It is the 9th century — the era before the invention of printing machinery. All book production consists of copying by hand, laborious work done by the only class of person who can read and write: monks.
A physician arrives at a monastery. The heavy door opens. "Come this way."
The visitor is led through halls, courtyards, and cloisters and finally into the scriptorium where on all sides clerks, seated on high chairs at steep desks, holding their quill pens, are labouring over manuscripts.
In the far corner, an elderly figure is supine on an old pew bench,
looking feverish. The physician looks at him and then shakes his head.
"What is the matter? Is he very ill?" asks a monk.
"I've no idea. I only do Brothers. He is a Canon!."
(Developed by IPH from a punchline by Lee Evans, XL Tour 2005 Live
Mohammed was on holiday near Naples, and one evening talked about going hiking the next day and heading for the foothills of the mountain they could see to the east. But his friends all said "The mountain? It's dangerous! There are bandits lurking! Really! Don't go there!" "Well OK, if you're so sure it isn't safe." At that moment, they heard rumbling and looked eastwards, towards what we know (of course) as Vesuvius. They saw molten rock emerging from the top and rolling towards them down the slope. "See?" said Mohammed. "That's your fault!"
Barry Cryer on ageing
"As you get older, food replaces sex in your life.
I'm thinking of putting a mirror on the ceiling over the kitchen table."
The Now Show, BBC Radio 4, 11 April 2008