Why do fires blaze all over merry England? No, it’s not a celebration. It’s those damned Vikings again! They’ve been threatening to do this for a long time, but now it’s 1016 and they finally did it.
Saint Blithe would never have let this happen. She was all right. But we didn’t make her the Queen. That would have been too easy. That would have been a blessing. The way God Blessed Texas.
We did not have Saint Blithe in charge because we chose her relative, Æthelred the Unready. Can you imagine going on a date with Æthelred the Unready? Hey, Æthelred, I’m in the mood, did you bring protection?
No, woe is me, I am unready!
Because of the strength of its leadership, England did get fucked by the Vikings, who were led by Cnut. Cnut would fuck anything.
Anyway, Saint Blithe lived out her life in the quiet, blasé precincts of Norfolk. Her son did even more all right. He was named Saint Warstan, and he could talk to animals. Imagine, everybody else was fussing and fighting, and this dude was good vibes only with lambs and pigs. Don’t ask me, it’s the Catholic Church that can verify what the animals told him and vice versa.
But, in Vatican documents recently declassified, we see the following parable:
L: “Saint Warstan?”
W: “Yes, Leonardo di Capria,” for that was what he called his friend, the billy goat.
L:“I just wanted you to know something.”
W: “You go first.
L: “Oh my gawd, you’re so nice. No, you.”
W: “You’re the best, shaggiest, softest friend I ever had.”
L: “You’re the Goat.”
W: “Well, obviously, you’re the Goat.”
L: “Stop. I’m dead.”
W: “Leonardo, why do humans fight?”
L: “Saint Warstan, with the exception of you and your family, all the humans I know are sheep fuckers. And as a goat, I hold space for them but in a rich sort of simultaneous paradox, I just can’t with them.”
W: “Nor could I. I talk to those sheep all the time. They’re always so traumatized.:
L: “Do you think we should be worried about this King Cnut guy?”
W: “Can’t be any worse than the last Viking invader, King Svein Forkbeard.”
L: “Well, that sounds like a terrible human being. But a good wrestling name.”
W: “Time for my afternoon nap. No. More. Politics.”
L: “Gosh, you’re the best human ever.”
And they napped until the cows came home.