A False History

Way back in the ancient times when the kings ruled the land, during the reign of the first king, a kind man with a large and entertaining court, Cathula, the first king of all of the isles, master of land and of water, reaper of a mountain of wheat, owner of cattle so numerous that the sound of their herding was the sound of the sky breaking apart during a storm, though there may be no cloud in sight, this grand and benevolent king had a jester, whose name was Pithe. Pithe was a famous jester. Known for his wit throughout the land. And he was the court favorite of king Cathula. So sharp was the wit of Pithe that his humor spread from out of the halls of Cathula's castle and into the ears and hearts of the land. And the people of the land of Cathula spread the humor of Pithe across the seas and into other kingdoms and across the land, and eventually all of the people who worked with ships and all of the people who gave goods to people on ships and all of the people who came in contact with these people, whether in trade or other business also came into contact with the humor of Pithe. So great was the humor of Pithe that it remained true to the word of his tongue, and the spirit of his humor, wherever it traveled. And so too was it then as it is now that as the humor became more popular with the masses, the people who worked with the land the humor fell out of favor with the rulers of that land, though the humor of Pithe had not been reduced in one way at all. So it came that though the people everywhere knew of the humor of Pithe, they knew nothing of Pithe himself, nor anything of the land where Pithe lived and where the grain grew high around the castle walls of Cathulaville.

After a time tragedy struck, as does whence passes any significant period of time, and a great plague fell upon the land and lashed out and brought down many people of all of the lands. In this dark time the humor of Pithe was heard nowhere as no one had the humor in them to speak upon the ears of the dying. And after the time of tragedy passed and many people had died, the humor of Pithe was heard no more, though the enormity of its presence in the humor and hearts of people could still be felt in the trickle of mountain streams, in the bulging of country hills, which are still laughing their slow laugh though eternity to the humor of Pithe.

Because this humor was kept in an oral tradition among the working classes of the ancient times virtually no relic remains. Few bathroom stalls remain from this period, which was oft the sole place of inscription, where there any, of Pithe's humor. It was almost totally removed from court life during the total reign of its popularity, though scant remaining evidence suggests that courtesans did in fact indulge its humor during the roar of jousting tournaments and at witch burnings, which I have also discovered was actually a slang terminology used by male courtesans to ensure their female counterparts that when they went to watch a woman of ill repute writhe around a pole on a raised platform in front of them it was actually to cleanse society of the evil urges of man that must be, ahem, dealt with from time to time. What I was saying is that the court didn't keep records of Pithe's humor, and since peasants couldn't write, the tradition nearly died out when the plague struck and killed off 3/4 of the population. Scant evidence did survive, though, on bathroom stalls, of those that became petrified, or preserved by, the godawfulest of means that I won't go into here, and a few other forms, novelty pens, anatomy shaped balloons, etc.... And I have brought it upon myself to bring this humor back to the modern world, because Pithe, genius which graces our world a few times in eons had tapped into some internal spirit that speaks to the core of the human experience and tickled it. Though I cannot promise to mimic, or imitate his humor, I can attempt to reconstruct it so that the world may be pleased again.