Castles. They evoke several qualities to the American public: Order, Chaos, stone, the Black Panthers, freedom, democracy and spires. There is mystery that always surrounded them. Why do they haunt the fever dreams of the maddest Architects and Archeologists? Why do girls cry when I ask them out? More importantly, why do we, truth-loving Americans, complacently accept one of the worlds greatest flim-flams?

Alas, Castles are products of mid-evil chronicler Jean Frossart's active imagination along with other exaggerations, such as dragons, chivalry, the hundred years war, his penis size, smallpox (Come on, its called smallpox), and the holocaust. The purpose of these apocryphal writings was to ward off the Vikings¹. And what good it did, right?

I have recently uncovered a 100% accurate illumination (fig 1.) along with some erotic barely legal allegories during an expedition to the annals of a secret lyceum tucked deep in deepest catacombs beneath the Heledrome. You can see, plain as knight (lol) that this is air-tight evidence to support this case.

In truth, castles were little more than stables. It comes from the Gaulish word: Caettli. Look familiar? maybe 'Cattle?'. To Guard a Caettlihoozen (gaulish) was the subject of jokes told by the resident Jester at cocktail parties. It was sort of a 14th century "Whats the deal with Airline peanuts?". Its reasonable that modern historians would be lost in translation as are under a shared delusion that the middle ages were devoid of any humor.

Caettlihoozen are mistakenly believed to be constructed from stone, another fallacy. Caettlihoozen, as typical mid-evil structures, were built of the popular materials of the age: Gingerbread². Candy-cane buttresses, gumdrop foundation, etc. I wont belittle your intellegence by stating more obvious facts

Today's castles are seldom constructed from stone or candy, instead they are built with exceedingly more durable and practical materials: Legos, foam puzzle pieces, and sand (fig 3).


1. My Noodle.

2. Hanzel und Gretel - Die Bruderen Grimm.

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You know, I've learned alot about spell-checking applications/plug-ins (etc) when I wrote this article. Unwittingly, the Spell-checker in firefox has followed the arrival of a recent install of Firefox, XP, or a virus consigned to coerce me into utilizing correct spelling.

First and foremost, whenever I misspell a word, fire-fox politely reminds me by underlining the culprit with a crimson dotted line. I have abominable spelling. For instance, I just spent two-three minutes respelling variations of abominable, it was likened to cracking Enigma. Whilst in better times I'd have simply ignored it, i simply cant ignore the entrancing red beads.

That brings me my other point. While it presents me with my mistake, it makes no effort to help me, unlike other spellchecking apps, which provide libraries of all sorts of stupid words. It just looks on, with a mildly-camouflaged grin.

One of the most heart-wrenching moments of the spell checking ordeal is when I'm amidst correcting a word: the red line temporarily disappears, convincing me I corrected it. Only to flush the toilet while I'm bathing in a hot shower of glory.

Akin to an overbearing father, it uses aversive conditioning in an attempt to have me enter high society and orbit socialites. The spell-checker often fantasizes about mingling, expressing anecdotes about brash art-deco works, and sympathizing with the NAZIs.

Yes, spell checker. Thats exactly what will happen... (sarcasm(?))
It expects me to invest hours correcting brief yet imperative email correspondences with my co-workers about Quake Ladders and Food Pyramids. Your tuition for your lesson could cost me my job. When I degenerate from a semi-literate street urchin to a word-smithing sea-urchin, I'll have you to thank.

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