Manuel and I were plotting the upcoming deeds of the League last night, and several possibilties arose, beyond the previously suggested karaoke festival. We bruited about the possibility of quenching our unending thirst in venues appropriate to the august heritage of our organization, to wit:

  1. Commandeering a submarine (gotta hurry!)
  2. Employing our private aeroplane
  3. A secret underground lair
  4. A cavern of ice
  5. The bridge of our space cruiser

In addition, we realized that there are a range of potential locations for a secret lair that were previously scouted by Mr. Wanskasmith which are too secret, too draped in the mantle of national security, to be aired in this venue. The cold, hard light of day reveals that there are some further possibilities.

  1. our private presidential rail-car
  2. the sumptuous League mansion
  3. the vast League data center
  4. a long-abandonded ghost town
  5. our skyscraper clubroom

It’s clear that some of these venues are less easy to locate than others. Where possible, I have linked to the physical location under consideration. I think an ideal venture would involve stopping in one or more of these venues and also sampling the local saloon-keeper’s ware in locales where saloons might be available.

Finally, as I joked with Manuel about bylaws, I felt compelled to speak on the topic of E Clampus Vitus, something I am about half-informed on. I understand the Clampers to have been organized by California gold miners in service of the goal of producing a horse-drawn combination steam-powered still and laundry machine to be delivered to the gold miners at the diggins, a place where booze and laundry were in short supply.

A history seen on a Clamper site condradicts this account, but affirms the status of Clamperdon as a drinking society. Another history appears to confirm the first. A Clampers chapter was working on constructing a contemporary Hurlothrumbo.

As I have it, the miners collected a patch of dough and sent it off to San Francisco in the company of one of their number, one Joshua Norton. Eventually, he did return with the machine. Later, he was better known as Emperor Norton I.

My interpretation was close, but no cigar. The Clampers actually sent someone down to pay a call on Norton, at that time a successful entrepeneur who had already disassembled his ship, the Hurlothrumbo, to use the boiler in a laundry service at the diggins. The Clampers bought the boiler from Norton specified that the boiler was to be moved to the diggins atop a wagon that incorporated “a steam engine, bar, humidor, kitchen and baths.” It was constructed and delivered as promised.

The Clampers still meet today.

3 thoughts on “Submarine

  1. I like the Andy’s Diner idea. I will try to contact the submarine’s proprieter this week. Hopefully it’s a carnival sheister looking to squeeze a last few bucks out of it before shipping off. “Yeah, do what you want, just lock up by 2AM.”

  2. I didn’t try very hard, but the submarine owner seems to be unreachable. Voice mailbox full. I never mentioned that I think a private karaoke room is just fine.

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