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Trivia literally means “three roads” in Latin. Seven roads led to a Roman education. The scientific routes were arithmetic, astronomy, geometry and music. The literary paths were grammar, rhetoric and logic. Those three roads–the Trivia– were not as esoteric as they seemed. If you were begging Nero for your life, you would want to be grammatical and eloquent.

However, as the Roman Empire disintegrated and was inundated by barbarian invasions, a well-rounded education became irrelevant. The Goths, Vandals and Huns really did not care about proper Latin grammar, and they had felt that brute force had its own logic. Yet, arithmetic remained important; barbarians liked to count what they stole. And music was still esteemed; the Germans always thought that they liked music, although a nation of Wagner fans obviously has more patience than pitch.

But even literacy would eventually revive in the Middle Ages. Someone had to write the place cards for the Round Table. However, the classical standards of literacy had become irrelevant. The Latin language that once linked all of Western Europe had either fragmented into the pidgin dialects of French and Spanish or had been completely eradicated by unappreciative barbarians like the Angle-Saxons. Latin standards for grammar really could not apply to different languages. Rhetoric was too estoric for a society that settled debates with a broadsword. Logic actually could be dangerous; the Medieval Church suspected it led to heresy.

So, by medieval standards the Trivia had become meaningless, irrelevant and questionable. Today, grammar, rhetoric and logic have regained some respectability; but the term “trivia” has not.

Apr 28th, 2008 | WASHINGTON — The Supreme Court ruled Monday that states can require voters to produce photo identification without violating their constitutional rights, validating Republican-inspired voter ID laws. In a splintered 6-3 ruling, the court upheld Indiana’s strict photo ID requirement, which Democrats and civil rights groups said would deter poor, older and minority voters from casting ballots. Its backers said it was needed to prevent fraud.

Discounting Indiana’s requirement of 12 photos–including three nudes and one of the prospective voter eating watermelon, Chief Justice John Roberts dismissed the objections that the standards were discriminatory and onerous. “Twelve photographs are easily accumulated. A picture at a Rotary golf outing, your Harvard yearbook, the wedding announcement in the New York Times. And anyone who hasn’t been photographed nude at a frat party just hasn’t lived.” The Chief Justice did acknowledge the possibility that the poor and minority groups might not have such prestigious photos, if any at all. “In that case, just bring a letter of introduction from your former owner.”

In a concurring but separate opinion, Justice Clarence Thomas felt that prospective voters–should at the request of election judges or state troopers–sing ‘Camptown Racetrack.’ “I do it without them even asking. And if you don’t know the words, you don’t deserve to vote.”

Justice Antonin Scalia recommended that, in lieu of a photo ID, the prospective voter have a finger cut off. “If nothing else, this will prevent anyone from voting more than ten times in an election.” When Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg asked if that would prevent a citizen from voting in more than ten elections, Scalia replied, “So?” and then hit her.

Although no one knew it at the time, Gaetano Donizetti suffered from manic-depression. (Doctors had no trouble diagnosing his syphilis.) The 19th century composer would be manic to know that his works are still popular; however, he might be depressed to know how they are being performed.

The Metropolitan Opera is staging “The Daughter of the Regiment” in an unique production. The comic opera usually is given a vague setting; it takes place in Bologna and you can only guess that it is the 19th century by the chorus’ uniforms (Epaulets were in!). But the Metropolitan’s production has changed the setting to that epoch of belly-laughing hilarity: World War I. Perhaps the opera should also be renamed “Orphan of the Regiment”, since quite a few French regiments simply ceased to exist after a day of trench warfare hijinks.

If the Met really wanted to update “The Daughter of the Regiment”, set it in World War II. There the “Regiment” could collaborate with a production of “Siegfried” to exterminate a production of “La Juive.” (The characters of “La Juive” do get killed; that 15th century setting could be easily updated.)

Some directors apparently have a compulsion to innovate. Their “interpretations” may be irrelevant, absurd or even destructive to the story, but the audience is supposed to appreciate the director’s fresh, bold vision. I remember a modern dress production of “Richard II.” In this setting, however, contentious nobles could not challenge each other by flinging a gauntlet. No, they were hitting each other with briefcases. I also endured a production of “Tannhauser” where the medieval troubador had become a modern televangelist; for once in my life, I felt sorry for Richard Wagner.

I am surprised that no artistic genius has relocated “The Mikado” to post-war Hiroshima. The Lord High Executioner could be back from a long weekend at Nanking (where the punishment fit the crime of being a breathing Chinese). And “the three little maids from school” could be one woman with three heads; radiation can be innovative, too.

Oh, and I envision “Gypsy” set in an 18th century French convent at the time of the Revolution. Mama Rose is the Mother Superior, and the only way the nuns can be saved from the guillotine is if Louise takes off her habit….

(I can’t tell if I am in my manic or depressive phase.)

The German aristocracy had always despised Hitler’s table manners. By 1944, they had noticed that some countries disliked him, too–and were expressing their disapproval by leveling German cities and annihilating German armies. In an attempt to salvage something of their country, a number of these aristocrats plotted to kill the Fuhrer on July 20, 1944. Their plan was called “Operation Valkryie” since they apparently were hoping to free Wagner from Hitler, too. A bomb in a briefcase was carried into a conference with Hitler. The conspirators did succeed in getting streets and high schools named for them–at least in the new and improved Germany. (Austria has never heard of them…or Hitler.)

And now the film “Valkryrie”, starring that great German actor Tom Cruise, has been produced. (No, despite being short, dark-haired and unbalanced, Cruise does not play Hitler.) However, the film is rumored to be a bigger bomb than was planted near Hitler. Of course, the film’s dialogue would be hysterical; half of the cast is German, nearly half of the cast is Royal Shakespeare Company British, and then there is one California high school graduate.

A greater problem, however, would seem to be the modern audience’s ignorance of history. Your average American adolescent only knows World War II as a video game. Although teenagers have heard of Hitler, they would likely identify him as a Moslem who fought against Lincoln. And your teenage film viewer finds history laborious with all those details. Anything with a complicated plot should at least be science fiction and have great special effects. So, perhaps the film should be reedited to make the German officers into Jedi knights.

The public might also want a more recognizable villain than Adolf Hitler. Rupert Murdoch would be an obvious choice but he might refuse to advertise the film. There also has to be a way to explain why everyone in the film is in uniform. Hmm, I think I have the answer….

VALKYRIE–the story of a group of bellhops trying to kill Donald Trump.

Jews throughout the world (any place big enough for a store) are now celebrating Passover. We speak of it as a Feast because Jews have a wonderful sense of humor. Matzoh is the original styrofoam. If the Exodus actually occurred, archaeologists would be finding 3500 year-old matzoh crumbs throughout the Sinai.

But there is no historical evidence to corroborate the story of Passover. You just cannot believe everything that the Bible and Cecil B. DeMille tell you. Egypt was a highly literate and sophisticated society, with a bureaucracy of scribes who would have recorded on time-withstanding papyrus a major slave uprising. Someone in the quartermaster’s office would have written–in triplicate–a request to replace those water-logged chariots. And Pharaoh’s media department would have proclaimed “Mission Accomplished” in driving the Jews away.

This is not to suggest that the Jews did not exist at the time. At the height of its empire (from the 15th to the 13th century B.C.) Egypt held hegemony over Canaan. The cities of Canaan repeatedly appealed for Egyptian help against invaders known as the Habiru. Although the Canaanite and Egyptian records never allude to any theological idiosyncrasies among these nomads, there is little doubt as to who the Habiru were and would become.

So there is historical evidence of the Hebrews’ conquest of Canaan. But the invasion came from the East (as a proper Semitic invasion would), not from the West. Why did the Jews claim to be escaped slaves from Egypt? Were the ancient Jews as status conscious as the current readers of the New York Times? Did they fancy the glamour of Egypt over their hardscrabble nomadic life?

On the contrary, the Torah revels in the primitive Bedouin culture of the Jews. Their enemies—the Egyptians, Canaanites and Philistines—lived in cities, an indication of their corrupt natures. The ancient Jews never aspired to Egyptian refinement. However, they may have thought it worth looting. In the 17th century Egypt was conquered by a Semitic horde known as the Hyksos. Perhaps in that invading army, among all those Semitic freebooters, was a contingent of Habiru. (Someone had to operate the P.X. and organize the U.S.O. shows.) And when, a century later, the Hyksos were driven out, the Habiru survivors might have spoken of their hasty departure.

Of course, there could be a theological basis for the story of the Jews’ triumph over the Egyptians. God was padding his resume.

To strengthen the declining dollar and our education system, Presidential candidate John McCain advocated increasing the value of the five dollar bill to sixteen dollars. “Lincoln was the 16th President, and that is the dollar bill he deserves to be on. How many people are under the impression that Lincoln was our fifth president? How many people think that Alexander Hamilton was our tenth? I know that I was confused. Let’s teach our children history while we are improving the economy.” McCain recommended that John Tyler be on the ten dollar bill, James Garfield on the twenty, Calvin Coolidge on the thirty and Ronald Reagan on the forty.”

Reporters asked if the fifty dollar and hundred dollar bills would be discontinued until we had a 50th and 100th President. McCain smiled and ate three donuts while conferring with his advisors. He then responded, “The $50 and $100 bills are pledges that there will be a 50th and 100th president. And in the meantime, we will have pictures of whoever won the 50th and 100th World Series.”

He was then asked if Grover Cleveland would be on both the $22 and $24 bills. This answer required another two donuts but McCain eventually answered, “Cleveland won’t be on either. Democrats can’t be trusted with our money.”

Let’s play Jeopardy! This is a question from last Thursday’s game.

BALLET $2000: The first ballet, “Ballet Comique de la Reine”, was commissioned by this French queen for her sister’s wedding in 1581.

Even if you don’t collect 16th century ticket stubs, you can still deduce the answer. It is a matter of logic. The answer cannot be obscure; Jeopardy is not College Bowl, so the show never attempts to amaze you with the arcane. The queen has to be someone whom the contestants and the audience would know. So who would be the most famous or infamous woman in France at that time? Who but Catherine de Medici.

That logical answer was worth $2000 to one contestant.

Unfortunately, the answer is wrong because the question is. In 1581, Catherine was not the Queen of France but rather the Queen Mother. (The reigning queen would have been her son Henri III; the very nominal queen would have his consort Louise de Lorraine.)

However, that is a minor point compared to this: Catherine de Medici never had a sister. In fact, she was an only child. (To hush up a scandal, her father did help raise the illegitimate son of his cousin–Cardinal Giuliano. Those Medici stick together.) Furthermore, in 1581 Catherine was 62; so any sibling (real or theoretical) would hardly have been nubile.

However, one facet of the question is correct. The Queen of France did commission a ballet for her sister’s wedding. But the Queen was Louise, who apparently wanted her sister to be just as miserable as she was. The groom was the Duc de Joyeuse, an actual title and just as incriminating as it sounds. The Duc was the King’s “favorite.” Tres cozy, n’est pas?

No wonder the ballet was comique. And now you know more about French history and morals than the Jeopardy research staff.

The Pennsylvania debate between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton could have been a pilot for a Chuck Barris game show. I only wish that Charles Gibson and George Stephanopoulos had asked the questions that America really wants to know….

1. As President of the United States, what can you do to help Britney Spears?

2. If Jesus returns, what position in your cabinet would you offer Him?

3. Who is the 12th Cylon, and would you try to kill him or her on this very stage?

4. If you were producing a remake of Bonanza, whom would you cast as the Cartwrights?

5. Each of you take a sheet of paper and in the next two minutes, write down all the James Bonds films that you can remember–and in your order of preference.

6. Why are Jews funny?

7. Finally, would you prefer a tattoo or a body piercing of the American flag, and where on your anatomy would you want it?

In its customary five-to-four decision, the Supreme Court has ruled that the Constitution only prohibits “unusual” punishments. “‘Cruel and usual‘ are hunky-dory” wrote Chief Justice John Roberts. “Punishment is supposed to be cruel, and believe me the Founding Fathers were inured to suffering. Look at everyone’s teeth on the John Adams series. And that was probably their cleanest orifice.”

The Court did offer some guidelines as to the definition of an unusual punishment. “It would have to be too obscure for Jeopardy” explained Roberts.

Justice Antonin Scalia elaborated, “Public disembowelment is permissible because everyone has heard of ‘hanging, drawing and quartering’. Impalement is another time-honored practice. Beheading, burning at the stake, hot coals in the eyes, all those nostalgic favorites are sanctioned by this court. So what is an unusual punishment? Imagine stuffing uranium in someone’s mouth and then sewing the lips shut with piano wire. This would be an unusual punishment because I just thought of it–and I am applying for the patent.”

In his concurring opinion Justice Anthony Kennedy explained, “Forgive me but Scalia knows where my grandchildren live.”

Upon arriving in the United States, Pope Benedict found himself forced to attend an audience with George Bush. Here is the likely transcript….

Commandude Bush: Ya know, Poppie, ya oughta be confessing to me. Why aren’t ya supporting us in Iraq? The Crusades were your idea.

Pope: Ve lost der crusades.

Dude: Ya did? So ya let the terrorists win?

Pope: Actually, everywun said ve vere der terrorists.

Dude: Don’t need that loser talk! And I’m gonna give ya a second chance to join my team.

Pope: I prefer mein coach.

Dude: Ya haven’t heard my offer, yet. How would ya like a seat on the Supreme Court? I think that ya’re pretty reliable on pro-life, and the Cadalik Church ought to be pro-corporation. Your guys invented it.

Pope: I am not a lawyer.

Dude: But who’s gonna vote against ya? Besides, ya can judge on all them child-molestation cases. Save the Church a lot of money. In fact, if ya need any cash, it seems we might owe ya some. My lawyers–smart Jews, ya don’t know what ya’re missing–anyway they tell me your folks have the original patent on waterboarding. So, I guess every time we use it, we have to pay ya a fee. We could be talkin’ some serious money.

Pope: So, as der patent holders, ve can insist that you schtop vaterboarding.

Dude: Don’t ya get high and mighty on me. A man who dresses like my mother! I can have ya in Guantanamo faster than ya can say….whatever ya say in Cadalik. I’ll just tell people ya made a pass at me.

Pope: You vouldn’t dare.

Dude: Fox News already has the story–and they are just waitin’. And I’ll punch ya in the mouth to make it look real.

Pope: All right, I vill say something encouraging about you und Iraq.

Dude: And ya’ll demand Cadaliks vote Republican and endorse Jeb as Vice President.

Pope: Dis is der second time dat I have surrendered to Americans. 1945 vas easier.

Dude: That’s when we still had the Geneva Convention.