One of the more romantic sights of the Middle Ages is that of nobles riding horses, sporting birds of prey on their wrists to hunt small prey (anyone who has seen Ladyhawke knows exactly what I mean). The sport of falconry, or hawking, could be found throughout Europe but was reserved for those in power. Depending on their rank, different nobles were allowed to sport different species of birds:
An Eagle for an Emperor, a Gyrfalcon for a King; a Peregrine for a Prince, a Saker for a Knight, a Merlin for a Lady; a Goshawk for a Yeoman, a Sparrowhawk for a Priest, a Musket for a Holy water Clerk, a Kestrel for a Knave.” Selected from the Boke of St. Albans, 1486, and a Harleian manuscript – (1)
Falconry was a popular sport and status symbol among the nobles of medieval Europe, the Middle East, and Mongolian Empire. In this sport, the nobility would – supposedly – hunt small wild animals in their natural habitat with the use of a trained bird of prey. It is the common conception that falconry was largely restricted to the noble classes because of the commitment of time, money, and space. (2)(3) But what if there is another, more ominous, reason?
Fig 1: Detail of two falconers from De arte venandi cum avibus, 1240s (4)
While at first this might be a bit far-fetched, the recent discovery that birds are not real sheds a different light on this nobility-only restricted “hobby.” Instead of hunting for small game – a suspicious activity for those in power with access to the best of the best foodstuffs anyway – what if instead the nobility were using their falcon-drones to keep a close eye on their subjects? We now know birds are not real; they are, in fact, drone replicas installed by the government to spy on their citizens, and thus this would be a viable conclusion.
The Birds Aren’t Real movement, started by Peter McIndoe from Memphis, US, posits that “birds don’t exist and are really drone replicas installed by the U.S. government to spy on Americans.” Hundreds of thousands of young people have joined the movement, wearing Birds Aren’t Real T-shirts, swarming rallies and spreading the slogan. (5)
Technology has come a long way for modern people to not realize this at once – modern bird-drones are so well done they are nearly indistinguishable from real animals. Really, it makes much more sense that homing pigeons are computer guided; of course, they do not find their way home by themselves, flying rats that they are! But back in medieval times, bird-drones were still in development – often, hoods or caps were used to hide any glitches in the software otherwise visible in their optical lenses.
Fig. 2 – falcon-drone prototype as captured in stone dating back to the Viking age (7).
Fortunately for this paper, even though the medieval government, like it’s modern counterpart, did its best to hide any and all evidence of fake birds and falcon-drones (falcrones? faldrones?), one Viking age warrior saw through the ruse and went medieval to bring down an early prototype with his spear. (6) Thanks to him, we now have proof, literally written in stone (7) as was the custom of recording history at the time (8), that falcon-drones are real! And birds are not. Or are they?!
The Viking-Age Rune-Stones: Custom and Commemoration in Early Medieval Scandinavia (2003) by Birgit Sawyer, published by Oxford University Press
Many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen. – Caleb
Keeping track of all the objects stored in an institution like the immense British Museum is a daunting task. The store-rooms of this museum are brimming with stuff that evan a hoarder trepidation. It is perfectly natural that some objects have been, sadly, misplaced.
Such was the case when intern Agnes Hald (1) was exploring one of these storage rooms instead of having lunch at the pub. Upon opening a cabinet whose pad-lock was so corroded some thought it an artifact, this intern found an whole series of objects that hadn’t seen light since they were put in there.
On the second shelf was a dust cover shoe box. Hald carefully took the box off the shelf. On the top cover faded writing in pencil said:
C W P; S. Piggot: Sutton Hoo: June 7, ‘39
Hald has said she could not believe her eyes. Still, the intern just as carefully put the box back in its place, closed the cabinet, and went to see her supervisor, Angela Carver.
Curator Carver understood that interns were allowed to “putter” about the museum storage rooms, so long as they were careful. For this reason, Hald’s report to Carver did not excite her. Conversely, taking a look would be a welcome respite from writing expense reports, which the Philistine Administrators demanded. Carver followed Hald to the box in question, read the writing, and made Hald promise to tell no one. After this, Carver opened the box.
Covered in tissue paper was a “scrunched-up” (2) object with a muddy reddish-brown color. The object was thin and torn. Carver concluded that whatever it was, the object was incomplete and very delicate. She also informed Hald that the artifact was either genuine or someone’s idea of a joke, and that she was going to look at C.W. Phillips and Stuart Piggot’s notes concern Sutton Hoo, which were kept in the archive. Hald began doing this the next day.
Meanwhile the object, box, tissue paper, and all were (literally) carted off to the Museum’s Conservation Department. Head of the Department, Mr. H. Maryon Jr. correctly identified the shoe box as being from the late 1930s or early 1940s (3) and was impressed by the writing on the top. As for the contents of the box, he said nothing, but made noises that he was intrigued. Finding a better storage area, Maryon promised “to get to it” as soon as he was done writing a long expense report for the Museum Administrators. He mentioned that figuring how to take the reddish-brown object out of the box was “going to be tricky.”
One month later Maryon Jr. reported that the object was not leather, as first thought, but textile. This was determined after technician’s x-rayed the object, and plainly saw the weave. Further preliminary tests determined the textile was cotton, not linen (which is what the lab-techs originally thought.).
Meanwhile, Hald (4) had been reading through the notes of both C.W. Phillips and Stuart Piggot, who had originally found the item and extracted it. After some time, Hald found the following entry in Phillips’ notes for June 7th.
—Item # 42: found near iron complex. FRAGILE. Leather? Left in situ.—
And on June 8th.
—Item # 42, Leather, extracted into shoe box from Miss Pretty. S. Piggot did excellent job.
Hald made a copy of these entries, and reported her findings to Carver.
The eventual publication of the find (5) caused discussion among the archaeological community in general. Among the textile archaeologists, the find was cause for great deal of argument. A few scholars (dubbed “The Localists”) argued that, despite the burial’s connection with Byzantium, the object had to be made of flax. This debate was summarized by Hald (6), which included what the textile should be called—the “tea towel,” or the “bar rag.” It should be noted that the “surfer theory of migration” was completely rejected (6).
As it stands now, the textile is thought by most to be made of Egyptian cotton, and was a conversion gift along with the spoons found in the burial. The purpose of the textile cannot be discerned, since most believe it is a fragment of the original object. Still, more study is required concerning the trade connections within Europe in the 7th Century.
Notes
Hald, Agnes. “The Rusty Lock and the Cabinet.” Z-Drehen.Zietschrift fur Nerdigtextilvolk. Band 23, #87. (2024) ISSN: 0042-003X.
Carver, Angela, and A. Hald, H. Maryon Jr. “A Rediscovered Item from Sutton Hoo.” Bulletin for Early Medieval Antiquities. Vol. 6, No. 1 (2023). ISSN: 0476-1066.
Maryon Jr. H. et al. “Technical Aspects of Fragility, or How Do I Get This Out of the Box?” Newsletter for Museum Technical Stuff. (2025).
Hald. Ibid.
Carver, et al. Ibid.
The Surfer Theory of Migration states that the cause migration is the continuous search for beach-front property. By the way, this work is a hoax, brought on by the need to buy a 2nd towel, lo these many years ago, when Martin Carver was kind enough to allow volunteers to help at Sutton Hoo. The author is thankful to Professor Carver for the opportunity, and hopes he gets a laugh if he reads it.
Many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen. – Caleb
Much has been researched regarding the identity of the “Fair Youth” of whom William Shakespeare spent a large portion of time extolling the virtues, one that seemed to be an Adonis in physical beauty and amazing in every aspect. Yet this person remains unnamed and unknown, despite the devotion from the great poet and it becomes clear that Shakespeare acknowledged the special aspect of the sonnet subject while keeping that person at arm’s length. Some say this was a platonic love of Shakespeare’s while others insist that this was an actual physical lover. Some believe this was a young man for whom Shakespeare developed a father-son dichotomy or perhaps wanted to mentor.
Given the diversity of suggestive comments in Shakespeare’s sonnets, it becomes clear that the subject is none other than the Doctor, the alias assumed by a millennia-old humanoid alien called a Time Lord who travels through space and time in the TARDIS, and who continued to visit the burgeoning poet, and even perhaps took Shakespeare as a Companion for some time. By the time the Doctor left William Shakespeare back in his own time, the poet had a number of new ideas from which to create his library of works, but continued to eulogize the amazing entity that he had come to know and love.
One example of the Doctor’s influence in these sonnets is seen in Sonnet 3 when the poet states: “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, / Now is the time that face should form another”. By this point in their relationship, The Doctor had clearly visited this period of time repeatedly, and William Shakespeare understood that the visage of the Doctor transformed over time. Another example of this acknowledgement of the amazing reincarnating ability of the Doctor comes from Sonnet 6: “If ten of thine ten times refigured thee: / Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart, / Leaving thee living in posterity?” Whilst most people assume Shakespeare was overly obsessed with another man’s reproductivity, it is clear the poet was far more fascinated—and rightly so—with the Doctor’s ever-changing faces.
The Tardis itself received some recognition from Elizabethan wordsmith, notable in Sonnet 7 with the words “But when from highmost pitch with weary car, / Like feeble age he reeleth from the day.” Indeed, it is with Sonnet Seven with its talk of weariness, “burning head” and “new-appearing sight,” one suspects that this was an occasion when Shakespeare went with the Doctor on one of his many adventures resulting in either a transformation or the witnessing of the Doctor’s good works saving the Earth from peril. Regardless of the event, the Sonnet reveals clearly the sound of the Tardis and the results of a wearisome battle. Shakespeare also lauds the journey in which he participated, as seen in Sonnet 15: “When I consider every thing that grows / Holds in perfection but a little moment. / That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows / Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.”
Thus, we also see certain personalities come forward. Indeed, the poet as Companion sees how one face may be kind or encouraging, but another be wrathful or fretful. The amazement with which Shakespeare notes his Doctor’s self-doubt and loathing: “But that thou none lov’st is most evident: / For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate,” in Sonnet 10. This diverse personality change also is noted in Sonnet 117, where the poet states: “And on just proof surmise, accumulate, / Bring me within the level of your frown, / But shoot not at me in your wakened hate.” It is only natural that Shakespeare ask in Sonnet 53, “What is your substance, whereof are you made, / That millions of strange shadows on you tend?”
Lastly, a strong argument for Shakespeare and the Doctor traveling together is seen with the frequent discussion of “time” and how it controls—not the fair youth’s countenance so much as the subject’s very existence. An example is seen in Sonnet 126, the very last of the Fair Youth sonnets: “She keeps the to this purpose, that her skill / May time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill. / Yet fear her O thou minion of her pleasure, / She may detain, but not still keep her treasure!” Another example is seen in Sonnet 16: “But wherefore do not you a mightier way / Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time?” Such comments seem more about the Doctor’s attempts to change certain situations in time rather than a silly moment of self-vanity.
And so it appears that Shakespeare comments on his many adventures with the Doctor as a Companion on the Tardis. Certainly, it can be scoffed at that Shakespeare was instead talking of some lover or romantic interest at home living somewhere in England. It is important to add the final piece of evidence as seen in Sonnet 31: “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, / Which I by lacking have supposed dead.” Talking of the Doctor’s unique anatomy, it can only be concluded that the unnamed Fair Youth in fact needed no name, having only been called The Doctor during their time together. Eventually the Companion and Doctor must depart, and Shakespeare acknowledges this separation in Sonnet 87: “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, / And like enough thou know’st thy estimate.”
It is clear that William Shakespeare met someone that seemed to encompass the universe for the young poet, resulting in a fascination and obsession for someone who astounded, impressed, and amazed him. From the broad hints and references to time and space, it becomes all too obvious that the Time Lord was a friend of Shakespeare, and saw in him that special something that compelled the Doctor to return on a number of occasions to see him in the 1600s. In that sense, the Doctor helped Shakespeare become something of an immortal himself.
Many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen – Caleb
Although many archaeological projects have been on hold for two years now, a pre-construction cultural resources assessment in a small town in France was able to proceed during the summer of 2021. Thanks to a former graduate-school classmate on the dig, who sent me a few photos of artifacts they uncovered from what may have once been a medieval inn, I have had an opportunity to preview an interesting find. After some study and thought, I have been able to use it as a basis for a modern reconstruction of what it surely was once but a small part.
Fig. 1: The artifact in situ.
Fig. 2: Matching section of the original Bayeux Tapestry (not to scale).
However, as my friend pointed out, this small graphic is obviously copied from the world-famous Bayeux Tapestry.
It does seem rather unusual to reproduce just a tiny portion of such a large work in a different medium, as this artisan has done, so I would posit that this one piece is all that survives of a once much larger set. Further, I suggest that the work as a whole told a story, like the Tapestry does, but probably a different one, a version much closer to its context, and more appreciated by those who would see it up close.
Without further ado, then, is my reconstruction and highlights of portions of its tale. Of course future discoveries may well prove me wrong in my interpretations, but one has to start somewhere. The fact that this item was found on the site of a probable inn strongly supports the idea behind my conjectured result.
The basic story portrayed here seems to be one that would be familiar to many: it’s an epic pub crawl. However, there are some notable differences, such as asides covering the preparation, brewing, and transport of the beer that will be consumed. The main characters do seem to be enjoying themselves for the most part, with entertainment along the way, and a good meal, but what would a pub crawl be without a bit of rough play before the evening ends?
In homage to the Bayeux Tapestry from which this smaller version comes, I have named this reconstruction the Bièresyeux Capestry. (For those not familiar with French pronunciation, try saying “beers-yo” and you’ll be very close.) At some point my reconstruction will be used for its ultimate purpose: capping 261 bottles of homebrew.
Fig. 3: Fully reconstructed capestry; dimensions are 29 feet long by 1 inch wide (8.84m by 2.54cm); compare to the Tapestry, which is 230 feet long by 1 ½ feet wide (70m by 45.72cm). Banana for scale.
Please note that over two dozen enlarged, selected panels from the Capestry are available along with captions from the full story. These can be enjoyed on the author’s website at https://www.FoolsByRobert.com/capestry.
We are taught that London burned down in 1667 because of a fire that started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. When the fire was brought under control, four days later, more than four-fifths of the city was destroyed. Miraculously, only 16 people were known to have died. Was this due to advanced fire-fighting technology or was this because the fire was actually planned to destroy a kaiju? A “dragon”, if you will. Granted, the people of 17th century London would not have used the word “kaiju” as Godzilla movies did not appear in England until the mid 1950s. The natives would have used such language as was familiar to them. And since Jacobean English had few Japanese words mixed in with it, they would have turned to their own legends and used the word “dragon” to describe the giant beasts that roamed the country.
In 1217, there was a beast of a sea monster that prowled the Thames river; some references referred to it at 300 stone in size. The poem “The Dragon of Wantley”, first published in 1685, recounts an legendary monster that ravaged the land in the mid 15th-century.
All sorts of cattle this dragon did eat.
Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
Devour up by degrees:
For houses and churches were
to him geese and chickens
He ate all, and left none behind,
but some stones, dear Jack,
that he could not crack,
Which on the hills you will find. [1]
Geoffrey Of Cambria’s 1455 “The History of Britain” recounts what might have been the same monster.
Then a great dragon began to ravage the country-side with fire and alone did a single knight take arms against it, and in the end, was the victor. All night long did the raging flames swept o’er the land and the water, and all withered and burned at it’s touch. The dragon had burned up the people’s homes and fields. The city did burn as likewise did the ships and the water-skirted land was devastated. Not ‘til the touch of dawn did the dragon end it’s destruction and retreat to its lair. Great faith did it have in the safety of its hiding place, but it’s faith was to be futile.
While stories of giant dragons continued to be written, in England, after the Great Fire, [2] no credible accounts of dragons were recorded. I feel that the last of the great, English kaijus was killed in London, in 1667. While there are many conspiracy theories that have survived even to this day, (Freemasons started the fire to create more work for themselves; French and Dutch agents started it to punish the English for their pie eating habits; Charles II started it as revenge for London’s support of Parliament during the Civil War; Robert Hubert claimed to start the fire in Westminster but it got out of hand when the wind shifted.) [3]
Illumination of an medieval kaiju.
The 200 foot tall monument to the fire might be a clue as to the size of the kaiju that attacked the city. It is possible that the kaiju was lured to the city to destroy it, hence the few fatalities recorded, as the population was told “to remove themselves and Goods into the open fields” [4] for their own safety. “The London Gazette” recounts the fight against the monster with chilling words:
…pulling down houses…”, “Too big to be mastered by any Engines or working near it.” “About the Tower the seasonable orders given …to secure the Magazines of Powder.” “…but all in vain, the [monster] seizing upon the Timber and Rubbish and so continuing it self, even through those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday, notwithstanding His Majesties own, and His Royal Highness’s indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it.
Finally, the monster was defeated. Again, from “The London Gazette”:
…by the falling … upon a Pile of Wooden buildings; but his Royal Highness, who watched there that whole night in Person, by the great labors and diligent [used], and especially by applying Powder to blow up the Houses about it, before day most happily it [stopped].” “On Thursday by the blessing of God it was wholly beat down and extinguished.
London was destroyed, but its citizens lived and the last of the great English kaijus was dead.
Footnotes
[1] “The Dragon of Wantley”, quoted from Thomas Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient Poetry”
[2] Even an opera was written in the 18th-century.
[3] These are all actual conspiracy theories about the fire.
[4] “The London Gazette”
References
Æthel, Aunt. “Models of Dragons Are Not To Scale.” Aunt Æthel’s Big Blog of Baloney. Created on February 31st, 1987.
Anonymous. The Dragon of Wantley, quoted in Thomas Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry (17th Century)
Anonymous. “The London Worm?” Punch Magazine. Unknown Volume. 1891.
Bell, Walter. The Great Fire of London in 1666. New York Bodley Head. 1923.
Jones, Terry, and Alan Ereira. Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives. London: BBC, 2004.
Mortimer, Ian. The Time Traveler’s Guide to Elizabethan England. New York: Penguin Books, 2013.
Moxon, Steve. The Dragon of Wantley. Creative Commons, May 2013
Shorpe, L. Geoffrey of Cambria’s The History of Britain. London: Penguin Books Ltd. 1981
“The London Gazette – Fire of London” The London Gazette. Published by Authority From Monday September 3 to Monday September 10 1666. British Library. Timelines: Sources from History.
The first in the series: many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen – Caleb & Aunt Æthel
By Éadaoin Ruadh
Æthelmearc, Barony of the Rhydderich Hael
I am most certain, dear readers, that you are familiar with the mound of technological ingenuities of the Roman Empire, in both the civil and military theaters. Pieces of ancient history and scientific advancement that we still utilize in our everyday: heated floors, aqueducts, one-use javelins, (1) stabbing tyrannical rulers in groups. But a recent find out of Nouera, Italy could be unarguably the
find of the millennium. (2)
Roman dodecahedron.
These dodecahedra began popping up in archaeological digs since 1739 throughout the modern day countries whose land at some point was part of the Roman Empire. Most were made of bronze or copper alloy, (3) though a couple gold ones were unearthed in Rome itself. (4) Scholars have tried to reason out their use ever since, which became increasingly more difficult given the diversity of features, size, and age via seriation. The eureka moment of the 2020 Nouera dig, headed by Corona Lacticiniis Regina, came out of a well-protected leather case found in the bowels of the dwelling’s bathroom. Regina expressed in her recent publication that while no dodecahedra were found in the house, the precise drawings that accompanied the records left no doubt that these were the same items. (Regina 7)
Simply put, these objects were part of a complicated network of surveillance, maintained by the plebeians. The Nouera writings outlined in detail the stages of development of this endeavor, which began with the solid dodecahedra decorated with etched, concentric circles. The writers, who call themselves Anonymi, (5) attempted to recreate the acoustic physics behind the form of an amphitheater (Armad 24). The 3D etchings would catch tidbits of far-off conversation and reflect them back to an observer standing near the dodecahedron. Anonymi were able to hang these outside their homes without suspicion, passing them off as decoration. (Regina 8-32) Of particular note, the group was so ecstatic at this first iteration that the dodecahedra essentially did turn into decorations for parties in celebration of their success.
Regulus, (6) three cups deep into the evening, almost gave away the plan to a pair of vigiles on patrol. Yesterday, we had overheard that the local fighting dog Numeri was not only his own bookkeeper, but also a scammer in throwing key fights to grab greater purses. Regulus began flailing and reenacting a potential conversation between Numeri and his lackies in the middle of the street. But Regulus’ slurred explanation and apology to the guards was seen as nothing more than drunken ramblings. (Regina 28)
But do not doubt, readers, that the Romans stopped there. Further improvements of these dodecahedra culminated in the final product of the picture above. The hollow center held a round glass orb full of salt water, and the various sizes of circles etched to particular specifications in order to zero in on different distances from its location (Regina 93). The Anonymi needed to dedicate their time to these monitoring tasks more efficiently, and so created the water memory bank. The circles would then transfer their captured data into the water, taking advantage of water’s ability to hold memories. Conversations would be later extracted after ingesting the salt water, and with the aid of hallucinogenics at secret Anonymi gatherings.
The territory over which these objects were found spans nearly all of the Roman Empire, from northern Britain to Vienna and Zagreb. Observations within the Nouera writings credit them with some of the well-known language traits of the time. The particular strain of bronze in Wales, for example, was notorious for its tinny sound that contorted various consonants into y’s and w’s. The style of Andalusian dodecahedra was comprised of at least twice the amount of circles; their dispersal muddled the recorded sounds of z, c, and s to give us the “th” today (Regina 55).
Perhaps the most important fallout of Regina’s project is the new implications this has for research on the rest of the Roman Empire. How will this knowledge change our evaluation of records already uncovered? Did the populace catch wind of the Anonymi and alter their own language as a result? Who was Anonymi, and did they code any of these findings into their writings? Longtime colleague of Regina’s and prolific conspiracy theorist Drew Burymore has published a new podcast to parse out what’s hidden between the lines. A majority of the archaeological community has reluctantly agreed the April 1st episode should be commended for its solid research into the Roman entertainment industry.
…but the intriguing and even interesting segment of Octavia arises as metaphor in Nero’s divorce. The populace thought the move wretched, yet still lauded Poppaea’s beauty. The contradictory nature of these views is undoubtedly a sign that Seneca knew about the unrest within the Anonymi, something they were unable to voice unless in a drugged stupor. Drugged. By. Poppy opium. Poppy, Poppaea. Mic drop. (7) (Burymore “A Fool of Two Cities”)
The Nouera writings are certainly making their own way onto anthropological and archaeological pedestals. But before any SCAdian attempts a recreation of either these artifacts or their audio retention methods, dear readers, I must impart that Regina’s paper warned against this path. Her work with Inglots to cast several replicas of the dodecahedrones has been famously successful, while attempts to reproduce “recordings” has led to three and a half separate hospital trips. Should future trials ever prove fruitful, however, we will no doubt see more archaeologists’ ears on the Anonymi writings, and fewer on the ground.
Notes
Pilums were the inspiration for modern day staples, as highlighted in the flavor text on the corporate website for Staples
Oxford Academics are currently debating whether the six-fingered glove found in Sicily in the 1920s was just as revealing, and are weirdly stuck on debating the label “revealing,” citing that the word doesn’t mean what non-Oxfordians think it means (Montoya et al 4).
Renowned caster and hipster Brag Inglots lists these two compositions separately, but we can infer that the absence of their difference’s explanation is something we should already know (Inglots 54)
The gold dodecahedra, or dodec-Au-hedrons, were discovered in Barcelona, Spain. As all roads lead to Rome, philosophers all agree without appeal that any find on a road within the lands of the Empire was considered to have been located in the city. (Perez 12)
The naming of modern day MI6 agents with a particular first and given name James Bond originated from the very first spy of the Roman Empire, Una Anonymus. The name Anonymi is wittily the nomen’s plural form.
Regina elaborates in great detail the care to which the Anonymi protected their identities, by referring to each other with different names on different days, in a pattern she is still deciphering. Regulus was one of the most frequent choices. (Regina 32-115)
Burymore in fact dropped his microphone at the end of this rant, and ended the episode abruptly due to equipment malfunction
Sources
Armad, Moustafa. “Acoustics: Not Just For Pigeons in Ellipses.” Howton-Muffling, 2008.
Burymore, Drew. “What Does the Vox (actually) Say?” The Truth Unveiled. Bury More Publications. 2021.
Curtss, Jon. Photo of 2nd Century Roman dodecahedron. Corvus Fugit, Feb 28 2021.
Inglots, Brag. “On the Composition of Dodecahedrones.” Forgers’ Monthly, vol. 16, issue 3, May 2 2021, pp. 4-6.
Montoya, Eneego et al. “Council of the Not Nice—Seen!” Oxford After Dark Chocolate, vol. 910, issue 7, August 26 2021, pp. 3-9.
Regina, Corona Lacticiniis. “Holey Feces: The Nouera Writings and the Gaps They Fill.” Diggers, Doers, and Dodgers, vol. 28, issue 9, July 14 2021, pp. 1-219.
Many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen. – Caleb
Aunt Æthel asked me to come up with an April Fool’s Day writing challenge for the A&S peoples of Æthelmearc. The challenge is as follows:
1) Find an image of something unusual from the SCA time period. One image only, please.
2) Write a short paper for the Gazette for April Fool’s Day: one or two pages or around 1000 words. Not about what the image actually is, but what you think it might be. This is for humor. Have “evidence” that a battle was won through the use of interpreted dance? Have “details” about a cookbook for cannibals with recipes for Lent? Want to discuss the extinct species of killer oysters that once roamed Europe? Have “proof” that the Byzantine Empress Ariadne had her drunk husband, the Emperor Zeno, nailed into a sarcophagus and pretended that Zeno had died, even though everyone could hear him crying for help…. Wait, that actually happened. Save that one for a micro-research paper.
3) Please include the sub-title “Fake Research: Real Writing” so that we can sort out these challenges from the regular pieces submitted to the Gazette.
4) “Document” your claims in a professional fashion. Feel free to use as many “sources” or “footnotes” as needed. [1]
5) Please keep your writing family friendly, these will be read by anyone with access to the Æthelmearc Gazette. [2]
6) Leonardo da Vinci is off limits. Too many fake things are accredited to him; let us take the time to give bogus credit to other people from history. [3]
7) No aliens: The History Channel has that locked up and we don’t want to be sued for copyright infringement.
8) Even though this will be for fun and humor, please use the opportunity to practice your writing skills.
9) Submit your image and paper to the Gazette before April 1st. Aunt Æthel and I, and perhaps a few others, will read through all of the articles and pick a winner who will get the prize of bragging rights for the rest of the year. And I will have tokens for everyone who takes part.
Without further ado, here is my example of fake research: real writing:
Medieval Remote Controlled Ship Fake Research: Real Writing. by Caleb Reynolds
Take note of this image of the oldest, surviving, remote controlled vehicle. [4]
The oldest, surviving, remote controlled vehicle.
“This spice cellar, made to hold precious seasonings at the table, is of a typical northern European design. Major trade commodities in ancient and medieval times, salt and other spices were used both to preserve meat and to enhance the flavor of all types of food (often not very fresh). Some spices came from Asia and were very expensive. This whimsical container, in the form of a little ship on wheels, could be rolled from one guest to another.” [5]
This could have held salt in one half of the ship and ground pepper in the other half. This most likely was not made for major royalty; the details from the Museum do not list a maker or an original owner, but it appears to me that this spice cellar was not as valuable as some of the spices that it might have once held (the Museum does not indicate if any traces of spices were found in it during its two cleanings). The cellar is made of bronze and it is very nicely made, but it is not on the high end of such items that have survived. The interesting thing about this spice container, or nef, is not that it is a lovely bronze artifact that has survived several centuries, but that this is a battery operated, remote controlled “executive” toy.
What was once thought of as a third chamber to hold spices, has actually been identified as a battery compartment. The classification took years to make as the batteries required did not resemble modern batteries in shape or size. Electrical batteries can be, potentially, dated to the 2nd or 3rd century AD, with the discovery of the “Baghdad Battery” [6] It is theorized that this nef was designed, and perhaps built by, the legendary French architect and artist Villard de Honnecourt. [7] While this nef does not appear in the 33 surviving pages of his sketchbook, a percentage of the 250 some odd drawings do contain images of mechanical devices and automata, including the design of a perpetual-motion machine.
Unfortunately, the controller has not survived, [8] but we can assume that the nef was controlled by radio waves and not sound waves, due to the lack of visible microphones that would be needed to pick up the clicks and clacks of an audio controller. Such audio remotes were in use well into the 1970s when LED technology began to replace “clickers”. We can also assume that it does not function via Bluetooth as it is not Norse in design or construction. Since this object is a valuable piece of art, as well as of history, no attempt has been made to disassemble the nef to trace it’s circuitry. Furthermore, the device is too rare and delicate to attempt to power it up for fear that it would be permanently damaged. That, and the lack of the appropriate batteries, which we believe were last made in London in 1667, when the factory burned down due to a fire of unknown cause. [9]
While some may think that the idea of a medieval RC car might be in the realm of science fiction, please let me quote the writings of the 13th century Franciscan friar, Roger Bacon:
“Ships may be made to move without oars or rowers, so that large vessels may be driven on the sea or on a river by a single man, and more swiftly than if it were strongly manned. Chariots can be built which can move without any draft animal at incalculable speed… Flying machines might be made in which a man might sit, turning a certain mechanism whereby artfully built wings might beat the air, in the manner of a bird in flight. Another instrument could be made which, although small, will lift or lower weights of almost infinite greatness… Again, instruments might be made for walking in the sea, or in rivers, even to the very bottom… bridges might cross rivers without pier or prop.” [10]
While wholly mechanical devices are represented in greater numbers in museums, indeed there are dozens of examples of wind-up salt nefs from this same time period, and even more from the 16th century, [11] this is the oldest electric nef known to have survived. It is clear from the image that this is not a steam powered device: electricity would be the only, logical, method of propulsion, as there is no wind up mechanism present.
Some might say that this device could not have been remote controlled due to various reasons, i.e.: primitive medieval technology; lack of understanding of radio waves; the device predates Radio Shack; etc. Careful analysis of the nef, using non-destructive methods, have not revealed any controls on the device itself, [12] nor any holes or ports where a control cord could have once been connected to the internal mechanism. The nef is less than 6″ long, [13] far too small for a jacquard style controller. [14]
From a strictly engineering standpoint, it is clear that the remote control would only need a forward and back setting, much like a basic, toy train set, as the wheels of the nef do not turn left or right: the nef could only move forwards and back. Which, for a long high-table, would be most convenient: the host could drive the nef to a guest without the fear of steering it off of the edge of the table. Such a dining faux pas would be most embarrassing, and potentially dangerous as the spilled salt would be too far away to reach before the traditional bad luck stabs one in the back.
While this nef might never be powered on again, we can always hope that other, similar, devices might be found in the basements of museums, complete with their batteries and controllers. Or, perhaps, with new digital X-ray technology, researchers might be able to map out the interior of the device, layer by layer, so that modern day artisans might be able to replicate it’s design.
[1] Please feel free to use as many “bunny ears” as you see fit.
[2] Potentially the entire planet.
[3] There are three other ninja turtles who get zero representation.
[4] Currently in the possession of The Walters Art Museum (54.2501) and dates to around 1400.
[5] Description from Walters Art Museum’s web page.
[6] Actually it was discovered in present-day Khujut Rabu, Iraq.
[7] Gimpel and Barnes, various pages describing what is known about his life and history.
[8] While no radio controllers from this time period have survived, the complete lack of surviving controllers cannot be used to state, equivocally, that they never existed in the first place.
[9] Bell, p170
[10] Mortimer, p77 and other sources.
[11] The 16th century “Mechanical Galleon” is one of the best examples of a clockwork nef, which could roll on wheels, tell the time, play music, and fire tiny cannons at boring dinner guests.
[12] Not even an obvious On/Off switch.
[13] H: 3 3/4 x L: 5 9/16 x D: 2 11/16 in. (9.5 x 14.13 x 6.84 cm) Walters.
[14] While the Jacquard loom is a 19th century invention, the technology that led to it can be traced to 16th century Bruges with their cam-driven carillon bell ringing mechanism. That carillon was inspired by translations of Hero of Alexandria. See Burke, ch. 4.
Æthel, Aunt. “How to Fake It Until You Make It.” Aunt Æthel’s Big Blog of Baloney. Created on February 31st, 1982.
Gimpel, Jean. “Medieval Machine: The Industrial Revolution of the Middle Ages.” New York. Penguin Books, 1977.
Haughton, Brian. “Hidden History: Lost Civilizations, Secret Knowledge, and Ancient Mysteries.” Red Wheel/Weiser. 2006.
Jones, Terry, and Alan Ereira. “Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives.” London: BBC, 2004.
Keyser, Paul T. “The Purpose of the Parthian Galvanic Cells: A First-Century A.D. Electric Battery Used for Analgesia” Journal of Near Eastern Studies, vol. 52, no. 2, pp. 81–98, April 1993.
Mortimer, Ian. “The Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England: A Handbook for Visitors to the Fourteenth Century.” New York: Touchstone, 2014.
Scott, David A. “Copper and Bronze in Art: Corrosion, Colorants, Conservation.” Getty Publications. pp. 16–18. 2002
Tattersall, Ian; Nevraumont, Peter. “Hoax: A History of Deception : 5,000 Years of Fakes, Forgeries, and Fallacies.” New York. Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers. 2018
(14th century, Anonymous; British Museum, Arundel MS 292)
By: Caleb Reynolds
Swart [1] smutted [2] smiths, smattered with smoke,
Drive me to death with din of their dints;
Such noise on nights ne heard men never.
What with knaven [3] cry and clattering of knocks!
The crooked caitiffs [4] cryen [5] after coal! coal!
And bloweth their bellows till their brain bursteth.
Huf! Puf! says the one; Haf! Paf! says the other;
They spitten and they sprawlen [6] and they spellen many spells.
They gnawen and gnashen and they groan all together,
And holden them hot with their hard hammers.
Of a bull-hide be their barm-fells; [7]
Their shanks be shackled for the fiery flinders; [8]
Heavy hammers they have that are hard to be handled,
Stark strokes they striken on a steely stock, [9] Lus! Bus! Las! Das! Snore [10] they by the row,
Such doleful a dream that the devil it to-drive!
The master loungeth a little and catcheth a less,
Twineth them twain and toucheth a treble, [11]
Tik! Tak! Hic! Hac! Tiket! Taket! Tyk! Tyk!
Lus! Bus! Las! Das! Such a life they lead
All blacksmiths: Christ give them sorrow!
May no man for brenn waters on night have his rest? [12]
Or my modern interpretation:
Dark and dirty smiths, darkened with smoke,
Drive me to death with din of their dents;
Such nightly noise no man has ever heard.
What with course cries and clattering of knocks!
The crooked cowards crying for coal! Coal!
And bend upon their bellows until their brains burst.
Huf! Puf! says the one; Haf! Paf! says the other;
They spit and scrawl and speak many spells.
Thy gnaw and gnash and they groan all together,
And hold them hot with their hard hammers.
Of a full bull-hide be their leather aprons;
Their limbs be enveloped against the searing embers;
Heavy hammers they wield that are hard to handle.
Strong strokes they strike on a steely stock,
Lus! Bus! Las! Das! Grunt them by the row,
Such a doleful dream that it drives one to the devil.
The master rests little and picks up a small hammer,
Striking them together, the lesser sounds a treble note,
Tik! Tak! Hic! Hac! Tiket! Taket! Tyk! Tyk!
Lus! Bus! Las! Das! Such a life they lead
All blacksmiths: Christ give them sorrow!
For the hissing of steaming water may no man have his rest?
[1] Squat and burly. [2] Smudged. [3] Lower class. [4] A contemptible or cowardly person. [5] Calls [6] To write, draw, or mark awkwardly, hastily, or carelessly; esp., to write with sprawling, poorly formed letter [7] Blacksmith’s apron. [8] Small fragments or splinters, most likely used here as slag being hammered out of the metal. The line might describe how the smith’s arms are covered, rather than literally shackled. [9] Anvil [10] Here meaning snorting or grunting. [11] Beautiful imagery with these two lines. The master smith rest little and grabs a smaller [hammer], working in tandem with a heavy and light hammer. The lighter hammer making a higher pitch noise as it strikes. [12] No man may get sleep, because of these ‘brenwateres’, referring to the hissing noise as a smith cools his irons in water.
Gimpel, Jean. Medieval Machine: The Industrial Revolution of the Middle Ages. New York. Penguin Books, 1977.
Salter, Elizabeth. “A Complaint against Blacksmiths,” Literature and History 5 (1979): 194-215.
Schrader, Richard J. “The Inharmonious Choristers and Blacksmiths of MS Arundel 292.” Studies in Philology, vol. 104 no. 1, 2007, p. 1-12. Project MUSE, doi:10.1353/sip.2007.0004.
Thorpe, Deborah. “Heated Words: The Politics and Poetics of Work in ‘A Complaint against Blacksmiths,'” Parergon 32 (2015): 77-101.
Image from Arundel 292 f. 72 Detail of marginal pointing finger. Devotional miscellany, including the Creed in English, a bestiary, Apollonius of Tyre (ff. 41-61); Henry of Sawtrey’s De purgatio Sancti Patricii (ff. 73-88) see picture here
A closer look at Krupnik with Lord Cassiano da Castello in the 2021 Kingdom of Æthelmearc Arts & Sciences Championship.
Could you tell me a little about you, your persona. Is your entry something your persona would use?
I am currently a mix of personas, trending towards 16th C. Polish. The working story is that my persona traveled to Italy in search of new trade connections/ flavors, and due to a customs error, got stuck in Northern Italy with an Italian name. Lord Cassiano is still trying to get home to Poland, but alas, the records are mixed up and he is still trying to find his Polish name to leave.
My Kingdom A&S entry, a Lithuanian honey Krupnik made with rye vodka, is something that I think he definitely would drink and be familiar with. The research beyond the making of the drink argues that home distilling of this beverage occurred prior to the late period, and was available on special occasions like holidays. I have not proven this fully and entirely, but work continues.
Lord Cassiano’s yummy entry of honey Krupnik (sampled outdoors, of course).
What inspired you to make your entry? Did you have a specific need? A desire to try a new skill?
Several years ago, I was introduced to Krupnik by members of the Lithuanian diaspora in Pittsburgh, where many found work in mills, or in PA’s anthracite coal regions– that coal and steel barons may have also imported workers because of ethnic biases (Slavs work hard and don’t complain) is another story for another time. Regardless, I tried the drink, liked it, and thought I might try to track its roots back into medieval period.
There go some famous last words, as tracking it into medieval period has been difficult. What became a “I just wanna try this and see how it goes” became a real quest to try to give some small voice to a particularly marginalized and historically silenced area of the world. The more I dug, the more that I came to understand how another ethnic group came to be systematically hamstrung and erased from the medieval socio-political landscape. The Krupnik project, in attempts to use primary source documents, became a discussion of how to find answers in the land and in local hearsay, when the footsteps of life ways for a living, feeling people had been wiped from the landscape.
This line of inquiry kept me going where I might have been sincerely frustrated.
Did the entry throw up any unexpected issues?
Yes and no, all the issues and none at all. Krupnik is blessedly easy to make, and to make well. It has a flexible and robust recipe, capable of accepting additional and varied ingredients (I’ve made the recipe substituting honey with maple syrup, shagbark hickory syrup, and molasses, all have turned out delicious). It is very fun to play with, trying new flavors and new combinations because it holds up so well. So no issues in the project journal aspects of the project.
The research aspect will always have an asterisk, however. Certain folks have remarked that my documentation approaches thesis-length, and half of it is explaining leads that should be taken with a grain of salt, adding caveats, and extensively providing secondary resources where I lack a formal recipe. It’s not ideal. I know it isn’t. But I think that proper justice can be given with the source material provided, it just requires all that much more care and precision.
Did you learn something specific, something you would do differently, or would recommend others to do again?
In the last iteration of the project, I used rye vodka instead of another grain vodka, as I surmised that if a vodka was made in period, it would be from the most available, cheapest grain in the area, and thus rye. The resulting flavor change I think is the best version I have put forward. Rye has a spiciness/ sourness to it that I think really balances out the strong honey character. I would recommend this to anyone making Krupnik.
What do you think of the difference between entering an in-person or a virtual competition?
I have entered virtual competitions with tastings and I do prefer in-person for this. It takes so much more effort to ship out samples or drive them to people. Much easier for in-person!
What motivated you to enter the Kingdom Championship?
I try to enter everything I can. Feedback is necessary for sure, and I am chasing growth and direction with this project. It is also important to me to see benchmarks in my scores of how they change and what I can do to affect them. Even if they do not demonstrate growth, they are a marker of consistent effort, and that is meaningful.
Over the years, the Ice Dragon Arts & Sciences Pentathlon has seen some cool and unusual entries. I’ve mentioned a few in previous articles about the Pent and Pent group projects earlier this year, like the fantastical entry of three generations of ferret breeding by John the Artificer. Current Pent coordinator Cori remembers the hubbub that one created: “He can’t enter ferrets!” “Why CAN’T he enter ferrets?” and told me “if I recall correctly the next year the rules said No Live Animals.” Oh, to be the one a rule is named for – our word fame would last forever!
I must admit I had so much fun tracking down rumored entries through the grapevine I figured I’d write yet another Pent story. It’s not a chore at all as these pretty much write themselves! Did you hear about the year someone entered a full size Viking bed, which had to be stood up on its hind legs against a wall? Which, I now realize, explains the comments Hrólfr and I overheard when walking his tree log warp-weighted loom, in pieces, down the hallway towards the Pent room… “is that a bed? or a loom? no… I think a bed!” One time there was a painted-on-canvas tapestry of a whopping 25 feet long – recreating part of the Bayeux embroidery – and even a juggler that did tricks requiring 20 feet of clearance – he worked with five clubs and needed to throw high to have time to juggle all five – so he performed outside while the judges watched through a window.
One particular entry I personally would have liked to see up close was one of the first ceramic entries: a puzzle jug. This practical joke jug had holes at in the bottom and another one on the handle, for the thumb. If the thumb did not cover that hole on top, the water in the jug would sprinkle out the bottom. I do not know if the documentation mentioned this bit of information at the beginning, or at the end… and in my mind I see surprised and slightly damp judges! I was not able to track down this particular artisan to ask for clarification, but I found plenty of others more than happy to chat about their cool and unusual Pent entries.
A soapstone lamp entered by (then) Honorable Lord Cynwyl
A more recent entry that caught the eye of the audience was a beautiful teardrop shaped soapstone oil lamp by Master Cynwyl (then Lord). He remembers everyone loved it and said “I still use it at feasts sometimes. Since my persona is 11th cent. Irish, there would have been contacts with the Vikings in Ireland, so I thought it would work.” To shape the soapstone he used a coping saw, files and a sharp spoon-like tool called a scorp, and has used both linen and hemp twine for the wick. He uses vegetable oil for the fuel and lights it by dipping the wick in the oil, putting it in the grove and lighting it. He found that it will burn for about 9 hours and that the soapstone will heat up while it’s burning. The biggest challenge? “The hard part was tracking down the soapstone locally. Luckily there is a [local] geology/fossil store that had some.”
A much less impressive entry – perhaps, at first glance – could be the candied ginger by Mistress Honnoria of Thescorre (Order of the Sycamore at the time of entering). But while she is a Society renowned potter, she is not an SCAdian cook! She explained she had entered the candied ginger two years in a row: “The first year the scores were good, and I took the comments from that year to help my entry the next year. The second year I entered my scores on candy ginger were the best I had for the entire pent. I want to say I scored over 55 points on a scale of 60. It is absolutely worth taking feedback and improving once entry for the following year. That’s part of what good feedback does. I would say as long as someone is actually making the object again, I have no issues with them using the same type of item the year after. It was my best of the five scores that year and I believe ever.”
Like most artisans, she found it is often the hardest to find the fifth entry in the pent, and goes on to say (I love this part!): “At least personally it really challenges an individual into doing something they may not normally do. I would also say that one of my most interesting entries in terms of feedback was a weaving entry that I used based on a museum of London find. It was a card woven d-shaped cord. I tried to replicate it using cotton and the number of threads in the original. It was supposed to be round. I absolutely could not get it round and it wound up being the same D shape as the one in the book. By actually making it I figured out that the reason it was d-shaped and not round is you couldn’t pull it tight enough and there wasn’t enough warp threads to actually make it round. I broke a lot of thread in the weft making that cord. I wrote all of that up in my entry. It took a higher score than some beautifully done belts. The belts were beautiful, but they didn’t explain anything on why they chose to use acrylic versus wool or silk. They also didn’t explain any problems or issues they had. It is so important to put in to documentation if you had issues, what they were, why they were issues, and what you did to resolve them if you were able.”
The malt house miniature entered by (then) Honorable Lord Madoc Arundel
My personal favorite was a malt house miniature entered by fellow brewer Master Madoc Arundel (then THL). The 5 foot miniature was fully functional although not very efficient, mostly due to scaling. He remembers he “did have some challenges with the heat sink between the kiln and the drying rack… again, because of scale. Since I could not get a very large fire in the small kiln, getting it hot enough to actually draw heat through the sink was a challenge. I was using actual burnt-wood charcoal and had to soak the base layer liberally in lighter fluid to get them to set a good enough coal bed to keep the temperature up. Unlike a full-size kiln which I would have been able to fire-and-forget, I had to constantly tend the fire to keep it hot enough.”
Madoc’s malting kiln spouting nearly a foot of flame.
Madoc shared he learned a number of new skills for this project, including how to do mortise and tenon construction for the half-timber framing. And he harvested grapevines to use in the wattle and daub walls, and wove them before applying the plaster. He wrote: “The coolest thing, though, was the first time I fired up the kiln to see if it would draw through the vents… at its hottest, I had flame shooting nearly a foot out the top of the chimney.” Or course, it being a malting kiln, the real test was running a batch of grain through the process. He did two dried batches – one that was left just dry enough not to start growing again before the event and the other dried, left sit overnight, then ran through another kiln cycle to ‘roast’ slightly. “Honestly, I am as surprised as anyone that it actually functioned correctly.”
Another, fiery, project was entered by Master Creador (then Lord). In true artisan frantic, he wrote his documentation the night before the event as he almost did not enter! One of his pent entries had literally blown up: “The poor kitchen ceiling was covered in lead. Actually the modern, less toxic version of lead.” Creador recouped and did enter his fishing research in 4 categories instead. He did so well he now wonders if he would have won the full Pent if he had had that one last entry! The project came about when he finally located his primary source the month before the Pent, after researching fishing for many years.
His entry consisted of fishing line and wool for the flies and using dye recipes from the elusive Treatise (dyeing and weaving), as well as cork bobbers (wood working). He also entered fish bait made from rabbit (cooking), and entered the whole project in the mixed / specialty art category (the current categories are slightly different). His fail was with the lead weights (metal working). He used a handmade mold of tempered clay and wrote: “Unfortunately there was some moisture in the mold so it blew. Luckily I have quick reflexes.” Sadly for us, there are no pictures of the fail nor of the project as this all happened back in 1995 before project photography was a thing. Creador remembers, back then “I did most of my research through interlibrary loan.”
Openwork honeycomb turnshoes, part of (then) Honorable Lord Robert’s Roving Shoe Show in the Pent Display
Not all cool and unusual entries to enjoy during the Ice Dragon Pent end up in the competition: the Pent also hosts a vibrant display. In the last pre-COVID Pent, Master Robert (then THL) made good use of this non-competitive opportunity. In his own words: “The genesis of the shoe show project came over a year before – it was not a last-minute idea. It seemed like a good way to display a corpus of work in order to draw attention – as [my Laurel] so often encouraged me to do – in a highly visible space. With that display in mind, I set about making a number of pairs of shoes designed to represent some broadly topical footwear-related items across time and space covered by our period.” Anyone entering the Pent room halted in awe and just had to come take a closer look at Robert’s amazing, and amazingly colorful, Roving Shoe Show!
But the one entry that brings home the cheese, pun totally intended? That was “that amazing kid’s cooking entry from the last in person pent.” Indeed, Cornelia won our hearts by appealing to our stomachs with her wonderful medieval mac & cheese. She says that she was excited to win, and nervous during the judging. But then, aren’t we all!
Cordelia with her mouth watering medieval Mac & Cheese entry
Want to learn more about entering the Passing of the Ice Dragon Arts & Sciences Pentathlon? Check the website here. Anyone can enter, and if you are not sure you can enter your cool and unusual project, just shoot Pent Coordinator Cori an email – she’d love to hear from you!
Many “thank yous” go out to everyone who submitted something for the April Fool’s “Fake Research – Real Writing” challenge. Thank you for taking the time to read, and enjoy, each and every one of these articles. Aunt Æthel and I were most amused to read the creative thoughts of our artisans. We will judge all of the articles after they have been all posted on the Æthelmearc Gazette, and then announce the winner who will have the rights to brag about their win for the next year to anyone who would listen. – Caleb
