An Historical Diversion

My Dear Princess & Dear Fellows,

I have nothing much of interest for you today. It was a pretty quiet day at work other than Smock ANNOYING THE EFF OUT OF ME.

But that is not worth talking about. Deep breath.

To distract myself, I am watching lots of films. Caro is away in Tauranga for a few days, so I have the telly to myself. Right now I am watching "Fantastic Voyage" in which Raquel Welch gets attacked by white corpuscles. And in the film, someone mentioned the word "fistula".

"I know a history story about that word," thinks I, so here it is. EMP, pay close attention. If you put this story in a history essay you will doubtless get a gold star and a bit of a reputation.

So it seems that the Sun King, Louis XIV of France had an anal fistula. If you don't know what this is; it's like an ulcer in a very painful sit-upon place. I believe pooing is like being rimmed by a piranha fish. It is not good, is what I am saying.

This was a big deal because Louis XIV was like a god to the French. His reign was glorious and extravagant and so all of his courtiers were extremely obsequious and servile. The story goes that one day he asked someone what time it was and got the reply, "What time would you LIKE it to be, your Majesty?"

So anal fistulas became all the rage. His courtiers would walk crab-like and wince when they sat down to affect the symptoms of the King's Ailment. But Louis himself just wanted it to be over. His doctors prescribed surgery and soon he was under the knife.

The French royal composer, Lully, wrote a tune to celebrate the occasion. The lyrics were something along the lines of, bless our king and hope for his recovery from his sore bum, or something like that.

Now flash-forward a few decades. The Jacobeans, led by Bonnie Prince Charlie were on the march! The Hanoverians in London were getting increasingly nervy as the Scottish army headed south. 

It was determined that a decent patriotic song was just what was needed to restore public confidence in the German royal line. Handel apparently, blew the dust off some old song, changed the lyrics and hey presto, "God Save The King" was born. 

I have always found it extremely amusing that a song about the King of France's bumhole should become the British national anthem. You might want to think about that, the next time Last Night of the Proms is on.

Naturally there are some historical spoilsports who dispute this story but POO to them, I say.

S.

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