The Legend of the Blog

Once, in the ancient lands of Blogoria, there reigned a mighty poet. His mastery of words was so complete, he weilded almost godlike power over his fellow men. With the most exquisitely conjugated verbs, and sublime soliliquys, he defeated every mortal who dared stand in his way. Legends spoke of many duels, in which the best writers of the land would pit their poems against him. Even the great Verbor, a giant of a man and famed throughout the known world for his literary prowess, looked a vulgar fool at the tongue of the Poet.

With his dominance proven, the Poet rose to supreme power over the land. He ruled, not with an iron fist, but with a silver tongue. With peace throughout the land, he turned his attentions to the succession. Riding the length and breadth of the land, the Poet searched for an apprentice. The search was long and arduous, but his journey reached an end when he found the young boy, Simon, in the small village of Chippenham. A boy of noble character, he was selected to study under the Poet, and to one day take over the throne of Blogoria.

However, peace in Blogoria was not to last. Tales reached the Poet's court of an evil bard in a far off land, with powers rivaling his own. Legends have it, the Black Bard (for t'was his name), ruled with a malevonant tongue, hurling wretched profanities at all those who dared challenge him. The Poet knew he must defeat him, and he set out on a crusade to find and slay the Black Bard, and assert once and for all his right to rhyme over the land.

A vast army of elite nouns, verbs, adjectives and pronouns was summoned, stretching as far as the eye could see. With his minions, the Poet and his apprentice set off in search of the mythical kingdom of the Black Bard, Profania. For three years they rode, scouring the land for the rumoured lair of the Poet’s nemesis. But their toils were rewarded, and a chance encounter with an elf named Guite led them to the fortress of the evil poet. However Guite was not all he seemed, and he sent word to the Black Bard of the Poet’s coming. In response the Bard summoned his own army of foul expletives and obscenities.

The two armies met near Castle Profania, and battle was waged. The battle was fierce; the elaborate death cries of beautiful adjectives, and the vulgar cursings of dying swear words, could be heard for miles around. The Poet and Simon surveyed the battle from up on high, and with the balance slipping from their favour, they decided they must go confront the Bard once and for all. They rode to the castle, slaying the elite vulgarities that guarded it, and at the top of the tower, the Poet met his nemesis.

The duel commenced. The two wordsmiths exchanged their most poetic blows, and it was clear it would be a close fight. Both men grew weak; the vile insults of the Bard dented into the Poet's self-esteem, while his own sublime haikus left the Bard struggling to come to terms with his newfound admiration for trees. Then, with both men nearing their last paragraphs, the Bard struck with a killing insult, so evil and depraved that the Poet could not resist. He had been bested.

But as the Bard stood over his nemesis’ body, conjugating the one last sentence that would finish him off, Simon emerged unnoticed to the Bard. With an extremely humorous limerick, he caught him off guard, defeating the Bard in one fell swoop. The Black Bard was dead. Cradling his dying master, Simon listened as he spoke his last words. “You have served me well, my apprentice. Now I will pass on to you the source of my power; my secret weapon.” Surprised, Simon listened as the Bard gave to him the source off all his wordy powers. “I give you my name. Henceforth you shall be known as Charlie.” A great light shone as the name passed to Simon, and with that, the Poet was dead.

Charlie made a vow. He vowed to use the name and its power only for the noble purpose of procrastination. He left the castle, climbed back on his horse, and rode off to write the world’s greatest blog.