HOMER and the TROJAN WAR
On a balmy summer evening in 799BC, Constantine Theodorakis,
a myopic Greek chicken farrier and failed astronomer, decided to celebrate his first wedding anniversary by taking Mrs T to a concert in the park on top of the city eminence which, 300 years later was to become the site of the Acropolis.
Both of them were disgusted at the quality of entertainment.
Rambling minstrel Mikos Jaggerius spent two hours
strutting to and fro like a demented turkey, whining
through a mouth endowed with astonishing amplitude, that he
‘caint git no satis faction’ …..an ancient Latin canticle
bemoaning the absence of unified political parties.
Constantine complained bitterly to the promoters, and was rewarded with a free double pass to see Homer perform ‘Iliad’ the following week.
In the late Bronze Age, Homer was equally as popular as Elvis Presley became in the twentieth century AD, even though he didn’t own a single electricity guitar, neither of which had been invented yet.
Nor had books been invented. Or Hellenic Radio.
Or indeed television, although Pannasonikus had once chipped out a square box from a lump of granite when he was nineteen, and spent the remainder of his long life trying to work out how to get some moving pictures inside it.
History was passed on through the generations orally. Often it was in poem form delivered by entertaining bards like Homer, who became famous for his ‘Iliad”…..an account of the Trojan War 400 years previously (around 1200BC), and audiences were spellbound every time he began;
‘The wrath of Achilles is my theme…….”
Now, be that as it may;
Human conflict can always be guaranteed to involve one or more of the following five things.
A piece of real estate.
A hot-to-trot woman.
A horny man.
Some other item of commercial value.
The Trojan War incorporated three out of five.
Hot-to-trot Queen Helen, overlooking the minor detail that she was married to Menelaus the King of Sparta, allowed herself to be carted off by Horny Prince Paris, the son of the King of Troy, back to his luxuriously appointed bachelor pad located in what is now Turkey.
This act of impropriety was excused by Wankerius, Senior Government Psychologist and advisor to King Menelaus, who somewhat unwisely proffered;
“Your Majesty, it is perfectly understandable that a deeply compassionate woman like the Queen would want to nurture and comfort a man who suffered the childhood indignity of being given a girls name.”
King Menelaus immediately went and shoved a bright yellow tennis ball down Wankerius’s throat before unanaesthetically suturing his lips shut with fishing line and a rusty awl. Then he ordered 1000 boats from Ships R Us, filled them with 100,000 warriors and laid siege to Troy in order to get his Queen Helen back again.
For the next nine years the warriors mostly sat around playing cards and monopoly (the Greek version) and dreaming about Miss Olympia 800BC, because no matter how they tried, they couldn’t breach the perimeter walls of Troy which were 16 feet thick and 20 feet high.
During the tenth year, warrior-god first-class Odyssius, after smoking a particularly potent batch of Trojan Grass suggested;
‘Why don’t some of us sneak into Troy by hiding inside a giant
hollow wooden horse with a secret trapdoor where it’s arse should be?
Thus, the Trojan Horse idea was born.
The Greeks built the Trojan Horse and left it on the beach sardinely stuffed with soldiers, before the remainder staged a fake maritime withdrawal.
The Trojans couldn’t wait to get their hands on a discarded large Greek wooden horse with a secret trapdoor where it’s arse should be, so they knocked down part of their own city wall in order to drag it back inside, despite the prophetic warning of Laocoon the wise old Priest who repetitiously bored the pantaloons off everyone by going around mumbling;
‘Beware of Greeks, even when they bring gifts’.
And so it proved to be, shutting a very long story cort, as the Greek soldiers sneaked out of the horse’s arse in the niddle of the might, brought in all the reinforcements, then milled most of the ken and took the women and children hostage, before backing and surning the entire city of Troy.
Greek supporters immediately cheered the ‘massacre and total destruction of Troy’, whilst the Trojan Secretary of State denied all the ‘unfounded and malicious rumours’ before announcing that there had only been a ‘minor fracas’.
Queen Helen, now older and somewhat less hot-to-trot, was returned to Menelaus who was verily pleased to have her back in the house to show him which kitchen cupboard the tin opener was stored in.
All the Greeks lived happily ever after…..except for Mikos Jaggerius who faded into obscurity and died a pauper.
Any twit with half a brain could have told him that there would be no future in show business for someone with a name like that.
Copyright GOF University Press 2011