By Richard Smyth
This can be the hidden heritage of an invention that we use on a daily basis yet seldom dare to talk of. In medieval China it used to be state of the art expertise. For 19th-century americans it was once a newfangled substitute to dried corncobs and the Sears & Roebuck catalogue. Wits in Georgian London most popular pages of undesirable poetry. The sages of old Athens have been content material to wield the xylospongion in its place. It's the story of bathroom paper; the biography of bumfodder. From its origins on the Imperial court docket of Emperor Hongwu to its reinvention as a quack therapy for haemorrhoids in 1870s big apple urban; from the Dutch and their mussel-shells to Henry VIII and his Groom of the Stool; from Madame de Prie's pioneering bidet to the space-age Washlet; from leaf-wielding chimpanzees to Mr Thirsty Fiber and the world's first three-adjective loo-roll – it's a narrative of necessity and invention, luxurious and squalor, test and culture. What does a submarine team do while it runs out of bathroom paper? Who stole the Pope's loo-roll? Does printer's ink reason piles? How do you fold a sheet of loo paper in part greater than seven instances? What did 'bumphleteers' do, and why? Richard Smyth solutions the questions you by no means inspiration to invite in regards to the product we can't dwell with no.
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Extra info for Bum Fodder: An Absorbing History of Toilet Paper
As such, we can pretty well deduce his attitude and behavior patterns. Page 2 Just picture Adam, the first Good Ol' Boy, back there that first day. He had just been molded out of a mud spitball. He had the whole world to himself, to do anything he wanted. He could hunt possum. Or he could play mumblety-peg. He could do anything he took a notion to do, and not worry Page 3 about getting interrupted by someone who wanted him to take out the garbage. You can imagine Adam on that first Friday night the world had ever seen, getting all spruced up to step out and paint the Garden red.
Page 5 Anyway, back at the Garden, Adam looks at Eve with a puzzled expression on his face. " he says. "You ain't no fish of the sea. And you ain't no fowl of the air. And you sure as heck ain't no creepin' thing what crawleth. " Of course, Eve hasn't quite figured him out yet, either. "Hey," says Adam. "I'll betcha you're man's best friend. I'll call you Old Blue, and we'll go huntin' possum together, and I'll scratch you behind the ears. " Now Eve didn't take too hot to any of that stuff. She didn't have a mama to tell her what a no-count bum this guy was and how unlikely it was she could ever turn him into anything more than what she saw.
After half an hour or so, Joe got to thinking he probably ought to go do his neighborly duty and go call on the Widder Anderson himself. As Joe let himself in at the Anderson gate, who should come out on the front porch but Old Man Anderson. <><><><><><><><><><><><> If the reader will allow a true story about an alleged liar, I submit another Liberty Hill tale, with reliance on no less an authority than that venerable publication, the Texas Observer, and other unnamed sources for purported facts.