- by Owen Morton
Well, it appears that I’m now doing articles by request, as evidenced by the fact that this article was requested by Sian, in the guestbook. Incidentally, Sian, did you know your name is not recognised by Microsoft Word as a word? I mention it only because it’s been underlined in red now I’ve written it. But anyway, here is the article. But if Miss Sian could keep her abusive Buffy-related comments to herself, I should be appreciative, or I’ll attempt to ensure that she herself suffers the same marmalade-style fate that she dreamt up for Buffy.
That qualifier used up, I’m not entirely sure in which way this article should go. In the guestbook entry, Sian said something to the effect of ‘could you write an article about the magical world of tuna? Ooh, bubbles’ so I suppose I should try to build off that, really, though I can’t actually see which way to go from it. It doesn’t really provide me with much of a springboard from which I can work. However, I’ll do my best. Ooh, but while we’re on the subject, Sian, didn’t you and Sarah say you’d write an article for the website about my evening out at Toffs?
Anyway. Enough delaying tactics. Article.
The above image is the underside of a tin of tuna. If I were stupid, which I most decidedly am not, I would also include a picture of the top of said tin, and if I were exceptionally stupid, I might be tempted to attempt to fit the tin into the scanner on its side, so I could obtain a picture of the side. However, as I have established numerous times, I am not stupid. Not even a little bit, before anyone starts arguing. The fact that I have not tried to fit a tin of tuna on its side into the scanner, I think, proves this. But I think I’m digressing.
The underside of the tin of tuna pictured above does little to emphasise the amazingly magical yet deeply dangerous world (yes, even more dangerous than Rock City on a Saturday night, which appears to be full of Goths and Marilyn Manson wannabes, with music to suit) from which this particular tuna has been liberated. The world it lived in was fraught with peril. But now the tuna is free. Yes, okay, it’s also dead, but that’s irrelevant, especially to the tuna, since it doesn’t particularly mind being dead. It may have minded being about to die, but once it was dead, it didn’t mind. I can’t believe I’m writing this drivel. But anyway, to get back on track.
The magical yet dangerous world of the tuna already mentioned is called Tunaworld, in a surprisingly inventive use of the powers of naming things which are inherent to all tuna. They are able to name anything using these powers. For example, you may think it was Newton who called gravity gravity, but in actual fact, it was a tuna who did so. It is the same for almost everything. According to the Bible, Adam was allowed to name the animals, but this would only work if Adam was a tuna. But then, we all know how accurate the Bible is. I mean, according to the Bible, God was a goody and Satan wasn’t – yet it was Satan’s agent that allowed humanity to actually develop by persuading them to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, and moreover it was only God being a right bastard that prevented us from living forever as well (Genesis, Chapter 3, verses 22-24).
But I think I may have digressed again. I was intending to argue that Adam was either a tuna, or the Bible was wrong. I think we can safely plump for the latter option. But anyway, tuna live in Tunaworld and daily face many dangers that would make people like you and I tremble. In Tunaworld, you see, there is a strictly hierarchical system of government. At the top of this hierarchy is the Terrible And Most Worshipful King Of All The Tuna, who rules over the entirety of Tunaworld. Beneath him is the High Priest Of The Holy Church Of Tunaism, who is responsible for the spiritual welfare of the people. Beneath him are all the King’s executives, who actually carry out his wishes. Beneath them are the High Priest’s bishops, who carry out the day-to-day religious administration of Tunaworld. Finally, beneath them come all the common tuna, who are oppressed under this system.
The reason Tunaworld is such a dangerous place right now is that there is great social upheaval. The common tuna have just heard about Marx’s ideas, and have named it communism, and think that it’s really quite a neat idea. Consequently, they are constantly carrying out all sorts of revolutions which are always countered by, uh, counter-revolutions. So Tunaworld isn’t actually the best place to visit right now if you don’t want to get shot by some zealous revolutionary tuna, or by some equally rabid monarchic reactionary (and probably Tory) tuna.
But besides its distinctly unstable current political situation, Tunaworld is subject to several natural dangers as well. Obviously, it’s underwater, so it’s pretty dangerous for any land-based creature or indeed for birds who visit it for an excessive amount of time (i.e. longer than they can hold their breaths underwater). But there are natural hazards which affect the tuna as well. Frequent volcanic eruptions make life very tricky for the tuna who live where the eruptions take place, which tend to be in such random places that they can never be predicted. In addition, Tunaworld is plagued by predators, such as the infamously evil Wazulfish, which will eat up to seventy tuna at a time. It can only be defeated by careful application of a certain plant, the Luzawroot, but this is extremely dangerous and usually results in the death of all parties involved, apart from the Wazulfish.
Yet Tunaworld is not all bad. It offers extremely rich cultural background and sports a fascinating history, which gives rise to many archaeological sites which can be visited for a fun day out. The Ancient Palace of the Terrible And Most Worshipful King Of All The Tuna, a beautiful monument to the power and majesty of the King, is open to visitors on Thursdays, except if the Thursday happens to be 25th May, the sacred date of the religion of Tunaism.
Tunaism is an interesting religion, in that it does not revolve around the participants worshipping some form of deity. Instead, they worship the tuna on their left. On 25th May, which is widely held to be the date of the creation of Tunaworld, all the tuna go to the Temple of Tunaism which is next to the Ancient Palace, to watch the High Priest Of The Holy Church Of Tunaism performing the time-honoured rituals, after which they all fall down and bow to the tuna on their left. Careful study of the sacred texts of Tunaism by the world’s leading theologians has failed to produce an explanation for why they do this, although several theories do exist:
1. The tuna genuinely think that the tuna on their left is the Creator, whoever that may be, incarnated, and act accordingly. They do not notice that the tuna on their right believes the same of them, because they are too busy worshipping the one on their left.
2. In the first instance of this ritual, one tuna misheard the phrase “worship the one who created you” for “worship the one who is on your left”, which sound very similar in the ancient language of the tuna, Tunaish. Everybody copied this one tuna, and in time the new ritual replaced the original, more correct, version.
3. The tuna do what they are told to do by the High Priest, who gains some form of perverse pleasure from watching them all do something so patently stupid.
However, no one really knows the explanation for sure. Tunaism is also interesting for the private prayer systems imposed on its adherents. Every Tuesday, all the tuna must go to their homes and stay there, in separate rooms and in dead silence, facing the wall on the left of the door. Every hour, they are permitted to give themselves a break from this penitence by shouting “Pink glittery sandals!” in as high a voice as possible. Any tuna who is perceived to be shouting “Pink glittery sandals!” in a voice not as high as possible, or indeed who shouts “Pink glittery sandals!” at any other time, Tuesday or otherwise, is liable to excommunication by the Holy Church Of Tunaism. This is a fate that all tuna wish to avoid, for excommunication means that the tuna in question must, in recognition of their sin in not regarding pink glittery sandals with the full respect they deserve, continue to shout “Pink glittery sandals!” in as high pitched voice as possible for the rest of their life. Any tuna who stopped doing this would have their skin confiscated. It is rare, although not unheard of, for an excommunication to be rescinded, in which case the tuna would be allowed to shout “Pink glittery sandals!” once in their chosen manner, after which they could return to the pattern of regular Tuesday worship. Again, the reason for the Tuesday worship remains shrouded in mystery, and no tuna seems to be willing to explain it.
Right. Having written that tremendous amount of rubbish, I hope Sian is satisfied with the response to her requested article. I’m at a slight loss to try and work in the comment “Ooh, bubbles” so I’m not even going to make the attempt. And I will now remind Sian that a) she and Sarah owe me an article, and b) in future, she must keep her anti-Buffy comments to herself.