Many of you will know him better as Richard the Lionheart, although if we were going to give him a more accurate epithet for him would be Richard the great big fighty bastard who didn’t care about anything other than having big old fights and killing people, who was a really shit king. This is, admittedly, a slightly long epithet, which is why, despite a lot of effort on my part, he’s still known as the Lionheart and why people who’ve never studied any history at all, but have seen Robin Hood, think he’s all great and lovely and have no idea what an utter twat he really was.
Here are a few nice facts about this lovely king. At his coronation in Westminster, he said that Jews and women were not allowed in because they were shit. When some Jewish people came along to give him presents, he and his men stripped them, beat them and threw them out. This made the people of London, who were notoriously stupid, think that what their king wanted was for them to kill Jews. So they did. There was basically a huge massacre which he eventually told them to stop, not because he cared about the people who’d been killed, but because he wanted to go off and kill Muslims and if everyone at home was killing Jews, then there might be a bit of an upset and someone else might get to be king while he was off getting his jollies being a killer.
How long did he spend in the country that he was king of in total over a ten-year reign? Eight minutes. Well, probably eight months, but he didn’t like it here, didn’t speak much English and thought the only point of being king was taking lots of money from the country so he could go to other countries and kill people.
His brother, King John, you know, the bad guy i6541n all those Robin
Hood films, was not necessarily a good king, but he was better than Richard in that at least he bothered to be here and didn’t whinge about it being cold and rainy here all the bloody time.
Anyway, he died of a manky arm on 6th April 1199. He was crying like a baby in his mother’s arms and being all “it’s not fair!” Probably. He did die in his mother’s arms. And that’s Richard I for you. Crusader, shit king, killer of anyone who was a bit Middle Eastern and all round the most over-hyped king in history.
One final note which is true and tickled me a lot. A Bishop of Rochester wrote about him in the 13th century that he spent 33 years in purgatory for being a big old sinner, and then finally got into heaven in March 1232. There’s nice.
Today is the birthday of a few unimportants, but before I go on to one of them, it was also the birthday of my brother Bobby, who once sung about a crooked zebra to a small wee girl. Not me, by the way, as I was his big sister and never heard of the crooked zebra while he was alive.
Moving on. Today is also the birthday of a man who makes it hard
for all other gingers to be taken seriously. Yes, Mick Hucknell was born in 1960, go famous in the early 60s for singing a bit and having curly ginger hair and a very ugly face. He also liked to have as much sex as he could with as many women as possible, which is probably why he got into music, because frankly if he wasn’t famous he’d have been lucky to have managed the sex with even one laydee. He is 52 today and not doing so much of the singing and probably a bit less of the sex as he’s getting on and one imagines his willy is a bit bored and more easily tired these days.
Some of his songs were okay, but the man is such an unbearable wanker, that it’s hard to like any of them because you know that you’re listening to him and this whole cognitive dissonance thing happens and could lead normally sane people to a moment of self-harm. That said, at least he’s not Bonio off of U2.