Ugg, Lugg and the turnip…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s heraldic term is Livery – the uniform worn by the lord’s retainers, made in his colours.
My retainers refused to wear my livery, they said they didn’t like the shades, so I fired the lot of them – bloody peasants!…

‘Ugg… Ugg!…’
‘Grab your new flint axe – we are going out.’
‘Oh?… Where to?’
‘I told the lads that we’d give them a hand chopping up Thursday’s mammoth.’
‘Oh Lugg, actually I was thinking about staying in the cave today.’
‘Yes, anyway, you know that I don’t care for all that hacking, and all the blood and stuff – it takes me ages to get it out of my hair, and from under my fingernails.’
‘Well Ugg, it’s about time that you did your bit for the tribe. Get up off your lazy arse and grab your axe, or I’ll give you a good whack on the head with my… What’s that you are doing?’
‘I’m working on something Lugg.’
‘No you’re not, you’re just sitting making marks in the sand with a stick!’
‘Yes, but I’m thinking.’
‘What about?’
‘About the moon.’
‘The moon?’
‘Hm, it’s very interesting.’
‘No, it isn’t! Come on, pick up your axe!’
‘No, really Lugg…’
‘Look Ugg, Thrugg, the Great-Wise-Man, told us all about the moon ages ago.’
‘Yes, but what about the crescents?’
‘What about them?’
‘Well, sometimes it’s crescents, sometimes it’s big shiny round moon, and sometimes it disappears altogether.’
‘Thrugg says crescents are Sky-God’s horns when he’s angry with us, and when Sky-God forgives us he becomes shiny and round…’
‘What happens when the moon disappears Lugg?’
‘I think Thrugg said something about Sky-God having a nap.’
‘A nap?’
‘Yes Ugg, you see, we are all just little things in Sky-God’s dreams…’
‘Oh, so why do we leave coloured pebbles, shells, and virgins out on the top of the hill every month then?’
‘It’s to make Sky-God come back – he reveals his horns to us as he wakes up.’
‘Lugg, what do you reckon Shrugg, Spugg, and Nugg think of all this?’
‘Shrugg, Spugg, and Nugg? Who are they?’
‘They are Great-Wise-Man Thrugg’s wives Lugg.’
‘Thrugg doesn’t have any wives! It’s forbidden by Sky-God!’
‘Anyway, I was thinking about the moon…’
‘Come on out with me Ugg, they’ll be slitting the mammoth belly open soon, you don’t want to miss that, do you?’
‘You see… if you sit in the back of the cave in the morning, when the sun shines in through the door, and you hold up a piece of round fruit… like this turnip…’
‘A turnip – where did you get that?!’
‘Oh, Spugg gave me it… You see, as the light catches the side of it, the shape it makes looks just like a crescent…’
‘I thought that you said Spugg was Thrugg’s wife?’
‘Oh, don’t bother about all that Lugg, I think that the moon is a ball, like a great big slow-moving shiny turnip…’
‘You are an idiot!…’

And so cosmology was invented…

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, brain, colours, conversation, dreaming, heraldry, history, humour, information, learning, magic, mind, physics, religion, surrealism. Bookmark the permalink.

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