Librarians eaten.

I hate this stuff.

What they think they're doing: Showing that "different" things aren't scary.

What they're actually doing: Showing that heroic men are idiots.

Here's the deal: Dragons are mythical creatures intended to be scary, even if they are good, as in Chinese mythology. A cuddly dragon is a non-dragon creature of some other kind. That's the point of dragons. 

I'm sick to death of dragons being the good guys. Dragons want to eat us. Dragons are no good for human companionship. Dragons suck. Boo dragons. Leave them alone.

Where did it start? Ogden Nash's "The Tale of Custard the Dragon," about a cowardly dragon (who does in fact eat a human)? Anne McCafferty's Dragonriders of Pern series? Wherever it did, we find now that the world is on its head, that the dragons are always (surprise!) good and the guys who want to take them out bad. Whether it's Dragonslayer, Dragonheart, How to Train Your Dragon, it's hard to find a dragon in fiction that's not the good guy. It's like finding a police office or priest in fiction who is the good guy, especially if he's white and male -- like finding hen's teeth.

It's all part of the crap that gave us Wicked and all the new Disney pictures that root for the bad guy. (As long as the bad guy is, you know, a girl -- Captain Hook and Gaston remain bad.) The ladies are just misunderstood, you know. Men were mean to them, probably. That's why they're bad. 

Or maybe they're just power-hungry crapweasels. I don't care what made the green babe mad in Oz; if she sends a pack of wolves to rip up a little kid, kidnaps her with terrifying flying monkeys, and threatens to slaughter the little girl when the sand runs out of the hourglass, to hell with her. Drop a freaking house on her. SHE'S THE BADDIE. How she got that way is irrelevant; she chose her path. 

As Germán Saucedo wrote recently in First Things:

The clear images of true evil present in the best fairy tales, ballads, myths, and legends offer both a vision of what is to be avoided at all costs, as well as a vision of virtue. As such, the “sympathetic villain” genre is a symptom of a society that disagrees on what is good and what is evil, or that tries to explain evil away as trauma, psychopathy, or pathology. But to identify and avoid evil, we must first learn to recognize the good. The insistence on subverting villains is a sign we have lost confidence in our belief that we can know what heroism looks like, a heroism that displays the good that would oppose their unrighteousness. In a world without any moral certitude or any agreed upon system to define true virtue, what is wickedness anyhow? It would be just a matter of perspective.

In this light, we see that stories like this tell us a lot more about the storyteller than they actually do about good or evil. 

One dragon story that takes a more serious approach to the topic was based on Fred Saberhagen's Swords books, which I discussed here last year. An Armory of Swords features stories by other writers about what happened to various normal people whose lives were touched by the mighty god-forged Swords that were circulating the world. In "Dragon Debt" by Robert E. Vardeman, my favorite story in the collection, a young man comes into possession of Dragonslicer, the Sword of Heroes... and also a small, helpless baby dragon. A moral dilemma ensues in which the stakes are not small. 

The point of dragons is that they're dangerous, and dealing with them requires valor, not tea and cookies. Pretending they are all nice and lovely is just pretending that there is nothing really dangerous in the world, which we know is false. As C.S. Lewis wrote in the essay "On Three Ways of Writing for Children," "Since it is so likely that they will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker."

Meanwhile, the librarian type in the meme above are the sort who expect their native goodness to make everyone but the genuinely evil side with them -- and when people don't, they go on TikTok demanding the ruin of their lives. 

I've had it with dragons, but when the one pictured above turns on his bookworm buddies and eats them, I will offer him a mild nod. Not that I want the wicked dragon to win, but smugness and stupidity must be punished if we're to understand why these are bad things. 

A tragic rime.

 

Saga of the Homophones

Or, Long Knight's Journey into Daze

By Fred Key, Righter

Knight fell slowly on the town

And it hurt him on his knee.

A boulder knight no one could know

It tripped him up, you see.

“This rock has merely hurt my pride;

My hart is much more pained.”

Indeed the dear looked shaken as

He wobbled off, half sprained.

“Sad knight,” his squire said to him,

“Despair misaimed your boot.

I’m saddened to my sole for you!

How sorry is my foot!”

“Alas, the pain is all too reel,

A fishhook in my heart.

It lands my fate I know not wear!

I rend my clothes apart.

I love the Princess Jezebel

If I may bear my sorrow.

The sorrow growls, shows its teeth,

And haunts me for the morrow.

Ah, Jezebel! Beloved one!

Such a gorgeous site!

Yes, her castle is quite nice,

And she’s a bit all right.

I sought to woo her to be mine

I brought a bunch of flours.

The sacks all busted on the way!

Was sweeping up for hours.

Covered as I was I thought

To play a dashing roll.

Alas, she’s gluten-free these days!

She shunned me, on the hole.

When I climbed out I wrote a note

With finest stationary

The note, I fear, I could not send!

Stuck to my reliquary!

I made a book of poems for her;

Enclosed it in a phial.

But all the pages jammed in there

So it was not worthwhile.

Once more I leapt upon my horse

And took him by the rain

Which meant I had to shower off

That horse is such a pain.

At last I rode once more to her

And to her castle peek

I found my interest peaked in her

As in her bath I sneak.

Once more disaster struck, for she

Whose love I tried to steel

Had me tossed out upon the tush

And that raised quite a wheel.

I rolled back home and now I sob

Thwarted in love thrice.

What a scandal! What a waist!

And the rest of her was nice!

You clearly see me in such pane

All riven by love’s wars!

And thus my tail is at its end.”

He pointed to his drawers.

“Such a poem of -- whoa!” the knight

Herd from his faithful flunky

While chasing off a pesky flock

Of sheep who all smelled funky.

The squire said, “A lesson, lord,

Is learned by eye or ear.

And yet ignored, for it is said,

You can’t get there from hear.”

✍🏰🐑

Tricky day for knight.

 

Sir Ringo.

I was mildly surprised and a little amused to see that Ringo Starr is getting a knighthood.

Do I think he deserves it? I don't think any pop musician deserves it, or I would feel that way if it were still an award that had anything to do with personal and national honor. For a long time that hasn't been the case.

Not that I want to go slaggin' on Ringo. Like a lot of people I have a soft spot for Ringo. For decades he didn't get the respect he deserved as a drummer -- but may have gotten more than he deserved as a singer, so maybe it was a wash. I have always liked "Photograph," which he sang with that classic Ringo sorrowful twang, and even dopier songs like "Sunshine Life for Me (Sail Away Raymond)," "Goodnight Vienna," and "Down and Out." His version of "Drowning in the Sea of Love" is great, if you don't listen to Joe Simon's original. On the whole I approve of Ringo, doubly so because he wasn't a pretentious git like some other Beatles I could name who wrote the worst song every written, called "Imagine." Just saying.

Ringo also had something of an acting career beyond the movies he made as a Beatle. He starred in 1981's Caveman with Dennis Quaid and Shelley Long, which... Well, it sucked. He starred with Peter Sellers in The Magic Christian from 1969, which has a cult following but is an object lesson in how unfunny comedy was in 1969. (Satire is still what closes on Saturday night.) And of course he played a dual role as Ringo Starr and his doppelganger Ognir Rrats in the 1978 TV film Ringo. 

Ringo's cameo in 24: Live Another Day

If Paul McCartney could get a knighthood, and he did twenty years ago, there's no reason Ringo couldn't get one. Paul claims to have lobbied for Ringo's honors, but I have my doubts. Why would it have taken so long? George Harrison would certainly have gotten one if he hadn't died in 2001, and John Lennon as well, even though Lennon wrote the worst song ever written. (Which is "Imagine.")

Personally, I think Paul was dreading this day, perhaps lobbying against it, knowing that Ringo would be calling him all the time after he got the knighthood.

"Hey, Paul. Is there some special club for us knights, something nice with a swimming pool?"

"No, Ringo, I don't think so, mate. I have to---"

"Oh, see, I thought for us knights the queen might have some special place to, like, hang out, you know? Have tea or something."

"Not that I ever heard of."

"Are we allowed to just go up and knock on the door at Buckingham? Us being knights? You know, walk on up and ring the bell and say, 'Just in the neighborhood, thought we'd stop in and see Mum'?"

"No, Ringo, probably not a good idea. I think I hear Nancy calling..."

"Maybe if we wore armor? Did you ever get a suit of armor? Don't know where to get mine."

"You shouldn't need armor, but of course---"

"I thought about hiring some heralds, do some art for me, some rampant stuff, maybe with rings and all. Seems knightish."

"Yeah, nice."

"Say, you want to go jousting?"

"No, I don't want to go bloody jousting. I have to---"

"Can I get a free Wimpy Cheese Burger, d'ya think, if I show 'em me knighthood?"

"Good-bye, Ringo."

That's how I figure it would go down. Then Ringo will play the recording of the conversation at his next concert. That's what I would do, anyway.

Knights Anonymous.

Don: Hi, everyone, and welcome to this open meeting of Knights Anonymous. My name is Don Quixote, and I'm a recovering Knight.

All: Hail, Don!

Don: Let's read the preamble... Rodney?

Rodney: (reading) "Knights Anonymous is intended to help those recovering from knighthood, knight errantry, and knight missions. We have no affiliation with any kingdom, empire, or fief; have pledged no allegiance to any regent; announce no support for any cause. Our sole purpose is to recover from knighthood and help those in need of recovery."

Don: Thanks, Rod. As always, bear in mind that our program is anonymous, and our traditions insist that whatever one does or says here is confidential. And no dueling! Well, we have a small group here tonight. Rod, would you like to start us off?

Rodney: Oh, no, I shouldn't...

Don: Please.

Rodney: Oh, very well... I am Rodney, and I am a recovering knight.

All: Hail, Rodney!

Rodney: I was never really cut out for the knight shift. It just seemed like a good idea at the time, you know? But it became a knightmare. Back in Id, any gig that promised three hots and a cot put you way ahead of everyone else. And I always wanted to impress my girlfriend, Gwen. So I would pretend to be slaying dragons and stuff, when I usually ran away, or sometimes bribed them... Everyone knew, though. I was the last one to know I was a total coward, even when they called me "Rodney the Chicken-Hearted." Finally I got sick of being the king's flunky, and I was lucky enough to flee Id and find these rooms.

Don: Thanks, Rodney. We appreciate your admission of craven chickenhood.

Rodney: I know for sure today that I just can't handle knighthood anymore. Knighthood is fine for those who can take it. We make no judgments on that.

Don: That's right. How about you, Blackie? You want to go?

Blackie: Yes.

Don: Feel free.

Blackie: Very well... I AM THE BLACK KNIGHT! NONE SHALL PASS! THE BLACK KNIGHT NEVER LOSES!

Rodney: (sotto voce) Newcomer.

Blackie: WHAT'S THAT?

Rodney: Nothing! Nothing!

Blackie: It'd better not be or I'LL BITE YOUR KNEECAPS OFF!

Don: Blackie, maybe you ought to stand down.

Blackie: Is that supposed to be FUNNY?

Don: Why don't we come back to you a little later.

Blackie: I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm just not dealing with retirement well, you know? I mean, other knights go into recovery because they're coming out of delusion, or are abject cowards...

Rod: Mnmph.

Blackie: ...but I was brave! I was tough! My record was 65-0-1!

Don: Not sure about that draw, Blackie.

Blackie: Mnmph.

Rod: It helps to turn these things over to your Higher Power.

Blackie: Who, the KING?!?!

Don: No, no...

Sir Not Appearing In This Blog Post: Perhaps we should hear from the new fellow.

Don: Yes, you there! We don't wish to make thee, uh, you uncomfortable, but would you like to introduce yourself?

New Knight: Uhh... Not really, thanks; rather just listen.

Blackie: SCARED, are you?

Rod: Blackie, we don't want to make anyone uncomfortable... (ulp)

New Knight: No, no, it's all right. Hi. My name is... Lancelot....

All: Hail, La-- Lancelot?!

Lance: Yeah.

Rod: YOU? I mean, all knights are welcome here... but YOU?

Don: I think what Rod means to say is that, Knights Anonymous is for all knights who wish to begin a new life, but those who join are usually not so... so...

Lance: Successful?

Rod: Yeah.

Lance: Yes, I know. Greatest jouster, greatest sword fighter, bravest of the Table Round, slayer of the Worm of Corbin, slayer of this, slayer of that, slayer of the other thing... blah blah blah. But I'm... I'm...

Don: It's all right. You're among friends.

Lance: ...I'm the worst knight here! There, I said it!

All: No! No way!

Lance: Yes! Yes way!

Don: Now, just take it easy, Lancelot. You should hear some of our stories! Why, I jousted with windmills, thinking they were giants!

Blackie: I suffered grievous bodily flesh wounds in battle!

Rod: I got pantsed by the Huns!

Sir Not Appearing In This Blog Post: I didn't even show up for this joke!

Lance: Well, I...

Don: Come, speak, friend.

Lance: I, uh, slept with the queen, slaughtered a bunch of my fellow knights, violated my oaths, betrayed my sovereign, and brought death and destruction to Camelot.

(silence)

Crickets: Chirp.

Don: Ah, yes, well, Lance, that's a pretty rough story.

Lance: Yeah, I sucketh.

Rod: Holy cow.

Lance: So... Is it okay if I hang around for the meeting?

Rod: Uh...

Blackie: Er...

Don: Um...

Lance: I brought doughnuts.

All: Okay!

~here endeth the tale~