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Quick. There's some stronger than usual violence this week. Please see the post on mythpodcast.com for more info. This week on Myths and Legends There are two stories of pride and power from Hans Christian Andersen. You'll see how going to war with an omnipotent, omniscient deity might be a bad idea, and how it doesn't matter that you love to berate people and decorate your house. And manure. You're not the problem. The creature this time is an elf who's not an elf. They're an L, which is different, and they'll make your cow sick if you confuse the two. This is Myths and Legends, episode 416 humbugs. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today there are two stories from the Danish fairy tale master Hans Christian Andersen of power, pride, and the limits of both. The first has to do with a king who wants to take over the world. And then some So I hear you have a problem with shooting unarmed, surrendering civilians? The king asked the man who had been dragged before him for disobeying orders. Yes, the soldier said, his face stained with the soot of the house he had rushed into trying to save a mother and child. He was successful, but as they were separated and the child was dragged to the enslavers and the mother dragged elsewhere, he had wondered whether he should have just left them. Frankly, your grace, I didn't sign up for that. Well, you signed up to be part of your king's army, and your king commanded this, so you kinda did. The king's Van Dyck beard warped into a smile. Still, it took courage not just to disobey an order, but to speak truth to his king. As a king, he could respect courage. The man was released from duty. The man stood up in shock. For days he had been witnessing the atrocities, the massacres, the things that would haunt him until his dying day, making peace with the idea that he was going to be killed for speaking up. He knew he must do it. What they were doing was wrong. There was war, there was conquering a city. And then there was what his king was doing. Sure, he wished the king saw the wisdom of his words and took his protest to heart. But it was possible that nothing save the work of an angel could save so broken and lost a person. The soldier could leave with his life. He could go home to his mother and father and siblings and live in peace with the idea that he had done all he could. He laid his pack down before the king, but the king waved his hands. No, keep it. He would need it on his journey home. He waved over a scribe and told him to take down where this brave soldier lived. You still live with your parents, right? We just need to know where to send your salary. The man was almost in tears. Salary? He didn't deserve such a kindness. He wiped his eyes and gave the address. Thank you for your bravery, son. All of it. Going to change things. Your words were not in vain. The king nodded at the man. The man saluted his king and turned and began walking away. Yeah, okay, next up. You have the address. Send some guys, burn his house down and shoot anyone trying to leave the Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru package, he said, and a soldier rushed off. The soldier who had just been there with the protest, turned. What? There was another soldier up, two actually, with a dispute over spoils from the sacked city. The original soldier, the one who was dismissed, pressed forward but was rebuffed by a guard telling him to get to the back of the line. The man pleaded, saying that he had to know who the king was just talking about. Was it his family? Then he heard something far more alarming. The king was discussing the spoils, and while he couldn't offer a solution there, he did offer the two something else. Double salary. Both men gasped. That was way more than a few gold cups. The king squinted and pointed to the soldier, who was still pressing in on the edge of the supplicants. The first man to bring me his head gets his salary. The king smiled. Oh, and no guns. He wanted it nice and slow. The soldier felt the eyes of two of his comrades as they found him on the edge of the crowd. You know what? I guess his words did have an effect on me. I'm feeling generous. The head gets his salary, but anyone who brings me a piece of him gets a bonus. The rest of the eyes found the soldier and the man ran. The foreign lands, the faraway places where the king could perfect his cruelty and hone his armies away from the eyes of his powerful neighbors were always merely the first steps. He was careful never to trample on their toes or enter their colonial holdings, and in turn they didn't interfere. There were stories, of course, of what he was doing there, but then again, those were no stories to discuss at elegant state dinners on velvet cushions with the ladies present. Besides, they all had armies and faraway lands, and in the Empire business, no one's hands were truly clean, so they lauded him in the piles of riches he brought from lands unknown to build his glorious capital. The other kings didn't know that in five years time their holdings would be his holdings. He would ally with half of them to alienate the other half, grinding his enemies to dust and then turn on the rest like a pike released into a pond. Not even the other rulers could comprehend the cruelty that lurked behind the eyes of a man who had invited them to dinner and charmed their families. They insisted to him that they were not his enemies, not understanding that to him, everyone was an enemy. They just didn't know it yet. One by one, the rulers who flattered, appeased, and eventually fought him were jerked along his streets in rags with a gold chain around their necks. He did invite them to dinner night after night, making them sit at his feet and the feet of his flatterers, taking the scraps off discarded chicken bones, bread crusts and apple cores. Soon a patchwork of countries and nations were no more. They were him. It was all him. And it was good. He was good. This was something that everyone should know, or at least acknowledge. So he put up statues to himself all over the city. Or tried to if there were problems in his perfect city, well, perfect world. He didn't hear them. Mainly because most people were scared enough to obey in advance and give him more than he even would have asked to avoid his wrath, but also because his underlings could be trusted to solve the problems before they ever percolated up to him. These priests, though, they required some special attention. Yeah, no, sorry, we're not gonna do it. Actually, I'm not even sorry. That's a pretty fundamental thing that we don't do. I'm not gonna replace all the crosses and statues and stuff with pictures and statues of the king. The. The people are going to worship. That's. That's a complete non starter for us. We worship God, the priests said. The soldier said when he reported to the king. So did the king want them to burn the place down and torture them in horrifying yet creative ways? Or God? God. The king screeched and stood. They were going to have a talk with these priests. The king arrived to a mostly empty cathedral. The few priests who were absolutely sure they were going to be martyred had given the rest of the employees some time off. Forever. They could stay if they wanted to be martyred too, but no one was going to make them. God. How dare you answer to God over me. The king shook his head. The lead priest said that that was, I mean, fairly standard. Also, they were priests, so yeah, they weren't really going to budge on this one. And they were fairly certain the king wasn't either. So did they want to do this here? Either way, it wasn't going to be a good look for the king, slaughtering priests at the altar or giving them a public execution and an audience, which they would absolutely use. God. The king trailed off, pacing. The priests looked to the soldiers, who gave them a shrug. General, the king called a burly, mustachioed man over with a scuffling. The man bowed before his king. I have a new mission for you, the king declared. I've conquered the world. Now we are going to find and kill God. The general looked to the others, who would not make eye contact. He said the only thing he ever said to the king. Yes, your grace. The king spun and left the room deep in thought, with the general scurrying behind him, leaving the soldiers still clutching the priests. Should we. Should we kill these guys? Hello? The soldiers asked, but in the absence of clear orders, they figured they better not risk it in the event that the king was hoping to rub it in their faces when he brought, like, God back in cuffs or something. No one had any idea how this was going to work out. They let the priests go and left the priests, who were, yeah, down for being martyrs for their faith if the issue came back up again, but who weren't really gonna go knocking on any doors looking for it, went back to doing priest stuff. The wars were long over by this point, and without an external enemy to focus on, people began to grow discontent with the sacrifices that were still being put upon them with the rumor that the king was building a device to go to war with heaven itself. Now the people couldn't do much unless they got together, but a king going to war with God and executing anyone who laughs at him is like Caligula palace coup level stuff. What he really should be doing was cementing his reign by ingratiating their final, greatest threat, the people they ruled. Instead, he was taxing them to death and burning through cash for a device no one could see. Until today. Almost a year since the incident at the church, the king invited all of his top men into a lead lined room in a mountain outside of his capital where they saw a boat, a ship, the king announced, and massive cannons. With that they would ride into the sky and bring war conquering heaven itself. As he spoke, dozens of soldiers marched in the ship. One general broke out laughing. Seriously. The king looked at him with fury, and his colleagues looked at him with terror. Now. Okay, I'm just gonna say it. The general stepped forward. This was why their people couldn't feed themselves. This was why they risked revolution. So the King could have some dry docked ship and a mountain and think he was going to go fight God and win. Where would he even go to fight God? The sun, obviously. The king scoffed. How is that obvious? It's a hot ball in the sky. What is this? Ancient Egypt? Greece? You think it's pulled by a guy with a magical chariot who flew too close? And that's why we have deserts. And you're what, gonna go up there in this? A ship that's painted like a peacock? The general crossed his arms, realizing he might as well have just sealed his death warrant, but at least he did so in a way he could live with. Not long, probably, but he was so tired of playing along with this guy's violent, cruel madness. The King gave a nod to a man standing by a collection of gears and levers, who responded by pulling the big one. And there was a cacophony of worrying on either side of the cavern as the top of the mountain opened. With another pull of the levers, the ship they were on lurched. Chains on all sides went taut as hundreds, maybe thousands, of eagles were released and flew for the opening. Tilting slightly this way and that, the ship leveled out and rose up through the rocks and then up through the top of the mountain. Soon the mountain and the forests and capital were well beneath them. He had done it. The King had built a flying machine. Now, suddenly, nothing felt impossible. I'm so sorry I doubted you. The general took the King's hand and kissed his ring. It's okay. I forgive you, the King said. You can go home now. Two soldiers gripped his shoulders and dragged him, first confused, then pleading, to the edge of the ship and threw him off. One Wilhelm scream later and the King was squinting at the sun. To war. Putting the engines at full power. And so I guess, you know, shooting some BB guns at the eagles, pulling the ship. The ship sailed off toward the sun. We'll see how the King's assault on heaven goes, but that will be right after this. So, function, health, low key rules. Let me explain. Function is a health platform that takes your health data and actually makes it useful. Not only can you test something like 160 plus biomarkers from heart hormones, toxins, inflammation, stress, you can actually know what's happening in your body. Health stuff can be sneaky. While I thought I was generally healthy. I did see that my bad cholesterol is a little higher than it should be and my good cholesterol isn't quite where it needs to be. 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We only buy glasses there just because it's so affordable, high quality, easy and stylish. Warby Parker has over 300 plus locations to help you find your next pair of glasses. You can also head over to warbyparker.com legends right now to try on any pair virtually. That's warbyparker.com legends warbyparker.com legends the king pointed to the cannon out in front While the eagles beat their wings against the sky. That cannon is impressive, but look over the edge, the king said to everyone and no one. The courtiers and flatterers and generals in attendance obeyed and looked over the edge. The ship was painted like a peacock, with peacock's tail circling the vessel. The king pressed a button, and the eyes on the tails sunk in, and gun barrels took their places. The king said, with another press of the button, every gun on the ship would fire at once in every direction. If you wanted. Nothing could stand against him. They passed up through the clouds and were in full view of the sun. But there was something floating there in between. The image struck everyone on the ship differently. The courtiers and generals who had indulged their king's cruelty were filled with dread. Those who had gone along quietly fear. The soldiers pressed into service felt joy. Whatever the king felt, he gritted his teeth. This was an angel, a servant of God. It would feel his wrath. His fist came down hard on the button and the ship fired on the bean. The eagles had been trained to withstand the cacophony. But the people on the ship wailed and dropped to the deck as the ship kept firing. For the first minute, the angel withstood it. The second minute he shielded himself with his wings. In the third, he staggered in the sky. He was bleeding. The ship caught a drop of blood, a singular drop that fell from the angel around the time the soldier set to work reloading the guns. The king smiled. All that for a single drop of blood? Well, no matter if it bleeds, we can kill it. He ordered the guns readied and the ship turned so the broadside was facing the angel, but noticed something. The blood. It was burning the ship. The area around the drop was quickly ash, and then the drop melted. The king called some soldiers over to put it out, and he heard the scream as the drop of blood just kept dropping. Yelling down for a report, One of the soldiers said that it looked like it was cooling. It wouldn't go through the bottom, but the king would really wish it had gone through the bottom. When it was cool, it was a leaden weight, heavier than anything on the ship by several orders of magnitude. So much so that instead of the eagles pulling the ship, the king saw the collars pull and yank the necks of the birds as they fought with futility against gravity, against God. Their ship began to descend. The king saw the bloodied angel begin to ascend as the clouds swallowed him in his ship. In rage veiled panic, he ordered the soldiers to get their axes and hack Away at the woods surrounding the drop of blood. If they could get it loose, they could resume their attack. They almost had him. The soldiers, to their credit, tried. It was their lives on the line as well. But they failed and they fell. The earth shook as the ship crashed down in a forest, and for a time, all was still. Seven years later, the ships took flight again. This time there was an armada. They weren't pulled by eagles, but fire and lightning. The king walked on the deck in full army regalia, a dozen ships, each the same size as the original, but ones that could hold hundreds of times their weight. The armies that manned the ships, like the gold that paid for them and the metal that composed them, were not just from his own country, but from across the world, hundreds and hundreds of men. It took great pain and many hours with physicians and for the king to recover from the crash that brought down the last ship. It took even longer hours for them to help him work through his limp and then to hide what couldn't be healed. Of course, he had to have the physicians killed afterwards to hide any hint of weakness, so that was just a whole thing. Now, though, it was the day of his grand victory, where he would battle heaven and win. As he rose above the clouds, he cried out his challenge for the angel he had wounded seven years ago to return and fight him, for him to bring all of his comrades to fall before the king stormed the gates of heaven. But the sky was empty. The king laughed. Yes. He drew his sword and pointed forward. They were cowering behind their walls in anticipation. Onward, engines burned as the ships climbed higher toward the sun. And then the cloud. Not the cloud they had passed through, but the cloud that approached. Gnats squinting, the king shook his head. But what were gnats doing up this high? Even stranger, of the 12 ships in the sky, they seemed to only be coming for his ship. In the seven years since the last defeat, the king had not only perfected the technology of the flying ships, but had basically batmaned the whole situation, planned obsessively for every eventuality. The ships could handle many multiples of their weight, as well as detach at several spots. They were fireproof, amphibious, and packed with bullets and explosives. When it came to the engines, even the redundancies had redundancies. So when the gnats arrived, the men only had to mentally review addendum for subsection 15B. Insects, birds, bats, angry rain, and very small rocks, etc. To know what to do. The gnats came for the soldiers first. As they unfurled the silk. They bit the men, sprinkling their arms with welts, coating their king in the silk and cinching the body suit behind him. They actually kind of had a proto beekeeper suit, but a more comfortable and probably stylish one. And the king laughed through his coverings as the gnats tried to get in. He ordered his guards to shoot the gnats, which you can probably imagine is a terrible idea. And after several of them were wounded, the king drew his sword. That was about as effective as the guns, but it didn't matter. All they had to do was press onward, since the only thing God had to fight them, apparently, were bugs. And then he felt it. An itch on his right earlobe spinning. The king saw one of the clasps on his suit dangling free. The airlines are right. Secure your own mask before assisting others. And since he didn't give the people looking after him any protection from the bites, well, he didn't get the most attentive care possible. He was a little more nonchalant. His underlings were being bitten and stung, and they were relatively fine. What the King didn't know, though, was that the insects seemed to be made for him. The king didn't really reflect on it, though, because what the insect really did for him was to bring him joy. Wild, silly, intoxicating joy. The gnats dispersed and the King, with a laugh, tore off his suit. And then, arms spread wide, he felt the sun on his skin there in the sky, and wanted to feel more of that as he threw off his coat and his shirt and his shoes and his pants and yes, his underwear, he marveled. They were in the sky. They were flying. Does anyone have any idea how amazing that was? And they were using this for what? For war? What was wrong with them? This was amazing. They were amazing. Oh, he was so sorry. So sorry. He threw them off of stuff and had them executed in such gruesome manners. He just. He was so insecure, so scared. But not now. Now. Now he felt so free. And he did. He began naked dancing all over the deck of the ship as his men laughed. They were not laughing with him. The men who were next down the chain of command turned the ships around and went home. The story doesn't say what happened to the King. I debated whether to have one of his advisors throw him overboard or not. But I liked the image of a man who was the terror of the entire world, whose cruelty was so excessive that it caught everyone off guard, dancing naked in the streets to the ridicule of the People he oppressed. This was a fun story, but it's a reminder of our own limits. I think it works two ways, whether taken literally as God fighting the king, or or simply the king metaphorically bumping up against his own human limitations and the bounds of his power and control. You can literally have all the power in the world and still be at the mercy of some small, seemingly insignificant thing that will bring you to ruin. Death and I guess high altitude bug bites are the great equalizers. There's no escaping either. Well, no escaping death. Pretty easy to avoid high altitude bug bites. Just don't build an armada of flying ships and go to war with God. In our second story today, we go from the most powerful, most important man on earth to nearly his exact opposite. A beetle. Yeah, the insect. The thing about the beetle, though, is that his ego is just about as big as the king's in the story we just told. But that will once again be read after this. Chris and I were trying to come up with a list of Outschool courses our son has done, and I honestly, I've lost count. I mean, recently he's done writing, Korean art, and coding, but it's not just academic, focused stuff. There are also ones where kids hang out. He's done a Lego one, a Minecraft one, a hangout with other kids his age, and talk for when everyone was stuck in their homes a few years back. Outschool has helped him to discover new things he loves and deepen his interests in things he already loves. It's helped him absolutely crush his state testing in school this year with a writing course as well as dunk on dad when he corrected my Korean pronunciation. We've been using it for years, long before they sponsored the show. And we love Outschool. I really can't recommend it enough. All the courses are run by live human teachers, and we've listened in on them from the other room time and time again, and they've all been great. One of the things I really love, though, is that it fosters a value of lifelong learning. Learning isn't just for school or so you can pass a test. It's because it can be fun in and of itself. And I will say he's the one getting ready and getting out the laptop 10 minutes before a class starts. If you want to try Outschool, you can get your family's first month for only $1 for a limited time when you use my link outschool.com legends Outschool has been a game changer for our family this new membership exclusive discount is only available when you go through our link and use code Outsource Legends Full schedules, empty stomachs A potent fall combination for bad moods and too much fast food. Also, if you do the math on how much time it takes you to go out and get takeout or get something delivered, you're not saving all that much time and you're definitely spending more money. Two words Home Chef, Fresh ingredients delivered right to your door and Chef designed recipes. So easy. I can do them. They even have 30 minute recipes. I would bet you money that you can't get something to your house faster than 30 minutes. And I know it wouldn't be as good as something you can make with all the ingredients right there and a step by step recipe. Plus it's economical. Home Chef customers save an average of $86 per month on groceries. They have over 30 options a week with classic meal kits, oven ready options, microwave meals or a dedicated family menu. And users of Leedi meal kits have rated Home Chef 1 in quality, convenience, value, taste and recipe ease. For a limited time, Home Chef is offering my listeners 50% off and free shipping on your first box, plus free dessert for life. Go to homechef.com legends that's homechef.com legends for 50% off and free dessert for life. Homechef.com legends must be an active subscriber to receive free dessert Give me golden shoes, the beetle said to the blacksmith, who was apparently not fazed by a talking beetle. Why? Uh, because I want them, that's why. Besides, the horse has golden shoes. The beetle pointed to the prized horse in the emperor's stables. Why should he get golden shoes but I have nothing. Why indeed, does the emperor's horse, who saved him in the war get golden shoes and you don't? The blacksmith groaned. Right, the beetle said. It feels like it was done just to annoy him. A personal slight. Yeah, the emperor personally slighted a beetle, the blacksmith stated. Only conclusion I can draw. It was done to annoy me. You know what? I'm gonna go out into the world. I'm done here, the beetle declared. Okay, go on, the blacksmith said. And the beetle did. Isn't it lovely here? The ladybug said in the flower garden, surrounded by roses and lavender after the beetle lighted on a flower not an hour later. Beautiful. Please. I'm used to so many better things. Like, look at this place. Not even one manure pile and you call this nice? He flew off again not long after he saw a caterpillar on a gilliflower talking about. He wasn't sure what the caterpillar was talking about. Resurrection. When I die, I shall be transformed. I shall be able to fly. The caterpillar declared, demonstrating a very loose conceptual grasp on both death and metamorphosis. Yeah, that's. That's stupid. Your dreams are stupid. The beetle scoffed. He came from the house of the Emperor, the human emperor, and neither he nor his golden shoed horse had any dreams that they'd be able to sprout wings and fly. Ridiculous. The beetle popped out his own wings. But me. Look at this. Huh? Wow. Flying. And I didn't even have to die. The beetle flew off, shaking his head and saying, I don't really want to be annoyed, and yet I am annoyed. The frogs were annoying, but the beetle wasn't surprised. That was becoming something of a theme. They loved the downpour and the wet, swampy weather that grounded the beetle for a day and said that anyone who didn't love cold, rainy weather didn't love their native country. He talked up the warmth of the imperial stables and asked if there was any place around like that with people who would annoy him. Frogs ignored him and he flew on. Our son has become engaged, the earwig mother said when the beetle landed next to their broken clay home. He has grand ambitions. Someday he hopes to burrow into the ear of a clergyman, the mother said. She loved her children. They were so well behaved, except when they had stomach aches, which they always had at the Sage. So they're not well behaved. The beetle following her inside was growing annoyed. No, they are. Except when they have stomach aches. The mother smiled. Which they always have at this age. Yes, the mother said. Hmm. The beetle sat down to dinner at his new home as three children smashed his plate and the other three tried to spin his antenna, AKA his mustache, with a fork like it was a piece of spaghetti. Alright, he said, standing. Didn't know how he thought this was going to go, but this track's where was the nearest hotbed? It was across a ditch, the mother earwig said, and if you've only heard the word used in a metaphorical sense, a real life hotbed in this time would be some sort of heat generating material, like compost under the soil and then covered in maybe glass or something to lock in the heat and aid in decomposition. The beetle wouldn't know though, because on his way in the ditch he saw beetles. So many beetles. The beetle flew down and he he was home. One ditch denizen waved him in and invited him down and the rest of the beetles in the tunnel marveled at this traveler from afar. Like afar as in 200 meters to the west from the Emperor's stables. The group was amazed they had a celebrity in their midst. He liked the attention, especially from all the young unmarried lady Beatles. He made a good match and well married. The most sought after beetle bride in town. After a day they moved into their own house, and after another they were talking children. Well, she was. He had to get a job to support himself, her and the budding beetle brood. It was then that the beetle snapped out of it. He looked around his dirt home and shook his head. This was not his beautiful beetle house. This was not his beautiful beetle wife. They were actually both of those. But he realized he left the stables for golden shoes and the respect he deserved not to work a job and support a family. Hey, babe. Kids, great idea. Love it. I'm just gonna run out for like a pack of bark. I'll be right back. The Beatle said. And abandoned his wife. That's bad in any time, but especially in one where the family was shamed for taking in a scoundrel. And the Beatle daughter would remain alone forever because of her husband's action. The horse was dead. The golden shoes were his. The beetle tromped around in the golden horseshoes and was the marvel of everyone and everything. And everyone respected him and said he was great. The end he woke up with a sigh. He could dream still another day in paradise. Finding his way into the greenhouse, the beetle thought that this was the best possible home. He was free from predators. He could snack all day. He could get squeezed to death by the gardener's son. Wait. He was munching on a leaf when the kid pinched him and wrapped him in another leaf, sticking him in a warm trouser pocket. Emerging into the sunlight, the beetle blinked until he could see the rope around him and the boat. A few boys were by the waterside and an old wooden shoe sat with a sail in it. They used some more string and tied the beetle to the mast and then let him go bobbing on the ocean. His relief that he was drifting away from the boys was quickly replaced by the fear that he was now drifting on the sea alone and tied to a mast. Which is only marginally worse than regular drifting on the sea. But it's still pretty bad. It did give the beetle time for some reflection, though. Now he could see that he knew the world and that he was the only good, honest person in it. He only wanted what was his due. His golden Shoes. And he was forced to suffer all these injustices, like being wet, having to listen to these fools and their ridiculous dreams. And the other Beatles wouldn't even give him his proper praise without trying to hitch a wife to him. Now these human, these little human. I don't know, what are they called? Puppies? Who knows? They did this to him. You know what? He felt bad for the world. The world was about to lose him. Hey there, partner. Nice day, huh? The fly said, landing on the deck of the ship. Nice day, nice day, you fool. It's a terrible day, and you're ridiculous for thinking otherwise. I'm tied to this mast. The beetle yelled. Wow. Can't imagine why, the fly said and flew away. The beetle couldn't believe the nerve of some animals. Everyone had it out for him. He was rescued by some nice little girls who cut him free. They smelled weird, like flowers, but fake flowers. He flew off and through an open window and landed and recognized the soft hair between his feet. He was home. The beetle was back in the Emperor's stables. And he was on the horse with the golden shoes. The stables were warm and dry and full of that aromatic manure. But it was also full of disrespect, of embarrassment of people who didn't recognize his greatness. He sat back on the horse and then thought about it and laughed. He had been so silly. The golden shoes for the horse. Those were gifts for him. They weren't given to the horse. They were meant to honor its rider. And he was the rider. That's why the blacksmith was so confused. Well, that and he wasn't as smart or as wise as the beetle. But that was hardly his fault. No one was. The beetle smiled, crawling on the back of the horse. Well, this was perfect. The world wasn't so bad after all, as long as the people knew how to honor him. And these people did. And travel, you know, it broadens the mind. The world was wonderful because the Emperor's favorite horse had golden shoes and because the beetle was its rider. So the beetle flew off to brag to the other beetles in the stable and resolved to stay at home until the horse, his horse had worn out his golden shoes. I'll tone it down a little bit, but there's a folk saying that was made popular by the show Justified, which boils down to if you meet a jerk in the morning, you met a jerk. If you meet jerks all day, you're the jerk. I do love that. The Beatles. Adventures that don't change him at all. He's a Brazen, outspoken narcissist at the beginning, and he's arguably more so at the end. The Beatle thinks himself a great creature, a world traveler and a respected member of the empire. But he lives wrapped safely in his own delusions. He's a joke of his own making, whether he wants to realize it or not. That's it for this week. Next week on the show, we're actually kind of expanding on a creature we talked about recently and telling the story of Guy of Wark. The creatures this time are the Elfolk from Danish folklore. When you're elf like creatures in one of the few regions within mythology that specifically and distinctly has elves, one of the nine realms of Norse myth is Alfheim, the world of the elves. You have to be relentless about branding in order to differentiate yourself. The Elfolk are mostly successful living in the el mounds on Elmores. The Elfolk look like elves. I mean mostly. The women are small and supposedly eternally young and beautiful. The men are prematurely aged. Either way, though, they're hollow. Yeah, like a clay statue or a chocolate Easter bunny. The company didn't want to spend too much money to make the Elfolk, when viewed from the front, look like beautiful women or really old men. When viewed from behind, though, they're like walking troughs, completely empty. Like most forest people, they love to lure people away, but maybe not to kill them. There are several warnings to young men not to be lured away by the beautiful woman dancing in the moonlight, but I can't seem to find the substance to those warnings. And maybe, maybe it just kinda seems what happens is exactly what the young men hope will happen. I don't know for the male Elfolk, or Ellen, as they're also called, they just want to be left alone. And if you catch him bathing, because I guess that's the only time you catch him, he'll breathe on you and produce sickness and pestilence. So really, don't sneak up on men bathing in the forest. Magical or not, they're only a real danger to cattle who wander onto their lands and graze in places where one of the Elfolk have spit. The cows will catch a disease, they'll have a fever, and the only cure is more cows eating St. John's Wort that has been pulled up at midnight on St. John's night, June 23rd. If you didn't know, and I didn't, cows are also in danger because they might mix in with the fairy cows who are big and blue and will mess them up. All you have to do to make sure your cows don't get mixed in with theirs is when you're letting your cows out, you just look at the ell hill and shout, thou little troll. And that'll do it, I guess. But I mean, you've just offended a supernatural creature whose breath can kind of kill you, so maybe that's not a great solution. That's it for this time. Myths and Legends is by Jason and Kristen Clarissa Weiser. Our theme song is by Broke for Free and the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Combs. There are links to even more of the music we used in the show. Notes. Thank you so much for listening and we'll see you next time. Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. Feel good and look good this summer with savings on your personal care favorites and earn four times points now through September 9th. 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