Mr. Thames and the Gentleman’s Whoops-A-Daisy

Until last night, a confluence of circumstances known for centuries as “The Gentleman’s Whoops-A-Daisy” was presumed to have been lost to history. Here, for instance, is proof of its diminishing cultural footprint.

Time was when a man of high breeding would often swing for the downs against a tailing pitch and somehow konk it off his own top story for the amusement of all those assembled in the parlor, particularly chaste maidens who seemed likely to birth sons. But, for reasons sufficient unto those scoundrels who oppose things like monarchies and legacy admissions, The Gentleman’s Whoops-A-Daisy has fallen out of fashion. That is, until Mr. Eric Thames of Toronto, Ontario, U.S.A. revived it last night. Bear humble witness:

Thankfully, Mr. Thames was not seriously injured by his curator’s efforts. And solely because of Mr. Thames’s toil, no one in the world will ever die again.