Saint Vinny and the Venerable Beats

Before the Beach Boys, before the Beatles, and even before the invention of modern English, there was the most remarkable ecclesiastical boy band since Pope Innocent and the Crooning Cardinals - Saint Vinny and the Venerable Beats.

The classic logo for Vinny's monastic Band of Brothers.

Growing up in the small town of Tyneside, Vinny went on to a rather droll career in a local monastery, where he translated Vergil, read his psalms, and secretly composed boy-band songs. Eventually tiring of his vow of silence, he broke onto the monastic musical scene at a late stage in life, but he enjoyed immediate success.

He was initially a solus act, with such hits as "Abbey Woad", "We Will Block (Manuscript) You", and "A Little Less Conversation a Little More Illumination". He soon formed his own band however, the Venerable Beats, and for a long time they were all the rage with the nuns.

Continuing to blossom into an interdenominational musical phenomenon, the band continued to enjoy success with the release of such monastic compilations as Celibate! and Bad Habits. They even introduced new genres of music, such as Latin pop and Soul.

Westminster Abbey was a popular venue for the Beats.

For his contributions to music and the church, in particular his Headbangia Ecclesiastica Dulcimeri Anglorum (roughly translated as "Ecclesiastical Headbanging with English Guitars"), he was made a Saint by Pope Gregory III for "outstanding contributions to the cultural and ethical precepts upon which the church was founded and for some bloody good Gregorian dulcimer riffs!"

The Taj Mall and Other Indian Wonders

Contrary to popular knowledge, the nation of India was quite sophisticated long before any European involvement.

The emperor Shah Jam, tired of being a second rate business Mughal, decided to open an attraction bound to reel in the big rupees - the Taj Mall. After trying for many months, he finally found a willing insurance provider, and thus spent the next twenty-two years perfecting his elaborate mallsoleum. Upon completion, the monstrosity of a mall contained a dozen curry bars, numerous Vietnamese dry cleaners, a very extensive Planet Bollywood, several reincarnated petting zoos and even, over the holidays, a Buddha photo booth for the children.

Families from far and wide gather for their kids to have a picture with Buddha.

Other areas of India also enjoyed commercial prosperity. The New Deli Supermarket became famed throughout the Orient for it's tasty tofu products, including Bamboo on a Stick and Veggie Sikh-kabobs. Other hits were Black Rolls with Low-Cal Butter and Sacred Fig Newtons.

Bollywood, of course, was also just taking off around this time. Movies were slow in coming, since most of the population just wanted to watch reality T.V., in particular Bombay Idol, Bad Karma, Pimp My Elephant, Punjab'd, and Delhi or New Delhi.

Pimp My Elephant, a classic product of Bollywood Reality T.V.

The Wong Brothers’ First Flight

Many cite the incident occurring at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina in 1903 as the first manned flight. However, the Wong brothers had already beaten out the Wrights centuries earlier in Shanghai, China.

From an early age, twin brothers Tu Wong and Wai Wong endeavored to make the first manned flight. After graduating from Fu Manchu University in 1553, they attempted to gain a government grant for their experimentations with aerodynamics and human flight. While initially skeptical, the Chinese government provided complete funding after the Wong Brothers built a rice-powered nuclear reactor.

Initial progress was slow, and after depleting the government's reserves of disposable peasants, they finally decided to add seatbelts. Within five years of diligent trial and error tests, however, the Wong brothers finally managed their first manned flight, and became instant celebrities.

Can two Wongs make a flight?

Not only did the Wongs achieve financial success within China, but their fame also soon spread throughout the Asian continent. The new invention even inspired early Japanese cinema, inspiring such box office hits as Wongfully Accused, War of the Wongs, and What Wongs Want. However, there were some terrible flops as well, such as When Hari Met Kari, which bombed at the box office.

Where did they go Wong?

With fame, however, came inevitable plagiarism. The Wong Brothers sued Jackie Chan for making an unauthorized documentary based on their exploits, dubbed Shanghai Flights. Recently, the Wong Brothers have also made news headlines by suing the creators of the North Carolina and Ohio license plates. The case has yet to be settled.

The Many Wives of Henry the VIII

Large and in charge, King Henry the VIII of England was known for having more wives than the entire male population of Salt Lake City combined. He has been likened by many modern historians to a British King Solomon, both for his obscene number of female counterparts and his rather substantial paunch. However, only six of his many reported wives have actually been documented in history. This is their story.

Had he not been king, Henry said he could have been the next 50 Pence.

Catherine of Pentagon was the first recorded wife. Many suspected her of being a New World spy, but Henry was not too fussed so long as she could give him a male heir. Catherine, however, was reportedly not very good at that (only giving him a daughter, Blood E. Marie) and was also, at 40, a bit crusty for the youthful Henry. After failing to secure the Pope's approval for a divorce, Henry just did away with her and moved on to Anne Barren.

Anne Barren was also disappointing, for what reasons Henry could not work out. After she failed to give him the goods (excepting a daughter, Lizzy Beth), he had her executed on charges of witchcraft, treason, adultery, incest, and bad breath. Next on the agenda was famous actress Jane Seymour.

Jane Seymour was a Tudor T.V. personality and phenomenon, known for her renowned cooking show Sieve and Let Fry and her reoccurring role on Dr. Gin: Medicinal Woman. She and Henry shared many happy, long nights together, before finally having Henry's first male heir, Lil' Eddy. Sadly, Jane died not long after the birth of Eddy due to a quail overdose, for which she had developed a nasty obsession during her pregnancy.

Jane Seymour just had that effect on Henry.

After a brief period of mourning, Henry's eye caught the rather large bodice of Anne of Cleavage, and they were soon married. However, their relationship was a shallow one, and after a few months of broken promises, broken hearts, and broken bodices, they decided a divorce would be the best solution.

Determining "the more the merrier" as his philosophical viewpoint on life, Henry married again, this time to Kathy Howard. Alarmed by his expanding girth, she soon turned to a life of marital unfaithfulness, and she too was promptly executed.

Henry married one last time. By now a very old, knackered, and dreadfully obese British monarch, Catherine Pear was practically taking pity on him when she married him. After a short period of relative bliss, Henry popped his podgy clogs and Catherine Pear went on to cash in on a lot of money (no one had bet on her outliving Henry).

Lil' Eddy, Lizzy Beth, and Blood E. Marie went on to a lives of civil strife and national turmoil before Lizzy finally secured the throne, but that is a yarn for another day.

Chris Columbus: The Conquests of Merchandise

In 1492, Chris Columbus sailed the ocean blue. But in 1491, he made many bad movies. It was on account of this that he set sail for the "New World" the next year, in hopes of finding inspiration, or at least cheaper film sets.

Columbus had a hard time finding a sponsor, since his Ravioli Westerns had been a dismal flavor in Italy. He eventually was able to find patronage in Spain, but only because Ferdinand and Isabella had terrible tastes in movies and were rather desperate.

Setting sail in his three ships, La Ninny, La Pinto, and La Santa Barbara, he soon made it farther than any film crew had made before, setting down in some exotic Caribbean Islands which he named San Andreas. Despite initial displeasure with rotten coconuts and rubber palm trees, Columbus was ultimately satisfied by the island's best export - cheap film crews.

A very happy Chris Columbus, having just relieved himself after a long boat trip.

He soon held open auditions for his next movie, something about a British boy wizard, and natives from across the island erupted onto the film set in swarms. Unfortunately, the Europeans seemed to be carrying rather a lot of nasty diseases, so most of the locals popped their clogs during the middle of their auditions.

Determined not to go back to Spain empty handed, Columbus gathered the few remaining Indians (or so he thought!) and returned to the courts of Ferdy and Isabelle. There the Indians established quite a name for themselves, and became the well known band, Euphoria.

Upon returning to Spain, the Indians cleaned themselves up quite nicely.

Chris Columbus continues to make a name for himself, and is currently the only living explorer/filmmaker who has a holiday named after him.

Samuel Adams and the Boston Beer Party

Samuel Adams once said, "Give me a half-decent, untaxed, all-American beer, or give me death!" Or maybe that was someone else.

Either way, Samuel Adams was truly a "Renaissance Man": he was an astonishing contributor to the American War for Independence, skilled diplomat, loving husband and father, and (most importantly) a prolific beer manufacturer, which made him rather popular with the minutemen.

Sammy Adams enjoying a cold one.

Born in Boston in 1722, Adams went on to Harvard, where he received degrees in Beer Composition and Beer Theory respectively, before going on to start his own local Boston brewery in 1745. He met with only mild success, due to the huge amount of imported British Beers (despite American protest) and high taxes on local brews. Determined to succeed, he began to branch out into new realms of brewing brilliance, gaining widespread success with his cold beers.

But the British soon got in his way. After declaring innumerable taxes on American products, the Beer Act was the law that broke the brewer's six-pack. Assembling a band of fellow cold-beer lovers, the Sons of Brewery, in 1773 they proceeded to dump several tons of Newcastle Brown and Guinness into the Boston Harbor. Fishermen later reported that the local sea-life was completely wasted for months.

Locals rejoice at the prospect of no more warm beer. The fish will take whatever comes their way.

Shortly after, war broke out among the colonies, and Samuel Adams assisted the revolutionaries, while still maintaining his brewery in the interests of "morale." He began to branch out into other alcoholic beverages and international markets, first coming out with the Declaration Draught for local and foreign patriots, before distilling his award-winning Spirit of '76, which did remarkably well internationally, often marketed under such slogans as "The Shot Drunk Around the World" and "It will get you drunk!" It is often believed that it was this success that brought the French, who were starting to find champagne highly over-rated, into the War on the side of the Americans.

Even though Tea may have "won the war" for Britain in the 1940's, it was most certainly Samuel Adams' Boston Lager that did it for the Americans in '83.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Renaissance Painters

Known for many years before their famous appearances on children's prime-time television, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Renaissance Painters were at large in the Italian Mafia as far back as 1492, when Chris Columbus was only just starting to make half-decent films.

Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello were all humble contributors to the Renaissance tradition by day, but by night they formed the most feared and notorious gang of antidisestablishmentarianists since The Boys from the Basilica, defenestrating Protestant backside since 1517.

"La Pita", one of Michelangelo's most famous bakery product sculptures.

Many have questioned these mysterious ninja painters' (and sculptors') intentions, some citing them as more deranged than Vincent Van Gogh on opium, while others have since hailed them as the 15th and 16th centuries' guardians of the Roman Catholic Faith. Some leading historians even go so far as to say they were bribed by the Pope with indulgences. A smaller, but equally reputable group of historians, suggest pizza.

Fanatically loyal to the Pope, their religious terrorist activities in Protestant Europe are legendary, including (but not limited to) the Revolting Peasant's War of 1524, the Diet of Radioactive Worms, the sinking of the Mary Rose, the framing of Catherine Howard and Anne Boleyn, and (allegedly) placing laxatives in Martin Luther's cornflakes.

Martin Luther, after having a rather nasty laxative in his cornflakes.

While they have long since passed into the alfredo sauce of time, their exquisite paintings and calabunga T.V. show lives on in the hearts of stuffy art collectors and small children everywhere.

The Salem Wicca Wicca Witch Trials

I won’t pretend to know what you’re not thinking – the Salem Witch Trials were merely an elaborate front staged by the KGB so that Arthur Miller could get his knickers in a knot and win a Pulitzer Prize. No, that is not what happened. The Salem (Wicca Wicca) Witch Trials were a completely different affair, and Marilyn Monroe was nowhere near this one.

Arthur, trying very hard to get his knickers in a knot.

It all began in 1693 on one, dark night in a small Massachusetts village. The minister, Woolgrease Lather, had been delivering a particularly slick sermon based on his highly successful audio book series “101 Ways to Spot a Witch”, captivating his entire Puritan audience, with the exception of the Sarah Sisters (or the Sisters Sarah, as they were called in the convent), Tuba, the token gangsta punk, and the local wannabe pop star, Mariah Corey.

Mariah Corey convinced the other three to “ditch the joint” and so they went out into the woods and started singing a somewhat unoriginal pop song. The two Sarahs, although rather naughty nuns, were not terribly good pop singers and decided they’d better stick to the convent Choir. Tuba, on the other hand, being the cutthroat gansta that she was, decided to break out her DJ moves, and accompanied Mariah with a few scratchy “wicca! wicca!”s. They also happened to be scantily clad, because that is what pop stars do; but of course, by Puritan standards, they were “butt nekkid.”

Disturbed by the noise and sounds of “wicca” witchcraft (also known as non-traditional church music) the Puritans poured out of the Church with the Reverend Lather’s “101 Ways to Spot a Witch” fresh in mind and had themselves a witch hunt. The next morning, the aforementioned were all put on trial for premeditated witchcraft, indecent exposure, and painfully bad music.

"(wicca, wicca) Can't Touch This!"

Among the judges were the Reverend Woolgrease Lather, a professional shepherd turned minister (and the somewhat smelly son of Cotton Lather, who was known for his fragrant soapy cotton products and for being much better smelling), John McHale, a Brave who had been playing ball with the Indians down south, and the Gov’ner Willy “Black-Eyed” Pips, a former pirate, musician, rhubarb salesman and London cabbie (in that order).

Looking for a scapegoat, the accused blamed their poor state of mind on the lawyers, doctors, and dentists, because of course they earn too much money and are always to blame. The next morning, Rebecca the Nurse, John the Doctor, and Roger the Toothacher (known for his extortionate dentist fees and nasty root canals) were all hung and burned in Bisquick. Running out of scapegoats, Mariah and the others revealed that there were mentions of witchcraft in Bridget Bishop’s diary, and she too was hung and burned in Bisquick. But the judges, still not satisfied, continued to track down any further accomplices.

Sensing rising tensions in the courtroom, George Jacobs Jingleheimer Schmidt attempted to do “the wave” but was met with little success and very grave looks, especially from John McHale, who had never been a big fan of the Yankees. After it was revealed that George Jacobs Jingleheimer Schmidt was German, the evidence for his guilt was overwhelming, and the next morning he was hung and burned in Bisquick crispier than a cremated Frankfurter.

Mr. George Jacobs realizes too late that the wave has not been invented yet.

And so the Witch Trials continued on for some time until, after many months of the blame game, the judges ran out of people to accuse, got fed up, and went home, after releasing Mariah Corey and her band from prison on probation. Mariah went on to a semi-successful music career, the Sarah Sisters started their own cake company, which apparently nobody didn’t like, and Tuba returned to a life of straight-up thuggin. Today, Salem is a number one tourist attraction for witches, wiccans, waccos, and hags who just want a little magic in their lives.

The Great Pompeii Flambé

While you are still savoring the remains of your previous day's Roshanakwanzamas Feast, think about those less fortunate than you, in particular those who, rather than cooking a turkey in the oven, had their proverbial gooses cooked by being inundated in a flood of scorching hot custard. Yes, I am referring to the Great Pompeii Flambé, the natural disaster of 79 A.D. in which the entire city was smothered by a rather nasty eruption of Ambrosia Custard (the food of the gods) from Mount Vesuvius.

Many people now know Pompeii for being a great tourist attraction that sells lots of overpriced bits of rock as souvenirs; originally, however, Pompeii was a tourist attraction of a different sort - it was the Las Vegas of the Roman Empire, known for its excessive binge drinking, gambling, women, and various other nefarious activities that Romans were rather good at it, in addition to conquering other people's hard earned land.

The whole incident involving Mount Vesuvius rather unfortunately occurred when Pontius Pomp, CEO of the original Caesar's Palace made a rash executive decision - he outbid his fellow competitors on an on-line ePompeii auction for Neptune's Trident. After receiving the sacred artifact by rush delivery, he promptly placed the exquisite piece on display in his casino without the permission of Neptune.

The original Caesar's Palace.

Learning of this, Neptune was pretty pissed. Deciding to avoid any legal entanglements, he did what any self-respecting Roman deity would do, and decided to wreak ridiculously and unjustifiably over-the-top mass destruction upon everyone within a five-mile radius of Pompeii. Thinking of something suitably original, he decided to make the formally dormant volcano, Mount Vesuvius, erupt with Ambrosia Custard, determining that after he had boiled the city alive with piping hot confectionary, he would add some chocolate sprinkles and make a meal of it.

And this is precisely what he did. Many Romans panicked in the streets and ran for their lives, but most of them were already crispier than burnt okra before they even had time to get off the lavatory. After second and third eruptions (of caramel and chocolate, respectively) Pontius Pomp, in particular, became a very dark, creamy truffle.

Ambrosia Custard - creamy, golden, and deadly in excessive quanities.

It has only been in recent years that the former glories of Pompeii have been re-exposed, although admittedly Neptune's leftovers have lost a bit of their original flavor.

The Culinary Exploits of Captain Cook

Having talked my proverbial knickers off for far too long, I have finally decided to publish my first historical snippet, this time on Captain James T. Cook.

Many have heard of the good Captain, but few know of his true story. He was the younger brother of the lesser-known Captain Kook, who was the first man to circumnavigate the Isle of Wight in an overturned umbrella and still make it back in time for tea. Maritime tendencies clearly ran in the family, as Captain James T. Cook had, by the age of 29, boldly gone where not many Englishmen had gone before - beyond the smoking parlour.

Captain Cook, having also graduated from Oxenfridge (with a B.S. in Fine Cuisine), had entered Old Navy with dreams of being the personal galley hand to the Lord High Admiral but, after proving his worth in the Seven Year's Collywobble, he was given captaincy of the ship H.M.S. Pinafore and sent on a voyage to charter the unknown realms of the world.

Captain James T. Cook's vessel, the H.M.S. "Pimpin'" Pinafore, cruising in the Pacific.

On his voyages, Cook did many great things for his native England. After establishing his own fast food franchise, Cook-in-the-Box (known for its tasty citrus burgers), he stopped in Samoa to view a stirring performance of South Pacific, before almost-but-not-quite-discovering Antarctica. Next, Cook sailed through New Zealand, witnessing a pre-screening of a new film one of the locals had been working on, then worked his way up through Australia, established a new franchise of "Planet Bollywood" in India, broke down briefly in New Guinea before being fixed up by the Pirates of Pennzoil, and made it to the Sandwich Islands just in time for High Tea.

The Voyage(s) of Captain James T. Cook.

It was on his way back to homeport, that disaster struck. While visiting Hawaii, Captain Cook gave the locals a taste-tester of his brand new rum line. After getting them all quite smashed, he asked them if they had "a little captain in them" and did a funny pose by placing his left food on a conveniently located raised object. Not only was this a shocking gesture in the local culture, but due to an unforeseen mistranslation, the natives thought that the Captain was asking them to eat him. After a somewhat hectic, savage bar fight this is unfortunately what they did.

The proverbial "cooking" of Cook's goose.

While Captain Cook died in action, his legacy of fine culinary achievement lives on (except for Planet Bollywood, which was a dismal failure) and he is remembered worldwide for his characteristic genius in both the kitchen and on the poop deck.