Taking The Peace

From time to time, a gathering of august Vikings assemble in the hall of Olaf their mountain King to decide who they deem to be worthy enough to receive a prize. Such awards are many and varied; some of them are presented to sorcerers, philosophers and alchemists who've successfully pushed the frontiers of knowledge and biscuit in their chosen fields. Some are awarded to those writers whose literary excretions have advanced the quality of refined readers who are able - or patient enough - to read it and pretend to understand its core message.

Among the more controversial donations of the Viking awards are the Peace Prizes, which historically have been given to those who - in the magic mushroom-crazed thinking of the Committee - have advanced the cause of Peace among the various warring tribes and kingdoms of the uncivilised Dark Ages world. One award which raised a few eyebrows was made a few hundred years ago to His Holiness Bugrake O'Barmy - the silver-tongued and shifty chieftain of the (as yet) undiscovered land of Ultima Thule. What was surprising about this particular prize was the fact that Bugrake had only warmed his chieftain's seat for five minutes, and hadn't even decided what he was going to eat for his lunch. The making of Peace is a truly mysterious and arcane process to the simple mind of this Cat.

Today it's been noised abroad through the eager services of the soothsayers that this year's Peace Prize has been awarded to the Holy Roman Empire (which is neither holy, Roman nor by any means remotely reminiscent of an Empire). As with Buggy's trophy, the reasons for this award are unclear. Since this Cat is a feline citizen of the lovely Northumbrian Kingdom - which is a mere vassal province of the aforesaid Federation - I can only suppose that every man, woman, child and cat has also made their own individual contribution to the this great award. This is quite puzzling to me, since I've torn the ears off many a youthfully over-ambitious neighbourhood moggy who's had designs on my territory; I don't think that's exactly contributed towards the Great Cause of Global Peace and Fluffy Understanding. Whatever.

His Infernal Majesty Emperor Joe Borracho will doubtless sail to the Nordic Realm to receive the honour on behalf of the mock Empire, and I expect he'll be accompanied by his dim-witted henchman Hermit the Rumphole, along with expenses-drawing legions of diversity co-ordinators and other assorted lackeys. Perhaps he's receiving it in recognition of his dismantling of the Holy Roman Empire Ducat, which has resulted in poverty, riots starvation and fishpaste in the land of the Ancient Greeks. If so, he and his mates richly deserve it. I've a little award I'd like to make him myself..