A publisher in Dry Prong, Louisiana, USA, recently contacted Justice Minotaur to ask if he would like to contribute to an edited compilation. According to the publisher’s solicitation, the compilation, tentatively titled Mein Fuhrers, will include articles from “leaders in business, law, government, teaching, and animal husbandry, shedding much and arguably holy light on the reasons for the success of these titans.” It is not known if Minotaur was contacted because of his connections to law or to animal husbandry.
After personally inscribing his contribution on a tanned hide (likely that of camel), Minotaur had the composition transcribed and then locally edited. He has asked Mr. Cornwall to reproduce it here before submitting it to the publisher.
Daily Patterns of Success
by Justice Korbin Minotaur, Thane of Cawdor
As by definition it is in the morning when the day begins, so it is the patterns we follow in the morning (which in this paper we will consider as being anytime between about 4:32 antemeridian and noon-hour) that may lead us to the Canaan we seek. In hopes of assisting the youth in particular who may read this mixed-quality compilation, I set forth here, as the guts of my article, a typical morning itinerary for myself. It is not improbable this routine has nothing to do with my success, but I take pains to describe it here just in case.
5:00 antemeridian. Reveille. This is brought about either by extraordinary cramps in my bowels (see next entry for a possible reason) or by the incessant chirping of the artificial rooster often called an “alarm clock.”
5:00 to 5:04? antemeridian. In the toilet. This time can extend for as long as four hours, depending on whether I fall asleep in there and on how much meat I ate in the night.
5:05 to 6:05 antemeridian. An hour of Yoga. “Yoga” is a television drama produced out of North Dakota State University, USA. It depicts the (presumably) fictional tale of a Union horse who, after escaping from a Confederate prison camp during the American Civil War, makes his way to the Pacific coast and then clear to Mongolia, where he terrorizes the countryside.
6:06 to 7:20 antemeridian. Almost every day I make some effort to thwart bodily stench. One measure I sometimes take is to unclothe my body and rinse it in heated water expelled from a spigot situated in the wall at about the height of my head, all while standing in a cube that is enclosed to prevent the leaking forth of the water. The effort goes better if I use store-bought cleansers both on the hair of my head and the flesh that enshrouds my bones and organs. (Note: I had a grandfather who wore underpants at least part of the time while he was so rinsing, possibly to get hay out of them.)
7:20 to 7:45 antemeridian. “Enbalming.” After emerging from the wet chamber, I often rub a milky white balm into my flesh. The balm is expressed from a tube labeled “Gentleman’s Lotion,” which I keep in a drawer when not in use.
7:46 to 11:00 antemeridian. Cannot account for this time. Check to make sure that no one is tricking me by turning my clocks forward.
11:01 antemeridian. Send daily reminder (via “electronic mail” composed by Mr. Cornwall) to court paymaster that I want to be paid with actual money, not rolls of fabric.
***Ask Lady Cottonmouth to change to a muskier perfume. [Mr. Cornwall’s note: This appears to be a note to himself that Minotaur inscribed on the hide while composing his article.]
11:02 to 11:30 antemeridian. Chicken for breakfast. No, children, I am not talking about having these feathered creatures as guests at our table. I mean we are going to capture, kill, roast, and eat them, such that their meat essentially becomes our meat. Children, our fragile bodies cannot last without that thing which Father Adam named “food”! (Aside: When Adam first looked upon a chicken, did he in fact first name it “food”? Or was it only later he realized he wanted to eat it?)
11:30 antemeridian to noontide. Racing. This is usually about the time when I realize I was supposed to be at work three hours ago.