Milwaukee, Wisconsin

March 24, 2010 at 9:27 am | Posted in J. Frederick | Leave a comment
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[Editor’s Note 1: Certain other online encyclopedias would have you believe that Milwaukee, Wisconsin was founded by French Canadian fur traders in 1846.  However, recent research suggests that the fabled Cream City was known to scholars as far back as the medieval ages.  The following 13th century illuminated manuscript – written by an unknown hand but attributed to an obscure Flemish monk – was found in the Naïve’s Guide archives underneath a pile of outdated phone books and catalogs, and provides some fascinating insight into the spell that this mystical metropolis must have held over its author.  Most of the first few pages are stained with some horrible caustic substance, but as we join the narrative, two knights have met on a lonely path in a fog-shrouded wood…]

            “Who art thou?” vociferated the knight.  “How darest thou trespass these woods?”

            “’Tis I,” said his foe, “Sir Greg.  And I knowest who thou art, Sir Sean.”

            “Thou speakest the truth, good sir knight,” Sir Sean said.  “Thou art indeed a worthy adversary.  Thou art welcome here, but trespass not in these woods again, lest ye be trespassed upon – by mine lance, in thine eye!”

            “I heed your warning, good sir knight, and shallest abide by it, respecting thine authority in these woods, and thine most feared and much amir’d skill with thine lance upon thine steed.  Indeed, tales of thine travails against thine foes have traveled as near as the fair county of my birth, and as far as Milwaukee, Wisconsin.”

            “I have not heard of such a land,” Sir Sean exclaimed, captivated most fully was he by this news.  “Tellest me, noble friend, of this place, this Milwaukee thou hast spoken of, lest I despair from curiosity most foul and debased.  Aye me, that I should live in such a world that I mightest hear not of Milwaukee.  Oh Heavenly Father, wouldest thou send me to the blackest pits of hell, forged by thine fallen lieutenant Lucifer himself, without hearing of the fair and most lovely Milwaukee?  For thine own green and goodly creation itself wouldest be but a charr’d and evil gorge of thine most sick and putrid putrescence, were it not for thine own lovely land of Milwaukee, home of thine most noble Lords and fair and chaste Ladies.”

            “Thine tongue rarely deigns to seek respite, good sir knight,” Sir Greg replied, after a fashion, “but as thou seemest to have had thine say, I shall tell thee of the fair land of legend.  For I too, though mine own land of Knightsville is indeed fair, and wherest I was rais’d from but a yowling whelp, have long desir’d to visit Milwaukee.  For, so the tales tell, liest there in Milwaukee are the most fair sights thine own eyes shall ever partake upon.  So they say, in their House of Learning, there be a Museum, and therein liest the largest dinosaur skull in the world.  So to, tankards of the finest ale and mead thou shall ever deign to imbibe reside there too, and the flagons of beer flow forth most copiously.  The most beauteous and mellifluous music thine ears shall ever hear, call’d by them the “Polka”, playest at all moments, at pleasingly loud volumes.  Yea, and fine Sportsmen known as the Brewers reside there too, competing most honorably for the pride of their City, and so too their noble friends and cousins, the Bucks.  Thou and I both must aspire fully to travel there someday, good sir knight and honor’d friend.”

            “Then what sayest thou, my friend, to mine new offer: we shall join together, this very day, and travel there at once.  Yea, and our adventures shall be retold throughout the generations, from father to son, until all good peoples of all Nations recall us fondly.”

            “It shall indeed be most difficult to leave mine fair homeland and place of my birth, but I agree to thine request.  We shall leave immediately!”

            And thus, Sir Greg and Sir Sean deigned to leavest their homelands for the fair Milwaukee.  But the tales of their resulting travels are intended for another time, dear reader, and here thine humble chronicler endeth his tale.  Peace be with thou and thine friends!

[Editor’s Note 2: Some readers have questioned the authenticity of this document, it being filled with obvious anachronisms, as well as being written in a vague, largely inaccurate, and indeed almost absurdly childish representation of what actual medieval English sounded like.  There is, in fact, a perfectly valid and sensible reason for these apparent inconsistencies, and ordinarily we would be happy to provide the document in question to any experts interested in determining its authenticity, but unfortunately, we lost it.  It might be in the coat room.  In a related story, the Naïve’s Guide is in need of a new archivist; please contact us for an application.] – J. Frederick

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