Ardoberg Enquirer Reporter: Good afternoon, Your Majesty. Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview.
Louis-Phillipe, King of San Maurice: You may rise. We are always interested in promoting peace and understanding through dialogue. Ummm, We understood there was to be …something…a token?
AE: What? Oh, the bananas, of course. I have them right here, Sire.
L-P: You have our gratitude. Please place them over there with the others.
AE: Your Majesty, can you share with our readers the cause of the recent outbreak of war between San Maurice and Ardoberg Holstein?
L-P: In short, We could say the Elector of Ardoberg Holstein is an idiot, but that wouldn’t make for much of an article for your newspaper, would it? And so, we must delve into the painful details.
There is a professor in Konigsberg, one Immanuel Kant. Perhaps you have heard of his work? No? Well, Professor Kant, in his lectures at the University there has proposed a theory of Transcendental Idealism, which seeks to provide a non-empiricist critique of rationalist philosophy.
AE: t-r-a-n… say, how do you spell that.
L-P: You can fix it later. My time is valuable. The poor fellow, Kant, I mean, sent a copy of his lecture notes to the Bishop of Ardoberg, a committed Empiricist, hoping, I suppose, for some sort of patronage. The Bishop invited the professor to visit Ardoberg so he could be hanged by his neck, thereby saving his soul. Poor Kant, who has never been more than 10 miles from Konigsberg, was quite nonplussed. My ambassador at the court of the Elector is an ardent Rationalist, and he saw fit on his own account to protest most vigorously to the Elector himself. That dullard has no interest in anything that doesn’t march around in a tacky blue suit, but he knows a plausible excuse to make war when he hears one. In short order I had received his declaration of war, full of the usual misspellings and grammatical errors.
AE: Can’t you do something? This must be stopped! Terrible battles will be fought!
L-P: I blame you, monsieur.
AE: Me?!!! How is this war my fault?
L-P: We didn’t say it was your fault, We said We were blaming you. We are bored now. Get out of Our sight or We shall throw Our poop at you.
Louis-Phillipe, King of San Maurice: You may rise. We are always interested in promoting peace and understanding through dialogue. Ummm, We understood there was to be …something…a token?
AE: What? Oh, the bananas, of course. I have them right here, Sire.
L-P: You have our gratitude. Please place them over there with the others.
AE: Your Majesty, can you share with our readers the cause of the recent outbreak of war between San Maurice and Ardoberg Holstein?
L-P: In short, We could say the Elector of Ardoberg Holstein is an idiot, but that wouldn’t make for much of an article for your newspaper, would it? And so, we must delve into the painful details.
There is a professor in Konigsberg, one Immanuel Kant. Perhaps you have heard of his work? No? Well, Professor Kant, in his lectures at the University there has proposed a theory of Transcendental Idealism, which seeks to provide a non-empiricist critique of rationalist philosophy.
AE: t-r-a-n… say, how do you spell that.
L-P: You can fix it later. My time is valuable. The poor fellow, Kant, I mean, sent a copy of his lecture notes to the Bishop of Ardoberg, a committed Empiricist, hoping, I suppose, for some sort of patronage. The Bishop invited the professor to visit Ardoberg so he could be hanged by his neck, thereby saving his soul. Poor Kant, who has never been more than 10 miles from Konigsberg, was quite nonplussed. My ambassador at the court of the Elector is an ardent Rationalist, and he saw fit on his own account to protest most vigorously to the Elector himself. That dullard has no interest in anything that doesn’t march around in a tacky blue suit, but he knows a plausible excuse to make war when he hears one. In short order I had received his declaration of war, full of the usual misspellings and grammatical errors.
AE: Can’t you do something? This must be stopped! Terrible battles will be fought!
L-P: I blame you, monsieur.
AE: Me?!!! How is this war my fault?
L-P: We didn’t say it was your fault, We said We were blaming you. We are bored now. Get out of Our sight or We shall throw Our poop at you.
I don't get it......... - Mike
ReplyDeleteHmmm, a sort of middle-of-the-road monarch, I must say. Certainly not as twisted as those vile Stagonians, but less "with it" than several current heads-of-state (and, sadly, much more together than some).
ReplyDelete-- Jeff