The Middle Ages
To say that Terribly Happy didn't evolve beyond crude wall drawings and garbled words written on bones in dank caves wouldn't be completely innacurate. Today, almost two thousand years later, Terribly Happy is a barely-literate collection of random bits of badly rasterized "Clip Art" and musings on rock music. The ancestors of Terribly Happy might be shocked into cutting off their own genitals did they know where their artistic endeavors eventually ended up. But our purpose is not necessarily to critique Terribly Happy in its current state (although I'd like to give that guy a good spanking, and not in a sexual way, either), but to enlighten those unfamiliar with the rich and storied history to gain some perspective. And to get my minor in Modern History from Devry's. But that is neither here nor there. Let us take a look at what many refer to as the "Golden Shower Age" of Terribly Happy, beginning with its migration to Europe.
In or around March 1303, a young explorer named Cabeza de Sandia arrived in China and was exposed to (some say maliciously probed with) a scroll containing an early Terribly Happy text and drawing.
The unfortunately named de Sandia took the scroll (some say "carried it via anus") back to Spain where he showed the Queen.
The Queen promptly had de Sandia executed by means of decapitation for showing her (some say "defecating out") the smelly Chinese scroll. However, despite the unfortunate incident, the scroll survived, and after a thorough fumigation, the Spanish royal family found they liked Terribly Happy. They commissioned an artist to create vulgar drawings based on the Chinese scroll to shock their friends and neighbors. Here is a reproduction of one the Queen's commissioned drawings:
Drawings such as these were quite the rage in Spain until the plague came and killed everyone.
Luckily, there were other Europeans who took up the torch, such as those in England, Gaul (Gaul was a country where everyone was rude and/or nasty. This is where the expression "Gaul" comes from such as, "That guy had such gaul, slapping me in the nuts like that.") and Greece.
In England, soothsayers and mystics were particularly enchanted by an early facet of Terribly Happy, the "Arte de Clip" which would become a longtime fixutre in the artform's existence. Using oracles, beads and other wussy items, English soothsayers were able to conjure their own "Artes de Clip" and use them to make siderails to their own Terribly Happys. Here is an early painting of a soothsayer in action:
As can be seen from all this, I've reached my word requirement for this section.
The modern era and beyond
The invention of the printing press bought many, many heavy books to the world, and many, especially the weak among us, still debate whether this was a good thing.
For Terribly Happy, it was a great thing. Not only could volumes of Terribly Happy now be found in many more homes, but the cost to create a volume of Terribly Happy went from about 390 shillings to only 3 turds, a common currency in rural Europe during the late Middle Ages.
With the Industrial Age came a rash of yellow journalism. Yellow journalism was a kind of journalism that was just like regular journalism, only more yellow. It also specialized in sensationalist headlines and text, such as, "Undergarments for local woman purchased from Montgomery Ward catalog!" and editorials like "We must use bolts for our new railroad system!"
One of the papers that became prominent during this time was the Hackensack Terribly-Happy Herald:
Until a scandal involving the editor-in-chief and an imported zebra shuttered the Herald forever, it was the highest circulation daily newspaper in its immediate area (not counting newspapers actually based in Hackensack).
For years, the name Terribly Happy became synonymous with scandal and human/beastial relations. Not a publisher or writer would allow their name to be associated with a name with such a disgusting history.
Until The Internet, where bestiality and wayward morals were not only accepted, but were encouraged with money, large audience and plentiful Google.com search hits.
The modern era of Terribly Happy is one filled with largely uninteresting stories and minutiae. Many people find happiness reading it as often as they can which, frankly, I just don't get. However, it has made for a compelling, highly readable and very A-grade-worthy thesis. So, thank you, Terribly Happy, for a history of literary, um... what's a word that's not quite "excellence?" Ah yes... for your dazzling mediocrity and death-defying longevity.
May the Web version of Terribly Happy last for at least another couple of months or so.
This is the space where I would have acknowledged the work of my frequent collaborator and clothes launderer, my mother, but I am choosing not to thank her in this particular work because of the coffee thing. You can't baby me forever, mother!
I would also like to thank Omar G. for his generous answering of one of my six e-mails. You're too kind. Really. He asked that you buy him anniversary gifts via his Amazon wish list or get some Terribly Happy goods in his shoddily-produced store, but I suggest you ignore him.
Hey, look at this! Stuff to buy! Haaawwwt-Damn!
"Bob's just not a team player. He's doesn't even like our heat-sensitive productivity monitors!"