Help me out here.
410 years ago a Catholic guy named Guy Fawkes was arrested for plotting to blow up the House of Lords because he felt that the Protestant King James I was too intolerant of Catholic guys, but since some other Catholic guys ratted Fawkes out, Guy got arrested before he could detonate anything, and since neither King Jimmy nor the HoLs were blown to reens smither, 5 November became an official holiday by act of Parliament recognizing the providential hand of Almighty God in keeping England Protestant. Since then, it has inexplicably mutated into an excuse to set large fires, blow things up, and burn effigies of the Pope, the King, Guy, and just about anybody that has managed to inspire enough ill-will in someone else to make them want to stuff a suit with hay and set it on fire.
I first found out about Guy Fawkes when I was doing some mandatory etymology research under the lash of Prof. Huber as I kicked against his efforts to teach me English. "Guy," was the word I had pulled out of the hat, and Huber said he was counting on me because he didn't know where it came from himself
At the time, all the hyper-links were kept in this thing at the library called a "card catalog" while we were waiting for Google to be invented. I kept seeing references to Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, but nothing that explained why he was named Guy, or where the word 'guy' came from. After rummaging through five or six drawers of the card catalog and looking up about fifty references, I became obsessed with the Guy Fawkes story and forgot all about my assignment. All of the references to Guy cited a compendium of British history that was not at the branch, so I talked my uncle into taking me to the main library downtown.
Mr. Decimal had failed to mention that the book I was looking for would be found in the "Central Stacks" on the dimly lit and guarded second floor. I was escorted in by the library hunchback who informed me that the book "must forever remain on the premises." Yeah---direct quote. If that wasn't enough, after he took the book down from a high shelf and put it on a table for me he said, "this book is worth considerably more than you." And if that still wasn't enough, he sat there and looked at me the whole time. The book itself was one of those corded spine leather tomes rarely seen outside of movies about devil worshipers, so it was fairly distracting when Quasimodo sat down across from me and folded his arms, but after he fell asleep he was less Boris Karloff and more Uncle Fester, so I just ignored him.
I was making notes on all sorts of obscure British history when I stumbled on the truth about the assignment I had so completely forgotten about. Guy Fawkes wasn't named Guy because he was a guy; Guys are called "guys" because British kids would make Guy Fawkes effigies and cart them around door-to-door asking people to give them a "penny for the 'Guy'," which explains where we got the word guy, but oddly enough, goes right along with the historical trend of the actual Guy Fawkes/Gunpowder Plot/Bonfire Night situation not making any damned sense at all.
Decades later, it got worse when V, the lead character in the film V for Vendetta, recited The Fifth of November poem that I had copied down in my notes. I had a strong "glitch in the matrix" moment that was intensified by suddenly realizing that the masked V was portrayed by Hugo Weaving, the actor that played Agent Smith in The Matrix where the phrase "glitch in the matrix" came from. This was followed by several milder deja vu aftershocks, when Weaving portrayed Gandalf's friend Elrond in Lord of the Rings as I had confused Ian McKellen, who played the wizard Gandalf, with Richard Harris who played the alpha wizard in Harry Potter who just so happened to have a pet phoenix named Fawkes.
As a precaution, I sent an email to the House of Lords advising them to keep J.K. Rowling the hell out of their basement, but then realized that most of my concerns can be attributed to a mental disorder that causes me to see connections where there aren't any.
I guess the main thing I don't understand is how the holiday became almost antithetical to the original intent of celebrating the preservation of government. The now ubiquitous Guy Fawkes masks have become a symbol for the anarchistic "Occupy Whatever" movement, Libertarians, Whistle-blowers, and just about any group of people that can somehow manage to think of themselves as being anti-establishment.
Oh, wait. Duh! I get it now.
Anyway, here is the version I had in my notes. It's not the one I usually see, but I think the last part shows how the British kids justified their fundraising efforts. If you try to imagine your teenage-self reading it out of the Necronomicon in the company of a snoring albino, perhaps you'll understand why it stuck with me.
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason, why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot!
A stick or a stake for King James' sake
Will you please to give us a fagot
If you can't give us one, we'll take two;
The better for us and the worse for you!
A penny for loaf to feed the Pope
A farthing o' cheese to choke him
A pint of beer to rinse it down
A fagot of sticks to burn him
Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star
Burn his body from his head
Then we'll sing ol' Pope is dead
Hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!
NB: I fully intend to detonate fireworks this evening, but I'm only going to do it as a defiant act of protest against the idea that one must have a reason to detonate fireworks, and I'm only wearing the Guy mask because I think it looks cool.
410 years ago a Catholic guy named Guy Fawkes was arrested for plotting to blow up the House of Lords because he felt that the Protestant King James I was too intolerant of Catholic guys, but since some other Catholic guys ratted Fawkes out, Guy got arrested before he could detonate anything, and since neither King Jimmy nor the HoLs were blown to reens smither, 5 November became an official holiday by act of Parliament recognizing the providential hand of Almighty God in keeping England Protestant. Since then, it has inexplicably mutated into an excuse to set large fires, blow things up, and burn effigies of the Pope, the King, Guy, and just about anybody that has managed to inspire enough ill-will in someone else to make them want to stuff a suit with hay and set it on fire.
I first found out about Guy Fawkes when I was doing some mandatory etymology research under the lash of Prof. Huber as I kicked against his efforts to teach me English. "Guy," was the word I had pulled out of the hat, and Huber said he was counting on me because he didn't know where it came from himself
At the time, all the hyper-links were kept in this thing at the library called a "card catalog" while we were waiting for Google to be invented. I kept seeing references to Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, but nothing that explained why he was named Guy, or where the word 'guy' came from. After rummaging through five or six drawers of the card catalog and looking up about fifty references, I became obsessed with the Guy Fawkes story and forgot all about my assignment. All of the references to Guy cited a compendium of British history that was not at the branch, so I talked my uncle into taking me to the main library downtown.
Mr. Decimal had failed to mention that the book I was looking for would be found in the "Central Stacks" on the dimly lit and guarded second floor. I was escorted in by the library hunchback who informed me that the book "must forever remain on the premises." Yeah---direct quote. If that wasn't enough, after he took the book down from a high shelf and put it on a table for me he said, "this book is worth considerably more than you." And if that still wasn't enough, he sat there and looked at me the whole time. The book itself was one of those corded spine leather tomes rarely seen outside of movies about devil worshipers, so it was fairly distracting when Quasimodo sat down across from me and folded his arms, but after he fell asleep he was less Boris Karloff and more Uncle Fester, so I just ignored him.
I was making notes on all sorts of obscure British history when I stumbled on the truth about the assignment I had so completely forgotten about. Guy Fawkes wasn't named Guy because he was a guy; Guys are called "guys" because British kids would make Guy Fawkes effigies and cart them around door-to-door asking people to give them a "penny for the 'Guy'," which explains where we got the word guy, but oddly enough, goes right along with the historical trend of the actual Guy Fawkes/Gunpowder Plot/Bonfire Night situation not making any damned sense at all.
Decades later, it got worse when V, the lead character in the film V for Vendetta, recited The Fifth of November poem that I had copied down in my notes. I had a strong "glitch in the matrix" moment that was intensified by suddenly realizing that the masked V was portrayed by Hugo Weaving, the actor that played Agent Smith in The Matrix where the phrase "glitch in the matrix" came from. This was followed by several milder deja vu aftershocks, when Weaving portrayed Gandalf's friend Elrond in Lord of the Rings as I had confused Ian McKellen, who played the wizard Gandalf, with Richard Harris who played the alpha wizard in Harry Potter who just so happened to have a pet phoenix named Fawkes.
As a precaution, I sent an email to the House of Lords advising them to keep J.K. Rowling the hell out of their basement, but then realized that most of my concerns can be attributed to a mental disorder that causes me to see connections where there aren't any.
I guess the main thing I don't understand is how the holiday became almost antithetical to the original intent of celebrating the preservation of government. The now ubiquitous Guy Fawkes masks have become a symbol for the anarchistic "Occupy Whatever" movement, Libertarians, Whistle-blowers, and just about any group of people that can somehow manage to think of themselves as being anti-establishment.
Oh, wait. Duh! I get it now.
Anyway, here is the version I had in my notes. It's not the one I usually see, but I think the last part shows how the British kids justified their fundraising efforts. If you try to imagine your teenage-self reading it out of the Necronomicon in the company of a snoring albino, perhaps you'll understand why it stuck with me.
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason, why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot!
A stick or a stake for King James' sake
Will you please to give us a fagot
If you can't give us one, we'll take two;
The better for us and the worse for you!
A penny for loaf to feed the Pope
A farthing o' cheese to choke him
A pint of beer to rinse it down
A fagot of sticks to burn him
Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star
Burn his body from his head
Then we'll sing ol' Pope is dead
Hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!
NB: I fully intend to detonate fireworks this evening, but I'm only going to do it as a defiant act of protest against the idea that one must have a reason to detonate fireworks, and I'm only wearing the Guy mask because I think it looks cool.
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