Once upon a time, there were two cavemen. Og was the leader of the tribe, because he was bigger, stronger, hairier, and a good deal smellier than his chief rival, Gog.
"Being the leader is a very good thing," Thought Gog one day. "Og gets all the good things in life."
This was true. Og lived in a nice, dry cave. Gog lived under a bush. (Not a great place to be during the rainy season, but it was well ventilated and had a great view.) Og got to eat first after the hunt. Gog ate leftovers, which were pretty nasty before there were refrigerators. (One had to be careful not to be mistaken for an appetizer.) Og got to hang out with all the women. (Something about having all those muscles.) Gog hung out with the monkeys, who weren't much for conversation. To make matters worse, being the semi-intelligent tool-user he was, Og occasionally used Gog's head to crack coconuts by placing it on the ground, and dashing Gog's head against it.
One day, as Og was trying to open a particularly tough coconut, Gog's flailing arms happened to grab a loose branch, and by some miracle, the branch connected with Og's head.
"Wow!" Gog thought, using the half of the branch he still held to lever himself from underneath Og's unconscious bulk. "This thing could really come in handy!"
So for some time, Gog was the leader of the tribe. Every time Og came around, Gog clubbed him upside the head with a branch. Sometimes this took several branches. Gog got to live in the nice, dry cave. (Though it smelled unpleasantly like Og's old underfurs.) Gog got to eat first after the hunt. (Except once, when the mammoth turned out to be only stunned instead of properly dead.) Gog even got to hang out with all the women. (Something about having a great big woody -- ) Og lived under a rock. Og ate bugs. Og hung out with a skunk for awhile, but the skunk couldn't stand the stench.
One day, Og got fed up with all this, and decided to get a branch of his own, and take back his rightful place in the tribe. So he came up behind Gog and clubbed him upside the head with a small sapling he had uprooted.
For about a week of splitting headaches it went, one sneaking up behind the other and beating the other senseless, until Tuesday, when Gog happened to be downwind of Og as he sneaked up behind him. Gog spun around to clock Og a really good one, and instead whacked Og's tree. "Whack! Whack! Whack!" Went the sticks as Og and Gog, bent on mutual destruction, swung at each other and hit only each other's club.
And so fencing was born. (Og and Gog went on to settle their differences, proceeded to conquer the rest of the continent and make everyone else utterly miserable.)
The
Sport And Art Of The Sword
Chapter
Two: Through The Ages
Chapter
Three: The Evolution Of Fencing
Chapter
Four: Modeern Fencing
Chapter 5: Da Rules
Chapter 6: An Exercise Regimen
Chapter 7: The Zen Of Fencing
Back
to my homepage
Back |
Home |
Next |
© 1997 wf_arpeggio@yahoo.com
This page hosted by 
Get your own Free Home Page