"A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of the worm." Not exactly A Midsummer's Night Dream as a subject for this dreary day of the week which by Shakespeare's time was called Wednesday in England and loyal to the Roman tradition was still called dydd Mercher, after Mercury, in Wales. And yes, there's something to savor in the idea of a pompous old fart and his fishing rod contemplating the blotched and rotting yellow corpse of a king being eaten of by enthusiastic and cheerful worms at a bait shop.
In the long gone, when they were raising Silbury Hill, the Wren, a tiny creature, was declared the King of Birds. On the approaches to the shortest day, young European males since before the Celts would hunt and kill the king of birds. Protein for the soup some might say. Indeed, but there was much more to it, even back then young men weren't that bright, they needed purpose and the neolithic equivalent of buddy movies to keep them on track. On the Solstice as dictated by the priests and their calendars, the Old Year died so the New Year might rule and bringeth forth plenty. Yes indeed, whether good or bad, whether he was a winter king or a summer king, the year was a king, a noisy king at that. So why not impress the ladies by taking him out and eating him instead of waiting for the pig to fatten.
Richard the Second was ten years old when he was crowned king in 1377, he was married to a six year old when he was 29. No one liked him, they liked his courtiers even less, thieving, corrupt, arrogant and ignoble, they were absolutists of the very worst kind. Little did young Richard know that his sole contribution to Western Civilization was to inspire Shakespeare's political play and much more important to the wider world, he inspired the Keepers of Wren Lore to wax ironic on the subject of their passion with a secret poem about the Peasants Revolt.
Oh yes, you know you're alive in a pointless era when the passionless fellas with the port, the diplomas and house maids claim that street demonstrations and other disturbances do nothing. I mean God Lord! Think barrels of tea, guillotines and the Cutty Wren, then try and find your imagination.
Simple enough, the boys out hunting thought it might be fun to chase down the idea they should be paid what they were worth and not what the nobles and the King's men at arms decided they were worth. It all got a bit out of hand, they'd eat the only king left to them, divide the bounty amongst those in need.
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