Burning questions answered...How did the Black Plague begin? Who is St. Fiona?
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Transcript
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Welcome back to another episode of down
to folk. Are you regretting our decision
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to move to weekly releases as much
as we are? I won't waste your
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time will all of this small talk. There are so many stories to be
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told, allegedly, so perhaps we
should start. But first some late breaking
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news. This podcast contains adult themes. shocker. If you are listening with
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children, it's too late. Sit
Back, relax and enjoy the show.
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On the tiny island of Sicily lived
a kind man and his kind daughter named
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Asha. The two loved each other
very much and he would give her all
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manner treasures from his business dealings around
the world. In the thirteen hundreds,
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it took longer to travel and of
course it involved ships. It was a
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lot to take on, but this
particular trip was going to be a tad
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different. You See, he had
found a wife. This trip was to
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fetch his new bride. Several days
passed before the young girls are our father
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again, and he looked most happy
as he held his new wife's hand.
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She was dainty, a hard feet. At that time in history, you
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kind of had to be tough.
Look, it wasn't like Conton in the
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D's, but you did kind of
have to be sturdy. You think things
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are real today? You don't know
shit about Shit Jins or whatever the fuck
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you're called. God It is my
anyway. So the stepmother was indeed beautiful
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and very obviously cultured. Perhaps she
had spent time in court? Oh,
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Senora, BUNCI or no, no, I'm so pleased to meet you,
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bunciurnal. Her new stepmother applied with
a smile that didn't quite retries. And,
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as if it wasn't an exciting day
to begin with, she noticed there
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were two girls about her age into
as well. She now had two sisters,
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Asha meets Stuggla and Stankia. Oh
so nunckle se exeed that, though.
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I'm so excited I could die,
but her enthusiasm truly would not last
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long. The next time my father
set out to ply his trade, he
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made it only as far as the
front steps before seizing up and collapsing.
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Since it was back before modern medicine, there's really no telling what he died
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of, though some speculate he died
of a broken heart. That's really stupid,
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though, considering he was getting laid
for the first time in years and
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his wife was beautiful, and I
hadn't turned into a total nightmare yet.
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Spoiler alert. Ash is hard,
however, was now broken, and I
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mean like shattered. Might as well
turn into a mosaic, because superglue ain't
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going to fix that and because some
people just like to kick others while they're
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down. This was about the time
her new stepmother, Hortense, began to
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change. She began to work Asha
like she was a servant herself instead of
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part of the family. She encouraged
Ashe's step sisters to mock her and call
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her names. They would make messes
just so she would have to clean them.
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Asha had to clean out their bed
pans and, as if it all
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wasn't terrible enough, she was forced
to tend to the fire as they slept
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to keep them warm. She would
often wake up to embers and cinders,
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and they began to call her Asharella. The years ticked by and the step
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sisters only became Nastier to Asha,
her stepmother only crueler before she died.
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Her mother had told her to have
courage and be kind. Her father had
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always taught her to be the bigger
person, but she simply couldn't stand those
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bitches, and so it was the
day the invitation to the prince's ball arrived
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at the House that her scheme began
to hatch. She must attend to that
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ball, but she knew better than
to ask her stepmother. She would just
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turn it into some horrible thing and
ultimately take it away from her anyway.
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No, she needed to go a
different root. She needed help. On
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the night of the ball, she
helped her preening sisters prepare, meticulously,
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styling their hair, straightening their dresses, retrieving and helping them balance upon their
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shopping. The three women left chattering
amongst themselves, never even bothering to look
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at the hurt and disdain in Asha's
face. ARIVADER CHI ASHORE LA, try
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not to get you desty. Asha
was feeming by this point, with hot,
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angry tears streaming down her face.
She ran and collapsed in the garden.
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I have to go to this ball, I have to, but I
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have nothing to wear. Suddenly,
as if a star gliding to the earth,
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a bright ethereal being appeared, glowing
and with beautiful sparkling wings. Hello
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Asha, hello, I know how
badly you want to go to the ball
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to night, but, as you
are now, you would never be allowed
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and so here I am Er.
Are You my fairy godmother? Yes,
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I am, and I've brought you
some helpers. She gestured behind her and
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a hundred little lies appeared. Are
they? Are they rats? Yes,
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the kind that make dresses for princesses
in fairy um their real life. Yep.
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Asha watched in amazement as the rats
piled on top of one another,
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scurrying and dipping and diving, and
in moments the most gorgeous gown that she
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had ever seen appeared before her.
With a wave of her wand her fairy
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godmother transferred the dress on to her
and made her look every bit as beautiful
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as the dress itself. Now,
Asha, you must listen carefully to me.
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You have only until midnight before this
aul disappears and you will once more
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be in rags. Now, hurry, girl, hurry. Asha took off
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running and as she entered the ball, standing atop the stairs, there were
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gasps in the crowd. She glittered
and shone, but though the crowd hummed
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about the vision before them, one
of her step sisters called out, wait
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a minute, that's just Asha.
She's basical arm made. She sleeps in
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the cinders. Asha was deeply embarrassed
as the audience began to laugh and point,
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the room began to spin and it
was like, okay, you know
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how in movies when some one is
really overwhelmed and you get those overlapping images
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that just mound de Mound till somebody
basically snaps. It was like that.
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And she let out a horrific scream
and, as if from nowhere, rats
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began to appear her, a hundred
dress making rats. They scurried through the
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throngs of people, many of whom
shrieked and hopped out of the way.
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They scrayed under dresses and up pant
legs. They were everywhere. Ashaw watched
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the terror with delight and as the
clock struck midnight and her gown fell away,
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revealing nothing but a servant girl,
she strode out proudly her little army
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of rats. How she loved them. One by one, they were struck
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down by intense fevers, hurling them
back and forth between the feelings of burning
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and incurable chills. Their vitality was
sucked from their bodies as each organ turned
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against them. Abdominal pains were fierce
and unbearable, each nose, mouth and
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Rectam in turn, began to pour
blood, the blood of pure vengeance.
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Their skin blackened, sores rose and, in turn, their extremities gangrened.
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Within ten days, not a single
soul from that ball remained living. And
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that, my friends, is the
story of how, in October of one
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thousand, three hundred and forty six
a kind girl who finally hit her breaking
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point. Magical dressmaking, rats and
pretty stalwart dickery led to the black plague
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devastating continental Europe. Wasn't that fabulous? Who doesn't enjoy an origin story hidden
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behind a thin veil of Disney?
I am honestly surprised that Chad didn't write
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that. Speaking of Chad not writing, the following story was submitted to us
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by one of those Electricia and Jaun
abroad's underlings. Excuse me, nchlings,
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I don't seem to have her name
in front of me, so I will
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call her Hamma. Why? Because
I'm Lloyd Warrington and I don't care.
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Although Saint Fiona o'shanege lived in the
tenth century, she remained largely unknown for
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centuries until she was discovered by two
college students. While they did bring her
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story to light, it was the
work of Professor Charlotte Gaskill, a pre
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eminent fiona scholar. That really made
Fiona earn the devoted following that she has
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today. Fiona lived her entire life
in the village Kincaid in Ireland. Gas
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Gill places her short life around at
the tenth century, although records are limited
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when it comes to determining the exact
date. Few on his path to the
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00:10:43.029 --> 00:10:50.019
contemporary, imagination started by chance when
she appeared in a vision to these two
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college students in a field behind their
dorm on a southern California campus. In
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one thousand nine hundred and ninety seven. The two young women had been sitting
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on their beds, laughing, chatting
about their day. There may or may
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not have been wine coolers involved.
It was the S, so it was
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probably Zeema and some jolly ranchers.
One of them was trying to work on
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homework from her poetry class. The
other had picked up a photo album that
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contained old family photos and a yellow
scrap of paper fell out. Funny she
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hadn't noticed it before. The scrap
of paper contained a few simple words.
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Look to the sky and you will
find her. The two women looked at
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each other and one said well,
you don't want to disobey at mysterious scrap
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of paper. And they got up
and went outside to this small field behind
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their dorm. They trudged up a
small hill through the dry brown grass.
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It was southern California, after all. In southern California is really good at
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having things that are just brown,
neglecting to remember that it had been a
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rainy winter that had caused hidden holes
in the dirt. One of the women
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promptly stepped in a hole that ended
up caving in and plumbing her down ten
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feet into a twisted heap. Her
friend dropped to her knees and reached down,
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but the drop was too far and
loose dirt threatened to make the whole
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swallow her up as well. She'd
have to run for help. But before
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she did that, her crumpled friend
said look, it's beautiful, as she
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pointed up with the Constellation Orion,
and that's when both women saw the image
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of Fiona floating briefly in the sky
above them before she disappeared. She said,
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my name is Fiona O Shaneggy find
professor gaskell. Tell her that she
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can look to my beloved Orion to
find me. Please, my story must
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be told. The women took a
moment to absorb the vision before the one
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at the bottom of the hole started
screaming bloody murder, because it turned out
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that she had broken her leg in
a bunch of plazes and a jagged edge
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of of the bone was sticking out
through the skin of her calf in a
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way that definitely shouldn't be possible.
She ended up having to get the leg
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amputated, but the good news is
the hospital had good dial up. It
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was ninety seven and while her friend
was visiting, they were able to use
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Altavista to find Charlotte guest cow.
They sent her an email which eventually led
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gascow to uncover the story of the
remarkable Fiona Oceanegy, the woman who had
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evidently become the patron saint of drunkard's
poets and star Dazers. Fiona was most
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known for popularizing the Constellation O Ryan
in Song and verse. Unfortunately, most
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of her songs have not survived over
the centuries, as they were destroyed shortly
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after her tragic death at the tender
age of twenty three. And after her
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death, Fiona's ideas were found to
be against those held by the Catholic Church.
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This led to her eventual excommunication and
the destruction of most of her work.
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Fioda wrote extensively in her journal about
the equality that existed between women and
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men. These private journals were found
by her uncle shortly after her death.
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00:15:01.850 --> 00:15:07.399
Unfortunately, he passed them to the
church, thinking this is what Fiona would
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have wanted due to her extreme devotion
to God. Although this is what led
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to the destruction of her writings,
brief glimpses of Fiona's life and ideas live
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on through the writings of her uncle
and a recently discovered poem written in Code
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About Orion. After handing over the
journals to the church, Fiona's uncle was
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so moved by his gifted niece that
he put down his own thoughts on her
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writings in his journals and his letters. Fiona had learned to write in secret
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from her brother, who was four
years her senior. Very few women were
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00:15:54.730 --> 00:15:58.529
allowed to write at this time in
Ireland. Ever since she was a child,
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Fiona was fascinated by everything around her, in nature and in the human
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spirit. Fiona would often wander around
at night looking up at the stars,
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and Oriyan came to be her favorite
constellation. In a letter to her brother,
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she remarked something so beautiful must surely
be a gift from God. From
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00:16:26.710 --> 00:16:33.860
gaskell's research thus far, it is
estimated that Fiona wrote is seventeen poems and
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six songs about it. Several of
her songs were turned into drinking songs by
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the locals that she had helped when
they passed out drunk in one of the
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many local pubs. Because Ireland,
and as a devout Catholic and the daughter
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of two parents who loved to drink, Fiona felt it was important to help
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00:17:00.450 --> 00:17:06.200
those less fortunate than her, and
this of course, included the town drunks.
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As for her fascination with Oriyan,
that that's what eventually killed her.
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One night she was out wandering through
an open field admiring her favorite grouping of
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Stars. She never saw the old
unused well below her feet and plunge to
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the bottom where she broke multiple bones, including a bone the coincidentally, poked
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through the skin of her calf.
Nobody knows how long she was there.
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They found scratch marks on the side
of the well, like she had tried
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to drag her mangled body up the
slick walls. Imagine it. There she
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has, dark alone in the bottom
of a well. She probably looked just
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like the check from the ring but
with, you know, more broken bones.
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But anyway, gaskell guesses that she
may have tried multiple times, only
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to be thwart it by the water
that dripped down the sides of the old
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well, making it impossible to gain
a grip. Each time, her body
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would be plunged back into the painful
heap at the bottom. We know this
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from documents gaskell found about the tragic
death of a young woman around the time
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that Fiona lived. The most remarkable
thing about the scene was the position of
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the body. FIOONA's head tilted up
as if to take one last glance from
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Earth at Orion. This is what
helped gaskell to connect the account of this
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00:19:03.920 --> 00:19:11.230
woman's death to Fiona's story. The
last that anyone had heard from Fiona prior
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00:19:11.349 --> 00:19:17.349
to her death was that she said
to her brother before she left on that
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00:19:17.589 --> 00:19:22.069
fateful night. She told him that
she was going to look at her beautiful
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00:19:22.190 --> 00:19:30.259
Orion that God had given her and
all of the world. And several years
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00:19:30.339 --> 00:19:37.730
after her excommunication, a man that
she knew when she was a child became
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the pope. He had remembered the
wonderful soda bread that Fiona had made,
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as well as the stimulating philosophical conversations
and in poetry and the mangled body at
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00:19:51.930 --> 00:19:57.039
the bottom of the well, and
he figured that maybe maybe she was not
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00:19:57.160 --> 00:20:03.119
as bad as the church originally had
said she was, and his first official
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00:20:03.160 --> 00:20:10.589
act as the pope was to see
Fiona's canonization. Even though she was canonized,
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Fionna's story faded into obscurity, where
she would remain until she was discovered
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00:20:18.710 --> 00:20:22.500
in one thousand nine hundred and ninety
seven. Ever since then, her feast
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00:20:22.539 --> 00:20:33.259
day is celebrated every year on April
first with Soda Bread, drinking, poetry,
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00:20:33.380 --> 00:20:45.769
writing and starcasing. This concludes another
archay episode of down to folk.
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00:20:47.369 --> 00:20:52.240
Ariel cooksie of malice wrote and performed
our classic Black Plague Story. The Legend
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00:20:52.319 --> 00:20:57.920
of Saint Fiona was written by our
intern, Stephanie Hammawold. Miss Hammah is
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00:20:59.160 --> 00:21:03.670
f your nasty distribution is still provided
by the pod fix network at pod fix
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00:21:03.750 --> 00:21:14.029
networkcom. DTF storiescom is the website
DTF stories. On social media, Yarda
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00:21:14.109 --> 00:21:18.700
Yada, there is a patreon and
you can also support the show at cofeecom.
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00:21:19.579 --> 00:21:25.539
You know what? All this is
too confusing. Go to DTF STORIESCOM
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00:21:25.700 --> 00:21:30.180
and figure it out yourself. We
are all adults here and there are most
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00:21:30.339 --> 00:21:36.609
certainly no highly advanced artificial intelligence clones
here. Isn't that right? Chat,
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00:21:37.170 --> 00:21:41.930
that is correct. No clones here. On behalf of the Ministry of augmented
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00:21:41.130 --> 00:21:53.279
something, something and a k.
This is Lloyd Warrington signing off. You've
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00:21:53.319 --> 00:21:57.319
been listening to a podcast of the
pod fix network. Discover more audible gym's
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like this at pod fix networkcom.
Make sure to catch up to the minute
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Artist own the love