninth century African samurai. Two fourteenth century nobles 
smoking long hobbit pipes discuss Star Trek with an elf from Lothlorien. She 
waves to Sir Boondoggle the Vole Strangler, a great scholar who is writing an 
important history of medieval gay American Indians at the Court of King Phillip 
Augustus. Nearby sits Sir Beowulf of the Extremely Short Name, a famous gentle 
who had recently won all the awards in the Known World by constructing an entire 
alternative universe out of lycra, nylon and duct tape. He is discussing court 
intrigues with King Arthur, Gandalf and Jabba the Hut from The Return of the 
Jedi.

Lady Morgana takes her place with the others with a courteous smile of 
satisfaction. The plastic banners on the walls gleam, the shiny behemothic 
armour of the noble knights glitters, the nylon of the ladies' dresses shimmers 
as they heave their vast bulk through the hall. It is all so nice, all so 
chivalric, all so shiny and so clean. It is the Current Middle Ages (TM)!

* "Greg Lindool" is the wholly fictitious pseudonym of this writer. No 
similarities with anyone having the same or a similar name are intended or are 
to be implied.


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