Most people assume that the phrase web of lies is a simple metaphor. They assume that it refers to a collection of lies that are as intricately woven as a spider's web. They assume an ass of themselves.
When the British government conducted one of its regular censuses in the 21st century, a startling proportion of the population claimed that their religion was Jedi, in order to irk the powers that be. This British tradition of making a mockery of serious attempts to better administer their grim land has its roots in the Domesday book.
After the 1066 Norman conquest, the Domesday book was compiled as a consensus of who the newly conquered people were and what they possessed. An astonishing proportion of the population took the opportunity to make a mockery of their Norman overlords.
There was a farmer in Somerset who claimed to be in the possession of a 42 ton pig. A blacksmith in Rochdale claimed to have coated his children in molten metal. The Archbishop of Yorkshire claimed to have fathered 4600 children, all of them female.
The Normans, being French, curled their lips and sneered at this typically British mockery. They went about the villages and towns of England with a plan to ensure they would never again be openly ridiculed.
For every untrue thing a person had claimed in their census, the Normans plucked a hair from their head. The hairs were returned to London, where they were woven into a giant web, warning the English to never again be so bloody sarcastic.
The web of lies was over a mile in diameter. Strung between the rooftops of the city centre, every time an Englishman looked to the heavens in his capital during the period of Norman rule, he was greeted with a reflection of his people's idiocy. At least, that was the Norman's intention.
The plan backfired and the impressive web of lies caused people from all across Britain to visit the English capital to ogle it. People would wander the streets searching for a glimpse of the hair that had been plucked from their own head, which they would then boast about. The taverns of London were filled with such tedious boasting for decades after the conquest.
The web of lies became such a recognizable London landmark that it was kept in place long after the Normans had been kicked back across the Channel to their motherland. It remained suspended over the city until its destruction during the Great Fire of London in 1666. The flammable web of human hair played no small part in helping the fire to sweep through the city with astonishing speed.
Many historians contend that this six hundred year old strand of netting was a breeding ground for bacteria, and one theory posits that the bubonic plague which so ravaged London in the years leading up to the Fire was in fact spawned within the web itself. It seems the sneering Normans had the last laugh over their belligerent subjects.
Without realizing, when people today speak of a 'web of lies', they are referring to lies which will eventually spawn pestilence and possibly even cause an entire city to become engulfed in flames.
Showing posts with label Phrases. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phrases. Show all posts
Thursday, 9 December 2010
Monday, 16 August 2010
Phrase 1: "Heads will roll."
Did you see the state of the company's finances? Heads will roll. Did you see the sport team's recent poor performance? Heads will roll. Did you hear that young pop starlet utter an expletive on morning television? Heads will roll.
We often make assumptions on the history of a phrase's usage based on the context we hear it in. The truth is many commonplace phrases have evolved from the most surprising of origins. When we hear 'heads will roll', we often assume it to be a reference to beheading. Capital punishment for failure has been a punishment meted out with callous impunity throughout the history of human civilization. We therefore assume when we say 'heads will roll' we are harking back to a simpler time, where payroll imperfections would've resulted in Steve from HR capitulating to the guillotine come Monday morning. The truth is far less morbid.
In the 19th century, 'medicine men' were a phenomenon common to much of the nubile United States of America. These travelling salesmen/conmen went from town-to-town, promising to cure the townsfolk of any ailments with potions concocted, or so would they claim, from the pureed bladders of wild animals, most commonly bears or mountain lions. These potions were, in reality, gleaned from the bladders of lesser beasts, such as the skylark or the house-cat. As time wore on, the people grew suspicious of the medicine man's empty promises. The medicine men, in turn, incorporated endless new techniques in their pursuit to rob the townsfolk of their riches. One medicine man gave birth to a device known in modern advertising parlance as 'the tagline'.
This first tagline?
Heads will roll.
Heads was a slang term used throughout the American mid-west of the nineteenth century that referred to the condition we today call influenza. Throughout the winter of 1858, a particularly virulent strain of influenza spread amongst the populace of many townsfolk. This strain of influenza originated in alligators, common to the American wetlands. Once alligator flu had made the leap from reptilian to hominid, it spread across the land like butter on bread in a sandwich constructed from misery.
Bobby 'The Brain' Jessop had been at the medicine men schtick for years when this opportune outbreak arrived and was well positioned to benefit from it. Many townsfolk had come to regard the most likely cause of the virulent virulence to be exposure to bear bladder and therefore regarded the medicine men as evil witch doctor sadists. The population of entire towns would empty when the medicine man came to town, residents leaving their homes and possessions and forging new lives elsewhere rather than risk contact with the medicine man and his wares.
Bobby 'The Brain' saw a way around all this. He dressed as a townsfolk, moved into a town, stayed there for several months, then pretended to contract influenza and die from the disease. He would then watch from afar as the townsfolk held a funeral service for a bear Bobby 'The Brain' had killed and shaved of its fur. Bobby would then move onto another town and repeat the crazed ritual, having up to twelve towns at a time convinced of his humble townsfolk status and tragic death. He'd then return to each of the towns in turn on the anniversary of his death. He'd dig up his coffin, drag the rotting furless bear carcass into the woods, then leave the townsfolk to wonder what the dickens was going on in their graveyard. Bobby 'The Brain' would return to town later that day proclaiming himself an immortal capable of bargaining with the Gods for the townsfolk's good health. The townsfolk duly poured their every liquid asset down 'The Brain''s gullet.
'The Brain' would then write 'heads will roll' on walls all over town, using the viscous dung produced by the townsfolk's cattle. This reassured the townsfolk of Bobby's good intentions. 'Heads will roll' became a much-loved mantra of social affirmation in the society of mid-19th century America, much as 'simples' is in 21st century Britain.
'Why the modern malice?' the more athletically alliterative amongst you may be wondering. The answer is obvious, when you have researched the question properly. Jessop eventually died of an infection caused by a practice known as 'weaseltestine'. The townsfolk regarded the proposed immortal's inglorious death as proof that they lived in a random, chaotic, ultimately unpleasant world. 'Heads will roll' is an utterance that signifies a general resignation to the brutal reality of impermanence.
We often make assumptions on the history of a phrase's usage based on the context we hear it in. The truth is many commonplace phrases have evolved from the most surprising of origins. When we hear 'heads will roll', we often assume it to be a reference to beheading. Capital punishment for failure has been a punishment meted out with callous impunity throughout the history of human civilization. We therefore assume when we say 'heads will roll' we are harking back to a simpler time, where payroll imperfections would've resulted in Steve from HR capitulating to the guillotine come Monday morning. The truth is far less morbid.
In the 19th century, 'medicine men' were a phenomenon common to much of the nubile United States of America. These travelling salesmen/conmen went from town-to-town, promising to cure the townsfolk of any ailments with potions concocted, or so would they claim, from the pureed bladders of wild animals, most commonly bears or mountain lions. These potions were, in reality, gleaned from the bladders of lesser beasts, such as the skylark or the house-cat. As time wore on, the people grew suspicious of the medicine man's empty promises. The medicine men, in turn, incorporated endless new techniques in their pursuit to rob the townsfolk of their riches. One medicine man gave birth to a device known in modern advertising parlance as 'the tagline'.
This first tagline?
Heads will roll.
Heads was a slang term used throughout the American mid-west of the nineteenth century that referred to the condition we today call influenza. Throughout the winter of 1858, a particularly virulent strain of influenza spread amongst the populace of many townsfolk. This strain of influenza originated in alligators, common to the American wetlands. Once alligator flu had made the leap from reptilian to hominid, it spread across the land like butter on bread in a sandwich constructed from misery.
Bobby 'The Brain' Jessop had been at the medicine men schtick for years when this opportune outbreak arrived and was well positioned to benefit from it. Many townsfolk had come to regard the most likely cause of the virulent virulence to be exposure to bear bladder and therefore regarded the medicine men as evil witch doctor sadists. The population of entire towns would empty when the medicine man came to town, residents leaving their homes and possessions and forging new lives elsewhere rather than risk contact with the medicine man and his wares.
Bobby 'The Brain' saw a way around all this. He dressed as a townsfolk, moved into a town, stayed there for several months, then pretended to contract influenza and die from the disease. He would then watch from afar as the townsfolk held a funeral service for a bear Bobby 'The Brain' had killed and shaved of its fur. Bobby would then move onto another town and repeat the crazed ritual, having up to twelve towns at a time convinced of his humble townsfolk status and tragic death. He'd then return to each of the towns in turn on the anniversary of his death. He'd dig up his coffin, drag the rotting furless bear carcass into the woods, then leave the townsfolk to wonder what the dickens was going on in their graveyard. Bobby 'The Brain' would return to town later that day proclaiming himself an immortal capable of bargaining with the Gods for the townsfolk's good health. The townsfolk duly poured their every liquid asset down 'The Brain''s gullet.
'The Brain' would then write 'heads will roll' on walls all over town, using the viscous dung produced by the townsfolk's cattle. This reassured the townsfolk of Bobby's good intentions. 'Heads will roll' became a much-loved mantra of social affirmation in the society of mid-19th century America, much as 'simples' is in 21st century Britain.
'Why the modern malice?' the more athletically alliterative amongst you may be wondering. The answer is obvious, when you have researched the question properly. Jessop eventually died of an infection caused by a practice known as 'weaseltestine'. The townsfolk regarded the proposed immortal's inglorious death as proof that they lived in a random, chaotic, ultimately unpleasant world. 'Heads will roll' is an utterance that signifies a general resignation to the brutal reality of impermanence.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)