Earlier, Palaiophron quoted a dubious and amusing etymology from the inimitable John Tzetzes. Because I might never stop being at least partly an adolescent, I started coming up with a limerick
The eminent John Tzetzes
must have had remarkable testes.
That he weighs all the same
myriad dubious claims
attests to a nice pair of hefties.
Because I am a part-adolescent who lives in the internet age, I had to tweet about it.
I thought this might be the end, but, mirabile dictu, a twitter friend joined in:
…rounding it out with: “that his ‘sore’-name should so entertain us”.
In my own maturity, I could not help but continue (with a little rhyming help from my friend):
The Byzantine Bishop Eustathius
lived some time after the cretaceous.
He wrote on both Homer’s poems
but never left home
and as a result his rump was curvaceous.
Any one else want to play?
The call was answered first 10 minutes after the post went live by salamanderheart:
There once was a girl Theodora,
Who had what all guys wanted more of.
But she let them all down
When she picked up a crown,
And erased what she had been before, uh.
“I am not yet drunk enough to write poetry.”–Li Po
And our own Palaiophron added:
Triclinius’ knowledge was ‘extensive’,
Yet on one point he got quite defensive:
He had a small peter,
So he wrote about meters,
Where his measure was quite comprehensive.
And I awoke with this:
Boethius was a man of some polish
of high breeding, with no lack of knowledge.
Emperor Theodoric threw him in jail
–Thanks to a treasonous tale–
There he made philosophy his solace.
And revived nearly 3 years later by no less an eminence than Tzetzes himself:
https://twitter.com/SmChrl/status/1016424848527159299
Many an academic career will be forever ruined after tonight! I will not pretend to be castus inter improbos, and submit my own on Demetrius Triclinius:
Triclinius’ knowledge was ‘extensive’,
Yet on one point he got quite defensive:
He had a small peter,
So he wrote about meters,
Where his measure was quite comprehensive.
Brilliant.
The poet and teacher Psellos
Had a lot he wanted to tell us
So he dressed up the words
Of medicine in verse
But his collections no longer compel us.
Ah, the lexicographer Photius
A favorite of schoolboys and scholiasts
Any word is a loss
If it hasn’t his gloss
What a scholar of some note he is.