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May 21, 987:  Nothing Could Be Finer Than To Be a Carolingian in Mourning

On this day in 987, King Louis V–known as the Do-Nothing–did not live up to his name. In fact, he did not live, and so finally accomplished something. So ended his one year rule, his twenty-year life and his 236-year dynasty. He, the last of the Carolingian kings of France, was beset by foreign invasion (the Holy Roman Emperor, his first cousin) and rebellions by the nobles (second and third cousins). Louis really did not get along with anyone in his family; his mother poisoned him.

So, that leaves you with this question: Which French King did inspire the song “Louie, Louie.” Well. let’s consider all the Royal Lou’s of France and which one would be an oversexed stoner.

Louis XVIII could have used a mistress. He disliked his Italian wife but his chief outlets were self-pity and food.

Louis XVII was merely a child when he died. The French Revolutionary guardians did take meticulous care of the young boy–but definitely not for his benefit.

Louis XVI suffered from sexual dysfunction–and Viagra wouldn’t have helped. It was some sort of physical blockage. The only solution was surgery. Despite the quality of 18th century surgery, Louis survived the procedure and was even cured. He finally was able to consummate his marriage. However, that was also the limit of his libido.

Louis XIV was short, unattractive but apparently irresistible. (Royalty frequently is; who dares refuse.) There is a famous story of the Queen, and three of her ladies-in-waiting riding in a coach; they were all pregnant by Louis (although not from the same coach ride). So Louis was certainly was over-sexed but he still found the time to rule rather well. And he never would have referred to Versailles as a pad or crib.

Louis XIII had a very active sex life, but not with women. What is the male equivalent of a mistress? (Historians can only speculate as to the identity of Louis XIV’s father.) Louis Treize was the Baroque equivalent of a stoner. Fortunately for him and France, Cardinal Richelieu made a brilliant dealer.

Louis XII had three wives, so he wouldn’t have had time for mistresses.

Louis XI was too cheap to have mistresses.

Louis X died young; he was likely poisoned by a sister-in-law who managed her husband’s career. (Yes, he got to be king.)

Louis IX was Saint Louis, so mistresses are out of the question.

Louis VIII was married to a Spanish gorgon; he wouldn’t have dared.

Louis VII had the disposition of a monk. His first wife–Eleanor of Aquitaine–cheated on him.

Louis VI was known as Louis the Fat. Guess his vice.

Louis V, alias the Do-Nothing, you’ve already met.

Louis IV, alias Louis the Alien (he was raised in England), was so powerless that he couldn’t afford a mistress.

Louis III died at 19, so he didn’t even have a nickname.

Louis II, the Stammer, lived to be 33 but his health was as bad as his pronunciation. Even if he had been in better shape, late 9th century France was not a conducive time for hedonism. It was barely conducive for subsistence.

Louis I was called the Pious. That nickname would deter most aspiring mistresses.

So, who does that leave….Louis XV was handsome, charming and conscientiously incompetent. Usually the inept are unaware of their debilities, but Louis knew precisely how hapless he was and he didn’t care! He let his mistresses run and ruin France. (Madame de Pompadour was a complete disaster–or a brilliant secret agent for the British). If Handel or Haydn had composed “Louie, Louie”, the song definitely would have been about le Quinze.

In case you missed the obituary….

             POSITION TITLE:

Director, Enterprise Communications 

REPORTING TO:

Assistant Vice President

Corporate Relations

CORPORATE PROFILE:

The Allstate Corporation

Northbrook, IL

The Enterprise Communications function (in the Corporate Relations Department) works to strengthen Allstater engagement and drive alignment with Allstate’s corporate priorities. It accomplishes its work through a talented team of communication professionals and a best-in-class enterprise communications system – with cutting edge and interactive vehicles and timely and strategic content.

The objective of the Enterprise Communications function is to:

• Serve as a catalyst for culture change throughout the organization
• Provide strategic counsel to executives re: Allstater engagement, consistent execution of customer experiences and internal reputation building
• Ensure employees have a clear line of sight between their accountabilities and our corporate strategy and vision
• Drive understanding and alignment of Allstate’s vision, strategies and tactics with employees and agency owners, and to embed these principles in actions
• Improve Allstate’s reputation with internal stakeholders through strategic communications designed to enhance employee and agency owner engagement for Allstate’s vision, priorities and strategies
• Oversee communication channels for effectiveness and efficiencies
• Enable free-flow of information and dialogue throughout the company (up, down, sideways, outside in.)

AREA OF RESPONSIBILITY:In alignment with corporate goals, specific responsibilities for the Director, Enterprise Communications will include:

• Enterprise Communications Strategy development, integration and execution including specific work streams to inform and engage Allstate employees and agency owners with Allstate’s vision and strategy

             Ongoing delivery of Allstate and industry news, strategies and information

• Proactive management of emerging technology, social media and traditional communication vehicles
• Cross-functional integration with business units, Marketing, Government Relations, Investor Relations, etc.
• Developing and implementing best-practice internal stakeholder research to understand employee perceptions, alignment and expectations
• Embedding Allstate’s vision across the enterprise to drive understanding, and enhance loyalty, employee alignment and engagement with enterprise values, purpose and business goals
• Communications consultation with Allstate leadership on business actions and decisions
• Ensuring successful implementation of Allstate’s Living Archives
• Building and developing a best-in-class Enterprise Communications team

Let me summarize this:  the Enterprise Director will enterprise the enterprise.  You also may be required to feed the living archives. (Imagine the poor soul who has been ordered to memorize this job description.)

 The greatest threat to intelligible English is not immigrants or slackard youths: their pidgin mutations actually add a vigor that keeps a language alive.  No, the danger to English is from those who use language as a cryptic incantation, whose obscurity presumably measures its importance. 

We have come to expect this verbal opacity from government: bureaucrats would rather you didn’t know what they meant.  MBAs try to avoid the intelligible, for fear it might be incriminating.  Sociologists offer jargon when they have nothing to say.  Of course, the Human Resources, in its crusade to suppress any hint of joy and light in the world, torture language into an impenetrable code of verbational nounalizations.

Of course, if the Enterprise Director gets to wear a  Starfleet uniform, who wouldn’t want the job.

p.s.  Let’s not forget the historical significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/05/20/mitre-makes-righter/

My wife would like to send a sympathy card to Olivia de Havilland.  Last Saturday while we were playing television roulette with the remote, we alighted upon “The Adventures of Robin Hood.”  Karen had never seen the Errol Flynn classic before.  (You don’t ask a guy if he ever seen it; you ask how many times?  In my case, six or seven times.)  When Karen learned that the film was made shortly before “Gone With the Wind”, she felt such pity for Miss de Havilland, “Going from Errol Flynn to Leslie Howard.” 

Yes, on face value (and Flynn’s gorgeous face in particular) it would seem that de Havilland had a dismaying descent.  Imagine Maid Marion running off with Isaac of York.  However, Olivia was under contract, and in the Golden Age of Hollywood that contract was a gilded yoke.  She was expected to do whatever the studio ordered.  A musical comedy with Mussolini?  If that is what Jack Warner wanted….   

Between 1938 and 1939, Olivia de Havilland appeared in nine movies.  Four were with Errol Flynn; Warners Bros. knew a winning combination.  In addition to “…Robin Hood” and a trifle of  a comedy called “Four’s A Crowd”   together they won the West in “Dodge City” and she caught his lopped head in “Elizabeth and Essex.”  Miss de Havilland also made the  crime caper “Raffles” with a pleasant but still unknown British actor named David Niven.  And lest Katherine Hepburn have a monopoly on madcap heiress roles, Miss de Havilland played one in “Hard to Get” opposite the aging male ingenue Dick Powell.  (Powell hated his typecasting, and he actually looked forward to losing his looks and becoming middle-aged.)

She also costarred in two films with George Brent.  Mr. Brent was a popular leading man of the Thirties, and we have been wondering why ever since.  He has no allure or charisma, no dramatic depth.  Brent simply seems like a well-spoken middle-aged dullard.  You can imagine him playing a doctor in a Lipator commercial, but not as a romantic lead.  Today he is best remembered as Bette Davis’ costar in “Dark Victory.”  In that film, Davis passes up a charming rogue (Humphrey Bogart) and an adorable playboy (Ronald Reagan when he was still a Democrat) for this well-spoken, middle-aged drip.  Of course, her character was supposed to have brain tumor and it evidently effected her libido. 

And Miss de Havilland got to be in two films with him!

Suddenly, Leslie Howard doesn’t seem that bad.

New “Robin Hood” for Our Times

So the critics say.  If that is the case….

Oxford graduate Marion Loxley was the vice damsel of  Serf Resources at Bayeaux Tapestries but lost her job when the company relocated its manufacturing facilities to China.  As Loxley lamented, “Their silk is cheaper than our wool.  If the outsourcing and trade deficits continue, Genghis Khan will own half of England.” 

Robin Hood returned from the Crusades a bitter man.  “I have a painful case of archer’s shoulder, and you’d think a veteran was entitled to free leeches and bleedings.  Nope, the Crown tells me to go to a church and have a relic rubbed on me.”

In his campaign to seize the throne of England, Prince John is hiring village idiots and organizing them into a network of town criers.  Their chief job is to proclaim that King Richard is really a secret Moslem.  “It probably happened on the Crusades” exclaimed Crier Limbough.  “If he dares deny it, he has to prove that he is not circumcised.  And everyone should demand that proof.”

The origins of Richard’s mother were also questioned.  “What kind of name is Eleanor” warned Crier Becque.  “People who can read tell me that ‘El’ is Arabic.  And where exactly is Aquitaine?  I hear that it is mighty close to Spain, Spain where the Moors are!”

When told that alleged harem girl El-Anur was also the mother of Prince John, Becque dismissed that as only a rumor and “I don’t stoop to that.”

Today is the official feast day of St. Matthias.

I would tell you all about him, but the Church itself is rather bewildered on the subject. The Gospels are unaware of him, but he is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles as being chosen to replace Judas Iscariot–who obviously lost his tenure as a saint. The Church’s Board of Directors felt that it needed a 12th apostle. Unfortunately, the resurrected Jesus had failed to hire anyone; no doubt, He was preoccupied with packing for His Ascension. So, the Board of Directors picked Matthias (which is more than can be said for St. Paul).

And that ends the history. Of course, theological etiquette requires a few legends about him. For instance, the nature of his death is a buffet of choices. He was either killed by Jews in Jerusalem, pagans in Georgia or cannibals in Ethiopia. (The theological affiliation of the cannibals is unspecified; they could have been Christians who took communion too literally.) And he is also reported to have died of old age in Jerusalem–but that is too boring to be plausible.

Matthias at least is kept busy being the patron saint of alcoholics. If your life were a perpetual fog, you would want a saint in a similar condition.

May 12, 1191:  Richard the Lion-Heart Marries Berengaria of Navarre

We are still waiting for the marriage to be consummated.  Richard evidently was unfamiliar with the adage “Politics makes straight bedfellows.”  In fairness to Richard, he never misled that poor Spanish princess.  His mother did.   Eleanor of Aquitaine was worried that her 33 year old son had yet to marry.  He was King of England, a hereditary position, and heredity usually requires a certain physical exertion.  His younger brothers were married–even the gnomish John.  (Yes, his bride was the unwilling one.)  So Eleanor was determined to get her favorite son a wife.

On parchment (paper had yet to be imported from China), Richard would have seemed a great catch.  He was King of England and Duke of half of France: you had to go to Constantinople to find a Christian boy with a better resume.  Furthermore, Richard was handsome and chivalrous.  What more could a princess want?  Well, yes, apparently the princesses of France and Germany had heard about “that”.  But the royal family of Navarre either hadn’t or couldn’t afford to be choosy.  The smallest, most precarious kingdom in Spain could use the butchest son-in-law in Christendom, and so Berengaria’s troth was really plighted.

Richard, who had no compunction about trying to kill his father, somehow couldn’t disobey his mother.  All right… he would get married, but he wasn’t making it easy.  First, they had to find him.  Richard was off to the Crusades.  His last known address was Messina, Sicily.  So his 69 year-old-mother, with Berengaria in tow, arrived there in March, 1191.  Fortunately, Richard was still in Sicily but it was during Lent, and he wouldn’t think of getting married then.  But rather than wait a few weeks, Richard now was in a hurry to get to the Holy Land.  After all, there were Moslems and Jews waiting to be killed, along with any unfortunate Greek Orthodox bystanders.  However, if Berengaria was willing to tag along, Richard would find the time to marry her.  Perhaps, after he captured Jerusalem…or Mecca.

Eleanor no longer had the patience or stamina to goad Richard to the altar.  She returned to France, but Richard had not completely escaped the chiding females of his family.  The dowager queen of Sicily happened to be his sister Joan,  and she was quite prepared to organize a wedding in the Holy Land.  When Richard set sail, Joan and Berengaria weren’t far behind.  A storm struck the fleet, however, and the ship carrying the theoretical bride and the aspiring matron of honor was driven off course to Cyprus.  There the Byzantine governor–demonstrating why his cousin the Emperor wouldn’t  trust him in Constantinople–attempted to seize the royal women for ransom.  Of course, the chivalrous Richard had to rescue the two damsels in distress.  He incidently conquered Cyprus, too.   (The Byzantines would never get it back.)  What happened next defies explanation but would make a wonderful ad for Cypriot Tourism:   Cyprus–where even the unwilling get married!  Yes, on this day in 1191, Richard succumbed to formality.

Berengaria went along on the Crusade, perhaps mistaking it for a honeymoon, but soon decided to return to Europe.  At least, she now had the expense allowance befitting a queen.  France could be very comfortable for the rich and, of course, who could blame her for dropping by Navarre to flaunt her position.  Ironically, Berengaria never visited Britain, the only Queen of England with that unique omission.  (Of course, Richard was rarely there, either:  six months out of his ten year reign.)  The King and Queen had a platonic marriage; in fact, they rarely saw each other.    The Pope felt compelled to advise Richard on marital duties.     In similar circumstances other women might have  succumbed to therapeutic sins, but Berengaria never did.  She evidently was saving herself for Richard.

He died in 1199:  a minor arrow wound but a very bad doctor.  The widow was in her thirties, but she never was  interested in a second–or real–marriage.  Indeed, she would eventually join a convent.  As Mrs. Plantagenet, she already had eight years practice as a nun.

May 11, 1927:  The Studio Moguls Demand Respect–or as they would say “Fancy-Smancy”

Hollywood is one of the great and enduring success stories of America.  In 1906, the perennial sunshine of Southern California was conducive for shooting film and tempted a New York-based studio to open a west coast office.  Even then, filmmakers had a tendency to copy each other.  By 1915, most American movies were made in California, and an agricultural community outside of Los Angeles had become the center and synonym for movies. 

The world loved Hollywood’s films.  Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks by themselves ensured a trade surplus for America.  As for the producers and studio heads–Louis B. Mayer, Cecil B. DeMille, Samuel Goldwyn and others–they were rich and powerful but still dissatisfied.  Men of modest origins but not modest natures, they wanted honors and deference.  In another time or country, they could have acquired titles of nobility; but 20th century America had none to offer.  However, in 20th century America these producers were free to anoint themselves.  So they did.  On May 11, 1927 they formed a society whose chief purpose was self-adoration.  Grasping for prestige, the organization’s name was the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences.  Its first president–Douglas Fairbanks, himself–proposed some awards for merit. 

The first awards ceremony was at a banquet the following year.  Ten awards were given out in 15 minutes.  We would recognize most of the awards’ categories:  best film, best actor, best actress, best director, etc.  But there also was a prize for “Best Title Writing”.  Movies then were silent, and any narration or dialogue would appear on title cards flashing on the screen.  So, when the villain wants to have his way with Lillian Gish, a title card would express Miss Gish’s indignation:  “You cad!”  The first award for best Title Writing was also the last.  In 1927’s”The Jazz Singer” Al Jolson had turned to the audience and said aloud, “You ain’t heard nothing yet.”  The Hollywood film now talked.

The tradition of the terrible acceptance speech also dates to that first Awards ceremony.  The winner for best actor was Emil Jannings.  He was German but in silent films no one could detect his miserable knowledge of English.  The advent of the “talkie”, however, ended his prospects in Hollywood.  He actually was on a train out of town when the first Awards ceremony was held.  Jannings wired his acceptance speech, saying thank you and adding  “I therefore ask you to kindly hand me now already the statuette award for me.”

“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Lord Acton hadn’t written that for a Mother’s Day card, but it could have been appropriate. Royalty does not tend to make good parents.

On this day, we should pay special tribute to some of the worst mothers in royal history:

Being the sister of Caligula, Agrippina the Younger (A.D. 15-59) was brought up thinking that incest was a form of positive reinforcement. Unfortunately, her son Nero really did not need any further encouragement. Indeed, dating Mom may have spoiled him where other women were concerned. He had one wife suffocated and personally kicked to death a second–who was pregnant at the time. And he proved to be an unappreciative son; he had Agrippina murdered although he first attempted to make him look like an accident. However, most drowning victims don’t have stab wounds.

The Empress Irene (752-803) might be one reason that the Byzantines have a bad reputation. She had been selected in a beauty contest to be the wife of the Byzantine crown prince. (Doesn’t this already sound like an Aaron Spelling script?) In time, the prince became the Emperor Leo IV–but not for very long. His abrupt death at the age of 30 might seem suspicious. In any case, Irene became the regent for her son, Constantine VI. But, due to the inconveniently high standard of Byzantine life and medicine, Constantine grew up to rule in his own right–but not for very long. In 797 Irene had her son blinded and deposed; being patriotic, she was willing to occupy the now vacant throne. How did the world respond to this crime? The Pope sent his congratulations, and the social-climbing Charlemagne offered to marry her.

What happens when you have two children and only one kingdom? What is a mother to do? Isabeau of Bavaria (1370-1435), the Queen Mother of France, thought that there was a practical solution. Her son Charles was repulsive and powerless; her daughter Catherine was more likable and also the Queen of England, married to the repulsive but powerful Henry V. In fact, English armies were occupying half of France and Henry had forced the French to acknowledge him as the next king of France, following the long awaited death of Isabeau’s husband Charles VI. To Henry’s surprise, however, he died first. Then Charles VI died. That raised the question of who should succeed to the French throne: Isabeau’s son or her half-English grandson, Henry VI. Isabeau decided that she preferred her grandson, and then announced that her son Charles was illegitimate. She couldn’t deny his maternity–too many people had noticed her pregnancy–but she certainly could dispute his paternity. Isabeau declared that Charles VI was not the father of the French claimant, and so her son had no right to the throne. Of course, Isabeau was counting on a comfortable English pension for her efforts, but how many other women would confess to to being whores just to spite a child? (If disinherited by his mother, at least the dauphin was adopted by Joan of Arc.)

But let’s conclude this on an uplifting note: Catherine the Great (1729-1796) despised her son Paul and insinuated to him that his paternity was an open question; yet, if only out of etiquette, she could not bring herself to disinheriting him. I guess that makes her this list’s Mother of the Day.

May 8, 1794:  Lavoisier Observes the Effect of Hemoglobin on Steel

In other words, Antoine de Lavoisier was guillotined for treason. This may have been one of the greatest senior pranks, and certainly got the students out of taking their chemistry finals. Actually, “The Father of Modern Chemisty” never taught the subject; so he was not the victim of irate students. His vindictive enemies were the taxpayers of France.

Unlike a modern professor who would supplement his income by forcing the students to buy his books or by sitting as an unctuous cipher on a corporate board, Lavoisier earned money as an extortionist. Mind you, his racket was sanctioned by the French Crown; he had paid the government up front for his extortionist permit. The specific term for the racket was “tax farming.” A tax farmer would pay the Crown for the right to collect taxes in a specified region. The similarity of the words franc and franchise is no coincidence. The more money the tax farmer collected–no questions asked about the tactics–the more he got to keep. You might be surprised but very few philanthropists applied for the position.

Perhaps the squeezed subjects in Lavoisier’s territory should have been gratified to know that they were subsidizing his scientific research. It was not as if he was spending their money on luxurious carriages and young mistresses. Unfortunately, the French taxpayers might have been more sympathetic about that.