Round the Herne

 According to Greek tradition, the very first truly theatrical performance was that of the poet Thespis at the first Dionysia to be held in Athens. Part of the celebration in honour of the god Dionysus, spread over several days, was a set of performances with a prize going to the best (yes, actors were hungry for Award Ceremonies from the get-go). Thespis stood up as the first act at the first such festival and recited a dithyrambic poem of his own composition. This style of poem recounted a myth, though it is unknown to all except a certain time travelling Doctor which sacred drama Thespis based his work on (though I have suggested a likely possibility in the story recorded below). There was nothing unusual in reciting poetry, but the innovation that Thespis brought was to have sections of his opus magnum written in the voices of the various figures in the myth and then don suitable masks and costumes to act out the parts. Thespis speaks to the power of masks - as Jung said, give a ma

 As some readers will already know my dear old dog Cafall passed away Tuesday earlier this week after a godawful visit to the vet. He was very old and doddery, but has left a huge gap. Considering how much of the last couple of years he spent asleep, the silence is pronounced and difficult to live with. He was named after King Arthur's dog from Welsh legend. So as a memorial to him, I have recorded a shortened version of the account of how seven monstrous wild boars laid waste first to Ireland and then to Wales, causing a variety of significant landscape features, before being dispatched by the warriors and war dogs of Arthur. Some authorities regard this as a metaphor for a brutal warband that came over from Ireland and caused mayhem, whilst others think this is a more mystical tale reflecting an ancient tradition about the hunting of a sacred boar. The paw print stone was observable in the Victorian era when Lady Guest sketched it - though I am not sure if it is still around toda