The Holy Grail Press
Proudly Made On Earth By Earthlings
Word of the Every So Often
cete: (noun) (pronounced: set-tee) a group of badgers. “Cete” could very well come from a word that Chaucer made up for "city," or it could come from the Latin word for an assembly: coetus. Or it could come from the word “sett,” which is what a badger’s burrow or den is called. The sett was sitting in the cete.
The Almost Daily
Happy Birthday William Shakespeare! Mind you, keeping accurate records of anything is a fairly recent phenomenon. That’s why no one can say with certainty when the Bard was born... until now. Shakespeare was born on April 23, 1564. That day may not be right, but we’re going to say it with certainty, and you can quote it with equal certainty, too.
The closest thing we have of any proof of when Shakespeare was born is his christening date, April 26, 1564. In Shakespeare’s time, as laid out in The Book of Common Prayer (one I’m sure we’ve all read), “...it was required that a child be baptized on the nearest Sunday or holy day following the birth, unless the parents had a legitimate excuse.” The nearest holy day after the 23rd (a Thursday), however, was the 25th, St. Mark’s Day. However, St. Mark’s Day is still considered by some to be unlucky, and who wants to be christened on a day when “...the spirits of those doomed to die in that year...” are supposedly walking around in the churchyard? So putting off his christening to the 26th (the Daily Double: St. George’s Day and a Sunday) for fear of haunts would’ve been a pretty legitimate excuse.
Of course, he could’ve just as easily been born on the 24th or the 25th. But, then, we do know that Shakespeare died on April 23rd (in 1616). So having him born on the same day saves ink. And that’s as good a reason as any.
Cartoon of the Week
“That joint’s so polluted that even the pollution’s polluted.”
Stuff
Time and Temperature
It came as an epiphany.
The bank’s time and temperature wasn’t wrong.
It was actually telling what the temperature
was going to be
tomorrow at 6:17 p.m.
It was a window into the future.
Perfectly useless for most aspects of life,
except maybe planning a picnic,
but nevertheless,
a chance to see what had not yet happened,
what was going to happen
28 hours and 16 minutes from now,
any now.
So instead of going to work one day,
I just sat in the bank’s lot
and watched as it cooled off tomorrow evening,
down to an overnight low of 63,
before it started to warm up again at sunrise,
day after tomorrow.
It was only after I’d been there for over a day
that I noticed the parking lot was full of other cars
with their occupants doing nothing else
than watching that digital readout.
One guy here,
two guys there,
even entire families
sitting in rapture
over what tomorrow’s weather was going to be.
I think it was finally hunger
that made me abandon my spot,
which was quickly filled by one of the cars
circling the lot,
hoping for someplace to land.
At times I’m tempted to go back,
just to see,
just to know.
But that intersection has become so congested
that it would add a full thirty minutes
onto my commute,
and I don’t want to leave any earlier,
and I can’t afford to be late.
Contact Us
Comments? Criticism? Insults? Money Orders?
Earl, our editor, wants to hear from you!
(But that doesn't necessarily mean you'll hear from him.)
Send your messages or bank account information to: